#she is so unsettling he’s gonna fall so in love with her

[theonottsbxtch]

LOVE - LOCKED | FC43

an: this is based off of this request and i hope you like it bc i had sm fun writing a romantic slightly angsty thing i cant wait to hear what y'all thin, i also think it may be slightly rushed tho so lol ALSO LOL WE'RE GONNA PRETEND CARLOS IS YOUNGER IN THIS BC I NEEDED HER TO BE HIS OLDER SISTER

summary: carlos' sister has lived her life completely separated from him and their family name, instead she went and made a name for herself in the tennis world - she likes her life like that. that is until she meets franco colapinto

wc: 8.7k

The roar of engines, even from a distance, unsettled her.

They reminded her of the long days her father and brother spent in garages, the low rumble of motors and sharp tang of fuel in the air. Those were the hours she’d spend alone, working on her serve in the empty court across town, each hit ricocheting off the walls with a hollow, lonely echo. Her own choice, of course. She’d had no interest in the world of carbon fibre and grease, no desire to be the girl who simply tagged along, her name always in her brother’s shadow.

Now, years later, she’d become someone entirely on her own terms. A name people knew on its own — Vázquez de Castro — a name that meant something outside of her family, outside of her brother’s fame.

She slipped her phone into her bag and looked around the chaotic pit lane. Journalists, engineers, teams in matching shirts, faces alight with anticipation for the weekend's race. She knew she’d stand out here; her face might be familiar, but she was a stranger in this world.

The hum of voices around her faded as she felt his gaze. She’d been hoping to move through unnoticed, just a face in a sea of faces, but there he was: tall, familiar, unmistakably Carlos. His brow furrowed in surprise as he caught sight of her, his quick steps carrying him closer before she had a chance to dodge. She braced herself, turning to him with a calm that she didn’t quite feel.

“No aquí,” she murmured, her voice low, hoping that would be enough to keep curious ears at bay.

He paused, just a moment, his expression softening in understanding, and he tilted his head, his face somewhere between a grin and a frown. “You came.”

It wasn’t an accusation exactly — more surprise than anything. But she couldn’t miss the faint hope in his eyes, as if he thought she might be here to see him, to share a piece of his world after all this time. She let his words linger for a beat before she replied, her tone steady.

“I was invited,” she said, giving a slight shrug, “by Fernando.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the green and silver canopy, keeping her tone casual, but she saw his shoulders fall ever so slightly.

He nodded, glancing away for a moment, his jaw set. “Right. Fernando.”

There was something she wanted to say, something to soften the look in his eyes, but the pit lane was crowded, the eyes and cameras trained on every inch of the paddock sharper than she’d ever expected. They’d notice anything. And the last thing she wanted was for the papers to start spinning stories, putting her under a headline right next to him.

She touched his arm briefly. “Te hablo en el hotel. I’ll speak to you at the hotel.”

As she made her way toward the exit, ready to slip back into the background and disappear, she heard a voice calling out just over the rumble of engines and chatter.

“¡La princesa española!”

The words were unmistakable, lilting and clear, even with the crowd and machinery all around. The Spanish Princess. The nickname made her falter. It was something she sometimes heard on the tennis courts in Madrid or whispered by fans in distant cities when she played in international tournaments. But here? She scanned the area, puzzled at who would recognise her in this world of racing.

When she turned, her eyes met those of someone unfamiliar yet striking. He was tall, with an easy, disarming smile, his race suit gleaming with the bright, bold colours of his team’s livery. He looked young, not much older than she was, but he carried himself with that unmistakable energy she’d seen in rising stars before. The rookie, she realised, though she hadn’t kept up enough to know his name.

He held her gaze a moment too long, that same smile lingering as he approached, his eyes sparking with something between amusement and curiosity. She felt herself tense, almost involuntarily, her instinct telling her to slip away, to avoid whatever came next.

“Es realmente la princesa española,” he said, his tone playful yet certain.

Then it hit her.

Franco.

That was his name.

Franco’s grin widened as he closed the distance between them, his eyes bright with an almost boyish enthusiasm. “Soy un gran admirador de tu trabajo,” he said, his Argentine accent softening his words. “I’ve watched almost all your matches — I love the way you play.”

She blinked, taken aback. This wasn’t the usual kind of recognition she got, especially not here. She could count on one hand how many times she’d been recognised in public. She looked at him, trying to reconcile this confident young driver with the earnest fan in front of her.

“¿Me conoces?” The question slipped out before she could think, her voice tinged with disbelief.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile never faltering. “¿Quién no te conoce?” he replied, with a touch of humour. “La princesa española, queen of the clay court, unstoppable backhand — yeah, I know you.”

There was something genuine in his tone, something that set him apart from the usual strangers who said they knew her. 

And before she could stop herself, she found herself almost smiling. She cleared her throat, searching for a response, but her mind was blank. What could she say? That she knew nothing of him, or any of these people — that she had only set foot here today by chance?

She settled for a simple, “Gracias.”

Franco’s curiosity didn’t waver. He leaned in slightly, folding his arms with an amused glint in his eyes. “So, what brings la princesa española to the F1 paddock?”

She shrugged lightly, careful not to reveal too much. “I’m here as one of Fernando Alonso’s guests. Aston Martin.” She left it at that, hoping he wouldn’t dig further. Noticing that she looked a bit like another driver on the paddock. Thankfully, he didn’t.

His grin only grew wider, and she had the feeling that her mystery intrigued him. “Well then, if you’re one of Fernando’s guests, that means you’re not tied to my team,” he said with a glint of mischief. “Come with me — I’ll give you a tour of my garage. It’ll be like… a private tour.”

She hesitated, her gaze shifting back toward the exit, where she’d planned to slip out and leave all of this behind. If she went with him, there was a chance people would recognise her, start to connect her with her brother’s world. She’d spent her whole career carefully avoiding this — the headlines, the whispers, the inevitable questions about why she’d chosen such a different path. But the look on his face, that open, boyish enthusiasm, was hard to resist.

She let out a sigh, then looked up at him with a sudden, defiant glimmer in her eye. “Screw it. ¿Por qué no?”

His whole face lit up. She could practically see the excitement radiating off him as he extended his hand, his confidence a little too easy, a little too certain. She eyed his hand for a moment before raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“Modales,” she chided, her tone playful. “I’ve known you for five minutes. We’re not dating.”

“Yet,” he replied without missing a beat, a spark in his eyes.

Despite herself, she smiled, a real one, something she hadn’t felt since stepping into the paddock that day.

He led her through the bustling paddock with an easy confidence, weaving between crew members, equipment, and cameras as if none of it could touch him. She was impressed, though she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so. The chaos of the pit lane, the narrow spaces and the clang of metal, all seemed to bend around him.

When they reached his team’s garage, he stopped by a young assistant stationed just outside, who looked at them with curious eyes.

“Do me a favour,” he said, barely containing his grin, “and grab a VIP lanyard for Williams’ guests, will you?”

The assistant glanced at her, his eyes widening slightly in recognition before he nodded and ducked away, returning a moment later with a crisp, team-branded lanyard. Franco took it with a pleased smile, then held out his hand for hers. She unclipped the Aston Martin lanyard from her neck and handed it over, watching with a mix of surprise and amusement as he replaced it with the one from his own team.

“There,” he said, adjusting the lanyard’s position with exaggerated care. “Now you’re officially part of the team.”

She couldn’t hold back her smirk. “You know, I don’t think lanyards change allegiances so easily.”

“Maybe not. But I do think it’s an improvement.” He winked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Besides, the only lanyard you should be wearing here is mine.”

She laughed, caught off guard by his unfiltered charm, as he held out his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “And now, mi princesa, a grand tour.”

He led her into the garage, his tone switching between informative and teasing as he explained the various stations. “Over here, we have the engineering bay — where the magic of data happens.” He gestured toward a row of monitors displaying endless streams of numbers. “And these guys in the corner? They’re the wizards of aerodynamics. Make a mess, they won’t let you forget it.”

As they moved through each section, he offered her a glimpse into the world of F1, his energy and excitement almost contagious. She watched him with quiet intrigue; he seemed to belong here completely, as if he thrived in the chaos and intensity of it all.

“Now, over here,” he continued, leaning a bit closer to her as they approached a sleek wall of tires and tools, “this is where I go for my pre-race pep talks. I think it helps the tires, too.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You talk to the tires?”

“Only on occasion,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “And they listen. Or at least, I hope they do.” He grinned again, that glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Besides, they never talk back.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but there was a smile in it, one she couldn’t quite suppress. He was disarming, funny in a way that felt refreshingly different from the sharp, serious world she’d known. He noticed the hint of a smile and held her gaze, leaning in just slightly.

Before she could say anything else, Franco led her deeper into the garage, weaving through the maze of tools, car parts, and engineers, who looked up now and then with curious glances. She followed, intrigued despite herself, and finally, unable to keep silent, asked, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, shooting her a look over his shoulder that was both charming and infuriatingly vague.

He stopped in front of a nondescript door tucked away from the bustle of the main garage. She glanced around, realising they were in the private part of the team’s area. He opened the door to his driver room, gesturing for her to step inside. The room was small but comfortable, filled with team memorabilia, spare racing gloves, and a neat rack of team-branded clothes. Before she could take it all in, he went over to a stack of neatly folded shirts and pulled one from the pile.

He turned back to her, holding up the shirt with a proud smile. “Here,” he said, offering it to her. “Wear this tomorrow.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and the shirt with mock scepticism. “Bold of you to assume I’d wear your merch.”

His grin only widened. “I think you’d look great in it,” he said, undeterred. “Besides, it’d be an honour to have la princesa española in my colours.”

She took the shirt, running her fingers over the soft fabric, and met his gaze with a slight smirk. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me,” he replied, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, his phone buzzed on the nearby table, and he glanced at it with a slight frown before pocketing it again.

“So,” he continued, his tone shifting to something a little more casual, “what are you doing for dinner?”

The question surprised her. She hadn’t planned on lingering much longer after her brother’s race prep finished. She hadn’t planned on any of this, really. But he was watching her expectantly, and for a moment, she let herself consider it.

“Dinner?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. “You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“Not at all,” he admitted with a grin. “What do you say? Let me take you out. I promise I’m as good at picking places to eat as I am at tours.”

She couldn’t resist a small laugh. “Alright,” she said, glancing up at him with an easy smile. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

He opened his mouth to say something more, but just then, a voice called out from down the hallway. “Franco man, we’ve been looking all around for you!” A team manager appeared in the doorway, looking equal parts exasperated and amused.

Franco sighed, flashing her an apologetic look as he straightened. “Duty calls,” he muttered with a smirk. He lingered a moment, as if reluctant to leave, then glanced back at her with a warm smile.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said, feeling a thrill she hadn’t expected. “See you tonight.”

He nodded, his grin returning full force, then turned to follow the manager out, giving her a final, backward glance that lingered just a second too long.

Back in her hotel room, she brushed a final touch of mascara over her lashes and glanced at her phone, where a text from Franco glowed on the screen.

Franco: “Ready whenever you are. No rush. See you soon :)”

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Tonight felt surprisingly… normal. Like she was just someone getting ready for a date, no stakes attached. She straightened her dress, checked her reflection, and took a steadying breath.

A soft knock at her door snapped her from her thoughts, and she felt a small flutter of excitement, assuming it was him. But when she opened the door, her breath caught.

Her brother stood there, his expression a mixture of confusion and something she couldn’t quite read. She masked her surprise quickly, stepping aside to let him in, though her voice was firm. “I can talk for a bit, but I have plans tonight.”

“With Franco?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, caught off guard. “How did you know?”

He gave a soft, humourless laugh, crossing his arms. “I saw you two in the paddock,” he said. “And I overheard him talking about it in the garage. Apparently, he couldn’t stop telling anyone who’d listen about his ‘date with la princesa de España.’” He looked at her, and his voice softened. “So why is it you have no problem being seen with him, but not with your own brother?”

His question hung heavily in the air, the familiar tension between them settling back into place. She took a breath, struggling for the right words. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be seen with him — it was the weight of everything that came with it. The press, the fans, the inevitable comparisons. She could already see the headlines if they were spotted together, her name placed directly beside his, stripping away the hard-won independence she’d fought for.

She sighed, glancing at him. “It’s not… about you,” she said carefully. “It’s just… everything that comes with it. You know how it is.”

He shook his head, looking slightly hurt. “I don’t know, actually. I’ve always thought we were supposed to be in this together. But I feel like… I don’t know, like you’re just trying to run from anything that connects us.”

She sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her voice dropping to something softer, more serious. “It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with you,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I just don’t want to be known as Carlos’ sister everywhere I go. I’ve worked hard to build my own name, my own career, and sometimes… being around you, it overshadows that.”

Her brother studied her, his face a mix of understanding and something else, a flash of protective instinct. “You know, if you date Franco, you’ll just end up being known as his girlfriend,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “It’s just a date, Carlos. Nothing more.”

He shrugged, his mouth quirking in a small smile. “Yeah, well, with him, nothing ever stays ‘just’ anything. Just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth behind it. “Thanks for the concern, but I’ll be fine.”

They shared a quiet moment of understanding before she gently nudged him toward the door. “Go get some rest. And good luck tomorrow. I’ll be cheering from the sidelines.”

The evening was soft and cool, the sky painted in shades of violet and indigo as the city stretched out below them. The balcony they’d stepped onto was tucked away from the bustling noise of the hotel, private and intimate, offering only the sounds of the night breeze and the occasional far-off hum of the city.

Franco had arranged it all—quiet, serene, away from prying eyes. The dinner was simple but elegant: a few delicate dishes of fresh seafood, wine that wasn’t too heavy, just enough to let the conversation flow freely. It was just the two of them, and she realised as she stood there, her hand brushing the railing, how rare that felt.

She’d worn a dress that was understated, yet elegant—a deep midnight blue that mirrored the evening sky, the fabric light enough to catch the breeze. She hadn’t given it much thought; it wasn’t for anyone but herself. But when Franco first saw her, the look in his eyes told her that, maybe, it had been the right choice after all.

His gaze lifted from the table where he had been adjusting the wine glasses, and the moment he saw her, the words spilled out before he could even stop them.

“Dios mío, qué hermosa estás.” His voice was low, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

She felt her cheeks flush, the compliment unexpected but not unwelcome. She had been nervous about the evening, unsure of what this was or what it would become. But his words, simple and sincere, relaxed something inside her.

“Gracias,” she replied with a small smile, feeling the warmth in her chest spread, her eyes meeting his.

He stood up, taking a small step toward her as if to take in the full picture, his gaze never leaving her face. “I swear,” he continued, his voice filled with genuine awe, “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even more stunning than earlier. It's like... you're glowing.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I think you’re just being kind.”

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head as he closed the distance between them. “I’m not the kind of guy to throw compliments around just to be polite. Te ves increíble, you look incredible.”

After a decent amount of eating, a stretched out silence, Franco spoke up. “So,” he began, his voice casual but warm, “what’s it like to be the la princesa española outside of tennis?”

She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her wine. “I don’t really think of myself as that,” she said lightly. “It’s just a nickname.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “I think it suits you. You have a... regal air about you.” His eyes glinted with mischief as he added, “I’m sure you’d never get away with being late for anything. Everyone would just wait for the princess to show up.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “You really are persistent with those compliments, aren’t you?”

“Solo con la verdad,” he said with a grin, leaning back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself.

The evening unfolded easily after that. They spoke about everything and nothing: about their childhoods, what had brought them to this point in their careers, how it felt to always be in the spotlight. She told him stories from her tennis matches, and he shared wild tales of racing, of the constant pressure and adrenaline.

But it was the quieter moments, the small pauses between their words, that felt the most significant. When he leaned in to pass her the bottle of wine, their hands brushed, and the air seemed to thicken for a moment. His gaze lingered a bit longer than it needed to, and she noticed the subtle way his smile softened when their eyes met. She wasn’t used to this — this ease, this comfort that felt so unforced — but it was exactly what she hadn’t realised she’d been searching for.

“You know,” Franco said, his tone thoughtful, “I can’t remember the last time I had a night like this. Just—” He waved his hand toward the view, the quiet that surrounded them. “It’s nice. To not be rushing off to something. No cameras, no expectations.”

She looked out over the balcony at the skyline, the city lights twinkling in the distance. “I know what you mean. There’s always so much noise, so many people trying to pull you in different directions. It’s rare to just… be.” She turned to look at him, her voice lowering slightly. “It’s a little surreal, actually.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, there was a silence between them that felt like a shared understanding. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looked at her, his expression genuine. “I’m glad you’re here with me tonight. I’m glad I got to spend this time with you.”

Her heart did a little flip at the sincerity in his voice. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from the evening, but this — this felt right.

“So,” he continued, his voice lightening again, “any chance I can convince you to wear my team’s shirt tomorrow?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he said with a wink, “but only because I know you’d look amazing in it.”

She rolled her eyes but could feel the warmth in her chest spread. “I’ll think about it,” she teased, mirroring his playful tone.

The conversation drifted back to lighter topics, the evening unfolding with ease as the world seemed to blur around them. As the night deepened, they shared stories, laughter, and quiet glances that spoke volumes. It wasn’t the fireworks, the grand gestures of a first date. But it was something else — something that felt like a beginning.

When the last of the wine was finished, and the candles flickered low, Franco stood, offering her a hand to help her to her feet. He didn’t say anything at first, but his eyes told her everything. His fingers brushed against hers, and she didn’t pull away.

As the night grew later, the air around them cooled, and they moved to the edge of the balcony, gazing out over the city. The quiet was comforting, the soft hum of distant traffic the only sound breaking the stillness between them.

She let out a small sigh, her mind wandering, and with it, the weight of everything that had brought her to this moment. She looked up at him, caught in the calm but uncertain about what this night might mean.

"Well, this has been lovely," she said, her voice light but tinged with something else. "But, just so you know… this is probably going to be our only date."

His eyebrows furrowed, his smile faltering for just a fraction of a second. “Why?” he asked, his tone suddenly laced with concern. “Have I done something wrong?”

She met his gaze, her chest tight for reasons she couldn’t quite place. There was no logical reason for her to feel that way — he had been nothing but kind, charming, and genuine all night. But there was still that lingering sense of hesitation, a wall she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to tear down.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head as if to reassure him. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

He looked at her for a long moment, studying her face. The playful glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something softer, something quieter, as if he were trying to understand her better.

“I’m not really a person who runs from things," she said, her voice lowering slightly, unsure how to put her thoughts into words. “But there are parts of my life I’m... careful about. I can’t help but keep them to myself.”

She hesitated, feeling a strange tug in her chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, she found herself wanting to share something personal, something she had hidden away. She took a breath and let it slip out before she could second-guess herself.

“I have a brother,” she began, looking out at the city below them, trying to steady her voice. “He’s a Formula 1 driver.”

Franco froze, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Wait... what?”

She glanced at him, a slight laugh escaping her lips at the look of genuine surprise on his face. “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “Carlos.”

He blinked, his surprise turning into a quiet sense of disbelief. “Carlos Sainz?” He repeated her brother’s name, almost as if he were trying to process it. “I had no idea…”

She looked at him, a slight sadness settling in her chest. “Most people don’t,” she said, her voice quiet now. “I never tell anyone. I’ve worked my entire life to be known for me—for what I do, not because of who I’m related to. I don’t want to live in someone’s shadow.”

Franco didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence stretch out between them. He was thinking, she could tell. It was as though he were weighing her words, weighing the tension in her tone. Then, slowly, he spoke, his voice steady but sincere.

“With me, you wouldn't,” he said, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that took her by surprise. “You wouldn’t be in anyone’s shadow. Not if you didn’t want to be.”

She was quiet for a long moment, his words sinking in. Part of her wanted to dismiss it, wanted to keep pushing away the idea of anyone in her life stepping into that shadow. But there was something in his eyes—something honest and unwavering—that made her hesitate. He wasn’t offering her fame or status. He was offering her something far simpler. The space to be herself.

Then, he said something that made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ll be your WAG,” he said, his voice surprisingly matter-of-fact, his smile just a little crooked.

She laughed, a quick, startled sound. “What?” she teased, shaking her head. “Are you serious? ‘WAG’—really?”

He leaned in slightly, the smile still on his face but his eyes unflinching. “En serio. I’m serious.” he added with a little more emphasis, the words flowing naturally from him.

Her laughter died down, replaced by a brief, curious silence. She was still processing his words, still trying to understand how it had escalated from a simple dinner to this.

“You’re joking,” she said softly, unsure whether to laugh or take him seriously.

“No,” he7 replied, his voice now calm, almost earnest. “I’m not. Look, I get it. The whole ‘WAG’ thing... it sounds ridiculous, I know. But the way I see it, we’d be a team. You’d have my back, and I’d have yours. No shadows, no expectations, just us. What we make of it.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms as she considered what he was saying. The idea of it felt foreign, a little intimidating, but something about it also felt right in a way she hadn’t expected. No grand gestures, no drama. Just… us, as he’d said.

“Don’t you think I’d look good in a sponsored Channel crop top?” he joked, and the thought of it made her laugh.

Before she could stop it, however, her mind flashed to her brother, to the years of keeping her life private, to the way she had fought so hard to remain in the background of her family’s legacy. And yet here was Franco, offering something different. He wasn’t asking her to be a part of his world—he was offering her a partnership, an equal footing.

For the first time that evening, she allowed herself to truly think about what that might mean. To be seen, not as someone’s sister or someone’s girlfriend, but just as herself.

“Maybe... maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” she said quietly, her voice uncertain but filled with a growing sense of possibility.

Franco looked at her, a quiet confidence in his eyes. “Entonces, we’ll figure it out together. No shadows. Just us.”

“Just us.”

“You better wear my shirt tomorrow,” he said, his voice teasing but hopeful.

She smirked, folding her arms across her chest as she looked at him. “I’ll think about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “You better. I’ll be watching.”

She laughed, shaking her head at his persistence. “We’ll see.”

The next morning arrived with the usual rush, the anticipation of race day filling the air. She woke up to a sunlit room and a few messages on her phone, the familiar bustle of the paddock already beginning to take shape outside her window. As she moved around the room, preparing for the day ahead, her mind wandered back to the previous evening.

She stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair back into a sleek ponytail, glancing over her outfit choices. She’d packed a nice pair of fitted trousers and a smart blouse for the day. But then, as she opened her suitcase to grab something, she saw it—the shirt.

It was sitting on top of her suitcase, folded neatly, the soft fabric of his team’s shirt catching the light. The sight of it made her pause. She could feel a flutter of uncertainty in her chest as she stared at the shirt. It wasn’t like her to let herself be swayed by someone else’s request. But something about Franco, about the way he’d looked at her, made her reconsider.

She bit her lip, considering her options. The shirt was casual, simple, but it also felt like a statement. She could wear it for him, just this once, maybe just to see how it felt. There was no harm in that, right?

She grabbed the shirt, examining it for a moment. It was an understated design—his team’s logo in the corner, a soft fabric, nothing too flashy. It wasn’t the sort of thing she would normally wear, but for some reason, she felt drawn to it. And then it hit her—maybe it wasn’t about the shirt at all. It was about the confidence to wear it, to stand beside him and let the world see her as she was, without hesitation.

She had a moment of inspiration.

Instead of simply slipping it on with jeans like she’d imagined, she decided to give it a bit of a twist. She styled it with an oversized blazer, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off the shirt underneath, and a pair of high-waisted pants. The look was effortlessly cool, edgy, but still very much her. She paired it with a pair of sleek, minimalist sneakers, and, just before she finished, added a bold red lip to complete the ensemble.

When she looked in the mirror, she felt a sense of pride. It was a simple shirt, yes, but it was her way of wearing it. And somehow, it made her feel like she was making her own mark, not hiding behind anyone else’s expectations.

She grabbed her phone, checking the time, then sent Franco a quick message.

“I thought about it. I’ll wear the shirt. But only because it goes with my outfit.”

She added a playful winking emoji before hitting send, knowing that he’d appreciate the humour in it.

The morning was just beginning to pick up its pace as she finished getting ready. The weight of the day’s events, the race, the energy of the paddock, all began to settle in. But for the first time in a while, she felt a small sense of excitement, an eagerness she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t about the race itself, but about the people she was meeting, the connections she was making, and—perhaps most unexpectedly—what might lie ahead with Franco.

She was just about to head out of her hotel room when there was a knock on the door. She knew that knock—steady and familiar. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find her brother standing there, his usual calm exterior softened by a quiet intensity in his gaze.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, stepping back to let him in. She could tell he was a bit surprised when he saw the shirt she was wearing—the shirt of a rival team. He glanced at it, one brow raised slightly, but he didn’t comment, just closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall.

He took a deep breath, as if he’d been building up to this. “Are you… thinking of seeing him again?”

There was something tentative in the way he asked, a kind of brotherly concern that she hadn’t seen in a long time. She shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. “Maybe. I’m considering it.”

He nodded slowly, looking away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, “Why are you okay with being seen with him, and not with me?”

The question landed heavily between them, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to answer. She looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his expression, the unspoken hurt in his eyes. It was rare for him to open up like this, to say exactly what was on his mind. She let out a long breath, searching for the right words.

“It’s different,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Different how?” he pressed, his tone gentle but persistent.

She met his gaze, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She hadn’t realised just how much this division had affected them both, how much it lingered in moments like these. “I never felt like I was a part of your world,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “It wasn’t just about you. It was Dad, too. He… he made it clear that I wasn’t cut out to be a part of it. I wasn’t… enough. Not like you.”

He looked at her, the quiet hurt in his eyes turning into something deeper, something sadder. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “How could you? You were busy making him proud. And you were great at it. I always saw how he looked at you, how proud he was of everything you were doing. He saw you as this… continuation of him, of his legacy. But me… I was never part of that.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he processed her words. “I never wanted it to be that way. I thought you just didn’t care about what we were doing. I thought you were happy doing your own thing.”

“I am,” she said, and she meant it. “Tennis is my world; it’s where I feel strong, where I feel like I belong. But… it didn’t come without sacrifices. I grew up watching you and Dad bond over racing, and it was like there was this door between us that was shut for good. I could watch, but I couldn’t be a part of it.”

There was a long pause, her brother absorbing her words, the weight of years of misunderstanding settling between them.

“I wish I’d known,” he said finally, his voice soft, tinged with regret. “I thought… I thought you didn’t want to be a part of it. I thought it didn’t matter to you if Dad and I had that bond. But I get it now. I see what it must’ve felt like, standing on the outside.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken years filling the space between them. And then he added, “You know, you don’t have to keep yourself hidden to be in my life, right? I get it now. But it doesn’t have to be like that.”

Her throat tightened, a wave of unexpected emotion rising within her. She’d spent so long feeling like an outsider in her own family, so sure that her brother had never noticed. But now, here he was, standing in front of her, wanting to bridge that gap.

“It’s hard to just undo it all,” she admitted. “Sometimes, it feels easier to just… stay on my own path. To keep these things separate.”

He nodded, understanding. “But if you’re thinking of seeing Franco… letting yourself be part of his world… doesn’t it mean you’re ready to be seen? To be yourself, even in places that are unfamiliar?”

She considered this, his words striking a chord deep within her. He wasn’t wrong. She’d spent so long hiding parts of herself, keeping herself separate to avoid comparison or judgement. But with Franco, she hadn’t felt the same need. For once, she had felt like she could be herself—no shadows, no expectations.

“I think… I just want to find something that’s mine,” she said finally. “A space where I’m not just ‘your sister,’ where I don’t have to carry someone else’s legacy.”

Her brother gave her a soft, understanding look. “You’ve already done that. You are more than just my sister. You’ve made a name for yourself that has nothing to do with anyone else. You’re not living in anyone’s shadow… but if you ever want to step into our world—my world—I’d like to be part of yours too. Just… let me be there for you, even if it’s only sometimes.”

She nodded, feeling a sense of warmth, a sense of connection that hadn’t been there before. Maybe there was room for both worlds, after all. For the first time, she felt like she didn’t have to choose.

“I’ll think about it,” she said softly, echoing her words from last night.

He smiled, a hint of relief in his eyes. “I hope you do.”

With that, he gave her a quick, reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, a wordless acknowledgment of the unspoken bond they shared. And as he left, she felt a sense of closure, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to keep running from her family’s legacy to be seen as her own person. She could walk her own path, even if it sometimes crossed into theirs.

She arrived at the paddock a little while later, weaving her way through the bustle of race day, her heart beating a little faster than usual. Wearing Franco’s shirt under her blazer felt like a small, bold choice—one that had her both excited and slightly nervous. She walked through the crowd until she reached his team’s garage, where the energy was already crackling with anticipation.

As soon as she stepped in, Franco spotted her from across the garage. His face lit up the second he saw her, and he immediately started making his way toward her. When he was close enough, he lowered his voice and said in Spanish, a playful gleam in his eyes, “Wait here for just a second. Don’t move.”

Before she could respond, he turned and jogged back toward his driver’s room, leaving her standing in the middle of the garage, a little bewildered but smiling to herself. She watched as he disappeared into the room, curious about whatever he was planning. Within a moment, he was back, holding a bouquet of flowers—a mix of deep red roses and bright sunflowers, their colours vivid against the greys and metallics of the garage.

“For you,” he said, handing them over with a grin, his accent warm and lilting. His eyes softened as he added, “To celebrate your first race day as my guest.”

She took the bouquet, feeling a rush of warmth as she held the flowers. “You know, you didn’t have to do this,” she said, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just here as… well, just as me.”

“And I think that’s worth celebrating,” he replied smoothly, his gaze locked on hers with unmistakable admiration. “Besides, you didn’t say no to the shirt, so I think I’m allowed a little celebration, no?”

She laughed, her cheeks warming as she looked down at the bouquet. “Alright, fine. You win. Thank you—they’re beautiful.”

Franco glanced around the garage, then leaned in slightly, dropping his voice to a playful murmur. “You know, you’re even more beautiful than I remember from last night. I thought maybe I was exaggerating, but… no. I wasn’t.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “Careful, or I’ll start to think you’re trying to distract me from the race.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, chuckling. Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, he looked around the garage again and spotted one of his engineers nearby. Franco gestured to the man, who quickly nodded, understanding exactly what Franco was after.

The engineer handed him a headset, and Franco turned back to her, holding it up. “Here—so you can listen in and watch from inside the garage. You’ll get the best seat here.”

She blinked, surprised by the gesture. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You’ll get to hear all the comms, see how it all works up close. Plus”—he leaned in, his voice low—“you’ll have an excuse to stay around here.”

She shook her head with a smirk, taking the headset from him. “Alright. But only because you’ve convinced me with flowers and shameless flattery.”

“Good,” he replied, his grin widening as he watched her settle the headset over her ears. “I’ll keep it coming if it means you stay.”

As the team began their pre-race preparations, Franco showed her the best spot to watch from, and he took a few moments to explain some of the technical details. She found herself captivated, not just by the race, but by the way he was so eager to share his world with her. His enthusiasm was infectious, and despite herself, she felt the thrill of race day in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Before he had to step away to start his own warm-up routine, he gave her one last look, his gaze holding a touch of that familiar mischievous glint. “Enjoy the show, princesa. And don’t go falling in love with the cars now—they’re not as charming as I am.”

She laughed, giving him a playful shove. “No promises.”

Franco winked, backing away with a grin as he joined the other drivers and team members preparing for the race. She stayed in the garage, feeling the weight of the headset and bouquet in her hands, both of them symbols of the way her world had shifted in just a few days.

As she watched him walk away, his words echoing in her ears, she realised just how different today felt. For the first time, she wasn’t just watching as an outsider; she was here, part of the energy, sharing a moment in his world, just as he’d promised. And maybe—just maybe—she was finally ready to be a part of something new.

The race was intense, the roar of engines filling the air as she watched Franco’s car weave through the track, making his way up from P16 to P12, gaining positions one by one with determined precision. Her heart raced with every turn, every overtake. She’d never felt the thrill of Formula One from this close before, and she found herself completely absorbed, balancing her attention between the live race and the screens in the garage that tracked every driver’s progress.

And then, in the final laps, her eyes moved to another part of the screen—a familiar car that was in the lead. A red car. Her brother was out front, defending his position with expert skill, pushing with everything he had toward the finish line. She held her breath, fingers tightening around the edges of the headset as she watched the seconds count down. When he crossed the finish line in first place, a feeling she hadn’t expected washed over her—pride, pure and radiant, filled her chest. She found herself clapping, cheering, a bright smile spreading across her face.

Franco, having just finished his own race and done the mandatory weigh-in and debrief with his engineers, finally found her in the garage. He looked exhausted but happy, his face still flushed from the adrenaline of the race. When he walked over, he paused, noticing the way her eyes were glued to the screen as her brother celebrated his victory, lifting his fists in the air in triumph.

“You’re glowing,” Franco murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her reaction.

She blinked, glancing back at him and realising how giddy she must look. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would feel like this. I’m just… so happy for him.” Her voice was breathless, filled with a genuine joy she couldn’t hide.

He chuckled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “Then you should go to him. He’s probably waiting for you.”

She shook her head, hesitating, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “No, I couldn’t. I don’t… I don’t belong over there, with everyone. That’s his world.”

Franco tilted his head, giving her a knowing look. “Maybe that’s true most days. But today, you belong there just as much as anyone else. He’s your brother. Go celebrate with him. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

She bit her lip, uncertainty still holding her back. “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Start with congratulations,” Franco said, flashing her a gentle, reassuring grin. “Trust me, it’ll be enough.”

He gestured toward the edge of the garage, where the barriers separated the track from the paddock. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, taking a shaky breath as he guided her forward. The crowd around them was roaring with excitement as her brother’s car was pulled into parc fermé, fans and teammates celebrating around him. She could feel her heart pounding, each step filling her with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

At the barrier, Franco gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Go on. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

With that, he released her hand, and she took a step forward, catching sight of her brother through the haze of people and cameras. He was laughing, practically glowing as he embraced his team, still basking in the thrill of his victory. And then, as if sensing her, he turned and saw her standing there, just beyond the barrier.

His expression softened, and a smile broke across his face, one that was filled with surprise and unmistakable happiness. Without a moment’s hesitation, he made his way over, reaching out to pull her into a tight, heartfelt hug. She hugged him back, feeling the last remnants of the old distance between them dissolve as she held her brother close, finally sharing in his moment.

When they pulled apart, he looked at her, pride shining in his eyes. “You came,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet gratitude. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

She laughed softly, tears threatening to sting her eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed it. I’m so proud of you.”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick, brotherly kiss to her forehead. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’re here. Really.”

As the team around them cheered and the cameras continued to flash, she felt the enormity of the moment—a sense of belonging, not just as a tennis player, or his sister, but as herself.

She grinned at her brother, reaching up to ruffle his hair in a rare show of sibling affection. “Te quiero mucho, hermanito,” she said, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

His smile softened, and he looked at her with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Te quiero también,” he replied, wrapping her in one last quick hug. “Thank you for being here. Really.”

The moment was brief but profound, a quiet reassurance that, despite the different worlds they had each chosen, they were still connected. He glanced back toward his team, who were waving him over for post-race celebrations and interviews.

“I have to go,” he said, releasing her. “But I’ll see you later?”

“Of course,” she replied, giving him a nod and a small wave as he returned to his crew. She watched him for a moment longer, feeling a sense of pride she hadn’t felt in years—one that was entirely unclouded by the complexities of the past. Then she turned and made her way back toward Franco’s garage, her heart still racing from the intense energy of the day.

When she found him, Franco was waiting near the garage entrance, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a proud smile lighting up his face as he saw her approach.

“You did it,” he said softly, admiration in his eyes. “You finally let yourself be a part of all this.”

As she reached Franco, he turned to face her, his expression softening with a mixture of pride and relief as he took her hands in his. Her heart pounded, the intensity of the day lingering between them like a magnetic pull. She gazed up at him, her breath catching as she saw the warmth in his eyes—the genuine care and admiration there, as if he saw every part of her that she had worked so hard to keep separate.

Without a word, she stepped closer, her hand moving up to rest gently against his cheek. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze searching hers, as if waiting for her to close the last small gap between them. Finally, she leaned up, closing her eyes as her lips met his in a slow, lingering kiss.

The world around them seemed to dissolve, the roar of the crowd and bustle of the paddock fading as the kiss deepened. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, his touch both steady and tender. She felt the warmth of him seep into her, grounding her in the moment, and she responded instinctively, fingers threading through his hair as he held her tighter. There was a gentleness in his touch, but an undeniable passion too, a desire that built slowly between them.

Time slipped away as they shared this unguarded moment, the boundaries she had set for herself crumbling with every heartbeat. She could feel the strength in his arms, the quiet reassurance he offered, and a warmth that sparked through her, as if he was silently promising that he would be there, no matter what.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing a little harder, their foreheads touching as they lingered close, unwilling to step away. Franco’s thumb traced a gentle line along her jaw as he looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with an affection so deep that it nearly overwhelmed her. “I needed that push,” she murmured against his lips.

His arms came around her, but he laughed as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Come on,” he said with a teasing glint, “the cameras have probably caught enough kissing for one day.”

She chuckled, letting him lead her back toward the quiet of his garage, away from the noise and eyes of the crowd. For the first time, she felt an undeniable sense of belonging—not just to the world she had worked so hard to create for herself, but to this moment, with him, with her family. She’d finally allowed herself to be part of it all, and it felt right in a way she hadn’t expected.

the end.

[loved-reid]

You’re Cute…Yet Irritating [s.r]

Post prison!Spencer Reid x sunshine!fem!reader

Summary: She’s always humming a tune, dancing, or tapping her fingers. And Spencer can’t stand it.

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, irritated Spencer, crying, self doubt, rude comments, self hatred, etc.

Note: I always fidget and I thought this would be cute! Let me know what y’all think!!

Sorry for any errors! I didn’t re-read it! :)

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

2,745 times

And yes, he was unfortunately counting.

He bet she didn’t even know she was doing it, the repetitive rhythm of her finger nails on the desk. Files piled it, almost all the time, and Spencer always had to walk by with his fist in his mouth to prevent himself from organizing it the way he liked.

He was going to be honest, he kind of missed having that feeling, the urge to clean or organize. It told him, in a way, that his old self was still with him, and that little thing gave him hope that he so tightly held onto.

But his old self was able to focus. His old self was able to dig himself into file folders and never be able to leave, yet the tapping.

Spencer couldn’t take it.

His eye twitched every time she breathed particularly loud, his lips pursed when her foot started tapping on the floor, and, worst of all, his head shuttered when her dang finger nails tapped on the desk’s top.

He hated the noise.

And it surprised him that he did, it was such a little thing that was apparently going unnoticed by everyone else. But he just couldn’t focus on his work with the practical racket that was doing on next to him.

He wasn’t gonna lie, he almost got up just then to go ask Hotch for a desk rearrangement. But he knew that his boss would suspect something and either tease him about it or shake his head about how ridiculous it was.

Spencer agreed as well. He couldn’t change seats just because the woman next to him was tapping her fingers.

Gosh, even thinking it sounded absurd.

But he couldn’t help but imagine silence.

Silence while his brain could process things.

Spencer could’ve lost it when she started humming a soft tune. She seemed to have a new one in her head every day, each time she sat down, tea in hand, she hummed a different song than yesterday.

He couldn’t quite pin point which one it was, but he didn’t dare to continue thinking to figure it out.

His head turned toward her, hoping she’d notice his glare but she didn’t, she’s still stuck on the file she was looking at.

“Quit that, will ya?”

Her head snapped up at the sudden outburst, surprise reflecting in her eyes yet he spotted confusion.

How was she confused to the constant annoying tapping she was doing? And the humming? Spencer was slowly loosing his mind.

He took a deep breath to prevent from lashing out, his hand coming out and wiggling his fingers toward hers.

“T-the tapping, it’s irritating. Quit it please.”

Her face dropped from surprised to hurt, and Spencer somehow hated that it was quiet as soon as he said something.

“Right. Sorry,” she whispered so softly Spencer almost couldn’t hear her. She tried to add a little chuckle at the end of her murmur, yet her voice cracked against her own accord.

He watched her fingers stop, instead clenching them in a fist tightly.

Spencer should’ve been glad that the silence he so wanted was granted, but something unsettling brewed in his chest at her facial expression, her now glossy eyes staring at her computer screen. He also noticed her other hand that wasn’t holding the folder was digging into her thigh to prevent it from bouncing out of anxiety.

He didn’t know the feeling, regret, maybe, but all Spencer knew was that he wished he hadn’t said those words.

But he didn’t want to say sorry, something inside him prevented him from doing it. Maybe he was selfish because he ignored the regret in him and took the opportunity to have the ability to focus once more.

“I can’t help, falling in love with you,” she hummed softly, just under her breath as she stirred her favorite tea in the mug the next morning.

Spencer had to admit, he missed her singing in the morning. It reminded him that through all the terrible cases they’ve experienced, there was still happiness in the world, still hope, and she clearly found it through music.

But the pounding headache that didn’t go away that day prevented him from being kind.

So he couldn’t dare to show his wishes of her singing more often, heck no. And the more he thought about it the more irritating it became. He became hyper focused on the breath before each sentence she sang, the cinnamon toothpaste blaring his nose. She was also slightly off pitch every couple seconds, and she sang a couple words wrong.

It got worse when she took forever to mix her tea, blocking his path towards the coffee machine.

He huffed, ignoring the way she flinched. “Move, will ya? There’s people who actually want to do their job and not sing songs about sunshine and rainbows; just please let me get some coffee.”

Her once upwards lips turned down, the light in her eyes going out. She cleared her throat. “Right, s-sorry.”

Spencer couldn’t help it. The comment spat out before he could control it. “S-sorry,” he mimicked. “You do know confidence is a key to this job, right? Quit the childish stuttering it’s infuriating.”

He didn’t see her reaction, but if he did he would see glossy eyes and a facial expression that represented a shattered heart.

She raced out of the room, tea discarded on the counter and beelined towards the bathrooms. She quickly fumbled with the lock. It echoed throughout the bathroom, somehow making her emotions worsen. The tears went full force, a sob covered by her hands surrounding her.

His words kept repeating themselves in her head, telling her that she wasn’t good enough for the job.

Why even apply? He was clearly smarter than her and took things more seriously. What was she thinking? Coming into a field like this and humming and singing all the time? Who does that?

She could feel her makeup smearing, and her black fingers rubbing her cheeks confirmed her suspicions.

She never knew Spencer’s problem with her. Every moment she recalled every encounter, hoping not to come across a moment where she offended him. And she never did.

But now she knew. It was her humming, her tapping, her singing, her stuttering.

She wasn’t good enough to be here.

The thought made her cry harder, the type of sob where your breath catches in your throat, your vision blurry as your chest aches.

A soft knock on the stall door made her both flinch hardly and gasp at the same time.

A throat was cleared, an awkward moment of silence shoving its way between them.

“Can I come in?”

The voice on the other side wasn’t one she expected. Her heart started going on its own path, thumping quickly within her chest.

Her hand moved on its own accord, though hesitantly, and opened the lock.

Spencer’s hand came into view, opening the door and entering himself, closing and locking the door behind him.

Something about him being so close, the door locked, and them being in a place just for one person made her already beating heart pound harder.

His features, no doubt, were beautiful. His nose was like a button, eyes like chocolate in fresh cookies, lips soft and full like a blooming flower.

His hair, oh his hair. It was like a soft blanket she wanted to nestle her fingers onto, pulling at the roots until he let out a satisfying noise-

No.

He hurt her. The words he said. She was upset. He doesn’t like her.

Then why was he having such an effect on her?

Him clearing his throat once more caught her out of her thoughts, eyes meeting his.

“I wanted to say sorry. For what I said,” he whispered, and she noticed his fingers playing with each other. “It wasn’t nice nor professional. And I don’t mean any of it.”

His apology was simple and sincere, eyes somehow widening while gazing at her. (Or were his eyes always like that? Full and desperate?)

“And in case you were wondering, you’re lovely at your job,” he sounded like he was rambling again, but he also seemed desperate to get the words out. “Your singing brings happiness to the place. You’re more than good enough to be here. And I’m sorry I made you doubt your amazing abilities.”

She felt a soft smile come to her lips, cheeks reddening at his complements. She wiped her nose. “Really?”

He nodded, leaning down and grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her cheeks.

Instead of simply giving it to her, he wiped them himself, wiping the damage he did to her away on his own. “I mean it with my whole heart.”

Her heart warmed.

“Thank you Spencer,” she whispered shyly.

He gave her a toothless smile, opening his arms for a hug from her.

Her heart pounded, knowing he barely let anyone touch him, but stepped towards him nonetheless.

Her arms went underneath his blazer, on top of his dress shirt (causing him to shiver) and laying her head on his chest.

He embraced her back, far too tall to be over her shoulder so he rested his chin on her head, shampoo filling his nose.

They stayed like that for a couple moments before pulling back to look at each other.

His eyes met hers, emotions swirling around, like they were trying to tell him something.

If it was a warning or an invitation Spencer didn’t know, but he leaned forward to find out, nose brushing hers.

Her lips parted, causing his eyes to shoot downward at the movement.

He gave her a moment to push away, to shove him out of the stall for even thinking she had any interest on him.

The rejection never came.

He finally planted his mouth on hers, her hands shooting to his hair to pull at his roots, a small groan leaving his lips.

His lips tasted like coffee and something truly Spencer.

Whatever it was pulled her in more, craving the taste of his mouth.

They finally pulled away, breath fanning each other’s faces. She was the one who laughed first against his lips, and he copied her before kissing her once again.

Sure, she was irritating at times, but she was cute, he’d give her that.

[razorblade180-heated]

Trade Offer

Nora:Jaune, honest answer. Would you ever let someone try pegging or back door stuff?

Jaune:*mid burger bite*…..Never a dull moment with you.

Nora:Well?

Jaune:Siiiiiiiiiiggggghhhh….

Yang:I felt that in my soul.

Jaune:If the love of my life genuinely had a deep desire to try it, then I would be willing to attempt it.

Nora:That’s a lot of terms and conditions.

Yang:Being in love is a lot!? I’m with him on this one.

Jaune:I don’t have a desire to explore that, so yeah. They have to be passionate about it and the love of my life.

Nora:So begging would get me nowhere.

Jaune:Hey, so this is sounding less like a curious question and that’s unsettling.

Nora:…*drops to knees* It could be a bonding experience. Think about it, you know I care about your well being.

Yang:As Jaune’s personal wingman and keeper of his sanity, I’m gonna need you to stand up miss.

Nora:If you’re his wingman then will you take the bullet?

Yang:No!

Jaune:Wouldn’t that just be anal at that point? *rubs chin* Wait, is it just called pegging for dudes?

Yang:That’s what you’re hung up about?

Nora:*pouting* So no dice? Man, I already have everything I needed to.

Jaune:So this was never just a question!?

Blake:*walks in* Hey guys. Why does Jaune look like he’s in another crisis?

Yang:Nora tried asking if she could pegg him.

Blake:….*turns around*…..*turns back around* Alright, I’m ready for this conversation. What!?

Nora:I just think it would be really cool if I got to use my new items in a safe and trusting environment with an amazing friend!

Blake:I think I get why Weiss said we all can’t be trusted with credit cards. Way to be prepared though. I admire wishful thinking.

Nora:Yang won’t help me either.

Yang:Don’t call it “help” when it’s so much more. Leave my butt out of this.

Nora:It might make it bigger?

Jaune:Pfft!

Yang:*looks at him*

Jaune:Nora, that wasn’t funny.

Nora:Yall suck. I’m serious about this.

Blake:…Fuck it, I’ll do it.

JYN:Huh…?

Blake:What? I got nothing to lose. If you want to explore that badly then I guess I’ll step in. Just give me a week to prep.

Nora:Seriously!? Okay! Th-

Blake:On one condition. I get a turn. *holds hand out* Deal?

Nora:*red* W-What?

Jaune:And there it is.

Yang:You thought you were about to out freak a hidden freak? There’s always a price to pay.

Jaune:Be careful. Deals like this are dangerous.

Blake:You two are making me sound like a conman. Nora is curious; so am I. If she really wants to try then this is a no brainer.

Nora:…*slowly grabs hand*

Blake:Shake it.

Nora does, only for Blake to pull her in close and whisper something that turns the girl bright red before releasing her. Blake casually goes on about her day.

Blake:See ya in seven days.

Nora:…

Jaune:What did she say?

Nora:… “Good girl.”

Yang:Oh you’re fucked, literally. Blake is braver and bolder than us all!

Nora:*walking away* I’m going to come up with a battle plan. Bye guys.

Jaune:Man, I can’t believe Nora dies in seven days.

Yang:Out of curiosity, if there was a person who could convince you-

Jaune:Velvet.

Yang:Absolutely fair.

Jaune:You?

Yang:Nobody. It’s weird.

Jaune:In theory, my semblance would ease any discomfort.

Yang:…*red* And?! That changes nothing!

Jaune:I was just saying.

Yang:You were being sneaky! I’m not falling for it. This conversation is over. You’re safe, I’m safe. We can both be safe. You lost a teammate but that’s alright. No need to even things out!

Jaune:Relax! It was a random thought. *continues eating*

Yang:…Would my butt get bigger?

Jaune:This could not be your motivation.

Yang:Listen! I have dreams too!

Jaune:Your demons are winning.

[leighsartworks216]

Birdcage

Sylus x gn!Reader

Sequel to My Pretty Bird

Fucking love Mephisto!Reader so much I love being a silly little bird in the arms of a big ol man

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, swearing, smoking, rescue

Word Count: 1,234

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

You squawk and screech and make all sorts of sounds. Your wings beat relentlessly against steel bars, padlocked firmly shut. A man hits the cage with the butt of his gun. It swings back and forth, knocking you off balance.

"And why can we just shoot this damn thing?" the man asks. He glares at you. You stare right back, cawing indignantly in his face. He hits the cage again. "It's so fucking annoying!"

Another man in the room laughs. Smoke sifts through his teeth, drifting lazily through the air. "Don't tell me you're gonna let a bird get under your skin."

The first man covers your cage with a heavy cloth. It doesn't do much to quiet you and you beat more defiantly against the bars, but at least he doesn't have to look at you.

"Crows are smart birds, you know. You give them an inch, they'll take a mile," the smoker says. "It probably likes annoying you cuz you're making such a fuss."

"It doesn't annoy you?"

"Hmph. I have three sisters - I'm used to it."

The dark doesn't mean much when you have night vision, but night vision doesn't mean much when there's nothing to look at. Everywhere you turn: bars and nothing beyond. And there's nothing you can do on your own to get out of it. Code-based locks are easy enough to break, but a key-lock? You're shit out of luck. Still, you peck at it restlessly, without thought of if it would work or not.

You sent out the beacon a while ago. Sylus still isn't here. Unsurprising, given he was all the way in Linkon and you're halfway across the N109 Zone in some other fool's territory (intel-hunting, as it were). From what you gather, they have no idea who you belong to. The idea that the leader of Onychinus could come here is an utter impossibility in their minds. You just hope he'll be here soon.

You hear the click of a door opening and heavy boots entering the room. "I didn't even need to ask for directions," a new voice jokes, "I could hear it all the way in my lab."

Lab?

"Thank fuck you're here, doc. It's giving me a headache. Can't you shut it up?"

"Without damaging it," the smoker reminds them. "The boss wants to know how it's built."

The new person laughs. You try clawing through the bars at the cloth, with no luck. That voice, that laugh - it unsettles you.

"If what you described is true, I'd hate to damage it." The heavy boots walk closer. "Can I...?"

The first man hmphs. "Go ahead, doc, I won't stop ya."

The cloth is removed without ceremony. A face stares at you through the bars. A gaunt woman with an unsettlingly wide smile, eyes obscured by thick goggles. She gasps in pleasant surprise as she sees you.

You scream in her face, flap futilely in your little cage to try getting away. It's the only thought you have - you have to get away.

She chuckles lowly. "You're still as spirited as ever, I see."

The jagged, jolting sound of electricity registers milliseconds before it touches the cage. It travels through the path of least resistance: from the taser she holds, through the steel bars of the cage, and into you. The best way to describe the sensation is like waking up from anesthesia, except the "waking up" comes from your synthetic heart and mind being temporarily stopped. Your wings feel numb and uncoordinated. You can't stand, falling weakly to the cage floor. Your eyes see, but nothing processes.

She hums, satisfied. "Where did you say you found it?" she asks the men.

The smoker is the one to answer. The first man is too busy staring with gleaming eyes at your new silence. "It was slinking around the market. Don't know what for yet."

"Probably just looking for something shiny to bring back home." She pokes your body through the bars. You jolt away, tripping over your own feet in the process, feathers on end. "Isn't that right? Where do you consider home now, I wonder."

"Doctor?" the smoker interrupts. "Have you met it before?"

She giggles, louder as you manage to make a pitiful sort of sound. "I was there when they created it. I even helped out here and there. It's a remarkable piece of technology, but it's incredibly difficult - if not impossible - to reproduce."

"It's a machine, right? Can't you just wipe its memory, like a computer?" the first man asks.

"I'd hate to erase so much valuable data." She pushes the cage, stepping away as you go round and round. Your head spins. You squawk indignantly. "Where's your boss? I need to discuss price-"

The door clicks open again. She gawks up at the man who enters. His red eyes glare intensely into her.

It's a mess, after that. You manage to face the action, trying to record it to rewatch later, but actually keeping up with it in the moment is tricky.

From what you do pick up on, the two men opened fire on the intruder. Sylus's Evol was able to stop some of the bullets, too worn and weary to have any chance of catching them all. One hits his shoulder, distracting him just long enough from the doctor. There one moment, she seems to disappear the next. She's not gone - not at first. But Sylus is shoved aside in his moment of weakness and the door swings loose on its hinges, her heavy boots receding into the distance beneath the crossfire.

Two quick shots from a pistol end the fight.

He grunts, holding his shoulder as he looks down the hall. You don't know if he would have chased after her. That's a question that won't be answered perhaps for a lifetime, because your soft cawing draws him back to you.

Tucking his gun into its holster, he crosses the room to you. You stumble and trip trying to stand on your feet to meet him. Despite the situation, his lips curve into a slight grin, glad to see you again and with your same persistence.

The padlock clicks open. You nearly fall through the door and to the ground in your excitement, but he catches you, holding you securely against his chest. The blood on his hand stains your feathers. You start emitting a strange sort of purr, picking at his hand in an odd form of preening.

"What did she do to you, hm?" He idly scratches under your chin as he steps over an outstretched arm and into the hallway. He looks down the way, seeking any traces of the woman left behind without any luck. It aches deep within, reignites a fire that never truly went out, as he turns and heads for the back exit he came in through. "Sleep. I'll wake you when we're back home."

You nibble at a callous on his finger. He truly thinks you'll be a stubborn little thing and refuse, staying awake until he gets you home where he can get you fixed up. Fortunately, you relent. You tuck your beak into his hand, hiding away from the world. It's not long after that your feathers fluff slightly and you fall asleep in his arms.

He'll find that bastard one day. And he'll make her pay for everything she did to you.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red

[leah-lover]

A person more than an athlete. Nika mühl x reader

Love always had a way of consuming you. Whether it was your friendships, relationships with your parents, your friends, or even your romantic relationships, you felt the love in every part of your body. You loved deeply and wholeheartedly.

You were also a dedicated person. You gave your career all you had which in turn got you a championship in your freshman year.

Women's sports were trending, and you were on top of the pyramid. From sponsorship deals, to ads, interviews, and magazine shoots, you were everywhere. The spotlight didn't mean much to you though. All you cared about was the sleeping body next to you.

Nika was to you the prettiest girl in the world. For her you would absolutely do anything.

“ Good morning.” You whisper into her ear before you kiss her shoulder. “ Morning.” she responds, shifting to lay on her back.

You two start kissing. The kisses were short and sweet which left you needing much more. “ Baby I am gonna be late for class.” She says after pulling out.

“ But…” you start to protest before she cuts you off. “ Babe I still have to go all the way to my room, get ready and go to class. We will finish this later okay?” She says before getting out of bed. You sigh loudly as she wears her shirt and gets her stuff. “ I love you “ you say although what you say isn't clear because your face is hidden by a pillow. “ I love you too. I will see you in practice.” she says before she leaves.

The rest of the day went as usual. You got ready for class, which you attended. You then changed into your huskies' track suit and went to the gym.

You started out training all right. You did your activation, some shooting drills, lifted some weights and got some cardio done.

You didn't talk nika during all of this because coach geno sat you all down in the first session of the year and said. “ You all are UConn players now, you have a big legacy to follow. You need to focus, work hard and train hard, and while you are part of this team relationships with your teammates are absolutely forbidden.” However, you couldn't help but fall in love with the Croatian international, she captured your heart more than basketball everdid.

You thought something was up when the coach asked nika to go to his office for a chat but you didn't give it much thought instead you hung out with Paige and Kk. You didn't see nika leave because you were too busy learning a new dance with Paige.

“ Hey, can you give me a minute?” said the coach to you.

You then enter his office with an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“What's up coach? “ you say as you dit opposite his desk.

“ Look, I am gonna be as straight with you as I was with nika. You heard what I said the very first time you came to this gym. And you know what is gonna happen now.”

“ Coach with all do respect you can't do this. We are good assets to this team and we have been performing well. We won a whole championship last year while being together.”

“ I'm afraid it is not up for questioning. You will terminate this relationship. You agreed to this when you first signed the contract with us. The contract stated that inter team relationships are forbidden. Plus Nina already agreed to it.”

You didn't know how you got out of that office or how you walked across campus to your dorm. All you knew was that Nika and you were done.

You opened your door, got in and sat on the floor as soon as you closed it. You started to uncontrollably sob. That's when you feel familiar hands wrap around you. Her smell and her touch were comforting.

“ I love you so much.” she whispered in your ear. You could feel her tears on your cheeks.

“ he said you agreed to the bullshit he said.” you say wiping your tears.

“ I couldn't not agree. If he cuts me from the team I am done. I have to go back home and all of this will be for nothing.”

“ We can keep it a secret again. I don't want to live without you.”

“ Baby, if he catches us again we can't come back from it. I love you so much baby but I can't.”

You kiss each other multiple times while holding one another on the floor of your dorm. Nika then leaves and you stay on the floor heartbroken for a long time.

You flipped a switch as soon as she left the door knowing that you aren't gonna wake up next to her, sleep next to her, kiss her, or be inside her.

The next day at training was miserable to say the least. You didn't sleep the night before, you didn't smile, or talk to anybody. Your performance displayed your sadness. You were missing easy shots, and you clearly weren't focused. You didnt talk to nika or look at her. You started like that for 2 weeks you didnt talk to anybody, all you thought about was how much you modded her touch.

“ baby please don't do this.” said nika to you one the way to practice. “ We need to talk.” she says before she pulled you into the medic’s room.

As soon as she closed the door, she pinned you to the wall and started kissing you. You missed the taste of her lips, the weight of her hands on your waist, the way her hands rubbed you sides and her tongue swiped across your.

“ i missed you so fucking much.” she says after pulling out.

“ I am not whole without you. I can't do anything without you. I missed you so much.” you say before kissing her again. You were hungry for her, you needed her more than anything in the world.

“ I don't like this without you. Would you please come back to me?.” she asks while swiping her thumb on your cheek.

“ if it cost me my life to be with you again.” you respond.

'I love you baby.’ she adds.

“ I love you more than you will ever know.” you respond.

[julesnichols]

Okay bear with me here because I've got brain fog and tend to word salad but I'm gonna try my fucking best--

Everyone who insists that shipping/romance isn't the point of Severance and that anyone who ships is missing the REAL point about what capitalism does is also missing the fucking point, because it's BOTH

Because yes, it's about what capitalism does and the evils of giant corporations. But it's also about love, and specifically two things about love:

1. That falling in love when you're not supposed to, when you're trapped in hell, is one of the most revolutionary things you can do in a system that wants to crush you into dust. In a system that wants you to obey, loving somebody instead of giving in or giving up IS the most revolutionary choice you can make. This corporation can tell you that you're less than human, they can torture you, but you can still carve out a life and a family and find romantic love, too

and

2. That you cannot create a version of yourself that exists solely to do labor for his entire life so that you can cease to exist for forty hours of the week to escape your grief, and not face the consequences of that action

I think I've made my point about the first one enough as is, so let me just get into the second a bit more:

Mark Scout was choking on his grief over losing Gemma. He drowned himself in alcohol to cope, and either lost or left his job that he loved. He took a job that involved brain surgery to split his consciousness in half rather than confront his grief head on; he can choose not to exist for forty hours of his week, and spend the other hours either drunk out of his mind or asleep (the consequences of drinking being something that bleed into his innie as well).

I think that anyone who's dealt with a traumatic and painful loss can relate to why he would do such a thing. Isn't it understandable, if you had a way to not exist for a while, that you would take it without hesitation? That if you were drowning and confronting it would mean more pain before it got better, you'd run from it if you could?

But what Severance wants us to do is go beyond sympathizing with Mark Scout: it asks us to consider the consequences. Because in severing himself for a reason people can sympathize with him for, he created a version of himself that exists solely to work for his entire life, with no breaks, no rest, and torture tactics when he fucks up-- no matter how small the fuck up may be.

A version of himself without his memories, who has trickles of his grief but none of the love to go with it. Who falls in love with someone he meets down there, because Mark S. was created so that Mark Scout could avoid his grief and his love for Gemma. And thus, Mark S. moved on, because he never knew anything else.

Then Mark Scout finds out that Gemma is alive. He reintegrates without his innie's consent, because he views Mark S. as inferior to him and entitled to his memories. Their relationship is inherently exploitative.

Mark S. and Helly's relationship progresses further. Helena Eagan stalks Mark Scout. And here's something that gets me: you have to have your head buried six feet deep in the fucking sand to not see that they were flirting.

A sane person would've run when Helena awkwardly bragged about who she was and offered to bring Mark Scout to her father. But Mark Scout escalates it, turning it into a flirtatious joke about her taking him home to dad. And yes, he does ultimately go for more brain surgery because he feels guilty and spooked that he was flirting with Helena. Because he escalated the flirting.

Again, you have to be deep in denial to not see that. It relates back to the point about how he feels entitled to his innie's memories and experiences: he feels guilty and unsettled, so he tries to absorb more of them in hopes of more glimpses of Gemma to help him find and save her.

Again, can't you sympathize with that?

And again, the show asks you to consider the ramifications beyond that.

(note: I am on the side that innies and outies aren't cut and dry separate people as they are the same base people with different memories and lived experiences, akin to amnesia)

The first thing that Mark Scout remembers is Mark S. having sex with Helly, specifically as he watches her orgasm for the first time while he's inside of her. An extremely intimate moment, and it's intentional that it's that and not another flash of Gemma. Because the show, once again, is asking the audience to consider the consequences of Mark Scout's actions in severing himself.

And Mark S. recognizes that Mark Scout is exploiting him at the end! Mark Scout demands he find Gemma, save her, and be willing to die (because even if he reintegrates, NEITHER of them will be the same-- I'll come back to this in a sec). He belittles what Mark S. has with Helly and the life he's made for himself. He dehumanizes him. Because Mark Scout created Mark S. to escape, to do labor for him, and again-- he wanted to use him to get Gemma and then cast him aside, furthering how he dehumanizes and exploits him... and there are consequences to that action.

Back to the thing about reintegration I said I'd get back to: the characters within show, and quite frankly a large swath of the audience, thinks that it's Mark Scout absorbing Mark S.'s memories, and just still being Mark Scout with those memories. And yet, the show has shown us that this isn't the case. Petey says his earliest memories of the severed floor feel as far back as his childhood! What I think reintegration does, is create a new version of innie and outie, with both their memories. And that it's probably reliant more on harmony of goals and desires than forcing it; but again, the outies view the innies as inferior. Even the people in the show who claim to advocate against severance don't consider the innies human enough to consider what'll happen to them.

And so of course Mark S. chooses himself for the first time in his life at the end of the season. Because once again, the show asks you to look beyond the surface and consider the consequences.

And yet, too much of the audience also subconsciously (or consciously sometimes tbh) thinks of innies as subhuman, and miss the entire fucking point. Yes, there are obnoxious shippers; there always fucking are in large fandoms, use the block button as God intended. But you are being equally obnoxious and obtuse if you insist that the show does not want us to consider love and romance, too. Because again, it's about both the evils of capitalism and how revolutionary love can be, and how you cannot escape your actions. You cannot separate those two themes, because the show uses the romances in the show as vehicles to explore the evils and consequences of capitalism.

So stop fucking saying everybody who ships things doesn't understand the show, and actually watch it yourself, because clearly you don't either.

[ldrfanatic]

r9 for mattheo riddle pls🙏

shakin', pacin', I just need you

mattheo riddle x fem!hufflepuff!reader

r9 - "for you I would fall from grace, just to touch your face"

gonna be at the dentist office w my bf for the next three to four hours so I'm gonna try and clear out my requests <3

lowkey I was praying someone would request this for mattheo

part two anyone?

y'all I could not find where I wrote down my mattheo taglist so if you wanna be added please please PLEASE comment on this post so I can start a new one thanksss

slytherin boys works

"y/n are you even listening to me?"

the voice of hannah abbot, a fellow hufflepuff, tore your eyes from your only slytherin friend albeit reluctantly. when you finally looked towards your friend, her mouth was turned up into a disapproving frown.

"no. I know you think he's your friend, but he's not."

she wasn't entirely wrong. afterall, you couldn't honestly say that you'd exchanged more than a few words with the boy, though it wasn't for lack of opportunity. he'd approached you on more than one occasion but neither of you ever seemed to actually speak.

really, it was because mattheo felt stumped by you. he'd spent a lot of time with different girls while he'd been at hogwarts. but when he tried to approach you, he fumbled. every. single. time. that was how he first knew you were special.

the kind of girl that made him want to face his father's wrath even though he knew that liking you would be more than enough for a crucio.

between your friends, his family, and his inability to articulate his thoughts around you, mattheo never really got the chance to talk to you.

that is, until now.

somehow, by the grace of the universe, snape had paired you with him for the d.a.d.a. project studying boggarts. you touched on them briefly in your third year but due to lupin's condition, didn't get the chance to finish them. for once, mattheo actually wanted to do schoolwork and do well on this project so you didn't resent him for a bad grade.

as class was dismissed, a hand softly grabbed your wrist.

"wait."

it was mattheo. he was actually speaking words to you rather than just sitting there and staring. it was almost unsettling if anything.

"d'you maybe wanna meet in the library after classes and..."

you smiled sweetly and nodded.

"are you sure you can handle it riddle? don't you have to be talking to someone to study with them?"

there was a teasing tone in your voice which caused mattheo's face to bloom and pink to tinge over the tips of his ears. suddenly, like a switch had flipped, a cocky smile took over his face.

"i can't help it if you take my breath away. maybe you just bring out the best in me like that."

caught off by his banter and yet undeterred, you continued.

"well we all know that you're at your best when you shut up."

you spoke the words with a teasing smile. his jaw fell promptly open at your words, completely surprised that a hufflepuff would say something like that. while mattheo attempted to collect himself, you shoved your dark arts textbook into your satchel and swung it up onto your shoulder.

"the library. tonight. 5pm sharp. don't be late riddle."

five o'clock could not come fast enough. potions with professor scalby was simply exhausting. she was a kind enough women which was a nice change from professor snape after she'd taken over the class following his promotion to d.a.d.a., but the woman had a love for potions that you could safely say no one else in the class really shared. unless you counted hermione granger, a sweet enough gryffindor also in your year.

by the time that scalby finished gushing about the amortentia your class would attempt to brew next week, you were sure you'd aged an entire year in this class alone.

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, class was dismissed. you quickly packed your books away and scurried off to the library, arriving a decent few minutes before mattheo sauntered in with an otherworldly confused look on his face.

"sorry i'm a little late. i got lost."

he spoke to you in a deep yet gentle rumble that had your heart beating a little faster in your chest. it was hard not to notice the way that he gawked at the old century library which was probably your favorite collection of books in the whole world.

"have you never been here before?"

mattheo's dark curls bounced atop his head as he shook it slowly. he looked down at his large hands with what appeared to be shame.

"i've never really taken an interest in school before."

wanting to make him feel better you gently bumped your shoulder into his as the two of you walked back towards the study tables.

"you're taking an interest now."

"in you."

his words made the both of you settle into a thick silence. though it was hard not to notice his lingered stares across the great hall or after a slytherin-hufflepuff match, it was the first time that he'd spoken words aloud that alluded to his feelings for you, and it seemed to catch the both of you off guard.

after a moment's pause, mattheo spoke again.

"i-uh, i don't know why i said that i'm sorry."

you reached your hand out from across the table where the two of you had settled down and grasped his hand in yours. you flashed him a reassuring smile.

"don't be."

abruptly, mattheo let out a strangled noise of frustration and tugged at his hair with his fingers.

"i can't do this anymore."

your heart thumped so quickly against your ribcage, you feared it might stop beating altogether.

"can't do what anymore?"

"this, y/n. i can't keep posing that i want to be your friend and do friendly things together like study at the library."

now your heart was breaking. hannah was right. mattheo riddle was not your friend and-- oh. mattheo riddle was not done speaking.

"i can't keep pretending when i want to be so much more than friends with you. when i want to do very not friendly things with you. to you. when i feel like throwing these books on the floor and yanking you across this table and pressing every part of your body against every part of mine."

instead of doing that, he stood from his seat and knelt in front of you. it felt weird to have the son of the dark lord on his knees in front of you all but begging you to be his girlfriend.

"i know i'm not the chosen one or anything and i'm never gonna be the good guy. but damnit if i have to stay away from you any longer i don't think i could stand it."

his confession stunned you into silence. how the hell could yoou possibly respond to that?

"say something, please."

a hopeful look had taken over his features. his brown eyes sparkled under the dim library lights.

"i don't care that you're not the protagonist mattheo. i would fall from grace for you."

---

<taglist>

@blobsblobician @helendeath

07.07.2024

[lunajay33]

Not as Planned Part.2

•🤍🧺⛓️‍💥🪽•

Summary: Kozik was your world and with a baby girl on the way everything was becoming clear, but you worried for his safety with the cartel, happy being both of your best friend he was always there to reassure you, but what will the future hold?

Pairing: Kozik x f!reader, Happy x f!reader

Included: Pregnancy, Character Death:(, Depression, Grief, Flashbacks, Fluff, 18+

Part.1

•Masterlist•

I pull up to the clubhouse, taking the bag of cookies and baby stuff and heading into the shop to show Gemma, she loved this baby stuff

“Sweetheart you’re back already!”

“Yeah guys are out on the run, best I come back here and wait for them! Happys mom gave me some things I thought you’d love to see!”

She drops her pen and gives me her full attention as I pull out the blankets and cute baby clothes

“It’s crazy to think crazy Happy was that small and innocent once” she laughed

“Isn’t it, his mom is desperate for grandbabies and a daughter in law trust me” I say as I snack on the cookies

“Really? She got a soft spot for you?”

“Yeah but that’s just her, she’s a sweet old lady, she just wants happy to have someone”

For the rest of the day I help around the club house, cleaning up, organizing Happys dorm, mine and Koziks dorm too, he even bought a little bassinet for Lily so when she comes we can keep her next to the bed

Even though this life is crazy I couldn’t wait to start this family, Kozik is so excited, always talks to my bump every night promising he’ll always keep her happy and safe

He’s gonna make an amazing dad and I’m excited to see that, the hard biker all sweet in his little girl, he was the most gentle of all the guys in the club, don’t get me wrong the guys are gentlemen’s when they want to be but that was Kozik, my husband, he was just born that way, and I tell him all the time how lucky I feel having found him

Breaking out of my thoughts I hear the rumble of motorcycles pulling up in the lot outside, stepping out as the sun is setting, painting the sky in hues of pinks and oranges

I hold my bump feeling like a kid in a candy shop, giddy to see my man, I walk along the bikes to where Kozik usually parks but he’s not there, so I turn to happy who parks next to him, he takes his helmet off and his head hangs low

“Happy? Where is he?” That unsettled feeling came over me like it did this morning

He walks over standing so close, he wouldn’t even look at me

“Happy please talk to me, where is he?” My voice quivers and I feeling my stomach twist, his hands take the sides on my arms holding me steady as he finally looked at me, the guys all watching from their bikes

“We were out with the Cartel, after some people, he went ahead through this field, we didn’t know”

“Didn’t know what? Happy don’t tell me what I think you’re gonna say” I suck in a breath trying to hold my tears

“It was a minefield, he couldn’t get out fast enough……..it’s was over fast” his voice deep as my hearing started to ring, my knees weak as I dropped to the ground, Happy catching my fall before my knees hit, I couldn’t even cry I felt sick, I felt numb and then everything went black

•

Happys Pov

Seeing the look on her face broke me, she’s been such a constant joy in my life, when Kozik introduced us I was suspicious, he was a good friend and I’m wary of new people

But when I spent more time with her and Kozik I saw how much she really loved him, they were everything to eachother, different than the usual relationship between bikers and their ol ladies, he was always gentle with her, never raised his voice and I saw why, she was a bundle of joy, always caring

Seeing him blow up on the minefield put a rip in me, not just because he was my best friend but because I knew how worried she got about this, knowing the crew wasn’t safe and now she’s left without her husband and a baby who will never meet their father

I hold her limp body in my arms as the guys surround us panicking

“Wake up girl, come on” I groan worried as I tap her cheeks

“She’s in shock, bring her to her dorm, I’ll make some comfort food for when she gets up” Gemma says

I pick her up with ease and carry her to the room she shared with Kozik when they’d crash here, laying her in the bed placing a blanket over her and taking her shoes off

I sit in the chair they have in the corner of the room, rubbing a hand over my face

“Shit” I’m not good at this emotional shit I don’t know how to navigate through this but I promised Kozik if anything ever happened I’d take care of her and make sure she wasn’t alone

Looking at the baby bassinet in the corner out a lump in my throat, he always told me his worries about the way the club was going late at night, the threats with Tara, the pressure from the Cartel and IRA

Thought Jax was out of control and it was gonna blow back in us in one way or another, I always told him it would be fine, they’d figure it out and we were so close to getting out, he was so close

And I promised him I’d take care of his girls and I’ll protect them with my life so they won’t hurt again

The door opens and chibs comes in carrying Koziks kutte placing it on the bed next to y/n

“Awful shite, lil lassy like her don’t deserve this” he says leaning against the door frame

“No she doesn’t, I’m so angry, I’d rip those men apart piece by piece if they weren’t already dead” I say not taking my eyes off of her

“She’ll be okay brother” I shook my head

“You didn’t know their relationship like I do, they were intertwined down to every fibre of their beings, this is gonna break her”

“She’s still got you Hap, she’s got the club to lean on”

•

Normal Pov

I feel him holding me like he always did when we slept, my big biker always came home to cuddle with me and it always made me smile, I turn to get closer to him but when I put my hand out it lands on leather and not a warm body I was use to

Opening my eyes I see the bed is empty and only lays Koziks Kutte and then all the memories come flooding back and reality sets in……he gone

The tears fall immediately and I bring the kutte to my face breathing him cologne in

“Please god no” I cry so hard I can barely breath, I just had him with me this morning, he swore he’d come back to me

I feel a hand on my back and I look up to Happy sitting next to me, the sorrow written all over his face was something I’ve never seen, he was always either straight faced or joking here and there, this just made me feel worse but atleast he was still here with me and felt a bit of what I’m feeling

“This wasn’t suppose to happen Happy, why him? He got his life together, he quit drugs, he was happy with me, so excited for our baby and starting a family, why us?”im a mess as the tears blur my vision and soak into his shirt as he holds me

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let him go” he grunts his voice more deep than usual and I know he’s trying to keep his emotions down

“It’s not, it’s Jaxs fault, Herman was scared he told me, he got my husband killed because he’s a hot head” my despair was forming into rage, I push back from Happy getting off the bed and stomping out of the dorm, I hear happy trying to stop me, but I somehow out run him at 7 months pregnant, getting back to the common area I see him sat at a table and I see red as the tears still spill down my face

“This is your fault YOU BASTARD YOU GOT MY HUSBAND KILLED” I run at him wanting to rip him apart, the guys don’t do anything surprisingly but right before I could get to him, my hand met inches from his face I feel happy wrap his arms around me holding me to his chest

“Calm down girl”

“Calm down! I just lost the love of my life, I can’t do this without him” the anger wave subsided and I’m left a shell of myself again, like my half my heart was gone

“Look im sorry but how was i suppose to know this would happen” Jax says like no blame should land on him

“Everyone knew getting in with the cartel was a bad idea, he was so worried and now I’m all alone” I’m a blubbering mess

“Come on sweetheart I’ve made you some soup, maybe it’ll help, all this stress is gonna put you and the baby in the hospital” Gemma says as she holds a bowl of warm soup walking back to my dorm

“You’re not alone lil girl, I’m not leaving your side, I promised him I’d take care of his girls and that’s what I’m gonna do” happy whispers to me and for a split second I feel a relief but it’s gone just as quick as he leads me back to the dorm

I take Koziks Kutte and put it on, I don’t care if it’s against the rules I’ll wear this for as long as I can just to sense him here

How do I do this without the man I cherished with every morsel of my being?

•

Part.3

Lmk how you’re liking it so far

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980 @samcrosfaith @word-scribbless @tommyflanaganfan-blog @youngadult9016

[congratufuckyoulations]

i LOVE my 2 boyfriends~🤍

SORRY FOR GRAMMAR ERRORS

Sanji x reader, zoro x reader, zosan duh. Zosan x reader idek if thats a things tbh but like thats basically accurate so idek. Sanji is lowkey a switch? , Zoro! Top as always,but lowkey he soft, the reader is a switch idk lowkey. kinda slow start srry

a/n: I was scrolling on TikTok and saw these pics. It makes perfect sense honestly. You can see the watermark on the pics too so yeah. Anyway love u TikTok, thank u for this random idea lol. writing this in my notes rn I honestly only know how I’m gonna start this. Praying for an ending to appear at the end of this. hopefully i post this. I also only know how to write decently long fanfics sorry bout that.....Also kinda took inspo from challengers. With zendaya making the two guys kiss in the movie. It was so real, so iconic. The scene was deadass great thank yewwww and I will be putting a scene like that IN HERE 😮‍💨😏😇

Warning- HEAVY SMUT??! , girl idk it gets freaky??! PORN WITH PLOT BASICALLY . deadass don’t know what people consider SUSSY help. Just read with an open mind!?? ANAL!!! sanji and reader. yeah ik sounds crazy. Just be very open minded i know anal isnt taken lightly💔 not that ive done it. Thats me having an open mind

THEY ARE BOYFRIENDS. 

Zosan truther🙌👏

-ofc I gotta add sum with the outfits, so here it is. I know the shoes are impractical. But let’s just look at Namis and Robin's shoes. Right ,okay , so yeah enjoy. The heels are just too cute. they are like a more stable heel too i love them. im broke.

  You sway along in the breeze of the evening. Your feet dragging against the stone path. Feeling every small rock you step on with your heels.�� Some even cause you to lose balance here and there. But never enough to fall over, only losing balance for a quick second. The people of the town your crew saved dance into the next day. You never knew so many people could keep up the fun for so long. I mean a party longer than a day let alone going on the second one already.

Forgetting about all your responsibilities for a second. You smile feeling great with all the new memories being created. Forgetting about the unstable path for a second feeling a strong breeze pick up. Making you realize this little brown cover-up wasn't gonna cut it. This trip back to the boat needs to go by faster. You thought to yourself as you picked up the pace. The cool breeze nipping at your exposed legs. Your heels click against the stone path. Echoing through the empty spaces between the townhouses you pass by. You can see the silhouette of the sunny as the sunsets past the horizon out of sight. As you hurry away from all the loud music and laughter. The sunny growing bigger the closer you get.

Previously this morning when waking up and changing into shorts and the halter top. It never passed your mind how easily the weather would drop as the sunset.

"I should've asked Nami about the weather today" you grumble to yourself. Nami was great not only being an excellent friend. But overall she was a girl with a strong head on top of her shoulders. The weather never made much sense to you. Thunderstorms didn't scare you into a panic, but it was a little unsettling at the loud strikes of thunder. Weather never passed your mind as much of an interest. When Nami talked about it though you could listen for hours. It was all second nature to Nami. (Nami x reader??) Soon gaining a pep in your step at the thought of your ginger friend who you loved dearly. Your mind wanders off easily making the trip back to the boat seem more quick than you remember

Walking back to the sunny letting your body take control. Only a few feet away from the ramp leading to the sunny. Putting full trust in your body to get you onto the boat.  Going to the sunny not only meant changing into warmer clothes to party with through the rest of the night, but you knew two particular guys would be there too. Or at least you hoped that was the case.

Now that your thinking about it throughout today's party events the two were nowhere to be seen. The excuse of going back to the sunny to change into warmer clothes was an opportunity to break away from Luffy which wasn't hard at all, not when meat was involved. You felt bad leaving Luffy, but knowing the boy he was bound to make a new friend in seconds. But now you could go and confirm your suspicions. Knowing the two probably snuck off to enjoy time with each other. And the FOMO was real. 

Since the three of you had some weird alliance. You were all comfortable with each other and cared for each other a little more deeply than most crewmates. Mostly because most crewmates don't sleep around with each other….. was it a relationship? or a situationship? None of you knew the answer.

 It started with just you and Sanji making out here and there. After the first exchange, you both covered up this “fling” as both adults using each other for pleasure and nothing more. You both agreed that the two of you were just pirates who often spent many days at sea. Who needs some stress relief during those times? Both the others type. Not because you like each other or anything. And it was consensual, so who was it harming? Soon Zoro found out the situation between you two. Coincidentally catching the two of you in the act of the heated exchange.

Flashback onto a random day 

 One day when Sanji was stressed out over how he was gonna portion out servings with such a low food supply. (Due to Luffy…) you decided to be there to support him. Somehow that ended up in an intense make-out session in the kitchen where you were consoling him. If this even is consider consoling. Soon the kissing takes a turn for the better.  With Sanji lifting you on the counter. Your Back to the door.

With Sanji between your legs. His body spreads them further apart. His left hand is on your hip. Rubbing his hand back and forth in a soothing motion. You don’t realize the key detail in the heat of the moment. But your body shows Sanji a reaction you're unaware of when his hands rub against you. Your lips always curled up whenever his hands grabbed your hips or waist. Your body always seems to relax into putty at this action.

 Sanjis hand traveled up your torso, to your neck. Soon finding its way to cup your cheek. As his hand traveled into your hair pulling you deeper into the kiss. Teeth clashing. Tongues deep in the other's mouth. Trying to savor every drop of each other's salvia. It had been around a month since the last session. Both never being able to catch a moment alone. Now finally getting a quick chance together. On the kitchen counter. Not the ideal spot but it was better than going even longer without something.

Your hands explore the cook's body as well. Your hands find his chest and glide them down his dark blue suit. Your arms grasping at the waist trying to pull him closer. Your legs soon follow suit. Lifting them to wrap around the blonde's waist. Feeling like he couldn't get any closer. You both need this. Both of you relentlessly grinding on one another. Your arms come back up to wrap around his neck. You felt so desperate for a release.

God Sanji's cock felt so good against your shorts. You couldn't help but glance down between the two of your bodies. Your chests rise up and down as you pant from the small workout. Admiring the bulge rutting against you. Stomach filled with warmth at how great Sanji looked as his pants grew tighter. Your mouth salivated at the outline of the bulge and the way Sanji slide perfectly against your clothed clit. Causing your body to jolt and tighten your thighs around Sanji.

“Mon amour, you feel so great I cannot get enough~” Sanji coos down into your ear. 

“G-god Sanji, just keep doing that~” You whine back. Feeling like an amateur who just found out about dry humping for the first time. Chasing the amazing feeling of the fabric between you. Rubbing together against your most sensitive areas. The two of you rutting against each other trying to get as much friction as possible. Sanji softly laughs before leaning back in to capture your lips in another passionate kiss.

He loved how you often told him what to do. Your simple and small demands he could so easily fulfill. Knowing at the end he would be rewarded with the sight of your face with pure bliss. How your skin becomes damp and how your cheeks puff out from every orgasm. You often were very serious and liked taking control when with Sanji. But you had to admit he does know how to make a girl feel good. And you couldn’t complain about that.

As the kiss deepens and the room grows hotter. You hear the fridge door open from the left of you. The way Sanji freezes mid-kiss lets you know he also heard the fridge door opening. Both your bodies coming to a complete halt.

Both your heads snap to see Zoro leaning over halfway looking into the fridge, grabbing something from inside. Soon standing up straight. His hand swung the fridge door shut. A cold sake bottle in hand. Staring blankly at the two of you. Taking in the sight of you on the counter with Sanji between your legs. A full display of the cook's erection. Both of your hair messy from letting your hands roam freely. Your top pushed up showing your stomach slightly. With Sanjis suit jacket on the floor. You're pretty sure you pushed that off in the heat of the moment.

“You forgot to lock the door”

Zoro speak up. His face never changing, looking completely serious while you and Sanji stare back in total terror. You could see Sanji's face turn red with anger and you knew a handful of insults were about to come from the blonde's mouth.

“IDIOT YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT NOW!” Sanji yells at Zoro who is already walking back to the kitchen door. Getting ready to take his leave. Looking back to the two of you

“Next time I’ll show the shitty cook how to treat you,” Zoro says as he walks out the door. Leaving you with a grumpy sanji grumbling about how that "moss head is the last person to know how to any girl." Especially you, out of all people.

Let's just say there did end up being a next time only a day later. And ever since the three of y’all used each other to fulfill any sexual desires. There was supposed to be “no feeling involved” but deep down you all knew you did. You all did have feelings for each other but you all had yet to figure something out.

Back to the present

Now as you reached the top of the ramp, slowly steeping onto the deck of the sunny. You notice how the sunny seems so much more calm without your crazy captain running around. Or a skeleton bugging you about your panties. You frown missing your crew members already. Even though you know they aren’t too far away throwing another one of their super parties. 

This trip to the boat to change would be over soon and you would be back with your group. But your stomach brewed with warmth at the sight of light peeping through the bottom of the door leading to the kitchen. If both guys weren’t here. You at least knew one of the guys was. And that was Sanji. You could always rely on Sanji when you wanted somebody who would listen to what you say right away. Sanji listened to you.

Zoro not so much both of you often butting heads and getting into small little arguments. Both of you have very dominating personalities humor and love-wise. Even though you and Zoro were both dominant. The two of you learned to open up with each other throughout this whole situation. It was most common for you and Zoro to overpower the chef. It was like good cop and bad cop. You treated Sanji the way he deserved making sure to pamper to his every need. While Zoro played the bad cop. Often being rougher with Sanji and throwing insults around casually.

The combination was overwhelming for Sanji. Getting controlled by a beautiful lady and a decent swordsman. The three of y’all experimented in many different ways. Sometimes the two boys team up to pleasure you as much as possible. Making sure you feel appreciated. You especially liked it when both of the boys just wanted to be taken care of by you. Letting you do whatever you want to them. The trio using up their free will as much as possible to discover new things

Your feet move on their own at the thought of the two guys passing through your mind. Your legs pick up speed as you approach the door turning the knob. Letting your body be greeted by the warmth of the kitchen. (erm why are we always in the kitchen) As the door swings out of the way. You see two familiar figures to your left. You knew them all too well. Of course, this is where they would be. Seeing the two in a very scandalous position leads your smile to grow as you turn to lock the kitchen door.

Seeing Zoro pressing into Sanji as he was sat on the counter. This position was all too familiar to you. Having been caught in the same one with Sanji the day Zoro decided to join this...…situation. Except Sanji saw as you entered with Zoros back to you. Sanjis right leg wrapped around the swordsman's waist. While the other was in between Zoro's legs.

The scene itself sent heat straight from your face down to your core. The two guys using each other to get off. Zoros hands tightly on the blonde's waist. Sanjis's face is flushed red. It was amusing seeing Sanji in the position you once were in. Only a couple of counters away from where the two of you were caught by Zoro.

Sanjis hips slowing down against his was enough to catch Zoro's attention. Following the cook's eye line he turns his head behind him to see you standing there with your cheeks flushed. You begin to walk closer, making your way to the right of Zoro. As you approach the pair your hand slides along Zoro's back. Feeling the muscles underneath your fingertip through his green kimono. Letting your hip rest against the counter. Now with your body facing them. Both boys turn their heads to look at you.

"I think you forgot to lock the door~" you tease the two guys.

"You can blame Moss Head for that this time" Sanji replies. His voice shaking a little at the actions that took place not long ago

"oh shut it cook. Y/N are you gonna join or not" Zoro mutters looking back to the boy in front of him.

As Zoro looked away, you watched as he began picking his pace back up. Zoro continued to grind up against the cook in a desperate chase of relief. His cheeks were well flushed. His eyes started dropping making him look delicious. Sweat forming on his neck. You could eat him up right now if he let you. Your hands coming up to cup his face. Turning his head to you as he leaned down to kiss you.

Your hand finds its way into his green hair. The other finds his neck resting around it. Nothing intense though, just a light hold on his neck not wanting to hurt the swordsman. Not like you really could hurt the brute of a man.

While making out with Zoro he held onto Sanji keeping up his thrust against their clothed bulges. Sanji felt so good already and the sight of the two of you making out right in front of him. It was enough for him to almost come undone right there. He could feel his orgasm creeping closer. As you and Zoro pull away. A string of salvia connects the two of you. Zoro and your lips curved into a slight smiles at the lewd sight

Sanji was entranced with how well you and Zoro looked together. He might’ve said he hated the swordsman. But he couldn't deny the guy's good looks. The two of you together looked amazing. It was a dream for Sanji. Sanji was broken out of his trance as you and Zoro turned your heads to look at the blonde. As he sat on the counter with Zoro's pace slowing down against him.

You spoke up

“Sanji has been working extra hard lately. Don't you agree, Marimo?”

“You think so, huh? If you’re so sure then you must be correct~” zoro replies

“I think that deserves a reward~” you coo

You and Zoro glance at one another quickly before locking back onto Sanji

“How does that sound sanji~” you purr

As your right hand travels up his arm, going up to the nape of his neck. Your fingers twisting his blonde hair at the back of his neck

“My love that sounds more than delightful~” Sanji whisper out.

That’s all you and Zoro needed before beginning to work the cook. Zoro began undressing himself between the cook's legs. As you and Sanji leaned in sharing a kiss. It was slow and loving. Zoro watched intensely watching how you and Sanji worked each other's mouths.

Your body leans down a bit to meet the cook halfway. You slightly overpowered the cook. One of Sanjis's hands holding your waist while the other is placed behind him to keep him upright. After a while of being consumed by the sight of you two.

Zoro begins helping the chef out of his shirt. Then turning his attention to you. Leaning over slightly to kiss your neck from behind. His hands traveled up the small of your back to your shoulders pulling off the small brown cover-up you wore.

Throwing it off somewhere. His hands travel down your back. Once halfway down your back, you felt his bigger hands wrap around your front side. His hand finds the button of the shorts. His fingers worked to undo the button of the small shorts you wore. Allowing you and Sanji to continue your turn making out

Zoro was dominant, yes but he still cared. Even though his introvert personality made him always seem grumpy. The guy was a complete idiot and often cracked small jokes here and there. It would be a shock to many to see how the man cared for Sanji and you.

With the small act of helping you two out of your clothes. Zoro always enjoyed watching even though he wouldn't admit it. Zoro felt himself grow even more hard at the sight of the pair growing more relaxed. As they let Zoro take control of them. Allowing him to undress the two of you.

You smile into the kiss feeling Zoro's rough hands against your legs as he slides your shorts down. Feeling his hand travel up the back of your legs, tracing your body from your thighs, up the spine of your back coming back up to your shoulders. His fingers quickly undo the top tied around your neck. Pulling away from Sanji feeling the support from your shirt disappear. You glance down and then right back up to Sanji.

His face flushed. A lazy smile across his face. His eyes were glazed over with lust. Looking back down getting ready to remove to the top yourself. You felt both the boy's hands at the bottom of your halter top. Pulling the shirt up and over your head. The two doing all the work for you.

You giggle as you lean up kissing Zoro. Before pulling away and turning your head to make out with Sanji. It wasn't too long before you pulled your head away from Sanji. Your left hand finds the back of Zoros's neck and your right hand finds its way to Sanjis as well. The three of your faces burning up. You slowly pull away, leaving only the boys face-to-face. The two caught the message. Your hand only rested on their necks as they leaned in to kiss each other. You would be lying if you said this didn't make you hot.

As your eyes dropped lower you realized the two men were both only in their boxers now. Looking at yourself you stand only in your underwear and well your heels. Looking down at your shorts now pooled around your heels. Stepping out of your heels leaving them in between the shorts. Pushing the pile of clothes to the side with your foot.

As you looked up from moving your shoes and shorts out of the way. You caught the eyes of Zoro and Sanji looking at you. While undressing yourself the two at one point realized you were no longer touching them. Or even paying attention to them.

"Oi, I thought you were joining in?" Zoro says with a smirk

"Does it not look like it" You reply, as you give him an, Are you serious? Look. you stood there naked. It was obvious the two of you were just joking around. Zoro may have a bad sense of direction, but that didn't mean the man was stupid

Zoro reaches his arm out to grab you. Pulling you closer to the pair you've grown very fond of. Sanjis hand reaches out hooking his finger around the side of your underwear

"My sweet these might get in the way" Sanji coos in your right ear

"The cooks right, I thought I removed those with the shorts" Zoro agrees, his smirk growing. His hands find their way to the sides of your body. Pulling your underwear down letting them fall onto the floor. While Zoro helped you out of your underwear, Sanji was quick to get rid of his boxers. The two of you are now completely naked in the kitchen. Thankfully you locked the door and there was a huge party going on at the moment. Otherwise none of this would be able to get past the crew.

Zoro had stepped out a little from between Sanjis legs. His hands guide you to stand in his spot. With Sanjis sitting on the counter leaning back on his right hand. His head tilts back due to the pleasure his other hand is giving him. You were right in front of Sanjis exposed legs, his hardened cock on display. Lewd moans flow out from between the cook's lips as his gaze settles on you.

"You get top," Zoro says in your ear, as he lifts you by the waist helping you onto the blonde's lap. Sanji arms stretched invitingly. His arms pulling you close as you settle down.

You never liked dominant guys, but Zoro was so different. He was soft when it came to intercourse. His demands come out softly never raising his voice at you. He was firm with what he wanted. The gesture of him easily lifting you was impressive. Lifting you on the counter to straddle the cook sitting on it. Zoro casually shows off his natural strength to you and Sanji.

As you are now straddling Sanji on the counter with Zoro behind you. You get a little shy with your bare back end exposed to somebody. But you remind yourself that these are the guys you've seen naked a couple of times already. The feeling of Sanjis's hard cock on your clit helps you easily get distracted

The two of you locking lips again as you slowly start to rock on his cock. Feeling his length slide easily between your lips. Your slick provides a natural lubricant allowing you to slide back and forth easier. You pull away looking down admiring the way his cock glides perfectly against your clit.

"Sanji, my love, I can feel how hard you are with no clothes between us," you say

"M-Mon Amour, keep moving like that" Sanji whines, as you grind down harder onto the blonde. It was way too hot for you and Sanji to handle. Your minds are both fuzzy at the sight of his hardened cock almost entering you. Only to hump into your folds with the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive clit perfectly

Behind you, zoro watches for a while enjoying the show once again. His cock throbbing brought him back to reality as his hand pumped up and down his shaft. His hardened cock grew in size at the sight of you grinding slowly against the chef's cock.

Not allowing him to enter you just yet. Zoro opened his mouth allowing himself to spit down onto his hardened cock. Feeling a quick cooling sensation on his cock from the spit before it disappeared. As he rubbed the spit onto his aching cock. Zoros's left-hand finds its way to your thigh from behind. The sight of you grinding on Sanji from behind made the swordsman go crazy.

His left hand moved to your ass grabbing some in his hand before moving over to your wet folds. Inserting one finger slowly pumping it in and out before adding a second in. Seeing the way your back arched at the feeling of his fingers inside you. Your chest going forward as you arch, pressing against Sanji. Whose hands came up, happily cupping your breast. Immediately massaging them while peppering kissing along your chest and up

"God Y/N your dripping all over the place" Zoro says from beind you.

Turning your head over your shoulder. Pulling your attention away from Sanji who is kissing all over your neck. Glancing back at Zoro raising an eyebrow at him.

There he was in all his glory. His tan looked great in this lighting. With his green hair messed up. Pieces of his hair sticking up in the air here and there. Zoro was a sight for sore eyes truly. And here he was behind you stroking himself in one hand, while the other fingers in and out of you. You back arching trying to take more of the swordsman. Fingers were not gonna be enough, you thought to yourself as you moved back and forth on his fingers.

"Could y-you blame me?" you say looking straight back at Zoro. Turning your head back to face Sanji. The cook holding you up in his lap. His arms wrap around your back. Your right tit in his mouth. The blonde hugging you closer to his naked frame. Soon feeling Zoros fingers leave you. Disappointment washes over you but knowing you're about to have way more fun.

You began to rock your hips against Sanji again teasing him as his cock slides past your entrance. Both let moans fall from your lips. Until Sanji lets out a louder moan as he whines "IDIOT, at least tell me when your gonna put a finger in!"

"You knew this would end up happening you idiot!" Zoro fires back

You glance back to see Zoro inserting his fingers into Sanji's hole. Pumping his fingers very slowly in and out. Noticing he using the same finger he used for you. You felt yourself dripping even more against Sanji at the thought of your slick being used as lube for Sanji.

Your perverted mind grows hazy as you keep rocking against his bare cock. Watching him lean back. His shoulders hit the wall as he was slouched on the counter. You leaned further down taking Sanjis left nipple in your mouth sucking on the area. Your right-hand finds the other one, pinching and teasing the nub

Sanji was in pure bliss having you grind against him coating you with his slick. Getting pampered all over by you and Zoro. Now with Zoros two fingers dipping in and out of him. Moans flowing from the three of your mouths.

Zoro soon entered himself into Sanji who took some time to get adjusted to the feeling of Zoros hardened cock inside of him. You helped the cook by comforting him with kisses all over and you whispered how good he was. Mentioning how good boys get good rewards. Which was him being allowed inside of you. You never held it above Sanji's head though. Since you had a big soft spot for the chef and often gave in. Always wanting to be able to pleasure the hard-working blonde.

When Sanji got comfortable, he felt your hand grab the base of his cock slowly aligning yourself right above it.

"Enjoy your reward for being so hard-working, chef~" you coo into his ear as you lower yourself onto his hardened length. Letting out a moan adjusting to the size of Sanji. Your hands wrapping around his neck trying to find comfort from the passing pain. Sanjis's hands lift to cup your face as he kisses you slowly. Like he's trying to distract you from the pain like you did for him

You can feel zoros large hands on your thighs drawing small circles with his thumbs hoping to comfort you. While kissing Sanji you felt one of his hands drop settling on your hip. Helping you sink further down onto him. Feeling your warmth spread open around him. Feeling the shape of his length inside of you. You moan as Sanjis's body begins rocking back and forth due to Zoro starting to thrust into the chef. The movement of Sanji's body caused you to also move back and forth on Sanji.

"Oh f-fuck you both feel amazing" sanji moans from underneath you.

You could hear Zoro let out a soft chuckle. And in this moment it was one of the sexiest things Zoro could've done at a time like this. Everything was a turn-on to you. Your pace begins to pick up as you ride Sanji. Using what strength you have to lift yourself up and down. Your hands planted on Sanji's waist dragging them up his stomach to plant on his chest. Your nails slightly dug into his skin as you use his chest to stabilize yourself and you lazily bounced on his dripping cock.

From behind you feel Zoros arms wrap around you. As he plunges in and out of Sanji's aching hole. He needed something to ground him as well. And you were perfect as his hands wrapped around your torso. Zoro lets you lean back onto him not needing to dig into Sanji's chest no more. Zoros hands at your waist lifting you up and down. Doing all the work for you. Allowing you to gain your energy back slowly. Zoro lifted you up and down on Sanji as he fucked into the blonde on his own.

From Zoro's point of view, he got a clear view of you bouncing up and down onto the cook's cock. Your moans grow loud, mixing in with Sanji's whines and the sounds of your juices mixing. It reeked of sex in the kitchen. As the three of you hump against one another. Your sex crazed minds are taking over completely forgetting about everything.

Zoro's hands leave your waist allowing you to slowly grind back and forth on Sanji's cock. Zoro watches his hand travel up across your body to your right breast As his other hand dips down between your legs. Coming in contact with your wet folds His two fingers find the bundles of nerves. Drawing slow circles. Zoro gaze slowly lifts to look at Sanji who’s watching intensely.

“S-shit guys I'm getting close~” Sanji whimpers out slouching further back into the counter. Sanjis body couldn’t concentrate with Zoro filling him up and you wrapped around him

“You’re doing so good for us, Sanji” you praise as you watch from above

“Zoro, why don’t you tell Sanji how good he’s being” You turn your head to your left. Zoros's head was right above your shoulder. Being very close due to his arms wrapping around your body.

“Yeah cook, I think you’ve been real good. Working hard to pleasure our princess~”

Zoro says in that dam teasing tone of his. The one that drove both you and Sanji to the edge. Zoros' voice was affecting you two. And as you feel Sanji's cock pulse inside you. You were sure about your previous statement

“You like being praised, right? f-fuck you just got so tight~” Zoro hisses into your ear at Sanji. Not knowing you had the same reaction to his tone of voice as you clenched around Sanji's cock hearing it

“O-oh im getting close Sanji” you whine to the guy below you. Sanji was on cloud 9. The view of you bouncing on his length looking down at him. Your head falling back onto Zoro's shoulder as you feel your orgasm coming closer. Zoro is behind you with his fingers picking up speed on your clit. His hand moves away from your breast. The hand grabs your face. Turning it to the left, making you look directly at him as he was quick to take your lips.

As you lean back onto Zoro your head turned to the side making out with the male that was behind you. You can feel zoros pace pick up from behind as he pumps into Sanji. His chest knocks into your back as you lean onto him. Your hips thrusting upwards taking full advantage of the support you were getting from Zoro's frame.

You and Zoro pulled away from the kiss turning your gaze down to the guy beneath both of them. Sanji felt like prey under you eyes. The two of you had hunger written all over your faces. As you both fucked Sanji relentlessly. One of Sanji's arms came up to cover his eyes. Avoiding the gaze of the two who were running him like nothing.

“Sanji, my love, don’t hide~” you pur

Your hand moves his arm away from his eyes as you lean over him. Your hand on his left cheek as you kiss along his jaw on the right side. Leaning back slightly to look him in the eyes

“I want you to see how good you make us feel~” you coo as you sit back up leaning up against Zoro again. The two of you taking full control of the cook. Sanjis whines were loud. Zoros groans about getting close. You moaned praises to the two boys as you reached your high

“Y-Y/N im nngh cumming~” Sanji whines loudly as his hands on your waist tighten. Releasing his load inside of you. His head tilts back with his mouth wide open. Thrusting up trying to ride through his high His legs try to close together but are blocked by Zoros's body.

“You two are doing so well, I’m g-gonna cum too” you moaned, feeling your walls clench around his length. as your head flies back onto Zoro's shoulder. Your body shudders from the high of the orgasm. Soon slowly leaning forward onto Sanji. Leaning in to kiss him. Giving him comfort as he settles down from his first orgasm. Knowing Zoro is close and with the way Sanji was moaning you knew he was too.

You smile as Sanji moans into your mouth while you make out. Your right hand slowly slides down his torso testing to see if he's not too sensitive. As you touch his length gently. His hips thrusting up into your hand and a head nod from Sanji as you kiss was more than enough confirmation to continue.

As your hand wraps around Sanji's hardening length you pump your hand up and down his cock. Drawing more moans out of him as you pick up the pace. The blonde's lips find their way to your breast alternating between the two. Moaning between him sucking and kissing all over you.

"S-shit Im gonna cum a-again-" Sanji was cut off by his orgasm. Head falling back again as he reaches his second high as you pump his member and Zoro soon releasing his load not too long after.

"S-hit i'm c-close" Zoro groans out as he reaches his high

His body leans forward onto yours as you lean on Sanji. You sandwiched between the two. The three of you panting in silence. Trying to catch your breath

“This counter is gonna need some intense cleaning” you speak up in the middle of silence. Pushing your body up signaling to Zoro to get off you. He stands up straight now feeling whole after the intense orgasm.

You sit up slowly pulling yourself off Sanji. Standing back on the floor in front of the counter. Standing between Sanji's legs like earlier. You smile as you pat the cook's thigh

“Come on there's a party to attend,” you say to Sanji turning around to walk away but Zoro was standing in your way.

"I think we have time for one more don't you think, curly brows?" Zoros eyes looking behind you meeting with Sanjis

"I think you might finally be right about something, moss head" Sanji chimes from behind you. Zoro leans down to capture your lips. His hand goes into your hair, finding the back of your neck. Deeping the kiss his hands lifted you once more but now instead of straddling his Sanjis lap. Your back is towards him. Sanji lined himself up with your back entrance slowly inserting himself. You wince adjusting to his size. As Zoro pulls away from the kiss, you both look down as he inserts himself into you. Watching his hardened cock disappear back and forth into you.

"i-I don't think I'm gonna l-last long this round" you whine out, which soon turns to loud moans mixed with curses being thrown around. Shit, fuck, you name it.

The three are completely captivated by the feeling of another orgasm forming. The two guys thrusting up into you. As you now lean back onto Sanji who holds your waist with one hand the other teasing your clit. Your legs spread wide open in the air. Zoros arms are hooked at your knees. Your hands clawed at Zoros's body trying to find something to hold with how intense this orgasm was already feeling.

One after the other you, Zoro, and Sanji ended up finishing around the same time. This time taking an even longer break before standing up. Feeling extra worn out this time. The 3 of you slowly gather yourself and get dressed. You all take turns washing your hands, Sanji even getting a cup out of the cabinet for some water. The first to break the silence was Zoro

"Does the party still have booze?" he questions

"uhm. Well earlier they seemed to still be serving drinks so I don't see why not" you reply looking up at the moss head while drying off your hands

"yeah i might take a nap before i go to the party" zoro mentions

"I could go for a nap right now, what about you sanji?" you say, as you turn your head to look at the cook.

"With you, my love? of course" Sanji coos while smiling down at you

"Don't try to cuddle with me you pervert cook" Zoro teases while making his way out of the kitchen. Most likely leading you three to the men's quarters for the nap. Which might just turn into a whole night's rest, to be honest

"AS IF YOU IDIOT" Sanji yells chasing Zoro out the door to argue over something silly. The arguing often turns to normal conversations after time. You follow behind the two watching the way they walk down the stairs.

You stand at the top as they descend watching Sanji leaning over while walking holding his stomach. Zoros's head shakes from side to side, his shoulders going up and down. Watching the two reach the bottom of the step as they laughed about some joke you didn't catch. You never knew what you were with the two.

Eventually, you wanted to figure it out. All you knew was that at this moment, this was the closest thing to happiness. Seeing two of your favorite people laughing together. Joking through it all as if they don't argue constantly.

Picking up your pace you feel your body bloom with warmth at night tucked together with Sanji and Zoro

The end. Sorry i write a lot. I cant just end my stories short or without detail. THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE LIKES. I only posted because i thought maybe one or two people would like my idea. But so far 30 of you liked it. I knew yall were freaky (i forget tumblr people lowkey freaky.. me asff) While writing this i found out i cant write smut lowkey ermm. this was stressful but im glad i found out about tumblr drafts this shit handy.

me rn-

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

it flows and it flows and it flows

cw. selfship-coded, f!reader (no specified anatomy), pre-canon, pre-relationship, childhood friend au, reader eats a defined devil fruit, love as sacrifice, denial of feelings + mutual pining, vulture culture mention

pairing. portgas d. ace x black!fem!reader

synopsis. as a hydrophiliac, eating a devil fruit is a horrifying thought. as a pirate, eating a devil fruit is an incredibly dumb decision. you'll gladly embrace the horrors and stupidity to keep your loved ones safe.

notes. the way i planned on writing something else for my next childhood friend au installment but this decided it would be making a cameo first whoops. cover comes from monet's impression, sunrise (1872) it just reminds me of ace.

For its moniker of Faerie Faerie Fruit, it isn’t pretty to look at.

The name itself invokes the imagery of translucent wings, tinkling laughter and pixie dust at your fingertips. The fruit in your hands invokes anything but the aforementioned. No, this fruit seems more akin to invoking something out of your nightmares with its gray and pruny peel. All the more damning is the way the face of the fruit is caved in, like a woman in mourning.

According to the encyclopedia you’d skimmed through, once upon a time, this isn’t even the ugliest the Faerie Faerie Fruit can achieve. That has been allocated to the sickly green Goblin model. Knowing this does nothing to quell how unsettling the fruit in your hands is to look at. A fitting feeling for Model Banshee, the variant of the Faerie Faerie Fruit that had fallen in your hands on this most recent adventure across the Moss Isles.

“You should eat it!” Wallace insisted at dinner with a sharp-toothed grin, holding his keg of beer in your direction. “Then the Spades'll finally have a power holder besides the captain!”

Ace squinted at the good-natured fishman with an offended pout, leaning over as best as he could with Kotatsu on his lap. “So I’m not good enough now, Wallace?” The gray lynx mewed, disgruntled at the movement and Ace settled down. “It’s nice to know how you really feel!” In spite of his words, Ace’s lips were curled into a smile as he snickered. He blended perfectly against the Grand Line’s reddening sky, carmine and vermillion painted against the clouds.

“Won’t it be confusing to have two banshees on the ship though,” you asked with a half-smile in return, nodding in the direction of the strawberry blonde. At the mention of her name, the woman grinned at you impishly.

“Maybe you should sell it to me then,” the ginger nodded in satisfaction at the thought. “Then I really would be a banshee!”

“You want it?” You leaned over with intrigued.

As quickly as she brought it up, Banshee shot it down, “no offense to Ace, but if I’m gonna be a pirate,” she gestured beyond the borders of the Spadille, to the sea itself. “I want the security of knowing I won’t drown if I fall into the ocean.” A chorus of laughter followed as Ace whined that his eating the Flame Flame Fruit had only been an accident. A very unforeseen accident.

In one exchange, you were brought back to square one.

You sigh, unable to help a few chuckles. It’s only luck your time on Sixis Island didn’t result in you losing your ability to swim then when you unknowingly bit into the Flame Flame Fruit. Being the first to bite into it, only Ace received any abilities from it. As much as he hadn’t been prepared to eat the thing, however, you can admit it is an ability that suits him.

Ace is like a flame that draws in anyone lucky enough to notice its glow. You want more and more people to see it and relish the warmth of your friend as much as you do.

That doesn’t mean you want to necessarily join him in the ranks of being cursed to drown should you fall into a body of water. Eat, sell or toss it back into the depths for someone else to discover. Those are the only options for a person who finds a devil fruit.

“You shouldn’t eat it anyway,” Ace told you softly when the conversation moved on to a different topic. “You love swimming.”

You love water as easily as you breathe. It has been one of your best friends since your childhood on Dawn Island.

You remember jumping into crocodile infested rivers.

You can hear Luffy’s sniffles as he clung to you desperately. How Sabo sighed, “Can’t you become one with the water in a way that doesn’t look like you drowned?” How Ace, whose face donned more scowls than smiles at 10, rasped a fist against your head in agreement and ranting all the while.

You recall the cool of the returning tide as you looked for seashells on the beach. Then you’d take each one back to Dadan’s, resting them beside your growing collection of unconventional treasures of mummified paws, empty turtle shells and dissected owl pellets. Seashells and stones were the bones of the sea and earth respectively, your grandfather had told you once, so they belonged with your treasure trove as much as any of your other finds.

I wonder if Dadan’s tossed all that out by now, you wonder vaguely. Well if she does, I hope she doesn’t touch my eggs. Protect ‘em for me, Luffy. You remember the beaming haul of large anaconda eggs you’d painted over after Dadan cracked them open for breakfast. There had been four for each of you.

A yellow egg for Luffy, a red egg for Ace and blue for Sabo before you finally painted one over in your own favorite color. You think Sabo’s egg is the collective favorite of the members of your quartet that remain.

It’s only been 7 months or so since you left your life on Dawn Island but it feels like it has been years. Yet throughout it all, the ocean had been a steady companion.

You love it as an extension of your very being.

And yet…

Sloppily drawn eggs and raucous laughter filling the air when you should have been sleeping flood your mind. Your eyes rest on the creepy fruit resting in your hand once again. You don’t necessarily desire joining Ace and Luffy in the ranks of incurring the disdain of the sea, truly. But-

“Flameo, Hotman,” you say suddenly at the approaching heat and footsteps that announce Ace’s presence before his words can.

Ace grins as he rests his arms on the edge of the Spadille, “how’d you know it was me,” he asks unnecessarily, sea breeze running its invisible fingers through his wavy locks. Your eyes crinkle from how you smile at the sight. 

You nudge him carefully, fingers tightening slightly over the fruit in your hands, “I felt the furnace getting closer and closer.”

Ace snorts, signature grin on his face. It should feel stranger, seeing him smile so much when he tended to frown and furrow his brow constantly when you were children, but it doesn’t. Smiles suit Ace more than any other expression you’ve seen him have in the past. “What are you over here thinking about?” His eyes dart to the fruit in your hands. “Are you gonna throw it back?”

“It certainly crossed my mind,” you admit with a shrug. Maybe if you hadn’t stopped to think about the past, you would have. The fact you hesitated is more than enough of a sign that your heart hadn’t been into the idea. “I changed my mind, though.”

“What does it do anyway?” Ace poked the wrinkly face with a curious finger.

“Banshees are supposed to be some kind of faerie of death,” you think back to your base information you know about the beings the fruit derives its name. “When someone is gonna die soon, they scream and keen to let people know. But that’s about all that’s really known about ‘em. When you think about it, it kinda suits me, huh?” He hums thoughtfully, looking at the thing deeply and you continue on. “Remember when you gave me my first turtle shell?”

The freckled man’s face softens with a nostalgic smile, “Dadan said boys are supposed to give girls flowers not corpses.” You can hear the cranky woman’s voice even now, exasperated at how you excitedly twirled with the item in your hand. She never quite understood your interest in vulture culture but beside the odd complaint, she never discouraged it.

“I thought it was pretty cool,” you snicker in return. “But you probably should default to flowers whenever you find someone you like. I don’t know if they’d be as appreciative as me.” Whoever that person is, they’ll be lucky. You disregard the strange itch in your chest and thoughts of sky blue hair as Ace rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He may think the idea of someone loving him is ludicrous but he’s an idiot when it comes to such notions.

Portgas D. Ace is special and deserves to be loved in a special way. He will be, someday.

With a sigh, you turn so your back is facing the edge of the ship rather than your front. “Anyways,” you divert the topic back to the former. “I have to admit that it’s pretty useful, objectively thinking. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna avoid death like the plague.” Your heart clenches uncomfortably once more, albeit for a reason you can discern.

Ace nods at your words, “it’ll definitely go for a lot when we get to the next island. So try not to accidentally drop it now that you’ve decided you won’t be doing it intentionally.”

“Oh shut up,” you snort but not unkindly.

But he’s right, this would probably go for a shit ton, not that you know how many berries most devil fruit go for on the market. A devil fruit that grants its user the ability to sense death, however, certainly is above the average.

A smile missing a tooth comes to mind and you have to stop yourself from squeezing additional indents into the Faerie Faerie Fruit. The rough hands of your grandfather covering your own as he shows you how hook a worm follows.

Sabo and Grandpa are gone, there’s no bringing them back.

There are people you love who are still here though, your thumb brushes against the face of the fruit. Indented in anguish as it silently screams for the imminent loss of life. You glance at Ace who is content to stare out at the waves carrying the crew to its next destination. You feel yourself smiling again before you can stop yourself, wistful.

You love the water, it’s as easy as breathing. It’s been your best friend for as long as you could remember.

You remember listening with giddy awe to your grandfather recounting how taking you out the bath as a baby was nigh impossible unless the tub was empty first.

You can hear Makino’s panic as you groggily wake up, realizing you fell asleep in the midst of your floating. Your head hung sheepishly as she scolded you, voice uncharacteristically sharp about the dangers of falling asleep in the ocean. “Heaven forbid the sea king was around!”

You recall the shared panic of Luffy falling underneath a lake’s surface, you, Ace and Sabo diving after him in unison.

If you could become the ocean itself, you’d gladly do so and let your limbs dissolve into it and feel the pulse of every living creature residing within.

Another sigh slips from your lips as you look over your shoulder at the sunset-stained gem the Piece of Spadille sails across. I’m really going to miss being in it. You don’t necessarily want the curse eating a devil fruit will bring, but even if you can’t swim in it anymore you will find ways to still enjoy it.

With solidified determination, you bite into the ominous fruit resting in your hands without a second thought.

At your movement, Ace looks in your direction.

His eyes go from inquisitive to as wide as dinner plates in the span of seconds, calling out your name in frantic surprise. “What are you doing?!” Large, freckled hands reach for you and you side step him immediately before breaking into a run. “Spit it out!”

God this tastes awful, you nearly gag but you force yourself to swallow the piece anyway. Hearing heavy boots chasing after you, you bite into the wrinkled fruit once more. Just in case the first bite doesn’t take.

“Um, [First]?” You barely hear Deuce’s confused reaction. “Ace?”

“Can you stop Ace for me? Thanks!” You call back to the masked man.

“Stop her from being an idiot!” Ace shouts after you.

The Masked Deuce smartly decides being neutral is his only course of action. “You guys figure it out! We’ll, uh, we’ll be over here!”

You could squeal from how close he is but you manage to bite into the foul-tasting flesh a final time before warm arms wrap around your waist, preventing further escape. You swallow instinctively.

“[First]!” You pull against how he tries to grapple your possession from your hands. Try as you might, you aren’t able to get a fourth bite in. You squeeze your eyes shut, not that it does much but it does prevent you from seeing what is undoubtedly an Ace with a frown.

“Can’t spit out anything,” you cry before Ace can start that up once again. It is far too late for the man to do anything about your consuming the Faerie Faerie Fruit. “I already bit into the shit three times!”

“But why?!” Ace asks incredulously. 

“Because it’s useful! I’m not giving this sort of ability up!” You stop wriggling, knowing it is redundant when you’ve already done what you’ve set out to do. “I just,” you open your eyes, downcast. “I don’t want to lose anyone else I care about.”

If you were to ever sense Ace or Luffy’s deaths, it will break you. At least you know in those moments, you’ll be able to do something about it. There doesn’t have to be anymore Grandpas or Sabos, not for you. Not if you can stop it. You’ll gladly eat a dozen more Faerie Faerie Fruits if it gives you any ability to keep them safe.

There’s a pause then a groan of resignation as your feet touch the deck again. I guess there’s no point in eating anymore of this, you look at what remains of the fruit. You aren’t sure exactly how it will change you in ways beyond a newly acquired death ping. You resign yourself to eating the rest regardless.

The silence isn’t entirely uncomfortable but it isn’t comfortable either, it just is. There’s nothing else that can be done about your decision.

“You can’t ever take this back, you know,” his voice is soft.

“I know,” you murmur after the last of the devil fruit has been eaten. “I don’t need the ocean like that anyway.” You will find new ways to enjoy it. Finally you turn to look at the man who has been your closest friend since you were 10. You were practically family. Family, that’s right. Family looks out for each other. You are going to look out for Portgas D. Ace whether he likes it or not, you promised yourself this after you met Old Man Naguri.

Even as Ace looks at you with equal parts acceptance and sorrow on your behalf, you think the sacrifice is worth it. It’s bitter but the sweet in your chest outweighs it.

“That’s one more thing we have in common,” you try to lighten the mood. “Paramecia and Logia differences aside.”

Ace sighs but he gives you a snicker of courtesy, “I would have been fine with us not having this in common.”

“Eeeh, you’ll get over it.” I’ll get over it, you chuckle, turning back to face the horizon. The sun’s almost been swallowed entirely by the sea and there are more things dotting the sky than you remember there being a few minutes ago. Your eyes widen at the ghastly image of whales swimming through the skies as if unaware their time has passed many moons ago.

Whales, stingrays, sharks and unidentifiable fish as far as you can see.

A silent procession across the Grand Line only for your newly acquired eyes. It almost makes you want to cry.

“Is everything alright,” Ace draws you back in, eyebrows knit in concern.

You wonder if Grandpa and Sabo’s ghosts are gallivanting about Dawn Island.

“Yeah.”

[thekidonherownn]

fic masterpost - all percabeth

-> my ao3

oneshots:

you can hear it in the silence (you can feel it on the way home)

one-shot that takes place during tlo, the night after Annabeth gets stabbed. (canon complaint)

can the child within my heart rise above?

This was the last time. They would be over to college by the next morning, this was the last time they’ll ever be at camp as campers. Childhood was over. (canon complaint, set after HoO)

in my dreams (I know I'm gonna be with you)

Percy smelled like the sea on a sunny day, Annabeth had never really noticed it until he disappeared, until his smell was all that was left of him. (canon complaint, set during Percy's disappearance)

you know the hero died (so what's the movie for?)

post-tartarus night on the Argo II. (canon complaint)

I blinked and suddenly I have a valentine

Percy asks her on a sunny day, while brushing out the end of her curls, next to his desk. She sits on a wooden stool similar to his, highlighting a history textbook as he wraps a pencil through her ringlets. Valentine's day oneshot. (canon complaint, set after HoO)

I hate you for what you did (and I miss you like a little kid)

The night of August 18th, camp half-blood was quiet. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. So quiet that it was scary, unsettling even: ‘cause camp never was and never had been quiet in the slightest, not until the night of August 18th, at least. Post-The Last Olympian oneshot. (canon complaint)

I know someday I'm gonna meet her, It's a fever dream

percabeth is revising for Percy's upcoming exam, they fall asleep and Percy has a dream. It gets them thinking of their future. (canon complaint, college era)

It's like you're out to get me

Annabeth Chase hates Percy Jackson.

That's the natural order of things. (canon complaint, set during Botl)

hold on to the memories (I will hold on to you)

Percy and Annabeth host the New Year's Eve party at their new apartment- (canon complaint, college era)

you can start a family (who will always show you love)

Did his dad love him? No, probably not, Poseidon didn’t even know what love was. (canon complaint, college era)

when I'm feeling alone (you remind me of home)

percabeth is out in new york for christmas shopping. (canon complaint, college era)

Sweet Nothing

The one where Annabeth isnt so sure about being a mom, and Percy comforts her. (adult percabeth)

Mine

one-shot about the time Percy gave Annabeth the coral pendant. (canon complaint, set pre tlh)

multi-chapter:

The Bolter

When her dad calls, Annabeth turns off the phone.

They'd always been that way: Frederick writes a letter to camp and she burns it at the campfire, he apologizes to her and she proceeds to cover her ears. (...) Her dad catches and releases her, then, she gets caught and releases herself, breaking free of whatever expectation he ever had for her, or worse, them.

-a deep look into Annabeth Chase's relationships and family dynamics, focuses also on percabeth with flashbacks and flashforwards.

[empress-of-time1109]

[Feb special ]♾️ “A Room Full of Ghosts” [Grimmjow x Dazai x Izaya x Portgas D. Ace x Kakashi x Killua x Yami Marik x reader]

At 3 AM, the world outside was still asleep. The street lights flickered lazily, the sky stretched out in muted shades of navy and deep violet, and the only sound was the low hum of a forgotten playlist looping through half-broken headphones.

Inside the dimly lit bedroom, paper, ink, and a whole lot of poor life choices cluttered the bed. The sketchbook lay open, filled with faces that didn’t belong to this world. Some rough, some half-finished, some so detailed they almost breathed.

She sat curled against the headboard, pencil tapping idly against the page, surrounded by the soft glow of her laptop screen and the not-so-empty silence.

And then—a voice.

“Oi, you gonna keep ignoring us, or are you just that lost in your own head?”

She didn’t even flinch.

A slow, exaggerated sigh left her lips as she dragged her eyes up from her drawing. “Grimmjow, for the love of everything unholy, inside voice.”

The blue-haired menace leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, smirking like he had just won a fight no one else knew they were in, “Tch. Not my fault you’re always zoning out like some weird hermit.”

Across the room, sprawled lazily over her unmade bed, Dazai Osamu let out a dramatic, suffering sigh.

“How cruel, ignoring us like we’re nothing more than figments of your imagination… Oh, the pain, the agony, the unbearable loneliness—!”

“Dazai, if you monologue at me before sunrise, I’m throwing you out the window.”

He gasped, placing a hand over his heart like she had just personally assassinated his will to live.

Ace, seated cross-legged near the pile of blankets on the bed, snickered. “You say that, but you’d probably just run downstairs to check if he landed okay.”

From the corner, Kakashi flipped a page in his book without looking up. “That, or she’d just replace him with another tragic mess of a character.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Izaya Orihara quipped, balancing perfectly on her window sill like some over-caffeinated cat with ill intentions.

Izaya smirked, shifting his weight with the kind of effortless balance that shouldn’t be possible on the narrow sill.

“Come on, now. Be honest.” He tapped a gloved finger against his temple, eyes glinting with sharp amusement. “You like us too much to ever get rid of us.”

“Debatable.” She flipped a page in her sketchbook, pretending not to see the way Grimmjow and Killua exchanged a knowing look.

Ace grinned, leaning back on his hands. “You say that, but every time you ‘debate’ it, we’re still here.”

“Persistent parasites, the lot of you.”

Dazai made a wounded noise, clutching at his chest. “Oh! Such cruel words from the very peron who brought us into existence! And here I thought we were precious to you—beloved even!”

Kakashi turned a page in his book. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“And yet, I’m still not the most dramatic person in this room.”

“He has a point,” Killua muttered, pressing his forehead against the cool glass of the window. The city outside was still dark, a few early commuters trudging through the wet streets below, unaware that a twelve-year-old assassin was silently judging them.

Yami Marik chuckled, low and unsettling. “We all serve a purpose, don’t we? Even if that purpose is simply… lingering.” His voice curled around the last word like a whisper behind the ear, a hint of amusement laced beneath something darker.

Izaya tilted his head, looking at her with something unreadable. “And why do you think we linger, exactly?”

The question sat heavy in the space between them.

For a moment, she didn’t answer. Just dragged the pencil across the page, darkening the lines of a half-finished sketch—a familiar smirk, sharp eyes, something just a little too real.

The rain kept falling. The playlist shuffled to a song she barely recognized.

Then—

She set the pencil down and leaned back, gaze flickering over each of them, one by one.

“Because I don’t want to be alone.”

Silence.

Grimmjow huffed. “Well, duh.”

Ace stretched, joints popping. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Kakashi barely looked up, flipping another page. “Acceptance is the first step.”

Dazai beamed. “Oh, how sentimental! A love story between a creator and her creations—so tragic, so poetic! You’ll cry when we’re gone, won’t you?”

Killua scoffed. “She’d never let that happen.”

Izaya’s smirk curled at the edges. “No. She wouldn’t.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the bed. “Don’t flatter yourselves.”

Marik chuckled. “Oh, darling, we don’t need to. You already do it for us.”

They laughed—a mixture of voices that didn’t belong to the real world, but belonged to her.

And in that moment, as the rain tapped against the glass and the shadows stretched just right across the floor, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe—

They really were there.

Killua, sprawled on the window ledge now, yawned. “Why are we even awake? This is a stupid hour to exist.”

“Because some people never learned a proper sleep schedule,” Yami Marik muttered, twirling a stray pen between his fingers, eyes glinting like he was considering setting something on fire just to liven things up.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. “I don’t know why I put up with any of you.”

Grimmjow grinned, sharp and wolfish. “Because you want us here.”

That shut her up.

A beat of silence. The rain outside tapped softly against the glass. Somewhere in the distance, a car engine hummed past, lost in the quiet expanse of early morning. The world was waking up.

She looked around the room. At the faces that weren’t supposed to be there, but always were.

Her fingers curled around her pencil, the weight of it familiar. Safe.

A chuckle slipped out—tired, but real.

“Yeah. I guess I did.” She turned off the lights and went to bed.

—

At 7 AM, her alarm went off.

At 7:05 AM, she sat up, stretched, and glanced around the empty room.

The window sill where Izaya had perched was untouched.

The bed was still unmade, but no lazy suicidal detectives occupied it.

The window was closed. No Killua. No Ace. No Kakashi.

The other side of the bed was scattered with pencils, erasers, ink stains—but no signs of conversation lingering in the air.

Just a sketchbook full of faces that would never really be there.

She exhaled, slow and steady, pressing the heel of her palm against her eyes.

Just a little longer. She just needed to hold on a little longer.

After all—

They only ever disappeared when she took her meds.

[hqbaby]

sixteen — this is real

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.5k content. swearing, pretty tame tbh

him: wanna come over tonight?

y/n the love of my life: sorry!! got plans

Suna can’t help the frown that takes over his features as he stares at your message. It’s not a big deal. You’ve turned him down before, this isn’t anything special. In fact, this is completely normal. Did he really expect you to drop everything going on in your life for him? Of course not.

Logic doesn’t stop it from bothering him though. The truth is that he hasn’t been alone with you since you left him that one night. Sure, he sees you around friends but you never really talk because you’re not supposed to be this close. Sure, it’s only been four days since that night but still. It unsettles him, it makes him feel like he doesn’t know where the two of you stand.

“Sorry, Bo, I got plans with Y/N tonight.”

Suna’s head shoots up to find Atsumu grinning at their teammate. What?

Bokuto waves it off. “No biggie, bro!” he says. “Say hi to her for me.”

“Will do.” Atsumu closes his locker and turns to look at Suna. “Ya good, man?”

So he’s your “plans,” Suna thinks. It makes him want to hurl. He hates it.

“Yeah,” he manages to say, already sprinting out of the locker room. “I’m fine.”

He’s not fine. He feels like he’s burning from inside out at the thought of you ditching him for Atsumu. Fucking Atsumu. Don’t you know that he used to cry after science exams? That he had to take his driving test four times? That he and Osamu once spent an entire week finishing a 10,000 piece puzzle while everyone else thought they had died?

Suna slams his head on his steering wheel. It doesn’t matter if you know any of that. All that matters is that you’re choosing Atsumu. Instead of him.

He pulls his phone out and starts typing a message to some girl who gave him her number at a party. She wouldn’t say no to him. He knows she wouldn’t. And that’s why he can’t bring himself to send the message, why he throws his phone on the passenger seat and drives back home instead of doing anything stupid.

Kiyoko reaches her leg out and pokes you with her toe. “What’s up with you?”

You glance up from the lab report you’re working on, bemused. “With me?” you ask. “Not much, dude. What about you?”

She gives you a knowing look. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am not!”

“You’re withholding gossip!” she accuses, grinning as she points a finger at you. “Come on! I need to know what’s going on!”

You put your laptop away. “Nothing’s going on!” you tell her, but there’s a smile in your voice that says otherwise. “Well, nothing too crazy at least.”

“Tell me!”

You start laughing as your roommate hops onto your bed, grabbing one of your pillows while she looks at you eagerly. “It’s really nothing,” you say. “‘Tsumu just kinda sorta… asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” she says. “Because if he actually did that, you wouldn’t be seeing him tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you said no to him. You’re nice, you don’t string guys along after you turn them down.”

You stare at her. She stares at you. You stare at her. She cocks her head to the side. You give a small nod.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims. “You said yes?!”

“Not yet!”

“Yet?!”

You’re laughing as she tries to tackle you. “Dude, chill!” you say. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen!”

She shakes her head, hands on your shoulders as she rattles you around. “You have to tell me,” she says, leaning close enough to make her already-wide eyes look wider, “do you love him?”

“I don’t know!” you say, pushing her away.

You furrow your brows at the words that fall out of your mouth. You were supposed to say no. Why didn’t you say no?

“You don’t know?”

“Are you using me as an excuse to avoid your homework?” you ask in an attempt to change the subject.

“Doesn’t matter!” she says. “Wait. What about Suna?”

You wince. 

The truth is that you don’t know what’s going to happen with Suna. You’ve been avoiding him ever since the night that you decided not to stay over. You still see him when you hang out with his friends and go visit his team, but you never talk to him, sticking to your usual polite-but-not-close relationship in public.

It’s been eating you alive and you don’t really know why. You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, about Atsumu, about everything. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but for some reason, it feels like it is. Why?

“If I say yes to Atsumu,” you say carefully, “I guess things with Rin will be over.”

It hits you as soon as you say it.

Over.

It seems so final, so unnecessary. Surely, there’s a better way to do this. This can’t be it.

Kiyoko looks thoughtful, like she’s considering her words very carefully. Then, she asks, “How do you feel about that? You know, ending things with Suna.”

You shrug. This time you know you mean it when you say, “I don’t know.”

You’re sitting in Atsumu’s car with your head leaned against the window. You haven’t planned anything special tonight, just eating take-out and driving around. Normally, you’d be talking each other’s ears off, but you can’t seem to focus right now.

Ever since your talk with Kiyoko that afternoon, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Suna. It bugs you more than you know it should and that only makes it worse.

“Yer quiet tonight,” Atsumu says. His voice isn’t accusatory or harsh, like he’s just making an observation. “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

You chew your bottom lip and fiddle with the straw of your drink. “Yeah. Just a little.”

He hums. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can,” you tell him quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Atsumu says, glancing over to give you a reassuring smile. He finds a spot near the lake on campus and parks nearby. “We can talk about anythin’ ya want. Or not. We can just sit here and eat. That’s okay too.”

He turns the engine off and rolls the windows down, the autumn air drifting in. There are a few other people in the area, groups of friends daring each other to dive into the lake and couples talking or getting into arguments. It’s a night like any other and, as you sit there eating and listening to the playlist you and Atsumu put together, you know you wouldn’t mind spending more of your time like this.

“Have you ever had to let something go?”

The question just falls out of you. It fills the gaps in the air like it was always meant to be there. Like it was something you were always meant to ask.

“Anythin’ in particular?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

You look out the window and see a girl, soaked to the bone, walk out of the lake before chasing after her friends. 

“A person,” you say, “after you realized that you wanted different things.”

“Yer not talkin’ ‘bout me are ya?” His tone is teasing.

You shake your head and smile at him. “No.”

You catch the way he looks at you. His gaze is soft and warm and kind. It makes you feel like you’re all that matters to him at this moment. Like the rest of the world is just static. 

The only other person who ever looked at you that way was Suna and he only noticed when he was inside you in one way or another.

It feels different when Atsumu does it. It makes you feel like you matter just by existing.

“So,” you say, trying to stop yourself from focusing too much on the look on his face, “have you ever had to let someone go?”

He considers your question for a moment. “I have,” he tells you. “‘Samu actually.”

That catches you off-guard. The twins are absolutely inseparable, as far as you know. “‘Samu?”

“Yeah.” He nods, getting into it now. “In highschool I thought that we were gonna do volleyball together forever. I couldn’t imagine a world where I’d have to go at it without ‘im, but that’s what happened.

“I was so mad.” He chuckles, clearly recalling a fond—or maybe not so fond—memory. “We got in a big fight and… it wasn’t pretty.”

You nod along, the story distracting you from any thoughts of Suna. “What happened?”

Atsumu sighs. “I had to get used to it,” he tells you. “We had different dreams and it wasn’t right that I pushed mine on ‘im. It wasn’t ‘Samu’s job to change and I wasn’t bein’ fair to either of us by thinking he would.”

He offers you a smile, all boyish and a little shy. He knows the vulnerability should irk him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s talking to you. Not when you’re looking at him all nice and understanding and so fucking gorgeous.

You lean over the console and kiss him. It’s short and sweet but it means everything to the two of you.This is real, you tell yourself. You don’t know much else but you know that this—you and Atsumu and all the little spaces in between, this—is as real as you’re going to get.

notes. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM *mic drops and runs for the hills*

[shallowseeker]

Oh, the hilarious thought that Ellen and Jo both had the hots for Cas.

(((It tickles me ever since I thought it.)))

As we start the scene in 5x10, Ellen is playing music, a Spanish song, Oye Como Va by Santana.

It's a party!

(Rrr, flavor!) ¡Rrr, sabor! (Hey how it goes) Oye cómo va (my rhythm) Mi ritmo

They're playing a well-known party game, sure. They're bartenders at a roadhouse, so this is an everyday thing for them, maybe, but oh oh oh.

The interest.

Ellen is maybe like, "We'll do shots and see how drunk he gets. Who knows? Maybe it'll make him handsy."

ELLEN: All right, Big Boy. Let's go.

Now, it's true. Ellen is flirty and, like many of the prickly, defensive characters, deals professionally with innuendo.

But something tells me this isn't a game Ellen would play with Dean or Sam.

But a guy she wants to <OMITTED>? Ahem. Well. Yeah.

And Cas mimics Ellen, holding his pinky out, upending the glasses, and holding intense, challenging eye contact.

And Ellen...

This is the face of "Holy crap." But if you squint, it can also be read as "Wow." Or even "Hubba, hubba."

Yeah. No kiddin,' Cas.

So is Ellen, right in the <OMITTED>.

///

And Hell. Maybe Jo feels something, too. That's a slow, spreading, breathless-ey sort of smile that reminds me a little bit of Mick Davies.

"Whooooa."

///

ANYHOO.

The music (Santana) continues in the background while Dean and Sam talk strategy, and it's clear the music is coming FROM the kitchen, from Ellen's and Cas's little impromptu party.

We hear laughter, and Dean looks up at the sound. And yes, Jo looks scrumptious, but there's also... everyone's fawning over friggin' Cas? He's not even trying!

Cas isn't cool!

Right?

In the background, snippets of dialogue come through>>> ELLEN: "Damn, he can drink." JO: "Haha, Mom, but you need to stop." ELLEN: "Drink up!" JO: "I'm gonna get another beer."

///

Dean shoots his shot so so awkwardly that it's endearing.

(((Watch this, Cas. I'm the cool one. Women fall all over me, too.)))

///

Heehee. I love him.

///

And after all that, it book-ends with Cas giving the last-night on earth speech, but in a depressing, earnest, way.

(((Dean voice: Well, Jo. Not that anyone's asking,but it would probably-definitely work on me. Wish it'd work on one of you, though.)))

///

BONUS: The next day, Jo immediately starts pigtail-pulling Cas.

*fiddles with her hair, dons a slight smirk*

*smiley smile* Then, teasing: "Ever heard of a door handle?"

When she sees that Cas has gone into *SERIOUS MODE* she's rattled. She looks to her mom pleadingly, because...

If someone like CAS is unsettled, maybe they should be scared, too.

[oddzo]

I’m excited to finally be able to share my drawing of my favorite Camp Camp X Gravity Falls crossover idea! :D

A long string of my thoughts regarding the crossover under the pics, you have been warned lol

It’s crazy to me that despite all the jokes that Harrison looks like a human Bill Cipher there is absolutely no fanart (that I have found) of him interacting with any of the Pines.

Yeah there’s art of him with Bill, but the Pine’s family are the ones that have trauma from him and therefore would have the best reaction.

Just imagine them meeting the one kid that not only looks like someone possessed by Bill but also does real honest to god magic and has an affinity for fire!

With how much shit the Pine’s have dealt with it wouldn’t be a stretch for them that Bill came back as a kid. They’d probably assume Harrison was being possessed or something.

Harrison especially looks like Bipper so I’d imagine he’d be especially unsettling to Dipper and Mabel. (Probably gonna draw him and Mabel interacting next)

Dipper immediately being super suspicious of Harrison and doing that stalking thing he does to try and figure him out. Dipper seeing Harrison make a mistake with his magic that makes him not look great and Dipper just freaking out more.

Mabel being uncomfortable with Harrison but trying her hardest to be nice to him because he hasn’t actually done anything yet. Becoming friends when she realizes that Harrison is just a kid and not anything like Bill personality and morality wise.

Harrison enjoyed coloring in that one episode so she could probably get him to do art with her. They’d have so much fun with him showing her his magic tricks, he’d be so happy someone is genuinely interested. His magic would probably improve with the encouragement she would give him.

Mabel being reminded of Bipper whenever Harrison gets a bit arrogant. The thought goes away pretty quickly though cause he usually gets humbled really quickly and just accepts it lol

Ford also immediately being suspicious of Harrison but not doing anything rash yet until he can test him. Losing his shit the first time Harrison does magic in front of him.

Someone on here posted a mini fic thing where they said Ford almost dropkicked Harrison the first time he does magic and I love that (I’ll look for the post later and tag it here) Edit: here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/the-sprog/659871894550577153/i-just-had-an-idea-could-you-imagine-a-crossover

Stan giving Harrison the benefit of the doubt but keeping a close eye on him whenever he interacts with one of the twins. Not outright hostile to him but not exactly kind either.

Stan somehow finding out about how Harrison accidentally made his brother disappear and immediately noticing the similarities to what happened with him and Ford. He probably gains a bit of a soft spot for Harrison after and gives him pointers on random things, probably a few pep talks.

Oh also I know it’s just a difference in the two art styles but CC characters tend to have more yellow sclera and oval pupils/irises and it really doesn’t help Harrison’s case lmao

I can keep going but this post is already really long so I’ll stop for now haha 😅

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: So Afraid

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna learns her power.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: I dont wanna spoint things so just proceed with caution. DM me if you'd like specifics before reading. I dont think its as bad as other things but.... you'll see

3.1k words (so sorry)

Support artists, like and reblog!

BTW if you dont read the lyrics usually i feel it really hits hard this time

I been alone All the years So many ways to count the tears I never change I never will I'm so afraid the way I feel Days when the rain and the sun are gone Black as night Agony's torn at my heart too long So afraid Slip and I fall and I die. ~ Go Insane, Fleetwood Mac

“He’s fucking unraveling.”

Ben is pacing inside the sanctuary, Will leaned against the wall listening to him rant. They were waiting for the others and Madonna, having to perform a healing ritual. As far as Will could tell, she was going to be okay outside the lasting scars and the mental terror, and she was past the point of miscarrying from the incident, but the people needed assurance. They needed to feel a part of something. The doors were opened other guard had seen what had happened, and from what he and Ben had heard from the rumblings of the people, they were nervous. Unsettled.

Will had to set the course straight, concocting a story of possession and torment by demons to explain Santi’s behaviors… which of course cleared Santi of responsibility but still left Delta scarred. He continued to listen to Ben’s rants.

“He’s gonna fuck it all up. Doesn’t he know more than anyone what we’re doing here? He could have killed the savior.”

“And Madonna.” Will reminds him, but Ben turns to glare at him.

“I’m aware of that. I’m aware of how important Madonna is, you don’t think I love her too? You don’t think I’ve spend every night in her bed-”

“Next to Frankie.”

Ben stopped, stepping forward and looking like he might start a fight. He was drunk, and when Ben was drunk he was either madly horny or ripe for anger fits. Will’d seen him kill a man with his bare hands at a orgy for kissing Frankie. Orgies were orgies, but Santi kept rules around Frankie, rules that had been enforced by Ben’s rage he pushed down below his crown of sunshine on his hair.

But then Frankie opened the door.

“Hey guys.” He walked in his formal wear, and Will had to admit he understood why everyone wanted a piece of him. His eyes were bright in the yellow light.

“Where’s Madonna?” Will asks.

“She’s finishing eating, Rey’s with her. I wanted to talk to you guys alone.”

Will nods.

Ben seems frustrated, crossing his arms in that pout he likes to do. ”I don’t like her alone with him.”

“He’s her personal guard, Benjamin. We have to trust him.”

He shakes his head. “We should rotate her guard so no one gets attached. You know how she breaks down everyones walls better than anyone, Frank.” There was a bit more bite than Frankie expected after the close nights they’d been spending in each other's arms next to Madonna, but when Ben was drinking it was always a bit of a guess.

“He’s her only friend. The first friend she’s had since we decided to set her dad on fire. I think we can allow her-”

“UUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH” Ben rolls his eyes and his whole head in annoyance. “Can’t she just be friends with Iris?”

Will spoke up now. “I think you ensured that won’t happen.”

“And you ensured she can’t trust Jonah” Frankie snapped, not sure why he was defending Ben. He didn’t know he did anything half the time.

Sighing, Will scrubbed his face and then held out his hands. “Both of you relax. I’ve got it taken care of. I doubt Rey has any interest in Madonna, but considering I don’t this Iris is putting out with him, we can’t be too sure. And considering what Pope did to her, we can’t have her falling into his arms. I’ve got it.”

Frankie nodded. “Rey doesn’t have eyes for anyone but Iris.”

Ben’s drunk anger shifted to his horny drunk. “To bad Madonna doesn’t have eyes for Iris.” He looked far away, smiling, no doubt thinking of their wife fucking the pretty cook. Will couldn’t deny she was beautiful… it was a wonder she was unclaimed by the time her punishment began.

A smack from Frabkie broke Ben out of his thoughts. “Ow!”

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“I can dream!”

Will was about to shout at them all to shut up when Pope opened the door. He wore a red tunic, reminding Will of pictures he’d seen of pentecost robes from the before. Not as tight as Frankie, but Frankie gained more weight in recent years. 

“Gentlemen.” He greeted, eyes raking over Frankie’s form. “Are we ready?”

Everyone nodded, Frankie doing his best to hide the anger, the furry, the disgust he felt at Santi. He could hurt him, but how dare he hurt Madonna?

Will nodded over to the entry to the church. “Frank, Ben, start the prayers. We’ll come out in a bit when Madonna arrives.”

Pope narrowed his eyes, but told Ben and Frankie to go, watching Frankie’s ass as he walked through the curtains to the congregation. 

“You couldn’t be more obvious, you know.”

He breaks Santi out of his lustful view.

“Hm?”

“Everyone knows you want Frankie more than anything. Can’t keep your eyes off him.”

Santi attempts to brush his concerns away with a whisk of his hand. “I love all my spouses.”

“You love Frankie.”

“I love him, Ben, you, Madonna.”

“You just want the savior-”

Rushing close to Will, Santi presses his chest against his lover and whispers in a harsh tone. “The savior is a part of her!”

Will grips his tunic, keeping them pulled close as he whispers in his ear. “You need. To calm. Down. Breaking her breaks the savior. Breaking her breaks the whole community. You are losing touch with reality and if you do not get. Your shit. Together. Everything will come crumbling down.” He pulls back just far rough to meet his eye and walks forward, backing Santi up until his ass hits the slab of marble they all deflowered their wife on. A faint trace of her blood remained.

Santi was panting, chest heaving and his cock rose in his robes. “Everything I do is for our community. Who do you think got her pregnant? We’re going to save this doomed earth, we’re bring The One Mighty and Strong to earth and Divine Mother will finally let us all be happy.”

“Santi…” Will caressed Santi’s face, enjoying how easily Santi submitted. Frankie was easy. Frankie melts at the simplest touch of anyone who shows him affection. Santi only submits to him. “You need to relax. She’s pregnant, and she’ll be okay. The savior is coming. You just need to-”

“Don’t tell me what to-” He begins to snap at Will, but before he can finish he’s turned around and bent over the altar. His tunic is being pulled up, and when his hands move to stop him, they are pinned down to the cold stone. “WHat are you doing?”

Spitting on his hole, Will lines his cock up at Santi’s ass and leans in. “You hurt Madonna. You need to learn a lesson.”

*

You enter at your cue, giving Rey’s hand a squeeze before he lets go to open the door. You hated this, you hated being out in public knowing everyone knew what was done to you. Will said Pope was possessed, that he was fighting a battle with the devil, spiritual warfare and he needed prayers, he needed your strength. You had to be strong for him. You forgave your husband and felt sympathy he was in so much pain… But why do you still want to recoil when he touches you? You were sleeping in your bed again, but one always accompanied you to help if the nightmares returned…. You never slept when it was Santi’s arms around you

Francisco and Ben were leading the congregation in prayers, praying for Pope’s strength in his battle and you prayed along, Francisco getting up to walk you down to the raised area. You remember, as you always did, walking down the aisle on your wedding day, unable to bare looking at them for too long, finding solace in Jonah’s eyes… Now he was talking nonsense, and you were worried about him.

The other day, early morning, you’d slipped out of Ben’s arms to find something to eat. Baby was kicking, apparently wanting sugar and you hoped Iris wasn’t up. Things were tense between you, and you could make your own pancakes. You had, of course, thanked her profusely for caring for you when… when it happened, genuinely grateful for the care she showed you… You wanted to be her friend again, god you really did, you wanted to go back to singing with Rey and her and Jonah in the kitchen… but something in the air had shifted.

Wish granted, Iris wasn’t there. Jonah was. He was drinking coffee, PJ pants slung low on his hips… No shirt. He had a lean body even at his age, hip bones prominent below the weak elastic and a trail of hair going down-

When the floor under you squeaks, Jonah stands up fully, shuffling to move behind the kitchen table. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be alone…”

“Baby wants pancakes.” You rub your stomach. He’s not looking at you. You make a move to the cabinets, But Jonah cuts off your path.

“I got it, you should rest.”

Your shoulders slump. “I’m not a baby, I’m just carrying one. Let me do it.”

Jonah shakes his head. “Please, just… let me.” He gives you a small smile. “I know you’re not a kid. They should all be afraid of you, Madonna.”

He made good pancakes.

*

Will and Pope returned from their prayers in the sanctuary, Pope looking… Off. He looked ruffled, confused, his eyes a little glassy… maybe Will exercised the demon out?

Pope began his prayers. “Our beloved Madonna, Holy and Beautiful, our maternal bride, has suffered pain and scarring from the demonic attacks of the devil, we must pray for heeling over her body.”

Will’s hands reach for the back of your dress, lowering the zipper when you gasp, jolting away and turning back to him. “What are you doing?!” You whisper, eyes watering with panic. Francisco mutters Will’s name, but he ignores him, opting to pull you close. He cups your face, whispering in your ear.

“They need to see the wounds, Madonna. They need to see you’re healing, they're worried.”

“But… I don’t wanna be naked, Will.” You turn to glance at the crowd, catching Pope glare. You shiver. “There’s people here who made fun of me…”

His fingers lay your hair down. “It’s just your dress, Madonna. Don’t worry, we’re right here. Trust me.” 

Echoes of the past flitter in your head.

I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.

Will unzipped your dress, the fabric pooling down around your ankles. Murmurs wave over your body, whispers from the people who loved you. Were they mocking you? Were they laughing?

Just down to her underwear, Francisco.

Your bandages were off, but the skin was marred horrifically. It was bad enough those in the back could see it spreading over your pregnant stomach. Were there jealous women in the crown? Your dorm mates that didn’t understand why you were chosen?

Will’s hands find the clasp of your bra, and you tense again. “Will?”

“Just relax, Madonna. Relax for me. Don’t worry.”

It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry.

When his hands went for your underwear, you didn’t protest. 

You stood naked, your scared body on display for the whole congregation.

Your husbands stood at your side, each laying a hand on your stomach as the crowd began to pray. You felt like you were being punished, humiliated. What did you do wrong? Your lip quivers, panic rising in your chest again. No, no you would not melt down here. You see a woman who was particularly nasty to you… she tried to make you eat a worm because you didn’t say hi to her when you were 10 and she was 12… You were in one of your “no talking episodes” as your dad called them, the playground was too loud, your new bra you had to wear adding a sensation to your skin you hated… she took it personal, and tormented you for the next 12 years. She was smirking. 

You feel Ben’s hand on your ass, coping a feel.

You think of Will’s lies.

You look at Santi, his eyes only on your stomach. 

You look at Francisco, not saying the prayers and looking at Be’s hand on your ass.. Did you and the baby even matter to him? Why was he so disconnected?

You didn’t feel sad anymore.

You were angry.

“Kneel.”

Your voice, while quiet, makes the four of them turn to you, surprised by you. But no one moves.

“Kneel. If you’re praying for my healing, kneel.” You don’t look at them.

Santi speaks. “We don’t kneel to you, Madonna. You kneel to us.”

Your body wants to shake, you want to fold like you do every time a boundary is crossed but you don’t. 

“I am carrying the savior. I am more important than your ego.” You say, firm in your stance and keeping your voice steady. “Pray to the divine mother to protect me, if you really want this child,” you turn to Pope. “And to forgive your sins.” You turn to Francisco now, his eyes wide with fear. “Get on your knees. I know you know how.”

There was a beat of silence, everyone waiting for Pope’s movement, you knew. Then, Francisco kneels to you. Then Will. Then Pope. Then Ben, only ever following in what the others do.

When they do, a hush falls over the crowd.

You raise your arms, shouting. “We pray for a hedge of protection around me and my child.”

A voice from the crowd shouts, “hail to the mother and the savior!”

All throughout the room, the congregation echos the sentiments, shouting your praises as the smile grew on your face. They adored you. They loved you. Standing naked wasn’t humiliating, it was power. You feel Francisco’s thumb caress over your bare skin. He smiles as he mouths ‘Hail to the mother.’

*

You were running high on the endorphins, even excited enough to ride Will’s dick despite your protruding stomach. It was an amazing high, knowing the power you held, the power to make Santiago- Pope, you mean- to make Pope kneel at your command… he owed you. He owed you this. When Will fell asleep, you were still wide awake, unable to get the giddiness out of your system… So you slip a nightie over your body, pulling panties on and sneak out of the room. Jonah had said he’d make you more pancakes tonight if you were hungry and boy, baby was hungry. Rey, as predicted, was snoring in his chair and you have to stifle a giggle as you creepy past him, bare feet light on the wood flooring. 

The kitchen was dark, no Jonah… maybe you should go get him. Turning on the kitchen lights you go to exit out the other door, the servants entrance leading to the rooms of Jonah, Iris, and the other guards, but when you did, Jonah was there.

Right away, you knew something was wrong. He wreaked of alcohol, looked like he hadn't slept in days and was piss drunk, stumbling into the kitchen so hard he crashed into you. 

“Jonah-oh- I… was gonna take you up on the pancakes…” You mutter, backing away. “But maybe I can make some for you, you seem-”

He catches your wrist.

“I don’t want pancakes.” His voice is gruffer than you ever have known it. Pressing you against the counter, he crowds you in. 

Your heart beat picks up, instincts telling you to run, run, run…. But you can’t.

“What… what are you…”

His lips brush your neck before you can blink, his movements clunky and strange. “I want you.”

You try to push him away, but he’s much stronger. “Jonah stop! You’re talking crazy, you haven't been well, please, just-” Again, you try to wiggle away but his hand grabs your waist. “Just go to bed.”

Jonah scoffs, laughing sardonically. “Just like that? I tell you I want to fuck you and you say to sleep it off? Jesus christ, do you have no survival instincts? At all?”

“Please… please stop touching me Jonah…” You want to stop feeling his breath on your skin. “I won’t tell anyone. Just stop!” The tears come, crying and scared and trying to smack his hands away desperately and still trying to push out of his grasp.

“You should be screaming, honey, what is wrong with you?” His hand grips your hip, and you need him away from your baby, now.

With a closed mouth scream, you kick his shin and the shock is enough for him to let go so you take off, but he gives chase. Once again, you are pinned to the door. You knew you could scream. You start screaming, and Rey, or Will, or any of the others will be on their way in seconds and you’d be safe… ‘’

“Why are you doing this?” You sob in his arms, his fingers entangling in your hair. He pulls on it, and you close your mouth intime to not yell.

His hand caresses down your arm, making you shiver and feel so, so sick to your stomach. “God dammit, have the broken every fucking piece of you? Is that it?” Why was he so angry at you? What did you do wrong? Did you tempt him? He hand on your waste again, he keeps almost moving it up towards your breasts or down to your ass but never going far. Jonah rests his forehead on yours. “Why won’t you SCREAM!” He shouts his last word so loud in your face, the strong smell of alcohol bursting on your skin and you shout out loud.

“BECAUSE THEY’LL KILL YOU!” Your whole body heaves, panicing and you feel you might throw up. “ThEY’LL KILL YOU AND I’LL LOSE MY DAD AGAIN!”

His face turns into something pained, and while his hand reminds gripped in your hair to keep you there, he pulls back just enough for you to see him run a hand over his wet face. Right before he slammed it through the wall. You couldn’t help it, your body forced you to scream before your mouth stopped the voice, Jonah’s fist curling tightening and pulling your hair against your scalp as you continued to shout. He continued to punch the wall next to your head.

When Will burst through the door, everything went blank. As soon as Jonah was pulled off you, your body slid down the wall where you watched Will pummel Jonah. At some point, arms were wrapped around you, but you couldn’t tell if it was Rey or Frankie. Only the smell of weed narrowed it down.

You didn’t hear much, your ears ringing as you watched blood fly out of Jonah's mouth. Muffles words weren't as loud as the beats to Jonah's body. You were sure other people were in the room... there was shouting... but you couldn't see anything except Jonah going limp, only jolting weakly at each slam of Will's fists.

You aren’t even sure how you made it back to bed.

Shout out to @hornystan for editing, our beloved Frankie in his formal wear

Okay. So that happened.

JONAH what are you DOING BESTIE??????

PLEASE leave your THOOOTTSS and THOUGHTS!!! Frankie kneelings? Madonna chaneling hr anger??? Jonah doing... ALL THAT!!!!!!!

What are we thinking?

love you all so much! I know theres a lot of bullshit happening in the fandom but just know, dont trust everything you hear. I know at the very least one person the stupid confessions page is attacking is genuinely a kind, amazing person who was in the right <3 If there is a writer you dont think is nice or friendly enough... just keep it to yourself or talk to a few friends. You dont need to air it out publically.

Lets keep it chill, I say to me and my uuhhhh 30 readers B)

ANYWAY

Im like 60 followers away from 1000 followers on this account and i have a fun event planned!!!

I did this poll befoe, but its been like 10 chapters soooooooo

Save the children (which has absolutely nothing to do with QAnon who hijacked their hashtag) our currently supporting relief efforts in the Congo above our listed some quick facts that I hope you’ll take a moment to read, and if you can afford it, please consider making a donation. I have made a small one, but if we band together small donations make a difference

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

Tags are working like SHIT these days for me and many, many others so make sure to follo wthe rooms on fire tag or my update account.

@winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa @mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg @sub-aro @wand-erer5 @guelyury @readingiskeepingmegoing