#on a side note; if the option was 'you lose a hand' or 'you get locked up' and he really had no way out of it

[ruleofheart]

growing pains — ellie williams

ellie williams x f reader

7k

fluff, angst, smut >O<

ellie if nothing bad happened to her ever, childhood friends to acquaintances(?) to lovers, longing, joel is involved, ellie is a DWEEB! but so are you, car sex, classic misunderstandings

to the lovely folks that asked to be tagged, i hope this meets your expectations… i am terrified of failing you: @macaroni676 @d3sperationn @g3latin

beta read by @heartofrhea my best friend my apologies for being cringelord

The universe can be so cruel. 

You sit at the edge of the curb, curling your legs to yourself to feel less vulnerable. Your phone rolls in your hand, tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. You probably should’ve known better. Well— you do know better. That sinking, intuitive feeling had been swirling in the center of your stomach all night, but you had let your desperation and loneliness take ahold of you. 

You had agreed to go out with some friends and some friends of friends; people you didn’t know jackshit about, but hung out with anyway. You had hoped you didn’t reek of seclusion too bad, feeling like a wounded animal in a crowd of predators. 

But your friends and their friends didn’t really care. They had pulled away from you in the club, losing you to flashing lights and crowded bodies. You searched up and down, called their names in the dingy bathrooms, and even asked the bartender. No dice; you were here to party alone. Now what was the point of even coming along?

Silly.

You initially opted to order an Uber to just get the fuck off the street already, but hey— it’s a Friday night and finals are over. The prices listed cost more than six different coffee runs, and there’s no way you’d be giving those up. 

It’s how you end up sitting on the curb and fervently wiping your tears away, cringing when you remember your hands had been touching all the club door handles and god knows what else. You feel dirty, forgotten. 

You unlock your phone and dim the brightness— the stupid thing almost all out of battery— and turn to what seems to be a last resort, an option that you’ve buried away at the back of your mind for years now.

Pressing your phone to your ear, you can’t help but sigh as the line rings repeatedly, almost positive that you’re completely out of luck. 

It falls silent for a second before there’s faint rustling on the other side, and a voice so familiar, so painful to hear, questions you softly. 

“Ellie,” you say breathlessly; from fatigue or relief, you’re not sure anymore. “Can you come get me?” 

Becoming friends with Ellie Williams was almost too easy. 

That’s just how she is as a person. So easy to be around; her voice and twinkling laugh showing no threat. 

It began with Mrs. Sullivan’s freshman class seating chart; a table of four with you, Ellie, and two other boys who were too preoccupied with copying off each other’s notes half the time for you to even remember their names. You mostly kept to yourself as a weird adolescent, the onslaught of teenage hormones and emotions forcing you into your own little world. 

Ellie, on the other hand, was different. She had noticed the front page cover of Savage Starlight slipped into the front sleeve of your binder, the edges frayed and jagged as if you had actually ripped it off. She was almost offended at the sight of such a careless pull, but found the emotion wavering once she realized you read the comics just like her. 

“Hey! No way!” she had exclaimed with a growing smile, her eyes lit up. She had half a mind to just reach over and take your binder, fingers skimming over the glossy cover. She stopped herself mid-way, mind racing before she asked with just as much glee, “Can I see? I don’t think I’ve been able to get ahold of that edition yet.” 

Your short-lived conversations about Savage Starlight began to transform into lunchroom giggle sessions and bike rides on the way home. She was so easy to fall into; it was almost like she had a part of herself that was reserved just for you, eager for your arrival.

The thing about your dynamic was that it was so intricately woven over time, each thread of yourself intertwining with her own as you came to know each other better. Unabashed adoration and excitement with every laugh, with every moment of eye contact across the classroom and dinner table at home: a twinkle of unwavering youth and closeness.

And the thing was, when it came to you, Ellie was not prideful at all. She would openly admit any given moment that there had to be a hole in her heart that was in the shape of you. The two of you fit so nicely in each other’s lives, slipping into a familiar rhythm that almost seemed karmic, even at such a young age. While you were surrounded by other girls your age navigating their own pent up emotions and typical coming-of-age realizations, turning against each other and whispering dirty secrets, Ellie only seemed to cling onto you— hanging onto your every word with sincerity and trust.

It didn’t take long before Ellie began to invite you over to sleepovers, which was new territory for both her and Joel. He was already a little awkward as-is, navigating life with a teenage girl who had the same foul mouth and temperament as he.

So when you came around, greeting him with little smiles and kind language, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sway in relief, happy that Ellie has someone like you in her life. 

You’d tumble off your bikes, leaving them strewn across the front yard, crushing the grass he labored so hard over. But he didn’t mind, relieved to see the two of you arrive in one piece, losing yourself in video game releases and comic book pages as you both sat in her bedroom. 

Joel became a sort of fly on the wall for you two, ever-present as you were fairly comfortable in their home. Tuning the both of you in and out, listening closely for anything that may alarm him (which, never happened). Sitting across the both of you at the dinner table, serving up a quick and easy bowl of Hamburger Helper to you two. He’d glance at the two of you from under his eyelashes, watching how either you or Ellie would lean into each other as you splayed out homework sheets on the table, muttering to each other in curiosity. The two of you may have been better off sharing a single chair, he’d think to himself in amusement. 

Again, your presence in Ellie’s life and in his home never worried him. It became routine for him as well, watching the two of you bike up the block together almost every day after school. 

One hot summer afternoon, he stood on the porch, prying off the entrance screen door in an attempt to replace it, the critters from the greenbelt nearby winning at their efforts to nibble away at the material. 

From afar, he could hear the growing sound of your chattering, your bike chains clicking repeatedly as you breezed down the sidewalk. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as you two fought amicably, reaching out to each other in a playful attempt to push the other off their bike. He chuckled to himself and turned his gaze back to the screen door, fingers prying at the edges. 

Behind him, Ellie reached a little too far to the side, fingers brushing against your arm before she toppled over sideways off her bike. She collapsed with a laugh-yelp, swearing at you in a way that made you burst out laughing, your shoes dragging across the concrete to stop your bike. 

You hopped off your seat, carelessly letting it fall to the side as you approached Ellie, laughing at her as she pushed herself off the ground. 

“You idiot,” you breathed out in between laughs, nearly folding in on yourself as the incident repeated in your mind. 

“Dude!” she scolded lightheartedly, trying to feign annoyance, and of course failing. She stuck out her arm to show you a deep scrape right above her elbow. “This shit burns.” 

You caught your breath and stepped closer, eyeing the scrape. It was rather gnarly, and you inwardly winced at yourself knowing it was probably going to scab horribly.

“Damn,” you muttered to yourself, holding her arm and twisting it to get a better look. Joel eyed the way you two interacted, pulling away from his task as he glimpsed the bloody splotch on Ellie’s elbow. 

From where he was, he couldn’t exactly make out the words that you two exchanged, your voices lowered significantly. From the look of it, you were offering an apology. He didn’t catch the way you smiled up at her apologetically, but he was positive that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him when you leaned in and placed a harmless, healing kiss onto her arm, right above the scrape.

It was, in reality, lighthearted and childish. A testament to your playfulness, your eagerness to please Ellie’s heart. 

And although Ellie didn’t realize it, there was a flicker of emotion that crossed her face. A change in her eyes; in the way that she looked at you. It flew over your head, too; busy smiling up at her, pulling her closer with the strength of the sun’s gravity. 

But Joel noticed. He caught this sudden change, this glimmer on Ellie’s face. He felt the complexities of youth and new emotion washing over him again, a short chuckle leaving his lips as he turned away, focusing back on fixing the screen door. 

Later that night, he pulled Ellie aside. 

“Hey, kid. I’m gonna need you to keep the door open when she’s around, alright?”

“What?” Ellie asked, utterly oblivious. A look of distaste flittered across her features. 

He was trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, knowing all too well that if he pushed too hard or looked too stern, Ellie would just defy him out of her own stubborn nature. He folded some blankets over the couch, eyes avoiding hers. “Just keep it open, Ellie.” 

She groaned in annoyance and threw her head back, hands falling to her sides. She looked truly exasperated, confused with this sudden change in house rules. 

That night, as the door remained cracked open, Joel walked by Ellie’s bedroom to sort some towels in the hallway closet. His ears picked up her frustrated tone; “…wants me to leave the door open now. Never heard of a rule as stupid as that, but whatever.” 

You giggled calmly, then fell silent for a second. “It’s okay. My mom has that rule too, for my brother and his girlfriend.” 

And he could almost hear the way Ellie’s face scrunched up, a confused groan escaping her again. She failed to reply, and the topic at hand was dropped as soon as you leaned over to her and showed her a page from a new comic, rambling on about how the plot hole in this series was diabolical. 

He silently walked away, mind wandering as he tried to think about how to approach this blooming situation, a flicker of both hope and protection illuminating in his chest. 

It was junior year of high school when the foundation of your friendship began to split, allowing something else to slip into it. Something sneaky, deceitful, something that constantly rendered you speechless and warm. 

You no longer rode your bikes or shared comic books; you were much too old for that now! Ellie had just gotten her license, a little too eager to drive Joel’s old beat up truck around with you in the passenger seat. And, of course, the both of you felt like true teenagers when you finally got phones.

You sat on Ellie’s bed, your knees pulled to your chest as you scrolled through your timeline. You giggled at random collages of pictures and videos, occasionally showing your screen to Ellie in hopes that she would laugh with you. 

She sat on the other end of the bed, a rolled joint held delicately in her fingers. Joel wasn’t home, and her bedroom door was closed. The walls of her bedroom trapped the both of you with the smell of it, but you were slowly learning to not mind it as much. 

When you first received a phone, you found yourself diving into social media, trying to keep up with this sudden boom of a new language, new jokes, new form of communication. Ellie, on the other hand, never touched her phone. If she was using it, it was probably because she was texting you. She refused to engage with any social media at all, meaning you had to sit and explain new jokes and trends to her. Sometimes, she’d try her hand at new lingo or an ongoing joke, but failed so miserably each time that you’d roll over her bedsheets in laughter. 

She pressed the joint to her lips, eyes lazy as she looked at you with longing. The brightness from your screen illuminated your face, emphasizing every beauty mark and freckle. 

“Hey,” she started, voice low. “C’mere.” 

You looked up at her in curiosity, putting your phone down. Your eyes stayed trained on her as you scooted closer, the sides of your legs pressing against hers. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the smoke or the way that you peered up at her that made the center of her body feel warm. She tilted her head away from you as she exhaled, the smoke clouding the space between you two; your heart thundered in your chest. 

“Almost done,” she promised, voice only a little raspy. “Missed you; that thing is hoarding all your attention.” The corners of her mouth twitched. 

“Is not!” you defended, shoving her shoulder with your own. “I’m right here.” 

“Yeah,” she began, her hand coming up to tap at your head playfully. “But you’re not here. Let’s do something; been wanting to play a few rounds of that old zombie game.”

It was how you end up pressed into each other’s sides, hollering and giggling at the tiny TV screen on her bedroom dresser. You played erratically, your fingers relying on nonsensical button smashing to survive. Ellie had to constantly revive you every five minutes, but never mentioned it. 

She missed the way you squealed in anticipation with every new round that started, your eyes wide as you spoke with a constant smile. And, maybe it was from her high, but she was a little too intent in the way that she watched you, her mind feeling far away as she memorized every crevice of your face from the side. 

“Ellie!” you scolded, bringing her out of her daze. “No way you already died, the round just started!” 

She turned her attention back to the screen, scoffing as her player screen was black and white, her character eye-level with the ground. 

“Damn,” she muttered, surprised that she let herself slack off for so long. Too lost in your side profile, the dip of your lips, the way your lashes fluttered in surprise when a zombie attacked you in-game. 

Your character raced towards her, shooting around sloppily before you pressed the buttons to revive her. Her hand found itself on the top of your thigh, right above your knee. Perhaps it was the fogginess of her mind, or a newfound boldness that spurts through her; but she squeezed at your leg, her eyes stuck on the screen. “Thanks,” she says a little too nonchalantly, like that was completely normal. 

You swallowed thickly, your own movements faltering. There was a red ring forming around your player screen, indicating that you were being ruthlessly attacked. 

She snickered, her voice playful. “Focus.” 

The two of you kept on, your mind instead slipping up and focusing a little too hard on the way she touched you. 

It was senior year when that particular, sneaky something begins to widen the cracks in your relationship. A feeling that blurred your vision, blurred your mind. A feeling that made it impossible to correctly decipher whatever it was that Ellie was going through, and the two of you began to fall apart. 

It mostly started when Ellie got a job at a skate shop. For the most part, it was relaxed, her days consisting of seeing the same people come and go for wheels and decks. But it meant that she had less time to spend with you. 

Initially, she would use every single day off to see you. To invite you over or to laze around on your fluffy duvet, listening to you ramble about your nervousness as graduation was approaching. She would take you out, spoil you rotten with the excitement of her new paychecks, saying fuck all to saving any money. 

And in reality, you didn’t care about the way she spoiled you; granted, it was nice and certainly made your heart beat a certain way, but you mostly valued that she made the effort to see you still. Exchanging silent words and looks across the classroom was no longer sufficing your yearning heart. 

Months passed and Ellie started to become a little bit more focused on balancing school and work; she was set on saving as college approaches, and you figured that the prospect of growing up had changed her. She was set on a college, set on astrophysics, set on buying Joel some land and maybe, hopefully, spoiling you some more in a few years down the line…

But she was maybe a little too caught up in it. She saw you less and less, accidentally channeling her friendly energy to her coworkers. And while you knew there was nothing wrong with that, you couldn’t help the bitter taste that rested on your tongue when she constantly brought up the names of others that you’d heard of countless times. A part of you wanted to turn to her, ask her so pathetically, why can’t you do the same with me?

You started to really feel like you were losing her when you finally got the chance to sit in her room again, the both of you babbling about what you think college will look like. At first, the comfort of her poster-covered walls and space trinkets settled your restless heart, and you had felt at home with her again. 

It wasn’t until she slipped away to use the restroom, leaving her phone on her bed. The screen illuminated as it buzzed once, twice— three times. You should’ve left it alone, thinking maybe it was Joel warning her he’d be late from work. But you leaned over anyway, reading over the text on the screen.

For one, it was a coworker. You recognized the name on the notification; and for some reason, when you realized it was from the only other girl at her workplace, a horrible feeling nestled into your stomach. 

And then you couldn’t help the minor feeling of betrayal as you realized they had been messaging each other on a social media platform; one of the many things Ellie swore up and down that she’d stay away from. 

You didn’t even follow her on there. She never told you. 

It’s silly, you thought. Ellie can do whatever she pleased. But this new turn of events, this tiny thing that was still so out of character; the foundation between you two felt almost completely severed. 

Weeks passed from that day and you them found yourself pulling away. The both of you were accepted into the same college, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel excited. Ellie begged you to fill out your housing papers on time so that the two of you could be roommates, but you purposefully procrastinated. You weren’t sure you could handle such close proximity with her anymore. 

It was with this that the gap between the both of you widened. She didn’t drive you home anymore; it was time to put your own license to use. You two no longer exchanged knowing looks across the room, and you sure as hell didn’t share dinner with Joel anymore, either. You started to forget the exact layout of her bedroom. 

Graduation came and went; you spent it in solitude, not really counting the presence of your family members. Ellie did race up to you and gave you a bone crushing hug, nose burying into your hair, but you were so caught up in it all that you didn’t reciprocate it. 

It was another one of those minor things that widened the gap, made her step away from you both physically and emotionally. 

Even when Joel offhandedly mentioned that he’d be okay with helping you move into your dorm, Ellie made up some excuse on the fly; saying your brother had it covered. She hadn’t even asked you.

So, just like that, summer passed in a blink. You spent your days curled up in your bed, wallowing. Ellie spent it trying to distract herself, losing herself in the presence of coworkers-turned-close-friends. You shamefully stalked her social media, tears pricking at your eyes as she posted places and things that seem so fun, so far away. Places and things that you would’ve liked. 

What hurt more was the constant questioning from your family. Where’s Ellie? What’s she up to?

Hell if you knew. You’d been relying on her story highlights for snippets of her life, and even then they were still so vague. Scenery, music, her guitar. Someone else’s hands holding a deck of cards, videos with incessant giggling in the background. God, you were almost sickly with both wanting and loneliness. 

And, just like that, it was freshman year again. This time, there was no seating chart. No binder for you to slip comic book covers into. No comfort of hopping on your bike and riding home with the only person that matters at your side. 

You were in some sort of emotional purgatory. Your mind blank as you walked around campus, as you stared at your laptop screen in the dead of night, body aching as you slumped over and completed your coursework. The excitement and late nights that you and Ellie had planned were nowhere to be found. 

On the other hand, Ellie busied herself so much, she found that she almost forgot you. Almost. 

Burying herself into her homework, mind trying its hardest to wrap around these new concepts. Partying, though she wasn’t not really there. Smoking some, drinking some. It all still felt lonely. 

She was enjoying this new group of friends, but they didn’t amount to the certain someone that still had their shape, their initials carved into the center of her heart. It was almost unbearable to exist without you; the two of you blending into each other so well, she still found herself saying things the way you did— the intonation, the little lingo, the mannerisms. Your existence was embedded into her own, folding over into her psyche so compact-tight, she knew she could never escape you. 

Ellie assumed that now, at this point, it was about carrying you in her soul even though you were no longer around. The beauty of this life; she’d lost you, but not entirely. Your personality reflecting in her own no matter what, no matter how hard she tried. Her existence was a testament to your own— someone’s been here. Someone’s loved me. 

Weeks passed. Months passed. The both of you constantly shuffling across the same campus, yet never running into each other. Your text messages now buried underneath more recent threads, your shared playlist long forgotten and neglected. 

Winter break hit and the loneliness bit just as much as the cold. When Ellie returned home, she noticed her old bike in the garage, propped up against storage bins, the tires flat. When you returned home, you came back to photos of the both of you, pinned to your wall. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you took them down, throwing them into a box in your closet. 

At the same time, yet separately, the both of you traversed new grounds, and odd fucked up forms of grief. Being in your own space yet running into things that reminded you of someone that you wanted the most. And it wasn’t not like they were gone; yet the both of you let go, deciding that somehow, it was for the better. 

The cycle repeated as the seasons changed. Instead of actually moving on, the both of you just somehow got better at repressing your emotions and acting like nothing happened. Occasionally reflecting on your friendship in a daydream, and then reminding yourself that somehow, it just wasn’t meant to be. It was time to move on— she was never yours. 

It’s summer now, the end of junior year. Ellie’s at her friend’s place, sipping on a poorly made drink as they play card games and tune into a new season of a trending series. She’s cross-legged on the floor, smiling to herself as her friends talk over each other, slamming the cards down on the coffee table and trying to warp the rules in their own favor. It’s fun, and it’s easy to sit back and watch everything unfold. 

She feels her phone in her back pocket vibrating; assuming it’s Joel just checking up on her, she gets up and excuses herself, slipping out the back porch door. 

When she reaches for her phone, her heart nearly stops beating altogether. In fact, she’s sure it does, as her stomach suddenly twists in confusion and pain, a small cough leaving her lips as she tries to collect herself. Your name shines on her screen as you call, and she’s so sure she’s hallucinating (the hell was in that drink?) until she swallows her surprise and answers. 

And there you are. Breathless, exhausted. Immediately, she knows. Despite it being so long, despite the fact that she’s not entirely sure she knows you anymore, she still recognizes the tone in your voice, recognizes that you needed her. 

“Where are you?” she blurts before you can finish your sentence, her body automatically pacing around. “Send me the address.” 

You’re apologetic, sounding defeated on the other side. You tell her over and over again, I’m sorry.

There’s weight behind the way you say it, like you’re apologizing for something more. Like you’re counting all those times you shut her out, the times you let her slip through your fingers. It’s weak and shaky, but Ellie doesn’t bring it up. She’s too busy slipping on her shoes, keys dangling from her fingers as she mouths to her friends that she’ll see them later. 

She stays with you on the phone the entire time she drives over to get you. She asks, over and over again, if you’re okay and in a safe area, and your heart twists with guilt and shame. You stay planted on the edge of the curb, looking like a wilted flower.

Ellie feels her heart drop to her stomach as she approaches the street that you sit on, her headlights illuminating your pathetic figure. She rolls down the window and pulls over, calling out to you. 

Your eyes are low, the shame blatantly evident on your face. Ellie’s not sure how this will unfold; this isn’t exactly the way she dreamed the two of you would reunite. But that look on your face— Ellie knows it well enough. You’re both 15 again, and you’re trying to hide within your own body somehow. She sees the embarrassment, the bitter feeling that sits at the center of your chest. 

You approach her car and observe at her through the window, eyes avoiding her own. You study her form, how much she’s grown. She’s got a new haircut; it’s shorter— gayer. You can almost imagine yourself laughing at her, can almost imagine twirling the short pieces between your fingers. A patch of black ink catches your eye just then, your gaze landing on her forearm. Since when did she get a tattoo? 

She unlocks the door, silently beckoning you in. You slump into the passenger seat, completely defeated, and she reads your body language well enough to know not to pry at the situation. 

She shifts the car into drive but realizes that she doesn’t even know where you live anymore. The car sits there, idle as she tries to figure out what to ask you and how, then you mutter the directions to your apartment, reading her confusion just as well. 

The sound of Ellie’s music is quiet, practically just a gentle hum as the two of you sit, rigid as you keep your gazes locked on the road ahead. You don’t intend to explain yourself or have some sort of emotional come-to-jesus moment with Ellie, figuring that this situation alone is already stressful enough. 

But, she clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak, eyes still locked on the street signs. “You see the trailer for the new Savage Starlight adaptation?” 

You give her an awkward chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, nearly whispering. “Looked like trash, honestly.”

Ellie laughs at that. Laughs. And god, it’s not the kind of laugh that kills her, but it’s a solid one; an honest one. It sounds so good as it erupts from her chest, the sound of it pouring into your ears and over your heart. Christ. 

Your eyebrow twitches and you have to turn your head to look out the window— you can’t let her see the look on your face. You’re sure your eyes are wide and pooling with some sort of desperation. 

And, of course, Ellie catches it. But she just cares too much about you, so she lets all these little thing slip by to keep you comfortable, to keep you with her for even just a second longer. 

The conversation stays trained on little comments, acknowledging new video game releases and comic book trailers as if the both of you are in high school again, caught up in your nerdy obsessions. The air is thick and steady; the both of you dancing around this thinly-veiled attempt to be normal. The smallest things, such as the sound of her clearing her throat, or her hand coming up to scratch at her cheek, make your skin crawl with anticipation. 

You brace yourself for the ball to drop, holding it so tight to your chest, you’re almost suffocating. 

And while there’s no way you’ll drop this act, desperately clutching onto this feeling of faux normalcy, you know Ellie will. She’s much too blunt and forward focused to let you both sit in this awkward, paper-doll like scenario; steadily crafting your sentences, training your eyes to avoid her. 

And, god— it’s almost too easy to let your body relax, to slip back into your old comfortable patterns with Ellie right next to you. Because she’s never been prideful, and never will be, with the way she smiles to herself and breathes: “I missed you. It’s been… really long,” she says the last part with a bittersweet chuckle. “Too long.” 

Your chest caves. Stupidly, eagerly, almost like it wanted to, this whole time. Your body feels prickly and warm, but you school your face to remain somewhat neutral. 

“Yeah,” you offer dryly. “I’m kind of surprised, actually.” 

At that, Ellie tilts her head, fingers fluttering around the steering wheel. “How come?” 

“That, like, you even showed up. And you’re actually being nice and taking me home. I figured you kinda hated my guts towards the end.”

Ellie’s body has a physical reaction to that, and she taps on the brakes by accident. Not hard enough to send the both of you flying forward, but just enough of a push. You whip your head towards her, watching the way she furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head. 

“Sorry. Not trying to be defensive, but why…” She swallows thickly. “Why would you think that? And of me, of all people?”

She’s so, so gentle with the way she says it. Her voice quiet and low, not wanting to scare you away with this sudden confrontation. She reeks of true curiosity and something else that seems like hurt. 

“I just,” you start, trying to gather your words, then pause, not really recognizing where Ellie is driving. “Hold on. Where are you—?”

She pulls into an empty parking lot, stopping the car at an awkward angle, careless about her parking etiquette. 

“I’m sorry. I really just wanna clarify things,” she breathes out, her tone hurried as if you’ll slip and fade away if she doesn’t explain herself fast enough. “But, if you want me to completely fuck off, I’ll take you home. Just tell me.” 

You remain quiet, looking at her with a face that reads half anxious, half eager. A mix of the two, both emotions so similar in nature that maybe it kind of looks like… excitement. 

Ellie turns her body in her seat so that she can face you directly. “I was never tired of you, ever.” She takes in a slow, deep breath, trying to pace herself and keep her voice steady. With you, she can become passionate very quickly, so she needs to remain cool. “If anything, I thought that you felt that way about me. You stopped comin’ around, didn’t even try to room with me, and completely bailed on my attempts to see you. Did I do something?” 

She’s completely disarmed. Her words woven with nothing but good intentions, the look on her face desperate for some sort of reconciliation. She eyes you carefully, and if you looked hard enough, you may have been able to catch the glimmer of want in her eyes. 

Overcome with emotion, you fumble. Too busy with wanting to just defend yourself, swinging around your sword with your eyes shut in the hopes that you won’t get hurt, you don’t even try to match her energy. 

“Well, yeah,” you bite back, not nearly as careful as she was. “You changed. Everything changed. You made other friends, new friends, and just left me behind,” you accuse sharply, not thinking straight. “You… went behind my back.”

Despite the way that you speak to her, Ellie’s face softens. She knows what this is about. She’s too understanding, too willing to do anything to get you back in her life. As the realization slowly dawns on her, her heart flutters both with yearning and a deeper need. 

It’s how you end up pressed against the backseat of her car, her mouth on yours as her hands roam freely around your body. You shut up rather quickly, mind blurring over with the oncoming release of years of pent-up wanting. You tried to keep arguing back at her, and she did nothing but talk to you in that sweet tone, with eyes that scream I love you.

It isn’t that she’s trying to coax you, or anything. It just happened as you begin to increasingly realize that she is not going to fight you; she just wants you. She needs you to know that, she has to make herself clear. 

Fog creeps up the car windows as she presses her knee in between your legs, rocking against you slowly. 

Ellie’s pacing herself; she’s thought about this a few times, guiltily. But in her mind, it’s always been in her bed, her mind crafting the scene of your body, your little sounds. It was like she had to slap her own hand away from herself sometimes. 

So while this isn’t exactly what she had daydreamed it would be, she still wouldn’t complain. Regardless of the situation, you were pressed into her, panting and sighing in ways that made her mind turn to soppy mush, overrun with desire and emotion. 

And, while she’s set on taking care of you and showing you just how much you meant and still mean to her, she can’t help but want to make you admit it too. 

She pulls back from kissing you, her eyes glazed over as she looks at your face. Holy shit.

Skin so warm, and you already look spent. She swallows, suddenly doubting how long she’ll be able to hold off. 

She bites back a satisfied smile before she dips down again, her face hidden in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, kissing all the way down. 

“Take this off,” she murmurs, fingers pulling at the waistband of your skirt. You do your best to follow her orders, cramped up in the seat, pulling your knees towards yourself in an attempt to shimmy out of the fabric. It catches on your ankle, hanging, and you giggle at the state of the situation. Ellie’s heart melts over itself, beating erratically; she’s going fucking crazy. 

You’ve done nothing but moan, twitch, laugh, and flutter your lashes. She hasn’t even felt you yet, hasn’t even seen your body in its entirety. And she’s gone. 

She almost raises an eyebrow at the sight of your skimpy little underwear, but her question catches in her throat. You were at the club, after all. Something sinks in her stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, observing the way the fabric clings onto you. 

Her fingers massage at your inner thighs, her knee firm in place as she keeps them set apart. Her digits dance right against your core, pressing against the fabric. You twitch, rolling your hips into her, fingers catching on the seatbelt behind you, gripping on for life. She laughs, but not necessarily at you. 

It feels like it takes her years (well, technically) to push your panties to the side, eyes falling hazy as she stares right into you. You’re so vulnerable, you try shutting your thighs close, but she pushes them apart again. 

“I know,” she hushes you, dipping lower to nip at your lips. “I know.” 

Her fingers trace over your folds, and you think you’re about to explode. You hadn’t expected Ellie to be the type to make this agonizing and painful, but you know you probably deserve it after your showcase of attitude. 

She draws her hand back and brings her fingers up to her mouth, sucking on them nonchalantly. A satisfied sigh escapes her as she finally, finally gets to taste you on her tongue. She lets her hand travel back down, and you turn your head to the side, shutting your eyes in anticipation. 

“Look at me,” she commands softly, stopping her fingers right where you want her. 

You nod, giving her the false promise that you will. Ellie sees right through it, and with her free hand she gently grips onto your face, turning you to make eye contact with her. 

She needed to see your face as she fucked you, she needed to know, after so long of wondering, how you looked when facing pure pleasure. 

Your lashes flutter, eyebrows screwing together as she slips her fingers inside your warmth, pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. She’s gentle in the way she stretches you out, working you through it with such care and patience. 

Ellie revels in the way your chest heaves already, pupils blown out with bliss. She moves her knee and lets you shut your thighs together, trapping her hand in place. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” she teases, her voice only a little prickly, but her smile says otherwise. “For me to touch you like this.” 

You nod silently, too busy biting on your bottom lip and rocking your body onto her fingers to reply. 

“Answer me,” she demands with the same softness, setting the tone. Her gaze is locked onto your face, memorizing every twitch of your brow, every whine that leaves your lips. 

It’s almost ridiculous how brainless you are already, melting beneath her entirely. 

“Needed you,” you manage to breathe out, nodding your head again. “So bad.”

Ellie hisses a swear, and she can’t help the way she leans into you, pressing her body against yours. She curls her fingers inside of you, the palm of her hand nudging at your eager bud. She groans to herself as she feels your walls twitch around her digits, her head dropping low as if she has to stop herself from spiraling. She’s hanging on by a thread; a hair, wanting nothing more than to fuck you senseless. But it’s been too long, and she’s got something to prove to you. 

Her eyes shine as she feels your body grow tense, your wriggling becoming more constant. She slows down her pace, watching closely as your mouth drops, a pout playing at your lips. 

“Please,” you begin, and she smiles. 

“Please what?” 

“Please, fucking just,” you try grinding on her fingers, lashes fluttering. “Oh my god,” you sigh, that little attitude trickling in your tone. 

She scoffs, almost meanly. She stops her movements entirely, fingers falling slack in your pussy. “Yeah? Do it yourself, then.” 

And to her surprise, you do. That attitude is wiped clean from your voice as you whimper pathetically, body rolling, walls fluttering as you try to fuck yourself with her fingers. She stares at you in awe, throat running dry. 

It takes her a second, but she blinks and she’s falling back into you. Watching as you desperately chase your release, bumping your clit onto her hand, and you absentmindedly grab onto her arm, trying to anchor yourself. 

She sucks her teeth and sighs to herself. She had intended to drag this out, to make you beg, to make you say that you were hers all along. But with the way you hold onto her, shamelessly rutting your hips, her name falling off your lips like a prayer— she already knows it’s all true. 

She’s kind enough to start thrusting her fingers again, moaning at the way your slick bundles at your entrance, coating her fingers and slipping down her hand. It’s obscene, but she doesn’t care. In fact, it gives her more of a reason to clean you up afterward. 

“Ellie,” you breathe suddenly, your little prayers becoming less coherent as a certain feeling creeps around, engulfing your body and mind. “I’m gonna cum,” you whine shamelessly, the heat in your stomach spreading lower and lower, your body tingling. 

She leans over you again, watching over your face as your eyes slip shut. 

“Go ahead, baby. Let me hear you.” 

It’s a demand but she still says it so softly, a certain tenderness behind her words. You choke on your own moan, body practically seizing as your thighs tighten, fingers digging into her arm. You chant a repeated I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, and Ellie smiles as you do anyway, your cunt swallowing her fingers with your release. 

Her hand relentlessly slaps against your core, even though you begin to tear up and beg for her to stop. She smiles to herself before she slowly drags her fingers out of you, bringing them back up into her mouth. 

It’s not nearly enough. While you slump back into the seat, panting, body still shaky from such strong sensations, she’s busy maneuvering her body to sit on the floor of the car and propping your legs onto her shoulders. 

You blink as you slowly come back to reality, your mind hazy. 

“Ellie,” you start softly, reaching out your hand. 

She reaches up and intertwines your fingers, eyes locked on your dripping cunt as her voice carries over to your ears. “I’m right here. Can’t let it go to waste.” 

Your eyes roll back, another string of moans escaping you as Ellie shuts her eyes and latches onto your clit, moaning into your pussy. 

The hours of the night escape both of you, becoming lost in each other in the back of her car, cementing your fate. 

Ellie laughs at your blank expression, her hand rubbing down her face in disbelief. 

“That was so… garbage. Beyond garbage. Landfill levels of trash,” you say weakly, the soft lights of the movie theater reflecting off your face. 

She continues giggling at your side, hand over her mouth in an attempt to be quiet despite the fact that the movie is already over. 

You playfully swat at her arm, turning to her, face ridden with shock. “There’s no way you’re not disappointed! This shit was such a waste of money. We were better off pirating it.” 

She shakes her head and smiles to herself, hand wrapping around your own as she pulls you to stand up with her. “I think it was well worth it; it was, like, funny bad.” 

You stand, wrapping your arm around her own as you two trail down the steps of the theater. You continue picking the movie apart, disdain in your voice. You have a reason to be passionate; this lazy attempt at turning Savage Starlight into a box office success had taken a terrible turn, the movie filled with stupid one-liners and god awful acting. 

You should’ve known; it’s been a month since the trailer dropped— or, since you and Ellie came back together. A month of everything falling into place, the pieces of your individual lives slipping back into the way they used to be. A month of constant, whispered confessions, making up for lost time; lovelorn kisses, touches fueled by years of yearning. Pursuing your lives together again, and of course, falling back into your geeky little habits— the one thing that brought you together in the first place, anyway.

You shouldn’t have walked in with such high expectations after the both of you predicted how awful it was gonna be once you both sat down to rewatch the trailers together. 

As the two of you make it outside of the building, Ellie bites her cheek at the way you continue to ramble, the passion in your voice making her heart swell. There is just too much to adore about you. 

“Hey,” she starts, voice low. 

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

Ellie nods her chin in the direction of her car, mischief written all over her face. “I know a way to give you a happy ending.”

You groan in annoyance, pushing her away. Your voice rings out and into her ears, settling her restless heart as you scold her, a smile showing through.

“Ellie!”

[iid-smile]

sunrise and sunset , nanami kento

x fem!clingy!reader ! nanami calls the reader "love" and "darling". the reader cuddles with nanami!!! the reader also loses sleep because of his love because thats cute.

author's note: nanami is so yellow but there's no option for it so he has to be orange </3 tell me why i was actually swooning while i was thinking about these scenarios in my head? especially the second one???? i think everybody agrees that nanami is a listener 100%

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

sunrise.

nanami always wakes up before you. he used to get up as soon as his eyes opened, but nowadays, he has a little something holding him down.

it seems like you never fall asleep on your side. that's partly his fault, since he's always beckoning you to come closer to him. but even then, in the morning, he feels himself teetering off the edge of the bed, with two arms wrapped around his neck, and his now asleep arm still wrapped around your waist. slightly dangerous for him, but as long as you feel comfortable, then nothing else matters. seeing your pretty face first thing every day was a blessing.

"kento..." there it is. your tiny mumbles of you waking up.

nanami's lips immediately curl upwards at the sound of your voice. as gently as he can, he sits up more against the headboard, keeping your head laid on his chest. "i hear you." he responds.

the bedroom is quiet and tranquil. he specifically bought black out curtains for your sake, but considering the price, they really weren't doing the best job. mornings in summer were relentless, taking into the account how early the sun rises, and it would wake you up in the middle of your sleep with how bright it was outside. no worries though, since he has plans to replace them very soon.

you mumble again, lips grazing against his shirt. "why aren't you up yet?"

"i don't have work today." obviously a lie. you may be a bit dumb, but you're well aware it's a weekday today, and nanami isn't the best liar.

you lift your head, gaze shooting up to meet with his. "yes, you do! it's a wednesday." you whisper-yell. "you should be up 'nd getting ready..."

"my day doesn't start until yours does." you feel his hand on top of your head, coaxing you to lay it back down. "if i'm late for work, that's fine. you're more important to me." his touch moves up to your upper arm, and his thumb rubs in lazy circles. "go back to sleep, love. you're tired."

"you're too sappy 'n sweet... gonna make me swoon every time you open your mouth, i swear." you grumble.

"then i'll catch you every time."

"stop!"

sunset.

nanami always reads a book before bed. it's usually historical genres, he's not a big fan of sci-fi or comedy. but sometimes, he'll let himself indulge in the odd romance book here and there. why? they're your favourite genre, the books you read. he memorises each different author that he spots you reading, often gifting you another one of their works if he knows you're not having a good day.

finally, you emerge from the bathroom door, a few folded clothes ready to be put away in the laundry hamper. when you turn to him, you watch his eyes intently as they follow the words on the pages. "that's..?"

"i saw you enjoying it this afternoon." he flips a page. you move closer to the bed, crawling on top of the mattress and inviting yourself into the blankets. "you looked particularly thrilled during it. what do you like about this story?"

you pause, thinking over the entire plot. "it reminds me of us."

nanami can only smile, and he doesn't miss the one on your face. closing the book, he places it on the bedside table, and scoops his other arm underneath you. naturally, you rest your head on his shoulder, and hook one of your legs over his. the small distance between the two of you felt that much more intimate that you felt the need to lower your voice. "are you going to sleep?"

"no." the hand wrapped around your waist moves up to your head, just placing it on top of your scalp. "i want you to talk. you seem eager to talk about it."

you giggle inwardly, snuggling impossibly closer to him. "i'm so in love with you." you whisper.

"i love you too, darling. more than words can express." he whispers back.

no wonder you always wake up so late. it's because nanami always has your heart beating too fast before you go to sleep.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[pearlzier]

︵︵ DAY ONE ﹐ PRAISE ☆

ᰍִ ꒰ KINKTOBER. ִ✧ㅤㅤ masterlist.

WARNINGS .ᐣ praise. p in v. riding. sub!matt. dom!reader. afab!reader. matt comes in reader (this keeps happening i will break the streak of. not pulling out soon)

NOTES .ᐣ completely irrelevant to the fic but i love my bf sm :(((( sam fan account right here guys !!!!!!!! also im like a few days behind completely ignore that x also i hate this LMFAOOOO

"C'MERE, PRETTY GIRL," matt murmurs lowly, his blue eyes lifting up to yours almost desperately. he looks up at you through his lashes, trying his absolute hardest not to buck his hips upwards needily. but god, it's hard. he wants you so fucking bad. you'd practically been teasing him the entire day, he couldn't take it anymore. most definitely couldn't take the fact you started teasing him whilst what he wanted was only a few moments away. grasping tightly at the bedsheets beneath him, his plush lips part a little with his deepened breathing. "wanna feel you on top of me."

it's hard not to want to immediately give in—it's a real enticing offer. but it was a little bit of payback considering the way he insists on teasing the life out of you any other time you're as horny as he is right now. you don't say anything, considering whether you should just hop on and give him the ride of his life. you decided that would be the best option.. you wanted it just as bad as he did, maybe even more.

with a soft hum, you nod your head. your eyes flutter up and down matt for a moment, and you watch the way his eyes light up at the sight of your nod. you really do adore him, damn it. swallowing thickly, he shifts where he's sat, which encourages you to crawl your way over to him. he'd done the job of pushing down his sweats for you, being far too eager to wait for you to do it for him. with a little dip in the mattress due to the shift in weight, you make your way over to him.

the moment you move to straddle him, he lets out a soft moan. biting his lip to ensure he doesn't let out any more sounds, he shuts his eyes instantly when your weight settles onto him. matt's head tilts back a little against the headboard, and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he ends up taking control and getting what he wants, needs. a shuddering breath escapes him as he reaches his hands out for you, gently slipping his fingers over your thighs. "fuck," he mumbles under his breath. "can't wait to be inside you.."

"yeah?" you ask softly, a quiet grunt making its way past your lips when you feel the way he's straining beneath his boxers, and the way his hands glide over your thighs. tilting your head to the side a little bit, a little smile spreads across your lips at the sight of him so needy. "you're so perfect, baby," your words are quiet, reverent. he really is. god, he's the perfect boyfriend. and the sound of what you'd said practically have his head swimming with thoughts of you, and you alone.

shifting his hips beneath you a little, he looks up at you with the most adoring look known to man. "mmh. please, wanna feel you," he murmurs, "need you, need to fill you up, please.." both of you can feel his cock throbbing, practically begging to be released from the confines of his boxers. you'd be a fool to deny him of that, so you nod once more, "i know," before you lean forward and start to ease his boxers down his tense thighs.

matt's breath catches in his throat and he lets out a shaky exhale, his hands on your thighs tighten a little bit. he wants to be good for you and let you take them off, yes, but at the same time, he's losing his patience. his hips lift a little, and he whines, "c'mon," voice a little pathetic, desperate, his eyes lift to yours again. "can't wait anymore. need to feel you, please." he sounds so pretty like that, practically begging to feel you.

"m'goin' as fast as i can," you muse, amusement in your tone at how needy he's behaving. matt scoffs quietly, swallowing hard. the pulsing of his cock beneath the cotton of his boxers is so distracting, he can barely think straight. he's pretty sure he's stained the fabric with precum, but he couldn't care less at the moment. "don't tease me," he's practically begging you to hurry the fuck up. "wasn't any point in you wearin' panties either, but.."

"oh, my bad," a laugh escapes you, and you roll your shoulders in a shrug. all while easing your panties down your thighs, matt's eyes following the entire time. he groans the instant you tug them down, whining. just the sight of your warmth has him reeling with the thought of you fucking yourself on his cock like that's all he's good for. "shit, you gotta sit on me, baby," he whimpers, squeezing at your hips instantly when you've finished taking off your panties.

at this point, you feel you've teased him enough by now. and you do wanna feel him, hear the pretty way he moans your name and whines when you lift your hips up and down. so you quickly sit up, moving so you're hovering over top him. he'd had so much restraint, you're proud of him, he hadn't touched himself once in the time it'd taken you to pull off your underwear.

though it doesn't take you long to sink yourself down on his length, moans slipping past both of your lips at the moment your bodies connect. he pushes his hips a little, the tip of his cock slowly breaching past your wet folds, your hips slowly easing you down until you met his own. matt's practically melting beneath you, his thighs tensing and his heart practically racing beneath his chest. "oh my god," matt whines, not a single bit of shame in the sound. "holy shit."

"s'that.. good?" you ask quietly, gasping as your cunt flutters around him, and it only causes matt to lose his shit more. you feel so damn good, more than good. he can't explain it. he doesn't wanna finish early, you'd only just sat yourself down on him, but your warmth makes him feel so fucking amazing. "more than that, fuck, way more than that," he's fully aware he sounds pathetic like this but he couldn't care less. nothing was pathetic about how good you made him feel.

when he finds himself buried in you to the hilt, he has to relax against the bed for a moment. you take the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, and he groans, his hips bucking upwards into you instinctively. it causes you to let out a similar sound, and matt can't take it. it's something about your mewling moans that has him weak, has him barely resisting the urge to start pounding his hips up into yours to chase the bliss you're granting him. "feels perfect—" his grip on your hips tightens and he tugs you further on him, aiding you in your movements by rocking you forward on him.

"ridin' me so good.. perfect fuckin' pussy, y'know that? could die here, right here," he slowly rocks his hips up, to meet your motions. "just like that, feels so good, feels amazing, baby," you're just as whiny as he is, it's no competition. with each rut of your hips, you let out sweet moans that have him practically preening beneath you for every little thing you do. it doesn't just feel good, god, no, it sounds good too.

"you hear that?" you mumble, as the movements of your hips pick up and opposed to just rocking yourself down on him you start to lift your hips up and down. the lewd, obscene sounds of wet skin smacking against the other is music to his ears, "yeah? yeah.. sound of that cunt of yours taking me so good, that's it.. nnh, fuck," his sweet girl, his baby—only one for him. he's barely holding on right now, the slick sounds of your pussy gliding up and down the length of his cock, the feel of your warmth around him.. even just the press of your thighs against his own when you move. he's weak.

matt lives to praise you, lives to make sure you know how much he treasures you. "please, please, mmh, fuck yourself on my dick, baby.. there we go, how'd i get so lucky, huh?" his hands slide down to your ass and he kneads the flesh tightly in his hands, giving you a quick smack which causes you to yelp. a giggle bubbles from your throat too—"mmh, how'd i get so lucky? that this dick's all mine?"

"all yours," matt doesn't need convincing to agree to that, he knows it. he's all yours, he's got no hesitation. "this dick's all yours.. yeah, 'n' your pussy's all mine? to please? make you feel good? wanna make you feel so good, honey, i—shit, wanna.." matt gets so rambly and babbly when he's about to come. it's something about you riding him that makes his resolve decline, he barely lasts long like this. he doesn't even want to, he wants to show how good you make him feel and how you deserve all the praise he gives you.

"mhm.. yeah, yeah, pussy's all yours," you agree, feeling yourself clench around him a little. matt lets out a strained groan, and he starts to cant his hips upwards, ensuring that the tip of his cock sets a bruising pace in hitting that sweet spot inside you. if he's gonna come, you're reaching your climax too. those are the rules, he'd set them a while back. "all," your words are punctuated by heavy drops of your hips down onto his own, causing his thighs to tense heavily beneath you. "fuckin'. yours."

with the final word, yours, the pressure overwhelming him comes to a stop and he finds himself painting your insides white with his release. he wouldn't be surprised if he just kept going, with how powerful it felt, and especially with how your cunt clenches around him and flutters with your own release. he gasps shakily, as do you—"feels so good, fuck, oh.. oh, shit, that's it, there... fuck."

it didn't take him much effort at all to praise you to show you your worth—it was second nature by now.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling, @eternaldecisions, @httqvi, @gibson-g1rl, @zayluvss, @angelssdreamss, @gxldenlush ִ ꒱

[nysrage]

THE HOUSE PARTY, Onyankopon.

synopsis: after long nights of studying & days of grueling tests, you needed an outlet to relax. you didn’t expect to do it with your crush though.

content: ony’s an alpha, college au, house party, sororities & fraternities, alcohol, explicit language, sexual tension, college ‘crush’ that’s rlly yo man, a smidge of fluff, & smut.

nys note: would you believe this was all inspired from the twitter link below… lol it’s giving ‘options’ remix for ony.

Midterms had finally come to an end and everyone on campus could finally take a deep breath. whether they passed or failed, they were all looking for an outlet to get school work off their mind. Including you. The first year of college has been an adjustment, juggling school and finally being on your own. exploring different sides of yourself, making friends and losing bonds that you thought would last forever. it could all pile up at times. plus the overwhelming tears were growing old, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you seeked a party was because you wanted to see your lil ‘friend’ tonight too. midterms had the two of you so busy with little time to speak focused on nothing but your education. so you decided to join the scene with your girls.

The street of the apartment complex was full of people either just arriving, talking, smoking, or waiting to get behind that door of the house party. Thrumming of the speakers could be heard before even reaching the top of the stairs, the opening door pouring out clouded smoke soon as it opens. You and your group of friends navigate through the crowd. Each of your index fingers locked into eachothers belt loops so no one could get lost or pulled away without notice. The house dimmed and filled with ambient led lights. People of all different backgrounds crowded to each corner with either a cup, blunt, or some ass in their hands. Letting loose for the night and celebrating their time as a college student.

You and your group of 3 settled behind the enclosed circle of people dancing and catching ass. Finally happy with the view you had of everyone and the exits of the place, throwing back a couple shots and dancing to the music. Recording the whole moment on the camcorder your influencer bestie brought to vlog her stay. The content being provided to her back to back since the night began, and even more more since that whistle of the sorrors and frats began. The intro of ‘another nasty song’ oozing out of the speakers, groups of people surrounding the greeks as they lineup for their strolls.

The alphas happening to be right next to you and your friends, performing their stroll so perfectly. That black and old gold contrasting nicely against their skin. One alpha in particular catching your eyes. Onyankopon, your lil friend that you found yourself pinning over since you stepped onto campus. Nice chocolatey smooth skin, thick brows, full lips, and a small faded curly fro. Dimpled cheeks and pretty white teeth on display as he strolls, glancing over the surrounding people until they landed on you. Looking you over real good, biting down on his bottom lip between their signature words “Who You Wit?” Many of their seducing looks they give to their audience.

The dj transitioning into the throwbacks once the strolls were done. ‘party’ by beyoncé filling the room, as your favorite alpha towered over you. “okayy, friend! you lit huh?” you giggled, giving him a playful pat to the chest. “What’s goin’? Ain’t seen you in a minute.” acknowledging your nosy friends with a nod, busy whispering and betting on when y’all would cut the act. “Been out the way, y’all new jackets are nicee!” Toying with the zipper on his fraternities varsity jacket, looking himself over slightly with a smirk. “Preciatee it, preciatee it.. You look good too.” His monotone voice barely audible over the blasting music. Leaving you leaning in to hear his words best you could, “Huh? Couldn’t hear you.” just for ony to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you close, sexy voice speaking intently in your ear. “You look good as fuck right now.”

“Thank you.” whispering back shyly, all flustered and looking anywhere but his face. Refusing to fall into the trap of men, but the longer you two talked to each other the more you found yourself wanting him more. He was upperclass, only by a year but he was still very known around camp, and not bad looking in the least. Walking different girls to class, seducing woke with one look during his stroll, and always dressed to impress whether it’s chill or not. You wanted nothing to do with being another girl in his roster, but the two always seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Ony glanced behind him, scoping out the small space. “C’mere..” taking your hands in his and pulling you close to dance, swaying your body back and forth. Ony bending down to your height to whisper in your ear, “Missed you pretty girl.” His voice deep and smooth, traveling from your ear and straight to your core. “Looking and smelling all delicious tonight.” running his hands along your hips, admiring the slight fit your put on for the function. “Someone’s had a few, been partying good huh?” Dodging those little comments, trying your best to steer the convo but ony wasn’t having it. Not tonight. “This cool n’ all, I was really tryna be on sum chill tonight.”

“Really? after being tied down to class these past few weeks.” not convinced of anything but ony was persistent. “even after being tied down.”

Replying with a small hum, the tension between you was louder than the speakers in the room. Ony just staring at your pretty face without much to say, nerves leaving you rocking back and forth. “what..?”

“tryna follow me? need to talk to you.” Maybe it was the liquid courage but tonight you’d take your chances even if it was for one night only. So you let your friends know of your whereabouts, and followed him to his room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Walking around the space, taking it all in. Very neat, cozy, and smelled of mahogany teakwood. His desk area full of intricately placed papers and photos of his personal achievement, family, and friends. The click of the door and his voice pulls your mind away from the frames. “Why you keep playing?”

“We’ll your bold all of a sudden..” You huffed, typing away nervously at your phone. Randomly in your bestfriend message thread just to avoid those pretty brown eyes you always got so lost in. “M’serious. Why you playing games?”

“This got to be the liquor talking.” You chuckled, pushing your hair from in your face. “I don’t play games ony..” Finally meeting his eyes, arms crossed as the two of you went back and forth. “Mmcht, ain’t no need for liquid courage. This oblivious shit ain’t getting me where I need to be, and that’s with you.”

“There’s nothing oblivious here ony..” Trying to convince not only him but yourself. You couldn’t grow weak in the knees the first time he pressed your relationship, not when he could be filling your ear with anything he wants. “So you can tell me face to face that you don’t want me too..?” Voice sweet and sincere. His eyes darting nervously around your face waiting for your answer. Not one cocky or proud bone in his body that led you to believe he was feeding you bullshit for just another notch in his belt. All of those walls falling just enough to let him in, finally admitting to yourself that the attraction was mutual. “I c-can’t, cause I want you too.”

Ony takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips from your nervousness. Thumb lifting your chin to put that pretty face on display for him. Running the pad of his thumb along the soft skin of your face. “You know you my baby, lemme in that pretty mind of yours. So I can get to know all of you and make you mine.” and those words were sealed with the soft feeling of his lips on yours. A small peck that had you going back on every single word you meant to stand on. “You gone stay with me..?” Nodding your head with a soft smile. Ony pulling you in for yet another kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and intertwining it with yours. Swallowing the whimper you gave him when his strong hand collided with your ass. Kiss so hot and steamy that it lead you right into his bed, where you’ve wanted to be for as long as the two of you were friends.

“o-ohh my godd!” Moaning out loud as you wanted, every sound from his room drowned out by the thrumming speakers in the distance. House party still going strong whether he’d been occupied or not.

Lips red and swollen from how much you’ve been biting down hard on your lip while ony had you in doggy, taking his deep strokes. Moans falling constantly from your lips while your warm slick pooled around his pretty brown dick. Filling you up so full and caressing that sweet spot within, strong hips colliding with your ass as ony watches the recoil. “Mmm, damn that pussy feel so fucking good.” hand gripping at your fleshy hip, eyes focused on where the two of you were connected. listening to the beautiful sounds of his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit, and the gushing squelch of your pussy had him losing himself inside you. His moans and groans mixing with yours as he gave you every inch of that dick. “mh—ouu, shittt. mhmm.” voice shaking from that fast approaching nut he’d been holding out on. Wanting a few more out of you himself before he was finished with you.

“Yes onyy, you fuck me so good!” but after these few words from you, he found himself letting go. “Yea, you like this dick?” hips pistoning faster, pounding into you hard and steady leaving your eyes meeting the back of your skull. Wet two-toned pussy gripping him tight to suck him in deeper, as a strings of incoherent moans were exchanged between you too. “ima give you all the dick you want.” Angling his hips towards that spot that greeted him with a stream of squirt, drenching both your thighs and his pelvis. Dick barely staying inside from how wet you were for him. Pulling out and leaving hot streams of nut on your ass, panting and moaning as he came back to. That heavy feeling of something sitting atop of your ass never fading, “Your still hard..?” you questioned, looking back at him with your pretty fucked out face. Giving him that last push to have him standing at attention again.

“you thought i was done?” he chuckled, sinking back into you with a loud squelch.

[shy-writer-999]

Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)

Warnings: MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author’s note: Part One is tame angst and pure plot (no smut), ~5,400 words. Part Two will have all the smut, so stick around for that. I have a fascination with the idea of Zoro pining over you in secret and getting flustered and embarrassed about it. In this fic, Zoro’s ego gets bruised and you comfort him. You both get drunk and Zoro runs his mouth too much. It’s a slow burn like my last fic and will also end with smut (◡‿◡✿) Plz note that the reader is sort of giving OC, she (you) gives a brief description of ‘losing’ her virginity to some guy from ‘back home’.

TW: Alcohol abuse – Zoro blacks out; also if you have emetophobia maybe skip this one? There's a brief nod to the usual hangover symptoms.

Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)

Word on the ship was that Zoro was still a virgin. It had slipped out somehow, maybe in a game of spin the bottle or never-have-I-ever. But you learned about it secondhand when Sanji made fun of him for it, right in Zoro's face. Sanji said something crude, along the lines of "Zoro's just mad because his virgin ass has never gotten his dick wet."

Zoro was immediately livid. His face turned red and he snapped back with "Shut up Sanji, you don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. Fuck you." Genuinely upset, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. When Sanji and Zoro bickered it usually had an element of playfulness, casualness, genuine annoyance, yes, but... you weren't sure that Sanji had said anything this cruel and embarrassing before, outing something that Zoro was, obviously, uncomfortable with and most likely embarrassed by.

You were surprised, both by Zoro’s reaction and the simple fact itself. You had always assumed that Zoro got action wherever he went, I mean, look at him. To think that he had never felt the touch of a woman… you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around it. And you felt like a creep because you were intrigued by it. Truthfully, your intrigue was not arousal but rather an earnest desire to learn more about this man who you had been developing feelings for, for months.

The only person who knew about your feelings was Nami. As soon as Sanji made the remark and Zoro stormed out, you immediately looked at Nami, and she glanced at you at the same time. It was like you exchanged a thought or read each other’s minds, one of those unspoken moments with your best friend across the room. It was a “what the fuck?” moment, a split second, but you knew that Nami would want you to go after Zoro and try to comfort him somehow.

You loved Sanji like a brother, but sometimes he could be a real asshole. “Nice one, Sanji,” you said sardonically, dead-pan and annoyed. “I think that was over the line this time.” You stared him down coldly. He immediately jumped to self-defense, but you waved your hand and told him to “can it,” as you exited onto the deck to see if Zoro was doing okay. You had no idea what you would say to him to make him feel better and you were sure that anything you said would come off as corny and patronizing, but you were damned well going to try. After all, it seemed like no one on the ship could talk about these things with Zoro except for you. There was something about you that made him open up, show a softer side, share things that he would otherwise have kept to himself.

Zoro was nowhere to be seen on deck, so that left only one option. You climbed up to the crow’s nest where he was sitting, scowling, and looking out over the open ocean. He was clearly mulling over Sanji’s comment in his head, turning it over and examining it from different angles, sitting in the embarrassment and trying to figure out why he felt so much shame. He never had put much energy into women, had no urge to ‘lose’ his virginity, as if that was an actual object that one could lose (he scoffed at the thought).

For a long time, Zoro felt like he wasn’t missing out on anything—as far as women were concerned, he couldn’t be asked. But in the past few months he had been feeling differently, no thanks to you. That’s why when he saw you climb into the crow’s nest after suffering that embarrassment from Sanji, he muttered fuck to himself and scowled even harder.

“Spare me the embarrassment,” he grumbled, turning his face away from you. He was starting to blush, but you didn’t notice it.

“That got you pretty worked up, huh?” You sat down on the floor near to him, cocking your head so you could peer more into his face, inspecting his impression, which he obviously did not feel like sharing.

Your observation was met with a terse silence.

“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. He turned to meet your eyes as your tone shifted and you were caught off guard by how vulnerable and tortured his expression was. “It’s not a big deal. No one on the crew cares or thinks any less of you. Sanji was just trying to get under your skin, he didn’t mean to be cruel or malicious. You know he loves you like a brother.”

Zoro sighed and rested his head in his hands. “I know. I don’t know why I let that jackass piss me off so much… I guess he struck a nerve. I- I’ve been feeling… I don’t fucking know. I guess I’ve been feeling kind of... self-conscious about it, recently…” He trailed off. You were shocked by his candor. You were used to him being honest and more vulnerable with you, but this was more than you had been expecting. He was truly opening up to you. You had never seen him show an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity before.

“Yeah?” You prompted, feeling like he had more that he wanted to say. He turned to you again.

“I never really gave a shit about this kind of stuff before, y’know? I’ve got other stuff to keep me busy. But… recently… I don’t know.” He sighed.

You nodded in response. Zoro was a man of few words when it came to emotional vulnerability, and you could tell that the conversation was coming to a close.

“Well, Zoro, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I was kind of a late bloomer so… I get it.” You looked at him carefully. “Let’s grab a drink later, ‘kay?” He nodded, and that was it.

You didn’t know that you were the main reason Zoro had been reflecting on being a ‘virgin’ (he hated that word). Talking to you about it made him feel some sort of way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something inside of him twisted a little bit when you had looked into his eyes so seriously and with so much care. He tried to shrug it off and went back to cursing Sanji in his head, avoiding the actual dilemma he was facing, choosing escapism and mentally berating Sanji instead.

---

That night, you and Zoro cracked open a few bottles of sake, as promised. You had done this countless times in the past and nothing weird or unexpected happened except a few lingering glances that you both played off. But tonight it seemed like Zoro was drinking more than usual. You got the impression that he was drinking away his sorrows or drinking to forget about how genuinely upset he had been earlier in the day.

You were matching his drinks, as you sometimes did, just for fun. It felt like a kind of silly competition between you two sometimes. But keeping up tonight was hard, you were already getting a stomachache and could feel the dehydration creeping in… you knew the hangover was going to be a monster.

When he got drunk drunk, Zoro could become callous, rude, sarcastic, kind of an ass. He never really sent that in your direction, it was frequently towards Sanji, sometimes Usopp, Luffy, even Nami, if he really was going crazy. It was your least favorite characteristic about him; it was concerning, and it was a huge turn-off. But usually it wasn’t too bad, only mildly annoying. At worst, it gave you a sort of mini-ick.

Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights, had it not taken an unexpected left turn. You and Zoro were the only crew members drinking, and everyone else was doing their own thing. It was dusk, warm outside, and the stars overhead were already breathtaking. You found yourselves back in the crow’s nest. This was honestly Zoro’s safe space—the isolation gave him peace of mind.

Zoro was laying on his side, with his head propped up on one arm, leisurely facing you. You had been bickering and talking over silly things for a couple hours at this point, like tidbits of sword-making history, or how much meat you’ve seen Luffy eat at once. After a lull in conversation, Zoro finally broached what had been on his mind all day, a nagging thought at the back of his head that he knew that he shouldn’t ask, but he grew bolder as he got drunker. And he was getting drunker.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began. “When did you lose your virginity?”

That was really out of the blue. You were shocked by the question, not expecting it at all. You two had never talked about anything like this. Oftentimes it was Sanji crossing the line and you telling him to fuck off. But for Zoro to go there…? Weird. He was presumably just wondering about it since you said you were a late bloomer too, and you guessed he must be seeking validation. After all, he was obviously embarrassed about the whole thing. A little reassurance and sincerity couldn’t hurt.

“Well, uh…” You hesitated. “I actually had sex for the first time a couple years ago.” That was enough of an answer, right? No point in oversharing.

“What was that like?” He got bolder, locking eyes with you. He was certainly drunk, and you were too. But beyond that, you felt the vibe shift and his eyes seemed more intense. Your voice got caught in your throat for a second. He probably was just seeking some reassurance, right? Everyone always talked about how they had a horrible first time, I’m sure he’s looking for more confirmation or something like that because he’s insecure… you said to yourself.

“Oh, uh… It wasn’t the best first time but also not the worst. It wasn’t as bad as everyone kind of makes their first time seem, if you know what I mean? It was with some guy from my hometown, we grew up together. Kind of like a childhood crush, boy-next-door type of vibe.”

Zoro felt a pang of jealousy. The alcohol pushed him deeper into a grave of embarrassment, rash behavior, and unspoken boundary breaking that he was about to start digging.

“Lucky guy.” He murmured, barely audible, as he shifted onto his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, now staring straight up. You could see him exhale, jaw clenching.

Wait, what did he just say? ‘Lucky guy’?

You had no idea how to respond to that. He seemed to be implying that the man you slept with was lucky. And why would that be?

An unsure “What?” escaped your lips. It was purely a reflex, you weren’t expecting a real answer, you figured he was going to laugh it off, you heard him wrong, something like that. This was like really out of character for him, at least in your experience. You had honestly wondered if he was asexual sometimes because he just never said stuff like this and had never talked about it to anyone on crew. To hear him ask about this sort of thing after all this time was surprising. Maybe there was a side to him that you never knew.

Without hesitation, Zoro responded immediately, doubling down. “I said, lucky guy.” He turned and looked at you and blush quickly flooded your face. He wasn’t smiling, and his gaze was bold and almost piercing, so… it wasn’t a joke. Unless it was? If he was fucking with you then that would be weird as hell.

“Oh, uh… I guess he was lucky! Hahaha…” You tried to play it off with an awkward smile and half-hearted chuckle, hoping he didn’t notice that your face was bright red.

But Zoro kept going. “Were you surprised that I’m still a virgin?” You now realized he was faintly slurring his words. “I’m just curious.”

What was up with all these questions? You sighed. Well, whatever he wants to find out I guess he’ll find out. Looks like we’re playing 20 questions.

“Yeah, Zoro,” you responded. “To be honest, I was surprised.”

“Why?”  He asked forcefully, but this time he sat up from where he was laying and pulled himself a couple of feet in your direction. This would make him maybe a foot away from you, looking at you straight on. Your heart beat quickened.

Ok now this is getting weird. What is his angle? He must be feeling bad about the whole thing and now he’s fishing for compliments. With this conclusion, you rolled your eyes at him and exhaled. You could be playful with him now that you realized he just had a bruised ego, it wasn’t more serious than that. He was being a little pathetic, but that was all.

“Zoro, I’m surprised because you’re manly, strong, and attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You kind of laughed.

And while you thought Zoro was fishing for compliments, you were wrong. He was finally asking you questions that had been burning in his mind for days. He sincerely wanted to know what you really thought of him, simple as that. And he was curious about your sexual life. He certainly was very drunk but even so, he still cringed as he asked each question. But fuck, he just had to know. He wanted to know so bad that he felt like he was suffocating. He had to have answers, but he was getting dizzy, his body felt heavy, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you.

He scooted closer again, so that your knees were touching. At this point your heart was beating out of your chest. His face was less than a foot away from yours. He may not have known, but you did have a painfully intense crush on him, and his closeness was having quite the effect on you. It was the same for him, too.

“Do you really mean that, or are you just saying it?” He slurred out again, stronger this time, leaning even closer. Your faces were maybe six inches away now. You were likewise feeling intoxicated, and it made time feel like it was slowing down, slogging along. Your intoxication was making you not only extremely thirsty (in both ways) but it was making you hyper aware and locked in to the blisteringly intense eye contact Zoro was holding with you, almost not blinking.

“I-I really mean it.” You squeaked out, almost as a whisper. Holy fuck, was he about to kiss you?

“Good.” He mumbled, and then he placed one of his huge hands on the cusp of your knee and thigh. He squeezed. You inhaled sharply. His eyes were still glued to yours. There’s no way he didn’t see your blush, it was vivid. He started to lean in, maybe for a kiss, perhaps he was advancing with no goal other than to be closer to you.

Right when you felt like you were about to explode from the blood rushing to your face and your heart beating out of your chest, Zoro’s eyes closed and he abruptly collapsed forward into your lap, letting out what sounded like a groan and then… was that…. Snoring? It looked like the alcohol suddenly hit him like a truck all at once.

Sure enough, you leaned over him and saw that he was passed out on your lap, mossy hair ruffled, and his mouth open ever so slightly. He is prone to sleeping randomly, you shrugged, and God, he looks so good. He even smelled good.

You sat there until you calmed yourself down, feeling his heavy weight in your lap, the warmth of his skin pressing onto yours. He hadn’t let go of your thigh yet. You shook his shoulder lightly. It was time for the night to be over—he needed to get off you so that you could get him water, a pillow, and a blanket. He’d have to fall asleep up in the crow’s nest because there was no way you could pick him up or drag him downstairs.

“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. “Zoro, you need to wake up a bit. You need to move so I can get you a pillow and blanket. It’s bedtime. Hey.” You shook him again and couldn’t help but notice the hard ripples of his muscles under his shirt. You paused for a moment and patted his head. “Zoro. Wake up.”

“Wha-what?” He groaned, raising his head ever so slightly.

“Zoro, I need to get up really quick. Lay down on your side for me, ok?

He groaned again, making your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that noise was hot. Sheesh.

Evidently a colossal effort, Zoro squeezed your thigh tightly one last time then raised himself just barely enough to collapse onto his side on the floor next to you. You peered at him for a second, thinking he was passed out again, making sure he was ok. As you rose to your feet and started to climb downstairs, he stirred.

“Baaaby,” he grunted out needily. “Are you coming back, baabbbyy? Don’t just leave me up here, Y/N.” You froze and looked at him. He was in the same position, with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. And yes, you had heard him right. Because he had said it damn loud. Holy shit, that made you feel some sort of way. But Zoro was so drunk at this point there’s no way he could have any control over his words. The lights were on but no one was home. He mumbled your name one more time.

“Zoro, I’ll be right back, I’m grabbing you a blanket and a pillow,” you quipped back, and he murmured something nonsensical while you started the quick descent to the deck.

It took you less than a minute to get him a blanket, a pillow, a glass of water, and a bucket, in case he threw up. You grabbed yourself a pillow and blanket, too. You couldn’t conscience letting him sleep up there by himself when he was so drunk. It took you a couple trips, but you managed to bring everything up to the crow’s nest. Zoro looked like he was proper passed out, so you spread the blanket over him and knelt by his head. Again, you shook his shoulder softly. “Zoro, lift your head up. I brought you a pillow.” He complied. He looked so sweet and soft. You wished you could kiss his cheeks a hundred times and run your fingers through his hair so badly.

You dragged your own blanket and pillow to the other side of the nook, giving him as much space as you could. Moments after you curled up and shut your eyes, Zoro stirred again, letting off another string of vaguely suggestive entreaties. “Y/N,” he murmured, “why’re you… all the way over there… you don’t wanna… w-wwanna sleep with me???”

This poor dude isn’t going to remember a thing tomorrow, you thought. In this moment you pitied him. You were sure he just wanted you to come cuddle with him, which was really sweet and all, but he was way too drunk right now to be touched with a ten-foot pole. And you already knew that if he remembered any of this tomorrow, he’d be too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“Zoro, go to bed, sweetie, it’s getting late.” He did some more grumbling and nonsensical whining in response but soon he was out like a light, and you followed suit quickly.

---

Sure enough, Zoro woke up at sunrise feeling like absolute shit. He was hungover. Monstrously hungover. He couldn’t remember most of the tail end of last night and that made him uneasy, embarrassed at the thought that he could have said something out of pocket to you. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of drunkenly confessing his feelings. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck, he realized that you were sleeping peacefully across from him. You must have brought out the pillows and blankets, the bucket and glass of water (which he promptly chugged). His heart twisted a bit when he realized how thoughtful and caring you had been towards him. Fuck.

You were breathing quietly, sleeping on your side facing him. Your hair was messed up, all flopped to one side, your face was soft and sweet. He just watched you sleep for a few minutes, realizing that he was being creepy as fuck but thinking he would not have the opportunity to sit and stare at you like this for a long time. He was taken with you. Anything that you felt even remotely insecure about, Zoro loved about you. On top of that, he thought you were ethereally beautiful; he would muse over how soft your skin must be, how good your hair must smell, how he hoped he’d be able to see the color of your eyes closer, how beautifully your lips turned up into a smile whenever you would see him. He wasn’t merely infatuated with your beauty—it was more than that. He admired you as a person, he thought you were brilliant, smart, and kind.

Fuck. He berated himself. You fucking idiot, what did you say to her?

He remembered asking you when you lost your virginity—or, er… did he ask you how you lost it? It was hazy. He certainly remembered throwing back the glasses of sake like they were water.

He blushed crimson immediately upon remembering that he made some comment like “lucky guy” or “lucky dude” while referring to the first man you had sex with. Fuck, that was embarrassing. And he had a feeling that he took it one step further than that, maybe he said or did something else… he wasn’t sure at that point. He hoped he hadn’t done anything that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

Zoro rarely ever drank this much—he must have been feeling extra bothered and upset by Sanji’s comment about his virginity. Zoro knew that drinking was a horrible, horrible way of coping with his feelings. But sometimes he felt like he just wanted to self-sabotage or self-indulge in feeling like shit. And alcohol certainly made him feel like shit. But he had never drank this much when you were around.

Zoro wasn’t so sure how Drunk Zoro would handle your presence. He had a sinking feeling that he probably made himself look like an ass. Maybe he got way too loud, maybe he overstepped with his questions, maybe he came off as some huge, perverted creep trying to get a better picture about what it would be like to fuck you. He felt many, many pangs of regret and repulsion at himself. He was being hard on himself.

And while it definitely would have embarrassed him, and he would have felt more ashamed than he already did by knowing everything he said, he would have been surprised to know that the version of Drunk Zoro with only you around wanted nothing more than to be close with you—evidenced by the scooting closer, touching your thigh, staring deeply into your eyes, entreaties to sleep with (or was that by?) him. But he had no way of knowing what he did yet, because you were asleep, and he was prideful.

All this angsty reflection and regret was quickly interrupted by the hangover. He needed to do something about that. It was becoming a problem fast. He refused to make any sort of use out of that bucket while you were around. So, he swiped up the bucket, his empty glass, his pillow and blanket, and shuffled down the ladder steps.

---

When he was feeling less disgusting and had chugged a few more glasses of water, Zoro wondered what to do with himself. He would normally be up in the crow’s nest around this time of morning. And it didn’t escape him that you were going to be extremely hungover as well, especially because you had been matching his drinks for the most part (he could remember that) and you had way less of a tolerance than him.

He decided that he ought to bring up some water to you and hang out up there until you woke up. Maybe he’d be able to gauge how massively he fucked up by your expression or demeanor. Only one way to find out. Also, he’d take any opportunity and use any excuse to spend some peace and quiet with you. It was a treat that he rarely got.

He filled a big glass of water for you, and something struck him—what if he brought you up some fruit for breakfast? Would that be weird? He knew that you usually had fruit for breakfast, so… why not? He couldn’t think about it too much or else he’d clam up and get too shy. Fuck it, he told himself. Fruit it is. What’s an added benefit was that no one else was awake to tease him about bringing you breakfast or spending the night with you. So he took a couple of extra minutes to wash up and chop some fruit for you. He plated it as neatly as he could and grabbed a napkin as well. It was a simple but wholesome, caring gesture.

By the time Zoro was making his way back up to the crow’s nest, you had been awake for a minute or two. You were stretching as he climbed into the nook and your eyes met his with a sweet smile. “Good morning,” you chirped, feeling like shit from the hangover, but also tickled that you got to spend just a little bit more time with Zoro. You thought there was absolutely no way he remembered any of the advances or suggestive remarks from last night, and you wouldn’t hold any of it against him or treat him any differently for it. You were just happy to be hanging out with him, and the morning was beautiful. You felt no pressure or even desire to let him know everything that he said last night in the pits of drunken belligerence, and you didn’t plan on sharing unless he prompted.

“Hey,” he greeted you and placed the plate of fruit and glass of water next to you. “Here’s some breakfast. Figured it may get me even with you, since you took care of me last night. Sorry if I was an ass.”

Zoro was doing something as sweet as bringing you breakfast? You knew he had it in him. You always thought that there was some softness and sweetness to him, under those tough layers. Gosh, this was really nice of him.

“Thanks for bringing me fruit!” You responded. “You didn’t make an ass out of yourself, you were actually being really sweet,” you smiled again, and his heart skipped a beat. It felt like it twisted a little bit. Fuck, he had such a crush on you. He felt cringey and awkward when you were around sometimes, hyperaware of his every move, wondering how you felt about him. It was so easy for him to blush when you were around, too. He hoped every time that you couldn’t see it. He knew now that he must have been turning various shades of pink and red because he felt the hot blood rise to his face… and this time you did notice. His cheeks took on a pinkish flush, a shade that fitted him so well. God, he’s so cute, you thought to yourself. He was blushing so hard because you called him sweet.

“Oh, uh.. Sweet? What do you mean?” He acknowledged what you said out loud, putting out a sort of rhetorical question. How had he been sweet? Were you referring to the intrusive questions about your virginity, or did he do something else? What on earth could that mean?

You felt like teasing him a little bit with your answer—nothing too serious, since he seemed a little worried about it. “Yeah, you were sweet… you did call me baby a couple of times. It wasn’t too bad.”

Zoro turned crimson. He started to stutter out an apology— “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Zoro,” you cut him off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You were super drunk.” He attempted to stutter out another apology and you waved your hand. “Don’t worry, seriously, it wasn’t creepy or anything, it was cute.”

Neither of you thought Zoro could blush any harder, but he did. Cute? He was getting so flustered. He took a beat before hoarsely choking out a response. He expected that he had been a bit weird but… calling you baby? Get a grip, man! He scolded himself. But if that was all… it could have been a lot worse.

“Aghhh… Did I do anything else humiliating?” He asked, shaking his head and covering his eyes with his hand, visibly cringing. He didn’t even think to ask what context he called you baby in. It didn’t matter. He had called you baby, and that was that.

“I wouldn’t say it was humiliating but when you were falling asleep you kind of like… asked me to get in bed with you? It wasn’t creepy though, I think you were chilly.”

Zoro’s jaw dropped. Oh my fucking god. Get in bed with her?! What the fuck? He reprimanded himself internally. This was so much worse than he could have imagined. “Look, I’m so, so sorry I… I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry, I-”

“Zoro, don’t worry about it, seriously. It was endearing and I didn’t take it any sort of negative way.” You took note of how absolutely vivid red his cheeks were. His fists were clenched. Poor guy was obviously going through it.

Zoro was turning the words over in his mind again and again—sweet, cute, endearing. He had never received any of this sort of praise from you before and it made his stomach flip.

Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the air. “Y/N, MY DEAREST SWEET~~ WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COFFEE MY DARLING?” Sanji shouted up to you in the crow’s nest.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at Zoro, sort of mocking Sanji. “Let’s do this again soon, Zoro… silliness aside… I had a really nice time. You really were being sweet so don’t worry about it. I’m going to get some coffee and take a shower. Thanks for the fruit!” You gathered your fruit and glass and shouted back down at Sanji. “Coming!” You did one last pretty smile and wave and then descended below.

Zoro was still reeling from the revelations of his drunken antics. He could have jumped overboard right about now, had it not been for your repeated description of him as “sweet” and “cute.” Your words rang in his ears—“Let’s do this again soon, Zoro.”

So he had called you baby and tried to get you to sleep with him, but it had been sweet and cute? It didn’t really make sense to Zoro but something inside of him fluttered a little bit. You weren’t totally averse and disgusted towards him after last night, so… that was good, right?

Zoro was absolutely mind-fucked at the whole interaction. He was kicking himself in embarrassment, flustered, bright red, his heart was beating out of his chest, but he was also ecstatic because you said you wanted to spend more time with him again. He was completely ashamed but buzzing at the same time. He hadn’t felt like this in years and years, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he had ever been this worked up about a crush before.

Upon second thought, he realized that he did have a shadow of a memory of him calling you baby, along with a suggestion in his mind of the moment when he groaned your name and begged you to come to bed with him. He had wanted you to curl up next to him and sleep there, to be close with him, to feel your warmth, your skin, your heartbeat. He couldn’t believe that all of this started because Sanji’s asshole remark yesterday about his virginity. And there was that virginity and you, two things that were currently posing a problem for him. He could only let himself fantasize slightly about fucking you, but… he didn’t let himself get too carried away (yet).

Stay tuned for part two: Zoro is yet again sexually frustrated, and you decide to help him solve his problem (smut, smut, smut)!

Update: Here's part two!

And here's my masterlist...

♡＾▽＾♡ (◕ㅅ◕✿) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! - Z

[makethemhoesmad]

love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

[puckinghischier]

Crowded

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets nervous in the crowd, but luke is right there to help her out of it

notes: i’m once again throwing a luke fic out into the world. i saw this request in my inbox and immediately thought of the zach bryan concert the boys just went to. i would literally give anything to attend a concert with them. i just KNOW they’re great concert buddies. sorry it’s kinda short, i just didn’t know how to drag it out any longer. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - Character A can tell Character B is getting nervous in a big crowd, so A slips their hand into theirs to help them calm down.

[2.8k]

You had been looking forward to tonight for months. From the second Luke surprised you with the tickets for your birthday, you immediately started planning an outfit, making a playlist, and anticipating the trip.

When he told you his brothers and a few friends were tagging along, it only made you more excited, enjoying every moment you got to spend with your boyfriend’s brothers and their hockey friends.

After the concert, everyone was driving over to stay at the lake house for a few weeks, enjoying as much of the summer together as they can before pre-season training starts. You couldn’t wait to have a few weeks of fun on the water, but also wanted tonight to last as long as it could.

Your excitement grew even more when you found the perfect outfit for the occasion, even buying a matching light-up cowboy hat off of Etsy. You were especially excited for the chance to wear your boots again, not having many excuses to wear them in Jersey.

Luke had his hand planted firmly on the small of your back, making sure not to lose you as you weave through the crowd. You had bought Luke a new shirt for tonight, the orange t-shirt matching the burnt orange color of your dress.

He leads you over to the crowded merchandise stand, telling you to pick whatever you wanted. You struggled, loving every item tacked onto the display board. When you told him you couldn’t decided between a t-shirt and a hoodie, he bought you both before you could even open your mouth to protest, buying himself a hat and t-shirt as well.

“Luke, you just spent over $300 without even batting an eye,” you barked at him, crossing your arms to try and look menacing.

You know Luke could’ve afforded to buy you the entire stand and still not make a dent in his bank account, but you don’t like when he spends large amounts on you for no reason.

“Yeah, so?” he shrugs, taking your elbow and leading you away from the cloth covered table, slinging the clear bag of merchandise over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and huff at him, unfolding your arms and taking his hand, letting him lead you through the sea of bodies.

“’So?’”, you mimicked his response. “You didn’t have to buy half of the merch stand just because it took me more than three seconds to choose which shirt I wanted.”

He glances back at you over his shoulder. “The fact that you didn’t have your mind made up the second you saw the options means you clearly wanted both, so I bought you both.”

You reach over and pinch his side, mildly annoyed with how well he understands the way your brain works.

“Quit pinching me you little gremlin,” Luke hisses out, the nickname being one he uses when you’re being stubborn or annoying.

“Quit spending all of your money on me, you giraffe-man,” you fire back.

You can see his shoulder’s shake, your impromptu nickname for him amusing him.

He doesn’t respond right away, the two of you having made it to the entrance to your seats, walking up to the worker standing under the numbered sign.

The usher instructs you to show your tickets to one of the workers at the bottom of the set of stairs.

When you walk into the arena, you notice how large the space feels, the open floor and mostly empty seats creating the illusion of size.

Luke has to nudge you a bit, reminding you to keep walking, too in awe of the fact you’re actually here.

“Not so unhappy with me spending my money on you now, huh?” he leans down to whisper into your ear, making sure you can hear him over the roaring chatter.

You hit him lightly in the chest, a smirk on his face as the two of you walk down, showing your tickets to the usher once you reach the bottom of the stairs, a bright colored wristband with bold letters spelling out VIP FLOOR printed on each one.

You make your way over to a small, sectioned off area near the main stage, seeing the rest of your group already waiting for the two of you.

Jack is the first one to notice you approaching, his eyes lighting up and arms being slung into the air.

“It’s about time! We were starting to worry the two of you got lost!” he calls out, causing the rest of the group to turn their heads and call out greetings.

You smile, having missed those in the group that didn’t live in New Jersey.

Walking over to Quinn first, you give him a long hug, the last time you saw him being when he played his brothers in Jersey months ago. The frequent facetime calls the two of you share not being enough to scratch your Quinn itch.

“Quinnifer! I missed you!” you squeal as you squeeze him as tight as you can.

You can feel his chuckle as he squeezes you back. “I missed you too, Munchkin” he leans back, ruffling your hair.

Although you see Jack nearly every day back home in Jersey, Quinn is the brother you’re closest to. You and Jack are literally two peas in a pod, but there’s something about Quinn that made you feel comfortable with him from the moment Luke introduced the two of you.

He’s like the big brother you never had, always calling him when you need advice or need to complain to someone about Luke.

Anytime you have a particularly nasty argument with Luke, Quinn is the one you call. He always allows you say whatever you need to get out of your system before breaking the problem down and agreeing that his brother is an idiot, but that he also loves you with everything he has in him.

At first you tried to go to Jack with problems surrounding your relationship with Luke, but he clearly didn’t know how to help you. He either told Luke about your conversations, causing the argument to grow worse because Luke claimed Jack had no business knowing about what’s happening in your relationship, or he would shrug his shoulders and say “just don’t yell at him when I’m trying to sleep. I need my beauty rest.”

You swat Quinn’s hand away, trying to smooth down your now tousled hair.

“I see you dressed the goon, tonight,” he points out Luke’s orange shirt.

You turn your head to see him talking with Cole.

“Believe it or not, it was his idea,” you think back to after you bought your dress, trying it on for Luke once you came home from shopping with your girls. He loved the way you looked in it, his eyes widening the second you emerged from your walk-in closet.

He swallowed thickly, his gravelly voice choking out a “Did they happen to have a matching shirt? Because if you’re wearing that, I’m going to need something to match so everyone knows you’re there with me, not up for grabs.”

You blush at the memory, looking back over to Quinn.

“I always knew he was whipped, but damn you’ve got him down bad, huh?” he shakes his head, smiling in amusement.

“Wrapped around my little finger,” you hold up your pinky, wiggling it at Quinn with a giggle.

You feel a pair of arms snake their way around your waist, a heavy object resting itself on top of your head.

“What’s wrapped around your little finger?” Luke asks, his chin bumping against your scalp as he talks.

“You, duh,” you reply, moving your head forward and craning your neck to look up at him.

He looks between you and his older brother before uttering out a “Oh one hundred percent. Couldn’t unravel myself if I even wanted to,” he lets go of you, stepping up to stand beside you.

Quinn just laughs, bringing Luke in for a hug.

After you make your way around to greet everyone, the lights are dimming and the atmosphere inside of the arena changes.

You love the hum of excitement in the air, finding Luke and standing in front of him. You hear the first notes of Overtime as Zach Bryan comes onto the stage, screaming as loud as you possibly can.

Luke has a content, amused smile on his face as you scream out the lyrics, jumping and dancing around as the beat allows.

As the concert goes on, you make the switch from dancing with Luke to dancing with Jack, attempt to get on Quinn’s shoulders to get Zach’s attention, and slinging your arm over Cole’s shoulder to sway back and forth with him during one of the slower songs.

When it comes time for Zach to sing Revival, your favorite song of his, you beg Luke to leave your secluded area to get closer to the stage, wanting to experience being in the crowd for this one particular song.

He looks at you apprehensively, eyeing the large sea of people on top of one another, barely any room between the bodies pressed together. He worries about losing you in the crowd, your small frame allowing you to get swept away easily.

You tug on his arm like a little kid, repeating “please, please, please,” over and over again, assuring him you’ll be fine.

Luke eventually gives in, letting his brothers know where you two are going, claiming you’ll meet back up with them after the concert.

Grabbing your hand, Luke leads you off of the small platform and into the crowd, pushing his way as far up to the front as his large body will allow him.

You stop just a row or two of people away from the stage where Zach had just climbed onto, adjusting his guitar and microphone before starting the song.

As the song rang out around you, you sang along to every word, joining the rowdy crowd as the chorus starts.

You start to jump around in the small space you have, enjoying every second, until Zach walks his way over to the small portion of stage in front of where you stand.

As soon as his figure stands over the crowd around you, bodies start pushing against one another, everyone trying to get as close to him as they can. You feel yourself being shifted towards the metal barricade, not being able to fight against the rush of people.

You start panicking, whipping your head from side to side to find Luke. All you can see around you are strangers, not being able to move your body to look behind you. You have absolutely no control over your own body anymore, being stuck in-between a girl slightly taller than you and a man that has at least a hundred pounds on you.

Squeaking out a “excuse me,” and “can you let me out please?” you try to make your exit from the suffocating situation. Your eyes turn frantic when you realize that no one can hear you or cares to hear you. Your breath picks up, heart pounding in your chest.

You can feel the tears pricking in your eyes, not being able to regulate your breathing anymore, gasping hot air into your lungs as fast as you can.

You’re about to let out a scream, begging someone to pay attention to you and let you out of the mess you’re in, when you feel a familiar hand slip its way into yours.

Whipping your head around, you catch a glimpse of curly hair behind you, not realizing that the body pressed against your back has been Luke this entire time. You figured you had lost him when you were surged forward, unable to see him anywhere around you.

Your breath starts to slow slightly, knowing you’re not alone in this crowd easing some of your nerves. The feeling of your heart pounding is still present, not wanting to be in this situation one second longer.

Luke attempts to tug your body back towards him, but the impenetrable wall of people around you prevents him from doing so.

You manage to wiggle your way in a circle somehow, now facing Luke.

He takes one look at your frightened face and knows he has to get you out of here, now.

Pulling you towards him, he cages you in with is arms, your cheek pressed to his chest. He starts walking backwards, his hockey roots coming in handy as he all but body checks people out of his way. The two of you finally make it to the back of the large crowd, Luke not letting go of you until you were back over in your original section.

Quinn was watching the whole thing from the small platform he was stood on, about to walk over and fish you out himself before he noticed Luke’s head slowly moving backwards, away from the stage.

He can see you’re still shaken, walking over to meet the two of you at the top of the ramp.

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Quinn asks, concerned about how frightened even Luke’s face looks right now.

“No, she’s fine. Just shaken up, I think. She got trapped between a random girl and some dude at least triple her size,” he tells Quinn, running his hand down your hair in soothing motions. Your hands were still clutching his t-shirt, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

Quinn stares at your trembling figure the whole time, knowing you don’t want to leave Luke’s embrace but wishing he could do something to help you.

“Let’s get her out of here and to the car, yeah?” Quinn suggests, picking up yours and Luke’s bag of merchandise off of the floor of the platform.

Luke just nods, leading you back down the ramp.

Quinn steps over and let’s everyone know to just meet them in the parking garage before following yours and Luke’s intertwined bodies towards the nearest exist.

Luke manages to get you up the stairs and out into the outer ring of the arena without letting you go. Both pairs of your feet moving in tandem, not once risking tripping over one another.

He leads you out of the doors and into the cool night air.

You finally allow yourself to leave his embrace, instantly feeling better in the openness of the outdoors. Never letting go of his hand, you continue to let him lead you to the large garage.

Luke’s BMW sits right where he parked it, the loud beep echoing in the dark garage as he unlocks it.

He opens the passenger door, lifting you slightly to sit you down on the leather seat. His hands come up to your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the stray hairs that were sticking to the damp skin under your eyes.

“All good now?” he asks you, the frantic look of your eyes now gone.

You nod, looking into his concerned eyes. “M’alright. Just got scared. Too many people,” you mumble out, leaning into Luke’s palm slightly. “Sorry I made us go out there. Just wanted to have fun.”

Luke leans his forehead against yours, shaking it back and forth slightly. “No, it’s not your fault. Just bad timing is all,” he assures you, knowing how upset you’re going to be when you realized you missed most of the last song.

He pulls his head back, standing back to his full height outside of the SUV.

You notice Quinn standing a few feet away, letting you and Luke have your space.

Frowning, you call out to the eldest Hughes. “You didn’t have to leave early too, Quinny.”

Quinn looks over when he hears you address him, walking closer to the vehicle.

“Ehh, show was almost over anyways,” he waves you off. “Had to make sure my favorite little munchkin was okay,” he shrugs, telling you its no big deal.

You smile at him, thankful you not only have your boyfriend to look out for you, but Quinn as well.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Both of you,” you look between the two brothers, only ever seeing how alike they look when they’re standing in front of you.

They both tell you it’s not necessary, the main priority being that you’re safe and sound outside of the arena.

“Fine, I guess that means neither of you want to stop for post-concert pancakes on the way to the lake, then?” you tease, watching both of their heads snap up. All three brothers’ secret love of sweets is something you use to your advantage, only ever having to mention how good ice creams sounds before Luke and Jack are ushering you out of the door and driving you to the nearest ice-cream shop.

“Well, I guess if you really just feel the need to do something nice for us…” Quinn trails off, making a smile break out on your face, unable to hide the laugh at the sudden switch up.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you continue to laugh at the pair, Luke leaning in to buckle your seatbelt for you as Quinn climbs in the backseat, sending a quick text to the rest of your group, telling them if they want to join in on the pancake outing, they need to be making their way out of the arena, and fast.

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] Kinktober Day 23: "Bullying"

Summary: You've witnessed it once. Leona's intelligence was shocking but...if you were gonna get him to tutor you, Leona was definitely going to make you work for it.

Warning(s): Bully!Leona, Mean!Leona, Leona teases the reader a lot in this one and is generally just mean ngl.

Side Note(s): I know that Leona is generally a sweet dude/extremely sarcastic on a good day but the idea of him being rude just gets me going dude.

You hated adored the way Leona smirked that infuriating smirk as you humped his thigh inside his bedroom, his hand propped up on the side of his face as he watched your little display with a keen eye. Like a king watching his entertainment for the night, silently judging whether or not they were good at what they did.

You quietly gasped when Leona's hand went to rest on the side of your thigh. "C'mon...it's like you don't want help on your tests. Speed up." He said with that alluringly deep purr in his voice, your blush only increasing at his words. You wanted to wipe that sly smirk right off his handsome face and say something anything that would have an ounce of a chance of shaking his pride and making him lose the control he had over you right now. But you couldn't, you needed help on your tests and after exhausting your other options, this was the last one you could turn to!

Your were willing to take your chances, and the second he offered you doing...this for him in exchange for him helping you study. You took it all too willingly.

The prince clicked his tongue in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes. "With this pace, I'll fall asleep." He grumbled before he suddenly bucked his leg upwards, the shocking stimulation to clit nearly making you fall forward onto the beastman with a sharp moan. You shot a half-hearted glare at him, shakily raising yourself back up as you struggled more and more to keep your pace. "Y-You're...a-always asleep...lazy lion." You mouthed off.

His brow rose as his ears perked to your words.

You couldn't help yourself when you unconsciously clenched at the way a certain...glint in his eye was becoming more and more obvious, like a cat whose pupils began to dilate when it spotted something it wanted to hunt or torture a little for fun. And as Leona's hand lazily dragged up to rest on your waist, you were more than certain that your words may have erupted his usually dormant hunting instinct. "Gettin' mouthy aren't you?" He grumbled before he bucked his thigh once more.

He smirked at how you struggled to keep yourself upward, the scent of your arousal growing more potent by the minute, especially with how he began to draw circles in your thigh. Originally, Leona had simply thought of you as another herbivore amongst the crowd, not interesting nor worth his time to play around with. But...when you came to him practically begging on your knees for him to tutor you, well, how was he supposed to resist messing around with you a little? "You willingly walked into the mouth of a lion, the least you could do is be entertaining when asking me to waste my time tutoring you." He sighed.

His smirk grew when he spotted the dark patch beginning to form on his pants. "Then again...I don't think you want to do much studyin' now, do ya?"

Slowly, his mind disappeared under your skirt before he trailed your skin with a featherlight touch, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he eventually reached your clothed pussy, teasing you with the tip of his claw for a moment before eventually flipping up your skirt to your hidden prize, his tongue running over his lips at the delicious sight. When one of your hands left his shoulder to try and hide yourself, he grabbed your wrist with a growl. "With such a boring performance so far...you should be thanking me that a prince is aiding you." He tsked.

"Now, let me see what you're hidin'..." He then hooked a finger around the band of your panties before slowly tugging them down to see your pussy. Yet as he continued to tease your skin, his cock straining harder against his pants with how you twitched at his touch, and how your slick continued to pool at the center of your panties.

He wanted to fuck you, badly.

And you did as well, your breath labored as if you had been running a marathon with how much you were aching for Leona to do something, anything other than tease you to hell and back. So, you slowly ceased your movements to lean back a little, using your index and middle finger to part your lower lips with a nervous gulp. "P-Please..." You whispered. "Touch me—"

He smirked at your plea. "Hm..." He hummed as he finger moved closer and closer to where you ached for him most. An excited glint shined in your eyes, your mind racing with the eager thought of Leona touching you until...he harshly pinched your thigh. "Tch, as if." He nearly growled out before he bucked his thighs in a silent order for you to resume moving. "Y' think that this is about you?" He bucked his thigh again, the feeling of the flexed muscle bumping against your clit making you gasp and squirm like a wanton thing in heat as you struggled to regain your balance without the influx of pleasure constantly throwing you off.

"This is about you convincing me to help you study herbivore, and right now? You're not doing a good job." He continued to harshly talk down on you before his finger swiftly found your clit, immediately beginning to rub your cunt fiercely whilst he mockingly laughed at the way your hands flew to his shoulders for stabilization.

He then leaned into your ear. "I'll tell what you are doing good at though," He grumbled. "Being a slut." You squinted your eyes closed as your thighs clenched around the beastman's thigh, broken moans and needy whines falling from his lips as you quickly felt your orgasm beginning to approach. "...N-Not true—fuckkk..." You tried to retort. Leona laughed at how you interrupted yourself with your own words.

Clearly, it had to be true.

He knew that studying much less getting any sort of help with your work was the very last thing on your mind. No, you were only focused on cumming, something that he shouldn't have even allowed with how you were making him do all the work! But...seeing as you were being so entertaining to him at this moment...

He decided to be lenient.

"C-Cumming..." You moaned, Leona's fingers speeding up in their ministrations before you threw your head back suddenly to release a loud wail. The force of your orgasm threatened to knock you into unconsciousness as your hips pressed further down onto Leona's thigh, you barely managed a few more weak bucks before you had started to whine in overstimulation. Mercifully, Leona took his hand away from your clit. He raised his fingers to his face, playing with your slick by stretching his index and middle finger a little before his eyes dragged over to your hazy ones.

"Well?" He brought his fingers closer to your lips. Without another word from the prince, you shyly took his fingers into your mouth. "So obedient," He hummed in amusement. "I suppose I've been convinced to help you with your little studies..." He chuckled when your eyes gained a look of hope within them.

"R-Really?" You gasped. "T-Then...I need help on—"

"I'll be the one to tell you what you need help on." He grumbled. "I think your first lesson should be..." He slipped his fingers from your lips before they were already at work of teasing your cunt. "...how to use this cute pussy to please my cock."

[warping-realities]

All For The Family - Part I

That was the only part of his job that Brian dislike, even though it was necessary. To justify what he had to do, he told himself those folks deserved it, that they should’ve been more careful with their own bills and the loans they took out, and paid their mortgage right. It wasn’t his fault. He was just there to deliver the truth they were probably expecting anyway. He tried to adopt a “don’t shoot the messenger” attitude while also showing he felt for their situation, even though he still had to do his job. That rarely worked in the two years he’d been doing that gig, and this time was no different. The blonde 24 years old man, rockin' a sharp suit that fit him like a glove on his skinny frame paired with his glasses, he was supposed to look classy and confident. Which clearly didn’t have the intended effect on the crowd he was facing. Standing in front of him with his arms crossed and a look on his face like he just sucked on a lemon was the biggest man Brian had ever seen in his life.

“You gotta understand, Mr. Abernathy, that the promissory note’s overdue again. If you don’t cough up the cash, the bank won’t have any choice but to foreclose and take your land to auction.”

“I get it, kid, but it seems like you’re the one refusing to understand. Tomorrow, I’m getting another hand to help with the harvest, and we’ll pay up all the back dues and even get ahead on a few!”

“Mr. Abernathy… Roy, can I call you Roy?” Brian asked with a smile he hoped was friendly and not showing the frustration he felt at that moment.

“My friends call me Roy, kid; you ain’t my friend.”

Brian let out a sigh at that response and decided to drop the pleasantries, taking a more hard-nosed approach.

“Well, Mr. Abernathy, I hate to break it to you, but if that promise of yours doesn’t pan out, I’m afraid that come the first of next month, you and your family are gonna have to vacate this property.”

“Save your worries for yourself, kid, while you hightail it off my land, ‘cause for now, I’m the one who decides who comes and goes around here.”

“If you weren’t planning on negotiating at all, why’d you make me drive all the way out here?”

“‘Cause there are some things that need to be said and done face-to-face, son.”

“Well, next time, just call me if you got something important to say!”

With a huff, Brian turned his back on the older, muscular man and headed toward the sports car parked behind the big barn that flanked the simple but well-kept farmhouse.

As he watched the kid walk away, unaware of the wave of golden sparks emanating from him, Roy murmured to himself, “Next time we talk, you’ll take whatever I say as important, boy!” He said, flashing a wide grin before turning to a figure that was approaching. “Is it done?” he asked, his smile widening at the answer.

That spat with the Abernathy family patriarch left Brian pissed off. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that it might be through his work that those folks would lose everything. At the same time, he knew that if it were his older brother knocking on that door, dressed in his cop uniform, the treatment would’ve been a whole lot different. Of course, he could never pull off Lucas's job. Lost in those gloomy thoughts, he took a while to realize that the gas tank he filled up that very morning was nearly empty, and it was only when a beeping alert rang out that he noticed.

“Damn, how is this possible?” he exclaimed to the empty car as he pulled over to the side of the road and weighed his options. Looking at his cell, he found he was out of signal. The nearest town was miles away. The only option left...

“Damn!” he yelled again, getting out of the car and shrugging off his suit jacket, heading toward the Abernathy’s place, wondering what kind of reception he was gonna get. No matter how much empathy he might have started to feel for those folks, it surely wouldn’t be mutual. Halfway to the farm, the already bad situation took a turn for the worse when rain started pouring down, soaking Brian's expensive clothes.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he was being punished by some higher power for doing that job, and he was sure of it when he ran smack into the person he needed but didn’t want to see: Roy Abernathy in all his bulk! He was standing in front of an old Ford pickup, arms crossed again, but this time with a grin that Brian would’ve usually taken for some petty celebration, but at that moment it seemed to him to have more sincerity than he was used to seeing from “clients.” The man was with someone who could only be his son, given the huge resemblance between the two. Those behemoths made for a frightening sight for Brian, leaving him speechless. However, he didn’t even get a chance to speak, as Roy started the conversation for him.

“Looks like you need a little help, son. Where’s your fancy car?”

“I… the gas…”

“Oh, I get it; it’s real reckless to be out here with an empty tank.” The man said, still grinning, and Brian initially felt like he was just saying that to mess with him. But quickly, a small voice in the back of his mind disagreed; the Abernathys weren’t stingy like that. That new, dissenting voice made him hold his tongue and respond more calmly than expected.

“I don’t know what happened; I left town with a full tank. And… I… um… I’ll need some help, yeah.”

“Sorry, son, what was that?”

“I said I need help, if you could… please?!” He replied louder, though he was pretty sure the man heard him.

“Of course I can help, son. Out here, we all pitch in, no matter who you are.” Another jab, and once again something made Brian hold back; he deserved that treatment, the little voice said, and he would take it like a man, like the man he was. Roy smiled again, apparently noticing that the young man was holding back from snapping back.

“Thanks, sir. Now, if you could just follow me to the car and get me some gas…”

“No, son, you’re soaked through. Let RJ and me take care of that; you go to my house and talk to my wife; she’ll get you some dry clothes and a hot meal.”

“I’d rather go to my car…”

“No arguments, kid; do what I said!” Roy replied, his face turning serious.

“I… I… fine!” Brian said, biting back his anger and trudging down the road.

“That one’s a bit rough around the edges.” RJ commented to his dad as he watched Brian walk away.

“Oh, but he’s starting to behave, and there’s nothing wrong with him being a little rough, son, as long as he uses that attitude in the right way…”

“Dad, are you sure? This mumbo jumbo sounds crazy… and the risk we took, messing with that guy’s car. What if he noticed?”

“What are the odds a guy like that knows how to handle a car, Junior? At least for now.”

“Dad, what you’re talking about doing… it’s impossible…”

“Son, you’re gonna have to trust me on this; believe me, it’s already started. Tomorrow at this time, we’ll have the help we need and one heartless drone less in the world.”

“But how? How can you be sure? Have you done this before?” The young man asked.

“No, Junior, I haven’t.” Roy replied, looking quite uncomfortable and avoiding eye contact with his son. “But since you apparently doubt your old man’s word, maybe you should trust your own eyes; take a quick look now, and you’ll see something unique.”

“What the hell? What is that, Dad?” The boy asked, seeing the golden sparks surrounding the man who walked, seemingly unaware of anything strange.

“That, my boy, is the solution to our problems; now hurry up.”

As father and son climbed into the old pickup, an oblivious Brian, unaware of their plans for him, arrived at the farmhouse door. The moment he raised a hand to knock, the door swung open suddenly, and he found himself facing a beautiful woman with bronzed skin and black hair streaked with gray, whose age he couldn’t quite pin down, though he knew she was Abernathy’s wife. The woman looked at him with a warm face that, for some unknown reason, sent a shiver down his spine.

“Well, well, what do we have here? A lost kitten? How can I help you, sugar?”

“Um… I’m sorry, ma’am. I… Mr. Abernathy told me to come here and… hum… change clothes while he looks at my car.”

“You’re soaked, poor thing! Come on in, come on in. I’ll ask Debra to get you some of RJ’s clothes. Be a good boy and wait right here; I don’t want my carpet all wet!” The woman said in a whirlwind, pulling him inside the house and leaving him standing at the threshold. Brian, for his part, had to control himself not to run back out into the rain, as something urged him to get out of that place as fast as possible. Holding himself back, he waited until the woman returned with a young girl about his age, just as pretty as the mother, in a floral dress.

“Debra will take you to RJ’s room; you can dry off and wear some of his clothes until the boys bring your car back. Meanwhile, I’ll whip up some dinner; a big boy like you must eat as much as my husband and son!”

“I… actually…” Brian started, but he gave up announcing his intention to leave as fast as possible upon receiving a look from Mrs. Abernathy that simultaneously showed expectation and reprimand. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Great, now let’s go, let’s go! You’re soaking my carpet!”

Brian followed Debra up to one of the rooms on the second floor of the house. Upon entering, he was surprised to find it was a double room. Did the Abernathy kids, brother and sister, share the same room?

“I’ve set aside some of RJ’s clothes for you; they might be a bit big, but at least they’re dry.” The girl said, smiling between the two beds in the room. Brian couldn’t help but ask.

“You sleep here with your brother?”

“God, no, eww! That bed’s for my other brother!”

“I didn’t know that… wait… there’s no record of the Abernathys having another kid in the paperwork given to the bank!”

“Shhh… relax; there’s no need to stress about that, it’s not important. You city folks with your data, your records, your… contracts. Life is so much more than that, you know? So why don’t you chill for a bit, dry off, and head down? Dad’s gonna want to talk to you.” The girl replied and left the room, leaving a very confused Brian behind. He was still pondering the family’s strange behavior as he undressed and wondered what the hell Roy Abernathy would want to talk to him about. He wasn’t fooling himself thinking it could be something good for his job, not after the confrontation they had just had.

After drying off and getting ready to put on RJ's much larger clothes, the little intrusive voice invaded his mind again. Whatever Roy had to say was important, and he should listen and obey, just like he always had. Before his mind could fight back against that, a beam of golden sparks emanated from his body, and both the intrusive voice and the need to resist it vanished from Brian's mind. In fact, all thoughts disappeared. He couldn't tell how long he stood there, just breathing, with his mind blank of thoughts or worries.

He only returned to reality when someone caught his attention.

“What are you doing just standing there, brother?” A deep voice asked, startling him awake. Turning quickly, Brian found himself face to face with Abernathy’s son, RJ. He’d only seen him briefly on the road, but now he was just a few inches away. RJ lacked the bulk of his father, but that didn’t mean he was small. On the contrary, he was a strong guy, a year or two older than Brian, with a muscular, hairy chest on display. Looking at that figure, Brian felt a strange sensation wash over him, a kind of bond between him and this stranger; it wasn’t sexual, it was something… brotherly, maybe? He knew he’d felt that before, but couldn’t remember when or with whom. As absurd as it was, it was like this guy in front of him was someone very important.

“Earth to you, bro! Get some clothes on and let’s eat; Dad’s waiting.”

“I… uh… yeah.” Brian replied, hurrying to put on the clothes that were lying next to him.

“You coming?” He asked, wanting to stretch the time spent with the other man, even though he didn’t know why.

“Nah, I already ate; I’m gonna crash here. We’ll talk later and figure out how to fix your car!”

“Car?”

“Dude, you really are in another dimension, eat your food, talk to dad, I’ll be waiting!”

Brian headed downstairs and made his way to the kitchen, not even questioning how he knew which way to go, while trying to pin down that feeling of connection to someone he’d just met. As he reached the kitchen door, he found Roy Abernathy sitting alone at a large dining table piled high with food, looking serious and pensive. Brian instinctively stopped at the door, watching the older man. Strangely, all the animosity he’d felt toward the man had vanished, and revisiting his feelings, even the fear he refused to admit existed was different now; it wasn’t fear of violence, but a hefty dose of respect, with a healthy hint of dread. He didn’t even have time to try to figure out what had changed, as Abernathy spotted him and broke into a smile.

“Come on in and grab a bite, son, don’t just stand there like a deer in headlights!” The man said, and while part of Brian’s mind told him he should be anger by that comment, a now dominant part made him smile shyly and head over to the table.

“Excuse me, sir!” He said politely and respectfully.

“Sure thing, son, make yourself at home; things here are simple but done right.”

“Thanks, sir.” Brian replied, serving himself a bit of everything on the table, ending up with a plate piled high, which seemed to please his host.

“That’s a plate fit for a real man!”

“Sorry, Mr. Abernathy; it all looks so good and…”

“No need to apologize, son; that’s a compliment you’re giving my wife’s cooking. And you can call me Roy. That’s what my friends call me.”

Hearing that sparked something in Brian’s mind, some kind of half-forgotten memory, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall it… if he can’t remember it must not be important, right? So, he opted to eat all that delicious food, smiling, again oblivious to the shower of golden sparks surrounding him. But Roy Abernathy couldn’t help but notice, making his smile grow even wider.

Brian devoured the food like he hadn’t eaten in days, time slipping by without him realizing it. He only stopped eating when his belly stretched the elastic of RJ’s shorts, which was no small feat since the man was much stronger than him. Satisfied, he let out a loud burp.

“Burrrpp… sorry, Mr. Abernathy.”

“Once again, that’s a compliment to my wife’s fine cooking, kid; and I already told you, my friends call me Roy.”

“Thanks, Roy… you… you all didn’t have to do this for me, not after… after…”

“After what, son?” Roy asked, with an apparently innocent look.

“After… after…” after what? What did I do to Abernathy? I can’t remember… something about work… my job. “… my job.” Brian mumbled.

“Kid, just ‘cause you’re gonna work for me doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop treating you like a guest.” Roy replied with a smile, sending a shock through Brian’s mind. That information couldn’t be true… or could it? He tried to remember his job, but nothing came to mind; he had gone to college and studied… what? He couldn’t recall. But he knew his job had given him the means to buy the clothes he liked and the car… yeah, his car! There was something about his car.

“And my car…?”

“Oh, right, tomorrow you and RJ can figure out how to fix it. But I gotta tell you, son, there’s only so much an old car can take!”

“Old…? no, no!”

“Oh, I know young folks prefer the term classic, but still… anyway… if I were you, I’d save up for a good reliable pickup, kid! Now head on up; I’m sure you and RJ will want to talk before bed, but tomorrow the day starts bright and early around here.”

“I… I… Roy… there’s something… something…” Brian started as he stood up and headed for the door, unable to finish. He wanted to say there was something weird, something wrong, but he couldn’t.

“Something you wanna tell me, son?”

“Yeah… Mr. Abernathy… Roy…” He struggled to find the right words to express how he felt. “… thanks again!” That was what he finally said, with a fresh wave of golden sparks surrounding him, and any doubt about what he was doing there vanished.

“Thank me with hard work, son; now go to your room.”

Feeling a bit dazed, Brian climbed the stairs and reached the room he shared with RJ. The other man was lying down, apparently asleep, which left Brian feeling a bit down.

He couldn't say why, but he felt the urge to talk to RJ; somehow, he felt like the other man was a special friend he hadn't spoken to in a long time, though that didn't make any sense. He hardly knew the guy; they had barely exchanged words since they met that day... or was it the day his father hired Brian? And when was that? Brian sat on the bed, trying to sort out his thoughts and calm the strange feeling that had taken over him since his car broke down on the road. And why was he on the road if he had gone to the Abernathys to work? He couldn't get very far with those thoughts, as apparently, his movements had woken RJ, who quickly sat up in bed.

“Hey, brother, why didn’t you let me know you were in the room?”

“I didn’t want to wake you; didn’t wanna bother you…”

“Man, it ain’t no bother! We gotta talk about your car, figure out what we’re gonna do!”

“Your dad thinks I should sell it and save up for a pickup!”

“Bro, no way! Dad’s a great guy, but for him, if something ain’t useful for work, it ain’t worth a damn. He’s forgotten what it’s like being a guy our age. And selling a 1969 Ford Mustang? The king of American muscle cars? Only if you’re crazy! I figured with a car like that, you’d know how to appreciate a classic!”

“I… uh… I just didn’t wanna offend your dad, with him being my boss and all…”

“Dude, just be straight with him, and he’ll get it… and forget about the boss stuff… you’re sleeping in his son’s room; you can bet he sees you as more than just an employee.”

“Thanks…” Brian replied awkwardly.

“Come on, enough of that; you’re gonna work with me, hell, you’re sharing a room with me, brother! No need for all that formal junk.” RJ said, grinning before giving Brian a scrutinizing look and asking, “Bro, do you lift?”

“Uh, no… I’ve never been much for working out…”

“So how you ended up working on a farm??”

“Uh… I… went to college… I think, and… I don’t remember…”

“Chill out, brother, I’m just teasing you!But seriously, if you wanna work around here, you gotta pack on some serious muscle.” RJ said, casually scratching his powerful pecs and biceps, making Brian, who had never cared about that kind of thing, feel mesmerized.

“You think… you think I can get as big as you or your dad?” Why was he asking that???

“Ha, dude, nobody’s as big as my dad, and getting to my size is a good journey, but the beauty of the thing is just that, brother; you never settle for the size you are, and I bet with the right training and all the farm work, soon you won’t even recognize yourself.” Hearing that reply filled Brian with a level of contentment he never thought possible.

But before he could try to understand why, RJ went back to talking about cars, and soon the two were discussing their favorite classic models and what they’d do with Brian’s old Mustang. Their conversation flowed like they’d known each other for years and was only interrupted when a very serious Roy Abernathy opened the bedroom door and told the two to hit the hay already, like a couple of mischievous kids being schooled by their dad. Somehow, that thought was comforting to Brian, who quickly fell asleep after Roy turned off the lights and left the room.

He was in a strange place; it looked like a gym. There was a young, skinny but strong guy, as blonde as he was, staring at him. After a few seconds, he realized he was standing in front of a mirror and smiled.

As he dreamed of that, Brian smiled in his sleep on the bed in Roy Junior’s room, his shirt pulled off during the night without him realizing, and golden sparks surrounding him as he moved around happily, unaware that someone was watching him.

“Sleep tight, little brother, ‘cause tomorrow’s when things are really gonna get interesting!”

[beomboomboom]

Cheater

genre: fluff, established relationship, crack

pairing: Jeonghan x reader

summary: Jeonghan knows his every kiss has the ability to steal your breath away and make you forget absolutely everything but him. And of course he'll use this to his full advantage, how could he not?

warnings: a little bit of swearing, kissing?

note: writer's block is a struggle 😭😭 idk why it took me like a literal month to write this. If you have any recs or asks feel free to send them to me! I'm in desperate need of some inspiration 😭. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fic!!

Deciding to play a game of Monopoly with your boyfriend was definitely a mistake.

For one, you were losing at an embarrassingly fast pace. Your character having landed on Jeonghan's properties way too many times to count, forcing you to fork over money you didn't even have in the first place. The money in the bank was also suspiciously low, the stacks of bills smaller than you initially remembered.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan was doing amazing, much to your distaste. He didn't have much money, but at the same time he somehow conjured up some whenever he needed it. Everything was going well for him—suspiciously well.

"Your turn," Jeonghan announces with a confident smirk as he passes the dice over to you.

"I got this," you mutter to yourself while praying to whatever god is out there that luck be your on side for once. Jeonghan watches with a mischievous but fond look on his face; it's adorable the way you're so invested in a game that was doomed for you from the start.

You toss the dice out onto the table, groaning immediately when you see the result.

You landed on Jeonghan's property.

Again.

Meaning you're the one forking over money to Jeonghan, the one person who needs the money the least, as you sank closer and closer to straight-up bankruptcy. Jeonghan's hand immediately shoots out, a smug smirk is plastered on his face, silently demanding you to hand over what little money you have left.

"Your turn," you grumble, handing over the dice to Jeonghan with a defeated sigh.

Jeonghan rolls the dice. He's so close to winning, and he knows it. You're on the edge of bankruptcy and all he needs to do is push you a little more. All he needs to do is survive a few more turns and the win will be his. Jeonghan is confident he's going to win.

Jeonghan's confident smirk is quickly wiped off his face when he sees where his character lands after rolling the dice.

Jeonghan isn't going to win anytime soon.

He's going to fucking jail.

"HAH," you yell with a triumphant grin. "GO TO JAIL YOU SUCKER"

Jeonghan's mouth opens then closes without a sound; this was not something he anticipated happening. "Fine, i'll pay my way out," he finally responds after a moment, quickly returning to his confident and calm composure.

"If you want to pay your way out, then hand over the money," you say with a smirk, already knowing it's game over for him. "I'm kidding, that wasn't even an option, you only have 20 dollars left."

You watch with a laugh as Jeonghan's eyes widen in realization at his unfortunate luck. He was so close—so close to winning, and in a flash he wasn't. "Hah, better luck ne-"

You're cut off when Jeonghan smashes his lips against yours, taking your breath away. The monopoly game fades into the background and all you can think about is Jeonghan. Jeonghan. Jeonghan. His soft lips on yours, his gentle hands caressing your face, his mischievous eyes memorizing every inch of your face.

Then, just as quickly as it starts, it ends.

"Okay, here's the money. Now get me out of jail," Jeonghan says with a sweet smile after breaking off the kiss, 50 dollars suddenly appearing in the palm of his hand.

"Hey-," you shout in accusation, the realization that Jeonghan has been stealing from the bank this entire time dawning to you. "You cheater-"

Before you can say anymore, you're cut off with another kiss from Jeonghan, taking away your breath like his kisses always do.

After all, it's Jeonghan, your cute and mischievous but cheater of a boyfriend. Of course his every kiss will take away your breath and make you forget absolutely everything but him, and of course he'll use this to his full advantage.

"I won," Jeonghan whispers with a smile into your ear, smiling wider when you don't respond and simply press another gentle kiss onto his lips.

[castiwls]

Come home to me - c.n

Paring; castiel x reader

Synopsis: Getting hurt on a hunt was expected, but this was different. This left your life on the line

Warnings; mention of death and injury

Requested;anon

Notes;so sorry this took so long! also not wrote for castiel in a minute so I apologise if its kinda occ :) reqs and inbox are open

Masterlist

Pain was something you were used to. It wasn’t often you found yourself walking away from a hunt unscathed but this…this was something you’d never felt before.

White hot pain pulsed through your side as you tried to remember how to breathe again. You couldn’t even remember what had happened. One minute you were standing and the next you were looking at the barn's roof.

You weren’t even sure if you’d finished the hunt. The only thing you knew was that you were in pain.  A hand on your chest pulled you back to reality. The car jostled slightly causing you to wince as pain shot up your side.

“Is it bad?” Your voice was strained as you looked up at met a pair of blue eyes full of concern. Castiel was quiet his eyes trained on your face. “You're going to be okay.” He nodded before moving his hand over your side. 

His voice was passive but you could tell by his eyes that he was scared and you couldn’t tell if he was reassuring himself or you. Taking a sharp breath you reached a hand up towards him. One of his hands quickly wrapped around yours and squeezed it.

“M’tired Cas.” You mumbled watching as his eyes widened slightly. He shook his head before saying something you didn’t catch. Your ears seemed to fill with water as the voices in the car blended together to make one muffled mass.

The pain continued to pulse through you as quiet mumbles left your lips. Your eyes continued to droop as you watched him stare down at you. 

Truthfully you had no idea if you were dying. The thought left a small pinch of fear rushing through you. What if you were dying? What if you died in this car? What if you died and never got to tell him?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Castiel watched in near horror as your eyes finally closed and your body went limp on his lap. Placing a hand on your shoulder he shook you gently, careful of your wound. “Hey.” He could feel Dean’s eyes on him from the mirror as he continued to shake you.

The sound of the engine revving faded into the background as he continued calling your name begging for your eyes to open again.

Until now fear had been something he’d never felt. The idea alone was so alien to him that for a moment he had no idea what that cold feeling that seemed to chill his body was. 

For the first time, Castiel was genuinely scared. He knew healing you wasn’t an option until you got back to the motel. The car was too shaky and he wasn’t willing to risk causing you any more pain. 

“You're gonna be okay.” He mumbled pushing your hair off your face. Staring down at you he found himself slowly mapping your features. He’d always known that there was something about you. Something which left him constantly looking for your attention. Your smile alone could brighten his day and the thought of never seeing it again left him feeling sick to his stomach.

Losing you was maybe his worst fear, and now that might actually be a reality.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Castiel didn’t know how long it had been. Both Sam and Dean had begrudgingly retired to their own motel room leaving you both alone a few hours ago. 

Even after being healed you continued to lie lifeless on the old bed while he sat quietly at your side. Letting out a breath he leaned forward on his knees looking at you for a moment. Your clothes were still bloody and torn but your side now showed no memories of the gash that had been there only hours earlier.

Running a hand through his hair he leaned back into the chair, his mind still going a mile a minute. Castiel had never had the words to tell you how he really felt. He’d become so accustomed to being your ‘best friend’ that the idea of being anything more had slowly faded away. 

He knew he was in love. He’d been in love since the first day he’d met you and now he’d waited too long and may never get the chance to tell you.

A small pained groan broke through the silence and his head shot up. Another small noise left your lips as you stretched out your leg, feeling the stiffness on one side of your body slowly lessen.

“Wha..what happened?” You asked turning your head to where he was sitting. “Cas?” His hand shot out grabbing a hold of yours, his eyes wide. “How do you feel?” His voice was laced with concern.

You thought for a moment trying to piece together your foggy memories of what had happened on the hunt. The pieces slowly slotted together and you let out a worried breath immediately reaching for your side.

Feeling the now untouched skin you looked over to the angel. “Stiff but…much better.” You smiled weakly, fatigue still clouding your mind. “Thank you.” 

He nodded a small smile growing on his lips. Relief rushed through him as you slowly moved to sit up against the pillows. “I’m glad.” He was quiet for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Can I…can I tell you something.” Castiel felt his gaze fall onto his hands as you tilted your head watching him. “Of course. You can tell me anything.” You answered trying to reassure him. 

He nodded before falling quiet again. You watched as opened his mouth a few times before stopping himself and shaking his head. “Cas, come on you can tell me.” You laughed gently patting the bed beside you.

Taking the hint he came to sit beside you. He felt the bed dip slightly as you moved closer a smile on your lips. Part of him was so relieved still that you were alive that it took him a moment to realise that you’d placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m in love with you.” He said suddenly. The confession seemed to shock you both as you stiffened slightly and he sucked in a breath.

The air seemed to grow tense for a moment before he turned to face you, his breath catching in his throat as he mentally prepared himself for the possibility of you rejecting him.

Instead, you were smiling brightly, a small dusting of red on your cheeks. “You're not just saying that 'cause I almost died right?” 

He shook his head reaching for your hand which wasn’t on his shoulder. “No. No of course not. I really mean it.”

He looked down to where your hands were intertwined. “Well.” You moved your hand from his shoulder to gently tip his chin up.

“I guess it’s a good thing I feel the same.”

[mercillery]

YANDERE SHANKS AND MARINE READER

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + YANDERE THEMES + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I was bored and came up with this monstrosity. I don’t even like Shanks.

At first, Shanks' obsession with you doesn’t hit like a cannonball to the chest. Nope, it's more like a quiet wave that barely brushes your ankles—annoying but harmless, right? Wrong. Soon enough, that wave becomes a full-blown tide, and before you know it, you're swept away. It all starts with his simple admiration. You’re not like the other Marines he’s encountered. You’ve got this unshakable sense of duty, a moral compass that actually points in the right direction unlike most in the Navy, and a discipline that, frankly, makes you a bit of an anomaly. Shanks finds it...fascinating. And it’s not like he immediately jumps into full-blown, yandere territory. No, no. This man’s descent into obsession is slow, methodical. You wouldn’t even notice it until you're waist-deep in his fixation, and by then? Well, good luck swimming out.

It starts small. Maybe it’s while he’s kicking back, drink in hand, surrounded by the raucous laughter of his crew. But instead of fully enjoying the moment, his mind drifts—to you. You, in that crisp Marine uniform, carrying out your duties like it’s second nature. He finds himself smiling at the thought, then catching himself like, “Wait, what?” It happens again at the tavern—he’s deep in conversation with Benn, but his thoughts are far from the present. Instead, he’s wondering where you are, what you’re doing, if you ever think about him too.

And it’s in these quiet moments that the discomfort starts to grow. You’re a Marine. He’s a pirate. There's a pretty solid line drawn between you two, and it's not one he can just ignore. But the idea that you might never see him as anything more than a "wanted man" eats at him. It starts as a nagging thought, just a small itch at the back of his mind. Then, suddenly, it’s a full-on irritation that won’t go away. But here’s the thing about Shanks—he’s got the patience of a saint. You won’t catch him spiraling out or throwing tantrums. Nah, he’s not that guy. If anything, he plays the long game—the long game. We're talking years, decades, lifetimes if need be. He’s not about to rush in, guns blazing. He’ll wait, chip away at your defenses bit by bit, while always keeping that charming grin plastered on his face like nothing’s wrong.

And don’t think for a second that his easy-going, laid-back nature means he’s going to let this slide. Oh no. He might not lose his temper, but that doesn’t mean he’s not making plans—subtle ones, of course. He's just waiting for the right moment to make you realize that he’s the only option. You might think you have freedom, but it’s all an illusion.

Shanks is a master of hiding those darker intentions behind that trademark grin of his. You know the one—the carefree, charismatic smile that makes it impossible to distrust him. It’s his greatest weapon, honestly. You’d never guess that behind all the jokes, the playful attitude, and the hearty laugh, there’s something a little more… possessiveness lurking. He’s a charmer, no doubt. And charm? Well, that’s just the perfect way to keep anyone, especially you, from suspecting a thing. During your encounters, he’ll engage in that easy, casual banter, as if you’re just two people having a friendly chat on opposite sides of the law. If you ever did get the faintest inkling that something was off, he’d wave it away with a quick joke or a playful comment, and bam—you’re laughing before you even realize it. Suspicion? What suspicion?

Oh, but don’t be fooled. Shanks knows exactly what he’s doing. Manipulation? Oh, he’s practically a connoisseur of it. But he’s subtle about it—really subtle. He doesn’t need to go full villain monologue on you. No, he’s got finesse. Conversations with him are like verbal chess matches where you think you’re just having a nice chat, but really, he’s been 10 steps ahead since you said “hello.” He’ll start small, dropping hints, little questions that make you think twice about your Marine superiors. “Are you sure the Navy’s got your best interests at heart?” he’ll ask, with that easygoing tone that makes it seem like he’s just curious. But each comment is deliberate, each seed of doubt planted with care. The worst part? You don’t even notice you’re being manipulated. That’s his talent—he makes it all seem so natural.

Shanks has a way of making the pirate life sound pretty good too. Freedom on the open seas, no rules, no rigid Marine codes to follow—just you, him, and the wind in your hair. He’s not about to shove you off the Marine ship with a cutlass in hand or anything. No, he’s got more class than that. It’s all in the subtlety—he wants to make you want the life he’s offering, to make you think it’s your idea. That’s the horror beauty of his approach. And he doesn’t need to rush things either. In fact, he enjoys watching it all unfold, like a game he knows he’s already winning, even if it’s just a little at a time.

And no, he’s not sadistic or cruel about it—he’s just got that patient confidence. Every time he sees you waver, every time you start questioning just a little bit more, he gets this quiet satisfaction. It’s like watching his plan come together, piece by piece, with that percentage of “winning you over” ticking up in his mind. He’s not in a hurry. He’s got all the time in the world, and he knows that eventually, you’ll come around. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon enough, you’ll find yourself standing on the deck of his ship, wondering how you ever thought the Marine life was the right choice.

And no, Shanks isn’t the type to toss you into a burlap sack and lock you in a room somewhere—he's way more refined than that. Kidnapping? Please. That’s amateur hour. No, Shanks is the kind of guy who enjoys the chase. He plays the long game like a master strategist. Instead of brute force, he uses patience, charm, and a little bit of cunning to get what he wants. The first step? He studies you, not in a creepy binoculars-from-a-bush way okay, maybe slightly, but in that clever, calculated fashion that only Shanks can pull off.

He learns everything about you—your routines, your patrol routes, where you dock your ship, and even the little things, like your favorite taverns and preferred training spots. He takes mental notes with the kind of attention to detail you wouldn’t expect from a man who spends half his time drinking and laughing his head off. The scary part? He does all this while maintaining that relaxed and carefree demeanor, so you never suspect a thing.

Despite being a busy Yonko with his hands full you know, ruling the seas and all that, Shanks makes time for you in his own… special way. You’ll start noticing him “coincidentally” showing up wherever you are. After a skirmish with some rowdy pirates? Boom, Shanks just so happens to be there, giving you a smile like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Run into him while you’re off-duty on some random island? Oh, what a surprise! What’s even funnier is that it seems like he’s always in the same bar as you—whether you’re grabbing a quick drink after a long day or taking a breather. Of course, none of this is by chance. Shanks isn’t just lucky. He knows exactly where you’ll be. Every time you think it’s fate? Nope, it's just Shanks doing what he does best—playing the long game like a pro.

And it’s not just him, either. The rest of his crew? Yeah, they’re probably unknowingly complicit in all this. To them, it’s just another day, chilling, maybe gathering intel on Navy movements. Little do they know, they’re actually helping Shanks with his personal side project: you. He’s got them keeping tabs on where you’re stationed, which islands you’re patrolling, and when you’re vulnerable. They think they’re just doing their regular stuff, keeping the boss informed about any activity, but really, Shanks is sitting back, piecing together your every move. The only person who’s likely able to tell that something is up is Benn.

It’s almost comical how well it works. One of his crew might casually report, “Oh, yeah, we saw them dock at Loguetown.” And Shanks, acting all cool, will just nod and say something like, “Ah, interesting.” But inside? He’s already planning his next “accidental” encounter. He’s got it all under control, and by the time you figure out that these run-ins are a little too coincidental, you’re already in too deep.

Remember when I said Shanks is a connoisseur of manipulation? Yeah, he’s not just playing mind games in casual conversation. Shanks doesn’t just want to win you over in a chat or two—he’s looking at the long-term investment. One of his favorite tactics? Slowly, subtly isolating you from the people around you. It’s not like he’s going to come right out and tell you to ditch your Marine buddies—that’d be way too obvious, and Shanks is way too smooth for that.

Instead, he drops little hints here and there. He’s clever about it, too—he doesn’t bad-mouth the Marines outright. He’s more subtle. He’ll say things like, “Do you ever feel like the Navy’s ideals aren’t totally in line with your own? You seem like someone who’s got their own sense of justice.” He’s not being confrontational; he’s just gently guiding you to start questioning things…

And before you know it, you’re thinking, “Wow, he’s very perceptive—very understanding too.” It’s genius because it makes you feel like these thoughts are your own, when really, they’ve been carefully planted by a Yonko who’s playing chess while everyone else is playing checkers.

But of course, Shanks’ goal isn’t just to make you feel understood. His goal is to make you feel disconnected from the very people who are in the way of his love for you—your fellow Marines. Slowly, you start seeing them differently. They don’t really understand you, do they? They don’t get your struggles, your doubts. Not like Shanks does, anyway. And without you even realizing it, you start to distance yourself from them, emotionally if not physically. He’s effectively creating a gap between you and the Marines—his subtle way of prying you away from the Navy and toward his world.

You literally have no idea it’s happening. Shanks is so good at this that you think these doubts are just part of your own natural reflection. He knows that as long as you’re loyal to the Navy, there’ll always be other Marine’s standing between him and the life he wants with you. He’s playing the long game, making sure that when the time comes, your loyalty to the Marines will be shaky at best. And once that loyalty starts to crack, well... that’s when Shanks moves in for the win, ready to pull you into his loving arms before you can even realize what’s happening.

Shanks, being the smooth operator that he is, absolutely loves testing your boundaries. His touches always seem harmless—at least at first. It starts simple, maybe a friendly pat on the shoulder after a sparring match or his hand lightly resting on your lower back as he guides you through a busy crowd. Completely innocent, right? Nothing to see here. But then, over time, you start to notice that his touch lingers just a little too long. That pat on the shoulder feels more like a subtle claim. The hand on your lower back? Yeah, it’s gentle, but there’s a certain possessiveness to it, almost like he's marking his territory in the most casual way possible.

At first, you brush it off. I mean, it’s Shanks—he’s naturally touchy, right? But then it happens again. And again. And again. And again. And again…

Suddenly, you’re wondering, “Wait... is he flirting with me? Or is this just friendly?” It’s maddening, because Shanks is so good at playing it cool that you can’t quite put your finger on what’s going on. Every time you start thinking, "Okay, maybe this is more than just friendly banter," he’ll flash that big grin of his or crack a joke, and you’re back to square one. Is this guy flirting, or is he just being Shanks?

The thing is, whether you realize it or not, he’s playing a much bigger game. Shanks is slowly but surely pulling you away from your rigid Marine life, introducing you to the idea of being closer to him—literally and figuratively. Each casual touch, each playful smile, is like a breadcrumb leading you further into his world, where the rules are looser, and the lines between friend and something more get blurrier by the day.

But the kicker? You don’t know where it’s all leading. Is he just messing with you? Testing how far he can go before you push back? Or is there a master plan here, where in the end, he’s not just pulling you out of Marine life but pulling you into his life? One where you belong to him completely? Guess we’ll never know! Until it’s too late, of course…

Despite his usual laid-back, “I’ve-got-all-the-time-in-the-world” vibe, Shanks has a violent side, and it’s a side that only shows when something he cares about—like you—is in real danger. Sure, he’s all about fun, drinks, and the occasional brawl, but when it comes to protecting what he cares for? That’s when the switch flips. If Shanks ever felt that you were truly threatened, or if someone dared to make a move on you, all that carefree energy goes right out the window. Shanks would become a force of nature, and suddenly, there’s no smile, no jokes—just swift, brutal efficiency.

But here’s the thing—he’s not the type to fly into a blind rage. His yandere tendencies are more... surgical? Let’s say some pirate gets too bold and threatens you, or maybe there’s another Marine who’s getting a little too close for his liking. Shanks wouldn’t hesitate for a second. He’d handle the situation so quickly and so cleanly that by the time you realized something was wrong, the problem would already be, well, gone. Vanished. Poof. As if they never existed.

His crew wouldn’t suspect a thing. They’d think their captain was just being his usual self, stepping in to defend someone he cares about. They’d chalk it up to Shanks doing what Shanks does—protecting his own. But little do they know, it’s not just some offhand act of loyalty. No, Shanks has been calculating this for a while. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s making sure that no one, and I mean no one, comes between you and him.

Now, unless you’re incredibly sharp—or just really, really perceptive—you might not even notice. After all, Shanks is nothing if not smooth. But if you start putting two and two together, you might realize that these sudden "disappearances" around you aren’t just bad luck or coincidence. Maybe you’d start to notice that the people who pose a threat to you or more specifically, Shanks' claim on you always seem to vanish without a trace. And, well, if you’re smart enough to figure it out, let’s just hope you don’t mind, because by then... you’re already in pretty deep with him.

If Shanks ever got the feeling that you were slipping away—maybe you start pulling back, doubling down on your Marine loyalty, or just seem less receptive to his charm—well, that's when things would quickly start to get concerning and worrying. Shanks is usually the master of patience, but if he felt like he was losing control over you, he’d start to escalate, just a bit. Now, don’t worry, he’d never hurt you directly. That’s not his style. But his tactics? Oh, they’d start to get a lot more aggressive.

First, he’d start by nudging things in his favor, slowly sabotaging your career in the Navy without you even realizing it. Maybe you’re framed for some minor misconduct—nothing too wild, just enough to put you under scrutiny. Or maybe he’ll manipulate a few situations to make it look like you’re getting just a little too cozy with pirates. Who knows, you might "accidentally" end up in the same place as him more often than the Navy would like. And let's be real, that doesn’t exactly look great on a Marine’s record, does it?

Shanks, being the clever man he is, wouldn’t let you see the full extent of his obsession unless it was absolutely necessary. To you, it might just feel like bad luck or a series of unfortunate events. After all, why would the Navy be questioning your loyalty? Why would your superiors start doubting your dedication? You’re one of the good ones, right? But behind the scenes, Shanks is pulling strings, slowly guiding things to make it harder for you to stay in the Marines. The plan is simple: if the Navy pushes you away, you’ll have no choice but to gravitate towards him. And who wouldn’t want to be a part of his carefree pirate life after all the stress the Marines put you through?

Now, if you’re smart enough—or just plain stubborn enough—to figure out what’s going on, that’s when Shanks might have to resort to Plan B. He doesn’t like the idea of cruelty, and he’d rather not sabotage your career directly. But if it’s the only option left to keep you by his side? He won’t hesitate to strike.

At the end of the day, Shanks doesn’t want to play dirty, but for you? Oh he’ll make an exception. After all, if the Navy is standing between him and the life he wants with you, then they’re just another obstacle to remove. And trust, if Shanks has his mind set on something, nothing—and no one—can stop him. Not even the Marines.

Ultimately, Shanks envisions a future where you’re free from the Navy, sailing the seas with him at your side—not as just another crew member, but as his equal. Or, more accurately, as his. In Shanks’ mind, this isn’t about controlling you overtly. He doesn’t want you to feel like a prisoner in his grasp; no, he wants you to believe that you’re choosing him because of his charm, his charisma, and everything that makes him, well, Shanks. You won’t even realize that, slowly but surely, you’re already tangled in his web.

His obsession isn’t suffocating—not outwardly, anyway. It’s the kind of love that lets you feel the breeze of freedom while subtly guiding your steps until all roads lead back to him. He’s sure that in time, you’ll see things his way. You’ll come to understand that his love is real, genuine, and that no one else could care for you the way he does. And when that day comes, you’ll finally reciprocate. You’ll see that this was all meant to be.

But if not? If you don’t come around on your own? Well, Shanks has all the time in the world. He’s patient. He knows how to wait, how to play the long game. He can be gentle. He can be kind. He can let the world unfold at its own pace. But remember, even the most patient man has his limits.

And when those limits are reached… well, you might not like what’s waiting for you at the end of that road.

[schemmentigfs]

Caught Red-Handed.

paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.

summary: janine accidentally catches you and melissa during a intense making out session at school.

warnings: smut (obviously) public sex, spanking, dirty talk, mommy kink, praises, fingering, swearing, melissa is just a horny motherfucker in this one.

author notes: the winner of the poll! my inspiration for this oneshot came when I was scrolling through my spotify playlist. Or maybe it was an excuse to write another smut featuring melissa & reader. (yeah, definitely the second option.) sorry for the little delay, I was going to post yesterday but I had an exhausting day and forgot it. Just me being me. Anyways, enjoy. 🫶🏻

You lost track of time as you felt your body being pushed into the janitor's closet with some force and urgency. Your back hit a cupboard containing several of Mr Johnson's cleaning products, some falling to the floor on impact. Making a loud noise echo throughout the entire hallway that could alert anyone, but that didn't scare your girlfriend who, unlike you, wasn't scared of the possibility of being caught and continued the makeout session passionately, smirking into your lips.

“We can't—” your insistence and protests are interrupted by a small gasp when Melissa's soft and warm lips deposited small kisses and bites on your neck. Marking and claiming you as hers, with each of the hickeys. For the rest of the week, you would have to wear something to hide those blue and purple marks if you didn't want any of your co-workers to suspect anything. “Babe. Someone might hear us or worse.”

Since you started a serious relationship with the older woman two months ago, it was common for you to have a secret makeout session somewhere at school that would lead to hours of loving or rough sex (it really depended on Melissa's mood) when you got home. But today, she didn't seem in a hurry to go to her place soon. In fact, she had other plans.

She had spent the entire morning teasing you and discreetly flirting with you whenever she got the chance. And instead of being embarrassed like always, you challenged her at lunch saying that she could do better than that. You were quite naive to think she wasn't going to do anything, but here was Melissa Schemmenti about to fuck you senseless and show you who was in charge.

“You just need to be quiet, sweet girl,” she whispers and began to unbutton your blouse. Massaging and squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Or everyone will find out how you are a desperate little slut for mommy.”

You throw your head back, losing yourself in the pleasure and sensation. “Mel,” you groaned when when she throwed the fabric on the floor and pinched and licked your nipples. “Please.”

The older woman stops for a second and put a hand on your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. “Be a good girl and behave, understand?“

Remaining quiet, you pull away slightly, still a little hesitant about getting caught and having sex with Melissa on school grounds. It didn't sound too appropriate, especially in the janitor's closet. “Honey, let’s go home. We can’t do it here.”

A fury is evident in her green eyes and she slaps your ass hard, making you wince and hide your face in her shoulder. “I told ya to behave and not act like a fucking whore.” Another even harder slap. “Do you understand?” she repeats.

The change in her behavior sent shivers throughout your whole body. Melissa was a very possessive and dominant woman, it was obvious and everyone was aware of it. She liked the feeling of power, of being in control and being honest, you liked that side of her. It suited her a lot.

“Yes mommy, I understand. I’ll be good and behave,” you gulped feeling all the excitement go straight to your core.

“That’s my good girl, now shut up and lean against the wall. Don’t make me wait or I will punish you just like last time,” she commands with a harsh tone and you nod, not wanting to be punished for bad behavior (at least not yet.)

Melissa slowly approaches and gives your lips a tender peck, before undoing your jeans and panties in a quick, single movement. Leaving her precious and innocent angel completely naked, ready to be ruined by her. Instantly you wrap one of your legs around her waist. Earning a satisfied hum from the redhead.

“Look at you, my beautiful girl, always so obedient and ready for me,” she parted your folds with her slender fingers, biting her lip as she noticed and spread your wetness. “I've been thinking about it all day, how I was going to destroy you.”

“Please, I need you inside. Please mommy, don’t tease,” you whimper when the redhead presses her thumb on your clit and circles your entrance. The action emitting a trembling moan to fall from your lips.

“It's kind of funny, you know? Earlier you were all confident trying to challenge me,“ she chucked peppering kisses in your entire face to relax you for what was about to happen. “And now you're begging and aching to be touched by mommy.”

After painful seconds, without warning she enters you with three fingers, filling your tight hole deliciously. Barely giving you time to get used to the painful stretching and thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Melissa knew exactly where and how to touch you, making you a squirming babbling mess every single time.

“FUCK!” you scream, covering your mouth with one of your hands. “That feels so good..”

She smiles mischievously, enchanted by the way your walls clenched around her fingers. The smell of sex and the sound of your celestial moans filling the room as she curled and pumped her digits, slowly bringing you to climax. Her free hand gripping your hips to keep you steady.

“Do you like this, babygirl? Do you like it when I go deep inside you?” the woman asks while mocking your totally fucked up state — your hair was slightly messy, your neck was covered in love marks and your eyes were wide. A beautiful sight for Melissa. “Answer me and you'll be rewarded.”

“Yes, I love it when you fill me up mommy. You make me feel so good,” your words came out in a whisper, as your breathing seemed increasingly labored and uneven. Your hips moved back and forth in time with the rhythm of her fingers inside you. “Shit,” You cry out as she finds your spongy spot and slows down a little.

As much as Melissa was enjoying watching your face turn into a complete blur of pleasure with each touch, she knew she had to be quick to avoid the risk of Mr. Johnson or anyone else coming in and catching the two of you in such an intimate moment.

“Such a good little girl. C'mon, sweetheart, cum for mommy,” the Italian whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe. “You can do this, princess.”

“I’m gonna—” you meweld, grabbing onto the lapels of her green blazer and trying to hold Melissa close. A warm white liquid ran down your girlfriend's fingers and wrist, your legs were trembling. You instantly wrapped your arms around her neck so you could balance yourself, since you didn't trust your ability to stand without holding on to something. “Holy shit.”

During your high, Melissa whispered sweet nothings and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. “Take a deep breath, amore mio,” she instructed, removing her fingers from you affectionately, once you calmed down.

“Feel better?” you ask with a genuine laugh putting on your clothes again with some difficulty.

“Much better. But I can't wait to get home and bend you in the kitchen counter.” She responds in a seductive tone, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. And you fight the urge to stay there and let her do whatever she wants to you.

God, that fiery redhead would be the death of you.

“Well, I think we better go home right away. To start our long night as soon as possible..” you spoke with a stupid smile and intertwined your fingers together, pulling her so you could leave discreetly.

But the plan backfired when you opened the door and bumped into Janine, who had an expression of complete shock on her face, alternating her gaze between the two of you, letting her bag fall to the floor. “Oh! You were—” she says louder than usual, almost alerting the rest of the crew nearby. Shit, you had been caught.

An uncomfortable silence settles and you hide your face in your hands, mentally cursing yourself for not having convinced Melissa that this was a bad idea. And now it was time to deal with the consequences of the sinful act.

“Don’t say a word, pipsqueak or you’ll regret it.” Melissa threatens, crossing her arms and giving the youngest a deadly glare, in a desperate and failed attempt to intimidate her, but the redhead's flushed cheeks gave away how embarrassed she was by the situation. “I mean it.”

The second grade teacher raises her hands in redemption. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I swear!” she gives a panicked smile. “I was just in the hallway and I ended up hearing a scream and wanted to check what happened. Guess this explains a lot. So for how long have you been together? Does anyone know besides me? Oh, and are you living together?” Her expression softens and she launches into the questions, seeming to be starting a mini interrogation.

“It’s been two months and no one knows yet, we’re planning to tell everyone soon. And we don’t live together, even though I spend more time at Mel’s house than at mine.” You replied calmly trying to keep up with her quick words.

“That's cute, I'm glad you two are dating. I've always been rooting for you! Seriously.”

After more questions, Janine said goodbye to you. Promising that she wouldn't tell anyone beforehand — this was after another small threat from your girlfriend (of course) who wanted to make sure that wasn't going to happen.

“Next time, I'll listen to you about not doing a makeout session on school grounds. It was a bit awkward.” Melissa admits placing a hand on your back. “Ready to go?”

“Always.”

“Oi, lovebirds. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mr. Johnson asks, catching your attention. Pointing to a squeegee and bucket of water. “You make the mess, you clean it up.” Fuck, apparently you and Melissa weren't going home anytime soon.

[windichimes]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ʜᴄꜱ

warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, threats

note: he’s so pretty and annoying and i’m weak for him 😞

art credit: ma10ba (twitter)

Limitless – Gojo Satoru

obsessive, possessive, annoying

Once Gojo enters your life, he becomes a permanent fixture. He’s everywhere, and wherever you go, you're bound to bump into him. It’s like he has a sixth sense (or eyes) that lets him know when you're out and about. As soon as you take a step into a public area, there he is, materializing out of thin air with a grin on his face.

He's shamelessly vocal about his affection for you too, and anyone who stands remotely close to is bound to get insights into your relationship. What’s more is he’s always clinging onto you at every opportunity. Walking? Might as well do it while holding his hand. Sitting on the couch? He's got you pulled against his side, and if he's in a mischievous mood, you'll end up in his lap with no means of escape.

It's not just private displays of affection either, Gojo is just as affectionate in public, if not more so. His hand always finds its way to touch you, whether it's wrapping around your waist, resting on your thigh, or simply brushing against your arm. He's clingy and possessive, always seeking your attention and affection. The worst, really.

He's the embodiment of perfection – the strongest – and he knows it. People would do anything to be in your place, he often tells you.

“Admit it, you're secretly finding me irresistible, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes. Go on, say it. Make my day.”

You're stunned into silence by his audacity, your eyes wide open in a mixture of bewilderment and surprise. For all his claims of having good vision, it seems he’s selectively blind to your glaring distaste of him.

“When was the last time you went to the optometrist?”

Gojo laughs before scoffing in mock offense, putting a hand to his chest in an exaggerated manner. His eyes sparkle with unabashed delight.

"I’ll have you know my vision is perfect, unlike yours, which is clearly clouded by your denial of your undying attraction to me.”

“No, I’m seriously worried–”

You’re interrupted when Gojo unceremoniously slings an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. His touch is too comfortable for your liking, and he pinches your cheek with his free hand, a large, infuriating smile on his face.

"And it's not just your vision that's a little off," he chides, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Your memory, too. It’s like you’ve forgotten about what I said about sticking close to me.”

His smile becomes sharper, predatory, as he brushes his fingers lightly over your cheek, tracing a path towards your jawline before grasping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“Remember that next time. Kay?”

Gojo's mind can't comprehend rejection, it's a concept foreign and alien to him. From birth, he's been pampered and given everything he desires, so when you refuse to give yourself to him, it's as though you've thrown a wrench in the well-oiled machine of his world. At first, he's confused, uncertain of how to react to your resistance. However, he eventually comes to the conclusion that he can’t let you go. This realization is swift, and it's a chilling acknowledgement of the twisted dynamic that's taken root in your relationship. To Gojo, losing you is not an option, no matter the cost. In his mind, you belong to him, and he'll stop at nothing to ensure that you're firmly ensnared in his grasp.

You’re his, can’t you see that?

[rindreamery]

the apartment we won't share.

it just wasn't meant to be— a bitter sentiment you and itoshi rin had agreed on. you two deserved better, wanted better, but it doesn't change the fact that you two will always love each other. you'll stay stuck, thinking of him, in an apartment you will never share. itoshi rin x reader 𝜗𝜚 angst, no comfort 𝜗𝜚 w.c. 1.9k+ 𝜗𝜚 content: no warnings

note. i was listening to "the apartment we won't share" and "seasons" non-stop while writing this. i just needed to write something sad LMFAO

“it gets better with time,” you always tell yourself.

but the world continues to move around you, and you still feel like you’re frozen in time. your mind is trapped in its own prison— drifting off to a place you can never return to, dreaming of a time when you had everything you wanted. 

you feel like you’re stuck in an empty apartment in winter. the walls are white and barren, and the world outside is covered in a blanket of snow, and it’s like you’re staring at a blank slate. the wooden floors are aging terribly, cracking and lifting, but that doesn’t bother you. it doesn’t make you like it any less. you could always repair it, or maybe you could simply throw a rug over it and pretend that everything was okay. 

it wasn’t perfect, but it was yours, and you guys were going to fix it together. 

it was a blank slate filled with dreams and promises about the future— dreaming of what kind of people you two would turn into, dreaming of what it would look like when it was no longer winter. imagining, as you stared out the window, what the world outside would look like as the snow faded away into a new season, into something else. would the trees outside bloom into cherry blossoms? or would they bloom into peach blossoms? 

“i think they’ll be apple blossoms,” rin had answered, then. “what do you think?”

“that wasn’t even one of the options,” you frowned at him, playfully nudging his side. he frowned back at you, staring at one another— but neither of you could fight the urge to smile. “to answer your question, though, i think it’ll be peach.”

the trees outside were now starting to bloom. the petals were light pink with a cleft on the tip, they looked like hearts, a singular flower on each stem, smelling faintly of fresh sap and honey. the sweet scent wafts into the open window, but you feel anything but. bitterly, you realize: you were both wrong. it was a cherry blossom tree, blooming softly against the fresh green of the grass around it, the remnants of winter having melted away into a fresh spring. 

the world is renewing itself; a rebirth. and it makes you feel somewhat spiteful, it makes you feel as if you’re falling behind. as if the world isn’t giving you enough time to grieve what you’ve lost. and then you start to wonder, it makes you start to think of him again, and you lose all your progress. 

you think of him because you know rin. he overthinks, gets lost in his thoughts, as often as you do. so, does he feel the same way, right now? is he thinking of you too? does he miss you as much as you miss him? but you stop yourself— it’s unhealthy. 

you just find it funny, how time works— how, one day, you could go from planning your future around one another, together. and then, the next, he’s gone and you’re alone. you’re left to sit by yourself in the empty living room, boxes of furniture remaining unopened around you, because they were things you both had decided on. things you both wanted. you couldn’t bring yourself to open them.

and then a flash of green catches your eyes from your peripheral, sitting on top of a box.

“i think this would look cute,” you had tugged at his hand, grabbing his attention, to show a potted cactus. it was short, stubby, in its early stages of maturing. it was perfect. “i wanna watch it grow by our window.”

“yeah,” your eyes remained fixated on the cactus, but his eyes had remained on you. you didn’t see the small smile on his lips, the look of love swirling in his eyes, unconditional then. “let’s watch it grow, together.”

the cactus never really grew, you realize. 

it’s wilting, leaning against its pot for support, the once-vibrant green now fading into a muddier green. it was never placed on the windowsill, always tucked away in a dark corner of the room. stunted by the neglect as you had both grown busy, as you had started to drift away.

time heals, people had always said to you, but you now know that time also has the power to tear things apart.

it's a victim to time. (and maybe, you think to yourself, you were too.)

you’re staring at it until your eyes begin to blur, and then you simply blink away the haziness. you turn your head away, trying to suppress the memories, the questions. willing the what-ifs that lingered in the corner of your mind to go away. but it doesn’t work, and the thoughts keep pushing and pushing, until it's at the forefront of your mind. 

what if i hadn't let him go? what if i asked him to stay? what if we fought harder? what if we had become better for each other?  your mind keeps asking all these questions, but you have no answers. what would this apartment look like right now?

happier— that, you know that answer to.

as you sit on the floor, you think of how it used to be, of what the two of you used to be— images of happy smiles and secret, shared moments float around somewhere in your thoughts. the echoes of soft laughter still bounces around the walls, sometimes, but it's no longer from you. just from a hallucination of a distant version of yourself, dancing around the room. an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your heart. it feels weird to miss him, but it feels even weirder to miss yourself. is that even possible?

you begin to wonder where it all went wrong. and your mind starts to snowball.

truthfully, you couldn’t pinpoint it, the moment when you realized he was slipping through your fingers— or was it you? or was it neither? maybe just the space between two of you, growing with each day, until the two of you could no longer get to one another. until neither of you could reach each other’s hearts. to feel so distant, with a man you loved and lived with, was a different type of loneliness.

this room, you realize as you sit in the center of it all, has always felt so much larger without him. 

“how many kids do you want?” you were both lying on the floor, staring at the empty ceiling. your legs were intertwined, your head placed on his chest, listening to the constant thrum of his heart. you felt him hum, at your words. “do you even want kids?”

“i don’t care, honestly.” his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “as long as it’s with you, i’m happy with whatever.”

“gross, who even are you? this is not the rin i know.” you joked, and you felt him pinch your side. “i’m just kidding… me too, though.”

the life you imagined sharing with rin, the plans you both made— all of it fades into a hazy, but somehow vivid, dream. you always find yourself wanting to slip into it, to fantasize and live in it for one day longer, to remember how it felt. but you remind yourself: there’s a reason why it ended.

you both deserved more— more than whatever the two of you could provide. 

“i’m sorry,” you remember hearing rin’s distant voice through the phone. “i know i said i’d be able to make it back for christmas, i just— i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you stood there, phone pressed to your ear, as you stared out the window as the blizzard covered the world in snow. you felt cold, despite the walls surrounding you, bracing you from the harsh winds. you felt cold but you understood why, all too well. “most of the planes wouldn’t even land in this weather anyways. besides, i was supposed to go with you, but i couldn't.”

you knew what dating someone like him meant. you knew it would mean having to spend time away from him, thousands of miles between you, and infrequent phone calls. you knew— but you didn’t want to get used to it. you didn’t want to know what it felt like to be constantly disappointed, to sit by your phone as you sat through the radio silence. to feel guilty everytime you wanted more from him.

you just wanted him there. (but you knew that was too much to ask for.)

“i still wish i was there with you,” he had said after a beat of silence, and his voice was softer. “i miss you.”

“me too,” and maybe in a sick moment of clarity, you realized he deserved someone who didn’t need him; not as much as you did. i wish you were here too, but you never said it.

you both deserved more— something the two of you would never be able to give to one another. 

what if i had tried? another question, straggling after the torrent of many others you had asked yourself.

but you shake your head, because you know the answer. trying wouldn't have fixed anything.

you still wished it was different. words would never be able to explain how you feel; the deep stinging in your heart, the tugs at your heartstring, the feeling of pain that shoots through your fingers when you think too deeply of him. words would never be able to explain how much you wish that it didn’t have to be like this. 

you think that maybe the weight of the future was too heavy for the both of you, maybe you two just weren’t ready for whatever you had dreamed of. rin, driven by his ambition, his thirst for greatness, and you—stuck between wanting him to be everything he dreamed of but also wanting to be the one he chose. 

you didn't want him to choose, so you chose for him.

it was at the peak of winter when it all fell apart in your hands. “i think… i think it’s been a long time coming, honestly.” you had laughed bitterly, you laughed even though your heart felt like it was being ripped into two. your voice was soft and broken, like you were already grieving, and the raging blizzard outside threatened to drown you out. “i just want you to be happy. but, i want me to be happy too.”

you both stand in the middle of the room, still as unfurnished as when you had both bought it.

“i’m sorry,” was all rin could say. but he couldn’t even look at you. his fingers were intertwined with yours, hands shaking as he held onto you, but he couldn’t meet your eyes. “i’m sorry i couldn’t be enough for you.”

you couldn't look at him either.

you stared out, blinking away the tears that pooled in your eyes. you wanted to speak, you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t just him— but the words all felt like they were stuck in your throat. constantly gulping back the barrage of tears, soothing yourself, too afraid to cry in front of him. 

afraid that if you did, he would want to take it all back. to take you back. to hold you in his arms and tell you that this was a mistake. 

and that you would cave, and repeat the cycle.

you knew, then, that love wasn’t enough to hold you both together— not when you were both chasing different versions of happiness for one another.

maybe, your dreams had never aligned to begin with.

but that’s what made it hurt more. the fact that you could never truly hate him for leaving like he did, because you did too. you could never hate him for wanting better, for reaching for something more than what you could give him. because you wanted it too. maybe not the same dreams, but you wanted to be someone who could stand beside him, strong enough to handle everything he was destined for. you wanted to be the one to hold him when things got tough. but you couldn’t pretend to be that somebody for him. 

so you let go.

not because you stopped loving him, but because you loved him enough to let him go. you still love him, and maybe always will, even as you learn to live without him. you'll always think of him when the snow first comes around, and when the trees start to bloom. it’s a kind of love that doesn’t fade, the kind that sticks with you forever, no matter how much you wish it would. 

the world continues to move around you, as it always does, indifferent to the memories you carry. maybe you’ll always wonder what could have been, dream of an apartment you’ll never share, for the future that was never for you two to have. 

the world will continue to move, and you know that, eventually, you will too.

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[weirdlookingsnakewithlegs]

Ik this is probably a rlly weird request but could you write about Megatron purposely attempting to get thundercracker and skywarp killed?

Probs for like better control over starscream of smth like that?

I know you probably wanted angst but I could only see this as a chance for Starscream to be the badass motherfucker that he is

To Make An Enemy

Words: 870

“What did you do?”

Megatron’s expression remained imperturbable, helm slowly cocking to the side. “Whatever are you babbling about Starscream?” He looked so high and mighty on that throne of his.

“My trine, Megatron. Novastorm’s trine just returned with them both.” The seeker’s lowered wings feign calm and he watches with great displeasure as a smile crosses the warlord’s face. “They were both close to red lining from energon loss, found under rubble near an Autobot outpost.”

“You sent your seekers to patrol an off limits zone?” Starscream wishes he could gouge Megatron’s optics out.

“You had told me that Thundercracker and Skywarp were to be sent to an off-planet station, not buried beneath rubble and left to die.” His wings twitch, the force he’s using to hold them down straining his hinges. “Were you planning to tell me their sparks flickered out on the way to the station or were you going to announce their would have been demise was your doing? Hm? Would you have painted me as lucky that it were them and not me?”

“Do not put such actions on me, Starscream.” Megatron’s voice is firm, optics narrowing down from his throne. “I don’t know why you bother with such company, neither of them are competent.”

Oh how Starscream feels his wires burn.

“Then perhaps I should take my company elsewhere.” The SIC straightens his back strut, wings shifting upward form their downward position. He takes great pride in hearing Megatron’s servo claw the edge of his throne, watching the warlord sit up. Good, that’s exactly what Starscream wants.

“And where exactly would you go?” The leader’s voice is challenging.

“There are several options.” Starscream responds, turning his helm to peer at his digits. He extends his claws, taking a moment to admire them just to piss Megatron off. “There are many seekers with the neutrals, I’m sure many of my seekers would be happy to reunite with their families.”

Megatron’s expression appears weary and Starscream finally looks back up from his servo, shifting his weight onto one pede. “The Autobots are also a decent choice.”

The leader shoots out of his throne, pedes slamming against the floor as he starts for the SIC.

He opens his intake to yell only to be stopped by the nose cone of Starscream’s missile pressing directly against his denta. The seeker snarls at him, stepping forward to purposefully shove the missile into his intake.

“One wrong move and I’ll blast that oversized helm of yours back to the All Spark.”

Megatron doesn’t move, he only glances at his surrounding soldiers and TIC. Soundwave doesn’t look away from his systems but he notes the way Ravage is staring him down.

A thought crosses his mind.

Starscream thrusts his arm forward, knocking Megatron back slightly. “Don’t you even think of trying to get out of this with that fusion cannon of yours. My missiles fire faster than your stupid little cannon charges.”

He preens at the expression Megatron gives him, a smile tugging at the corners.

He takes a step forward, pushing Megatron back despite their size difference. Starscream’s expression is neigh unreadable to the leader but the few seekers in the room seem to be watching with interest. Wings twitch and helms cock.

“A good leader doesn’t kill off his soldiers just because they’re not trained for a fight.” Starscream’s voice gathers his attention, his movements forcing Megatron to his knees. “We are at war, not fighting in the pits. You may be a gladiator but we are not warriors, you have a many civil mech here and should you wish to eradicate those who were not made to fight you would lose half your army to your own hands and the other half to rebellion.”

The seekers wings twitch, optics watching Megatron’s expression. “Not to mention you have made an attempt on my trine’s sparks, therefore an attempt on my own. Give me one good reason not to-“

“Starscream: would gain nothing from killing Lord Megatron.” Soundwave’s voice sounds from the side, gathering the Winglord’s attention.

“Wrong, I would gain much satisfaction from snuffing his pathetic spark.”

The response is met with silence as Starscream’s optics meet Soundwave’s visor. There’s a moment where Megatron actually believes Soundwave would allow Starscream to continue.

And then the seeker exvents, turning his attention back to their leader. His optics narrow before his other servo moves forward, sharp claws twitching over his chassis. It’s the only warning he gets before his sensors flag pain.

The seekers sharp talon drags along his chassis, purposely digging into the metal. The intent to leave a mark hangs just as open as the fresh wound.

“There, nothing compared to what you let my trine go through but at least if you misbehave again I know where to aim.” Starscream’s voice coos, pulling his missile from Megatron’s intake. “Now enough gawking! Don’t you all have patrols to get to?”

The surrounding mechs, seekers included, scatter and Starscream gives Megatron one last leer before he too leaves the room, thrusters purposefully clicking against the floor.

“Suggestion: do not make Starscream an enemy.”

Megatron doesn’t respond to Soundwave, lifting himself off his knees as he eyes the exit of the room.

He carefully rubs the newly carved mark that sits above his spark chamber.