#the 'real self' in question = beating him up for little to no reason

[teamsasukes]

the chunin exams arc was so interesting for how it portrayed sakura's potential and how people in her life influenced it. kakashi lying about the team-based enrollment criteria because he thinks sakura would be likely to sign up only to appease sasuke, and being genuinely surprised when she shows up anyway. naruto being completely oblivious when sakura was upset preceding the exams and also after she cut her hair in the forest of death. naruto literally dreaming about saving sakura from enemies, being the hero to her damsel-in-distress. sakura moulding herself into a perfectly feminine lady because that's what society demanded and what she thought sasuke would want. versus sasuke calling her out for focusing too much on romance instead of her skills like she should be doing. sasuke picking up that she was upset because she felt inadequate and reminding her of what she was best at -- maybe even better than him -- and never begrudging her for it. ino hacking into her mind because she was sure, not a single doubt in her mind, that sakura would know the answers to the impossible questions on the written exam. ino and sasuke both stepping in to save her during her fight with the sound nin, but only after being spurred on by the brutal beating she took. ino and sasuke getting frustrated with naruto when he commented on how her haircut looked because it made sakura trivialize her experience and offer a fake explanation about women being fickle. the flashbacks revealing to us that ino affirmed that she would one day bloom into a beautiful flower. ino and sasuke serving as a catalyst for sakura to get stronger before pt 1 and pt 2 respectively. idk do you see what i'm seeing

[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You��re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

[say-al0e]

Hypothetical

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k

“Would you fuck my clone?”

The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.

Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”

A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”

With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”

“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”

Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.

A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”

There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.

Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.

That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.

“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”

“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”

“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”

Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”

With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”

“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”

That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.

Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”

There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”

When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”

“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”

This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”

For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.

The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.

Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”

Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”

Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.

So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”

Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”

“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”

“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”

“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.” 

The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.

Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”

“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.

“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”

There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”

“What?��� Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.

“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”

Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”

Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”

“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”

“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”

“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”

“Eddie.”

Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.

That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”

“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”

“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything.”

Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.

However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted. 

The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.

For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.

“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.

“Can you promise me something?”

Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”

“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”

“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.

The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.

There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.

So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.

No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you. 

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[worldume]

TWO DEMONS AND AN ANGEL….

˖┊ spotlight: yamato endo & chika takiishi.

˖┊ synopsis: (name) is endo and chika's favorite coloring book! they love to bully their sweet little lamb into doing things she’s not comfortable with. why? because they can & its fun!

˖┊ content: dark content, power imbalance relationship, bullying, themes of humiliation, implied polygamy, toxic relationship, coerced piercing, christina piercing, needles, alcohol transfer from mouth to mouth, afab reader, she/her pronouns, canonverse but endo and chika own a sleazy tattoo shop, tattoo artist endo, piercer chika for lore purposes, all characters are adults/aged up, endo and chika are awful!

˖┊ word count: 2k.

“you scared?”

“n—no but—�� (name) stammered under his gaze, her voice cracking as she struggled to find her words. she averted her gaze from him, finding a sudden interest at chika moving about through the room as he gathered a few things around their shop. it was tucked away in a narrow sketchy alley in japan that looked like the kind of place only those in the know would visit— covered in graffiti and old posters with a flickering neon sign. the place had the vibe of a dive bar.

there was a small furrow in her brows and her lips tugged slightly in a glossy pout. no fair.. no fair!

looking at endo was so.. difficult for a couple reasons. number one: he was so fucking attractive. the kind of attractive that made her shy away from his gaze because she started to feel self conscious about everything little thing. did he like her hair? her makeup? the outfit she wore today? but more importantly, he could be just so mean if someone caught him on a bad day— he was finicky with his moods. and sometimes he didn’t want anyone looking him directly in the eye.

she’s witnessed first hand how brutally yamato beats people into a shell of themselves— weak people who he believes test who’s a poser and who’s not. endo is a pretty laid back guys for the most part, but, he has very little respect and tolerance for those who are weak. he thinks they’re boring, a drag and a complete waste of his fucking time. weak people get under his skin. weak people disgust him. weak people don’t deserve to call themselves human. and he couldn’t stand when weak people paraded around as though they weren’t.

but (name) was weak. so it makes her wonder why he keeps her around— why the both of them keep her around.. they’re not laughing at her behind her back right? she helps around.. sure she wasn’t the strongest person physically but she has uses.. or at least that’s what she tells herself.

you see, (name) is a pushover. a people pleaser. and a pathetic excuse for a spine. which is precisely why endo initially took such an interest to the girl— the irony, right? endo was just.. so tickled by it he giggled like a little kid who was told their first joke. he’s never seen anyone quite as pitiful as her. but he supposes women were an exception, right? endo almost found it.. cute? (name)’s looks were really the cherry on top of it all— a pretty little bow to wrap his present. just how could someone as pretty as her be such a.. disappointment. endo almost found it to be a waste of a perfectly good vessel, but.. he found that he gained some sort of sick gratification from bullying (name).

it was fun for him. and something to help pass the time when there’s nothing interesting going on. it was sad really— some of the things they made her do were nothing more than mere humiliation tactics that served no real purpose other than to see her actually do everything she’s told. no questions asked. like controlling when she use the bathroom, a “dress code” that usually consisted of micro mini skirts and the requirement of no panties, making her call herself awful things when she fails (bitch, slut and whore are some of noroshi’s favorites), her mouth being used as an ashtray— the list can go on.

‘how did such a sweet girl like (name) get caught up in this crowd?’ is what all the sweet townspeople of makochi ask amongst themselves when they see her on an off chance visiting her mom. but no one would be able to guess that she devoted herself to these men by choice. (name) felt as though she were indebted to endo and chika. that she owed the both of them all of herself because they saved her.

there had been a night where she had found herself walking alone after a night out with her friends, she was a little bit more than tipsy and stumbled across an alley she shouldn’t have. (name) remembers it well— stopping to pull out her phone for her gps. (name) hadn’t have been familiar with the area so she hadn’t been quite sure where she was. there was a voice behind her and all she knows is that she was being grabbed— she remembers screaming for help and thinking that it was her end. but that’s when they came to help her.

she remembers endo’s eyes that night when he got on one knee to match her level— her eyes drifting to chika who stood behind him. (name) couldn’t have been more thankful, they were her saviors..

that was then but now (name) felt as though she were walking on a pit of eggshells and thin ice— something seemingly so simple as holding the eye contact he was so insistent on made her feel uneasy sometimes which was so unfortunate because he has such pretty eyes. as much as she admired him, endo often used eye contact as a tool for intimidation— borderline a threat specifically for her alone. probably because he knew the only real thing he had to do was give her a look and she would submit— cowering like a scared little lamb so scared of getting gobbled right up by the big, bad wolf.

endo followed her gaze, tilting his head as his eyes bored into her own. he could admit that she was more than a looker— that sad, kicked puppy look really does something for him.

“but? but but but? but what.” it was a nasty sneer that left from endo’s lips as he mocked her. his lip curling in a way that screamed he was becoming more and more agitated by her hesitation— her lack of immediate compliance. this wasn’t their obedient little love— she was starting to piss him off.

“nothing— i just..” she trailed off. “will it hurt..? what if i cry?” she asked, looking up at him with the sweetest look. (name) were so naive it hurt. god— he could skull fuck her right now and he knew she’d absolutely love every single moment of it.

“sweetpea, you said you’d do anything for us. you didn’t lie to me did you?” he asked, brows furrowed as though he were actually hurt at the implication he just pulled from his book of manipulation.

“no..! of course not..!” she shook her head quickly.

“then a little pain shouldn’t be an issue, right? all the fights and trouble we get in for you isn’t even comparable.” there is was— he always did this. make her feel like she didn’t appreciate all that they’ve done for her which was her biggest fear.

“yeah, you’re right.. o–okay.. okay.” she let out a shaky breath as she nodded, a small smile growing on her lips as she felt endo’s hand pat her head.

“takiishi~ our little love’s all done bein’ a crybaby. c’mon.” he said.

chika sits down onto the roller stool, scooting over smoothly while the wheels squeaked over the cracked floor tiles so that he’s nestled in between her legs now. he spreads her lips apart, his eyes low as he watches how she clenches around nothing. hm. was she scared or was this arousal? it wouldn’t be the first time chika’s suspected she gets off on that kind of thing..

“wait— please!” panic rose in her chest, her cheeks heating up as she captured chika’s eyes. her pussy was completely bare before him, her thighs raided with tattoos that were more like brands as they stated slogans like ‘property of noroshi,’ ‘endo was here :),’ chika’s initials, and other dehumanizing phrases tattooed on her. to anyone else these could be perceived as insulting and degrading but for (name), she wore each proudly. of course the first time endo talked her into she had her reservations but she really just couldn’t say no, could she?

“will it hurt?” chika hadn’t responded, only opting in for a stare before endo spoke up once again.

“how about this? we’ll give you somethin’ that’ll take the edge off, alright?” he clasped his hands together before spinning on his heel to walk over to a counter where he snagged a bottle of vodka. “some old fashioned anesthesia.” endo smiled as he turned back around, walking back over to her where she laid.

she eyed the bottle with a look of hesitation on her face— it’s contents half full as the clear liquid sloshed around in the thick glass container. “yamato.. i don’t like to drink..”

“what?” he raised his brow as he twisted off the cap. “you know, you really shouldn’t mumble, sweetheart. i can’t hear a damn word you say.” but endo knew good and well that heard her as clear as day.

“n—nothing.. ‘m sorry. let’s do it..”

“no shot glasses or anything fancy like that but— i like doing it like this.” his hand finds its way to the crown of her head to tilt her head at an angle. he takes a swig of the vodka, holding it in his mouth for a moment before leaning in close to her and pressing his lips to her own. endo transfers the liquid in a slow controlled flow, the alcohol passing from one mouth to the other.

“mmf..!” the taste is awful and (name) told herself she’d never be able to get used to it but the warmth she was starting to feel a few seconds later seemed to help with her anxiety just a bit.

endo crouched down a bit to her level on piercing bed, an obnoxious smile on his lips as he watches on.

chika’s gloved hands aligned the needle, hovering just above the skin as the sharp tip gleamed under the light. his moment is skillfully controlled, fingers firm but gentle— the cold metal of the needle presses lightly against the flesh, the sensation a mix of cool steel and the warmth of skin contact. just before the needle penetrates, there’s a brief pause..

(name) let out a shriek as she felt the needle pierce through her flesh— the initial sensation was sharp, a pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. her toes curled and her hand flew to endo’s dark locks, involuntarily pulling his head back as her body started to writhe and lift at the pain. but it had been over as soon as it happened— chika’s fingers were nimble and worked quickly as he threaded the dainty jewelry through. the pain shifted into a dull ache and a sense of relief washed over her when chika spoke: “it’s finished.”

“fuck yeah— let’s see it.” endo said as he reached for the hand mirror sitting on the tray stand beside chika. (name) couldn’t help the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, a sniffle or two escaping from her lips.

there was slight throb where the jewelry laid as she sat up to look down at the mirror. the gem was her favorite color— she had to admit that it looked pretty good.

“she’s gonna be outta commission for a while, baby.” endo cooed at her. “you like?”

“yeah.. it’s cute.” she giggled breathlessly. “i did.. i did good, right?” (name) asked, her eyes screaming for approval.

“so good— let’s take a picture and show the guys, yeah?”

© all content belongs to worldume 2024. do not, translate, modify or repost to any other platforms.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you please make more Remy LeBeau content? I love that little Cajun man so much! Please and Thank you!

Remy LeBeau x male reader

Headcanons

I’ve had this plot idea for a while, so im gonna try to shake it out my system. I know very little about Cajun culture, European here, so take it with a grain of salt. Sorry for the lack of posting, classes have already been beating me up and I literally just started.

You were your average Cajun kid when you met Remy, back when he still ran with the thief’s guild and before he was adopted by Jean-Luc.

You were a bit of a stereotype when it came to New Orleans Cajun kids. You liked to cause trouble, you liked to party, you liked to hunt frogs at night and spearfish Gar when there were no frogs. And damn did you like messing with the gators. All your messing around did make you lose your pinky on your right hand, but it didn’t stop you.

You were no mutant, but you might as well have been with all the stuff you got into. You always claimed it was just your Cajun roots that kept you immortal.

That was how you met Remy, through all your troublemaking. Youd just shoved one of your friends bullies into the swamp near your neighborhood, and immediately legged it, knowing his brothers would feed you to the gators if they got the chance.

That’s how you end up running right into Remy, sending you both skittering across the ground. Before he could say anything though, you just grad his wrist with your four fingered hand and drag him along, cackling as the bullies’ brothers try and catch you.

The two of you end up in a completely different neighborhood, hiding under somebodies porch as you try not to snicker as the older boys run right past, cursing up a storm about the “gator bait” getting away. And yes, that was what people called you in your neighborhood, because of your hand.

Remy had expected you to immediately fear him or become disgusted at the sight of his eyes. But instead, you just told him they were cool as fuck and you wished your eyes were like that.

After hiding for a while, the two of you split up to go about your lives. But you end up bumping into each other quite a lot, since you both just like to wander. That’s how you two end up becoming friends, even as hes part of the thieves guild.

You end up dragging him to your house too where he meets your mother. Your dad wasn’t around anymore, he drowned when you were a baby, but your mom said you had his fire and lack of self-preservation.

To Remys shock, your mom didn’t mind his eyes either, just accepting him in with a kind but tired smile. He later learns your mom works two or three jobs depending on the season to keep you guys fed, which is why you have so much time to run around.

You two keep growing up together, even if there at times is distance for different reasons. You keep causing trouble, but get better at hiding it, you become real good at figuring out the area, the waters, the people and animals, so on and so forth.

This helps you get your first job as a guide for tourists. You don’t really like it, but they tip you pretty well. You use that money to take Remy out for sno-balls, or rather, its you going in to get them, so you guys can eat them on your backyard porch.

You both gained a lot of scars over the years from the different lives you lived. Youd never asked Remy about the guild, and he never really asked too much about the different scars on your arms and legs he was sure came from a knife and not fishing wire.

It was also on that porch you guys shared your first kiss. It was clumsy, uncomfortable, your lips stained blue as his were green, from the thick sugary syrups used on the sno-balls. But it was still the best kiss either of you could have imagined.

You two never got to explore too deeply what your relationship meant. one week Remy was more distant than usual, before he suddenly showed up at your place, looking worse to wear, telling you he needed to get out of New Orleans.

You weren’t gonna question him, so you packed him into your truck and just started driving. The entire time he clung to your hand, looking at you so intensely, like hed never see you again. But you tried to keep the mood light, joking as usual and playing your favorite music.

The goodbye was one of the hardest things in your lives. You even told Remy you’d leave him with, ready to leave it all behind to stay by his side, wherever he would go. But Remy knew you had a life here, you had your mom, a good job, other friends, he couldn’t ask that of you.

So, in the end, Remy simply kissed you goodbye, and said he hoped you two would meet again. And disappeared into the night, like something out of a dream.

A couple of hours passed before you decided to drive back home. You smoked through an entire pack of cigarettes, so tempted to also empty the bottle of alcohol you hid under the seat in your truck. But you also knew you needed to return to your mom.

So with one final longing glance in the direction Remy disappeared, you turned back around and drove back home, New Orleans feeling less vibrant and lively than usual.

It would be years before you two meet again, and even then, it had been an accident.

You had left New Orleans behind after Remy left, your mom passed away,  and nothing really kept you there without either of them. It took a while before you finally settled down in New York. It wasn’t the same as where you grew up, but it was good enough for now. And if nothing worked, you could just go back to Louisiana and live in a small shed, where you’d spend your days catching fish.

What brought you together, was that your neighbors kid developed their mutation. Something they couldn’t hide, their eyes so different they couldn’t even use contacts as an excuse.

If their parents had been kind, hadn’t been so openly ex-mutant, you might not have done anything. But you’d heard rumors of Charles Xavier, and how his school helped Mutants like that.

So, you packed your neighbors kid into your truck, the same you’d driven Remy in, with what they needed to bring, and drove them there. Like the ride with Remy, you tried to keep the mood light, hoping to just keep it all from falling apart.

It took some time to get to the school, through whatever security they had, and to the front door. Part of you feared it was the wrong place, until the guy who’d spoken to you over the security comm stepped out. That visor made it pretty clear he wasn’t just your average joe.

Normally you’d have left it at that, leaving the kid with people who knew what they were talking about and doing. But they were too scared to be alone, and after some scowling from a guy that looked like a hairy homeless guy, you were allowed in.

Your thick accent seemed to gain some positive or funny reactions, that same hairy guy from before grumbling “another Cajun”. But you were mainly focused on getting the kid settled.

Of course, until you heard a familiar voice, laying his usual flirts on thick with somebody. Remy was still as handsome as when you last saw him, though a little older, but so were you. The kid was introduced to him, and the two already seemed to bond over their eyes being their main visual of their mutation.

“They reminded me of you, maybe that’s why I felt so protective” you just throw out there, hands in your pockets as you shrugged, your voice immediately catching Remy’s attention, who seemed as shocked to see you as you were him.

It was clear you two knew each other, and that emotional look in your eyes had the others shuffling off to keep showing the kid around, as you two were left alone.

You two go out back to sit on the porch of the mansion. It wasn’t the same as in New Orleans, but it still had your heart racing. It was awkward for a moment, you two sharing what you’d been up too since you last saw each other.

With you, Remy didn’t need to put on the plays like usual, he could just be Remy LeBeau and nobody else, and holding your hand with only four fingers in his own laid to rest some of the pain that had been present for years.

You two didn’t immediately start dating or anything. It was more returning to what was before, without all the stealing and trouble you two used to get into. At least, not to the same degree. But it built at a comfortable pace.

You became an honorary visitor of the mansion, since the kid you brought there still felt quite attached, but also for Remy. You were also able to worm your way into the hearts of the other x-men, some quicker than others, but you did it anyways.

Remy spent a lot of time at your place too, and he even helped you move when you moved just a bit closer to the x-men.

Neither of you could really tell when it went from deep pining to dating. One moment you guys just finally started kissing. The cuddling, sharing clothes and many other things that came with a relationship was something you already did, so the kissing was truly the last part missing.

You do end up having to learn better self-defense, being close to the x-men like that. But for Remy you’d do anything, even doing stretches that have your legs screaming since you aren’t used to bend like that.

[kumkissed]

♱ Stretch You Out ♱

C/W: older man(35) x younger reader(25), breeding kink, possessiveness, self obsessed reader(like reader is actually THAT bitch like I’m so fr), major overstimulation, f. receiving , mdni

It’s this intoxicating smell Toji hates…laying back in his seat as his green eyes scan the surrounding area. He can’t even believe he came, finally indulging in his friends to “loosen up” he never even expected they’d bring him to a strip club. The smell of sweet, cologne, and sickly sweet perfume give him an entirely new headache. The low red lights keep him at bay as he throws drinks back as if he doesn’t have work tomorrow, he’s been tuning the others out but his attention is drawn back at the words “She’s coming out soon Toji, the real reason we brought you.” He turns his attention towards the voice seeing Sukuna smirking, tilting his head towards the stage. Toji scoffs looking towards the stage with an unimpressed look.

He’s floored, chocolate skin glistening with glitter as your outfit hugged your curves exposing your cleavage. Your tall glass like heels leave Toji’s mouth dry, green eyes staying on your body, he doesn’t even pay the teasing he’s receiving from his friends any mind. With every move you take he can feel his pants becoming tighter and tighter, the way your body presses up against the pole, maneuvering yourself in a way that makes you seem ethereal. You move as if you know everyone will enjoy it, such confidence in your dancing makes him a little hot. “Stretch you out” By Summer Walker and you are the only thing in his world right now, he shifts in his seat trying to get a better view of you taking another sip of his drink. “Like what you see? Good thing I got you an appointment” Toji nods at what Gojo said before pausing whipping his head towards him “The fuck you mean?” Gojo laughs before shrugging his shoulders pointing behind Toji. Toji notices the sound of heels now that the music is lower, turning around green eyes meet brown ones and his nose is flooded with a sweet scent.

“You must be Toji, y/n nice to meet you.” You reach your hand out, your eyes never leaving Toji’s. You’re shocked at how soft Toji grabs your hand, although his hands may be rough from work he holds your hand like it’s glass. “An honor to meet you doll.” There’s a beat of silence before Gojo speaks “Well y/n why don’t you take our friend here? He’s the one I told you about.” You hum before turning towards the white haired male “make sure you paying me what I asked, I’m the best one in here don’t forget that.” Gojo giggles, nodding and handing you a full duffel bag full of money. You stare at the duffel bag then back at Toji eyes asking(telling) him to carry it, you don’t even give him time to react before walk away. Toji doesn���t even speak before grabbing the bag, smirking at his friends and following you.

There’s no conversation between you two, as you lead him to your private room. He’s in awe once again, Polaroids of yourself littered over the wall, a couch on by wall, and a big vanity across from the holding all of your makeup and perfume. “It’s what I get for being one of the best, you should be honored” Toji scoffs “For somebody as short as you, you got a lot of attitude” You shrug grabbing his hand leading him to the couch “For a man with a kid, you’re in a strip club?” You chuckle sitting next to him, shedding yourself of your heels before sitting your painted white toes on Toji’s lap. He’s curious, how does this little cutie know so much about him? Before he can even ask a question, you press your feet down adding pressure on his clothed dick. Yeah…this is gna be a night.

——-

A/N: yes there will be a part 2 i just wanted to release this to come backkkk, send ur req, ttm, cause im bacck 🌸

[mooreaux]

Silly questions ahoy. Sorry not sorry.

Who fell first, Deirdre or Gale?

Who fell harder?

Were there any things outside of the main romance plot beats that they had to overcome?

Do they have a Big Waterdhavian Wedding?

Well here is a real time pic of them realizing simultaneously that they were already neck deep in a romance without having clocked it up until that very moment

So much more rambling under the cut!

Deirdre and Gale started off as respectful colleagues. He had his little ‘o wow a warlock huh’ and she had her little ‘yeah what of it wizard boy?’ Both incredibly polite about it of course. They gravitated to one another immediately because they are both well read and spoken and kinda looked at the rest of their companions like

So in actuality they buddied up and then got teased relentlessly for being like an old married couple when neither one of them was even in the realm of romantic attraction. Gale because…. Bomb In Chest. And Deirdre having an internal incredibly well hidden behind bardic shenanigans PTSD nightmare from the horrors she witnessed during her imprisonment in Menzoberranzan.

It was only when they started sharing their magic; the weave scene, and the pic above with Dede sharing some fey vibes, that they started to shift from platonic to romantic. I would say Gale fell a little harder and faster because he just seems like that kind of person to me? Like he knows all the reasons he shouldn’t and that kinda unconsciously eggs him on even more. I’d say the crisis with Mystra’s order thru Elminster pushed them both into taking the step of actually admitting feelings tho. Dede couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Especially to himself.

As for the last two questions… yeah. Gale’s big grand gestures got them into a bit of hot water during and post game. His constant need to prove himself worried Deirdre a lot about his self worth beyond what he could do for her. She had to go through a lot of talks with him to let him know he was enough. Just him. As he was. No magic or pageantry even tho she loves that about him too.

And of course, Dede has a TON of intimacy issues. A lot was done to her without her consent thru her life. Tadpole being the most recent offense. So she doesn’t really like surprises and has a hard time letting people in. Which is funny considering how bright and bombastic her personality is. She uses it mainly to cover the hurt. Not to say she isn’t well adjusted. She spent many many years with her patron working thru the stuff the lolthsworn drow did to her. Tadpole just kinda inflamed the wound again.

So yeah! I think it was actually several years before he even proposed. And several more after that until they got married. But the wedding was HUGE. Her family is gigantic and they have a wide social circle with the folk of Waterdeep, and Baldur’s Gate, and the Druid Grove which they still frequently visited. Gale went above and beyond constructing a castle out of flowers just for the occasion (dedes Patron helped).

Thank u so much for the ask Harding! I love my gnome gal (and i luv urs too)

[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) reader || Chapter: 08 ୨୧

 PREV || 08 Klepto || NEXT

Last year, the strangest sequence of events altered [Name’s] life. It was a day like any other, beginning with countless possibilities. An inevitable build-up to the perfect moment, fate, which could have led to anything, led to him.

"Akio! It's good to see you, I'm on an assignment. Could you do me a favor and answer some questions?" [Name] greeted him with a smile.

Akio scoffed in reply he looked the [h/c]-haired girl up and down. "Spare me the trouble and tell me who reported me. My dad invests a ton of money into this school... so this conversation won't get you anywhere."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't act clueless, it's annoying just cut to it." Akio yanked [Name’s] bag off her shoulder. "Unless you tell me who sent you, I won't be giving this back."

[Name] felt so out of the loop. Akio hadn't been apprehensive towards her before. "Gakushuu sent me. I only need to collect a student survey." He quickly backtracked in an attempt to cover up his self-incriminating tone "Of course he did... forget this, I don't need Asano getting mad at me for bothering his girlfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend and you don't have to be so hostile towards me, if you don't want to participate it's alright."

"Not your boyfriend?" Akio laughed as if it were the most ridiculous statement he'd heard come out of anyone's mouth. He blocked out anything else she'd said and honed in on that.

"The entire school knows the real reason you're in council."

She felt her heart sink. "Are you trying to insinuate something?"

[Name] shouldn't care, it's only a rumor. Still, it was hard not to when a good amount of the student body targeted her on how she didn't deserve her position. No one else in the Big Six had to take the backlash she did. It wasn't fair. Why did people assume the worst?

This was the first time someone had the guts to say it directly to her. She worked hard for her spot but her success was attributed to some guy going and "handing" it to her.

Just as she was about to wack Akio with the clipboard in her hand, Akio held his breath. A tall red-haired guy wearing a dress-code-violating uniform and a creepy smile was standing right behind him.

[Name] stared at the stranger's face a little longer, oh- that's the guy Asano constantly complains about!

He grabbed Akio's shoulder in an overly friendly manner. "Did you think you'd get away from me?" Karma's voice dripped with confidence, he was confrontational and clearly didn't run away from a fight. A weird guy, his tone was friendly; the same way you'd talk to an old friend. It was comforting in an uncomfortable way, his words didn't match his attitude at all.

The life drained from Akio's face, he went pale and rigid.

"I'm having trouble deciding what to do. I could beat your face in before I take the wallet back, or you can give me everything you have on you, clothes and all. You can keep the underwear."

"You can have it back! I swear I didn't take money out of it!"

"You're funny, I don't just want it back. Not after you made me run around the block ."

Akio dropped everything he had on the floor, Nagisas wallet, [Names] bag, his pants... Karma laughed at the sight of Akio running off like his life depended on it.

It was a cute laugh, a little maniacal considering the circumstances, but cute.

"This is like hitting the lottery... Nagisa had 10 bucks in that old thing- That blockhead carries hundreds!" He was excitedly talking to himself like a child opening an early Christmas gift.

"Karma! There you are! I finally caught up. Huh? Where'd Akio go? God, please don't tell me you actually killed him..."

Nagisa was holding his stomach for support, completely out of breath and a few minutes late. He must've gotten lost while Karma was chasing Akio.

"Even better, check this out!"

He tossed both wallets to Nagisa, Then Karma opened up [Names] bag and started rummaging through it.

[Name] spoke up softly, even though the belongings were hers she felt pretty out of place after watching the whole ordeal go down. She wasn't keen on being next.

"Hi um, that's my stuff."

Karma gave her a suspicious glance out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you trying to rip my steal?"

She shook her head no in rapid motion.

Nagisa gave a panicked expression, "Karma don't be rude! She's in our class, she always brings that bag."

Karma furrowed his eyebrows in response, "Really? I never noticed ya."

He tossed the bag back into [Names] arms, "Heads up." She dropped her clipboard when meaning to catch her bag.

"What's that stack of papers for?" Nagisa asked while picking the board back up.

"It's just a survey I'm having people fill in for the school."

Karma tapped his open palm with his balled-up fist, a lightbulb moment, "Now I remember you! You're the square's girlfriend!" A little late, but at least he had some sort of recollection of [Names] existence.

[Name] was visibly taken aback, he did not just say that.

"Seriously where did that rumor come from? Asano would put a bullet in his head before going out with me."

Nagisa gave an awkward chuckle, clearly, he was only being polite. "Sorry about Karma, we can answer the survey if you still need people."

"You'd do that for me? Thank you! I have like fifty more to collect."

"Anytime, it's no problem!"

It was a really sweet gesture until the mood got spoiled by the delinquent behind him who didn't share the same enthusiasm.

"Do I have to? There are plenty of other people to choose from."

While Nagisa started going through and checking boxes [Name] couldn't help but focus on Karma. In contrast to his perfect hair and face his uniform was completely wrong. He could get into trouble if a teacher notices then it'll become a bigger problem than it has to be.

[Name] took a step closer and began to fix his outfit the best she could. She straightened up his blazer and buttoned up his collared shirt.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself as she lectured him about cleaning up his look. He focused on her hands. "Your shirt's unbuttoned, the blazers on wrong and I have an extra tie in my locker so you can have mine if you want."

He smiled and gave her a weird look, "No thanks I'm not a big fan, ties are suffocating."

He'd gotten told off millions of times by the councilors and teachers over dress code but this was the first time a girl his age nagged him about it. What was her deal? "Sorry if I sound pushy, I'm only looking out for you."

Looking out for him, that's a first.

"Nah it's okay, your shoes are untied by the way."

She looked down to check completely forgetting they didn't have laces. "Hm? But they aren't."

He laughed again, this time not like a sadistic weirdo. "Made you look! Are you always that gullible?"

Back then, [Name] and Karma didn't know they'd eventually become the most important people to one another.

He's always there when she needs it, that's what sets him apart from anyone else. [Name] thinks this makes her over-reliant, and needy. She hopes he won't grow sick of her. In that way they're the perfect pair, behind his poker-faced facade Karma is worrying about the same thing, hopefully, she never gets sick of him.

[rocksibblingsau]

how do each leader feel about before and after he got amnesia?

Poppy: Before she was identical to her canon self from movie one, hopeful to talk things out with Branch. She didn't believe he was stealing the strings. Maybe he was just so bad at singing that he needed all the help he can get to get better!

After amnesia she thinks it's the perfect chance to befriend him! She's a bit blind to a lot of the concerning things until they're pointed out to her, and even then she tends to brush it off.

Delta Dawn: She just about wanted his head on a spit after he stole the string. She jumped to a few conclusions and thought he represented all of Pop before she found out he was going to destroy Pop as well.

She initially assumes he's faking amnesia, but like everyone else she comes to conclusion it's real when they see how Branch is acting. She's not initially on board the 'fake it til you make it' plan, but more because she doesn't care to get to know him. She's concerned about him pretty quickly though when she catches some trolls giving him some pretty backhanded compliments and she has to send them running. She ends up hating the plan because Branch is putting a lot of trust in her and confiding in her (even asking her if the old him saw her like a mother because he's getting those vibes from her) and she feels like its too much even towards a villain like Branch.

King Trollex: Branch took the string from him by grabbing Beat Drop and telling him to give up the string or else, which put him in pretty bad graces with Trollex. Trollex had no way to know if Branch had been serious about hurting Beat Drop or not (he wasn't, he was bluffing the whole time), and he didn't like fearing for his little buddy's life like that.

Trollex also thinks Branch is faking at first, but he notices pretty fast that Branch carries himself VASTLY differently. He's pretty unsettled at first by Branch's new happy attitude because it looks unnatural on him but it's VERY clearly honest. He's not on board with the plan because Techno Trolls value honesty to a high degree (to the point they can appear rudely honest) and he'd rather they just tell Branch that he used to be evil and if he remembers where the strings are then to tell them.

He ends up also feeling guilty as he can see some Synth qualities in the new Branch, and he wouldn't want someone to take advantage of Synth the same way they are with Branch. He also finds he likes Amnesiac Branch, which he feels guilty about as well since he views Amnesiac Branch as not an actual person, and he would hate if he found out everyone liked an amnesiac version of himself more than the 'real' him.

Quincy and Essence: They had conflicting first impressions of Branch because unlike the other leaders (minus Poppy), they did get to see some of Branch other than the persona he put up, though they do know it's possible that was part of the trick as well. They can tell that Branch had a reason more than hatred, but they also don't care enough to risk ALL MUSIC on the hopes of reasoning with Branch. They are thankful that, even if it was part of his plot, he led them to Cooper though.

They were more sold on the plan because it seemed like the safest way to get the strings back and potentially help Branch. They trusted Poppy to know what was 'too far' in Pop culture, but unfortunately Pop Trolls don't have a limit for things like that, they'll go too far. They were the ones asking the hard questions when they saw how Pop Trolls reacted, but especially with how Cooper talked about Branch. They know he's a villain but they can tell this stems from something before Branch reached that point.

Trollzart: Viewed Branch as a bit of a brute off the bat, but also as a dumb kid whose parents probably didn't love him enough as a child.

He ends up forgetting about the plan mostly because he ends up just genuinely enjoying Branch's company. He's probably who Branch ended up forgiving the fastest because it was pretty obvious that Trollzart was just vibing with him. Trollzart also was the only one to not press Branch on his missing memories, as again, he forgot that was the point of it all.

Barb: The things she wanted to do to him after stealing her string and her super cool idea are banned for being war crimes. There was some respect for managing to beat her, but not much.

She wasn't on board with the plan. She claimed she didn't want to pretend to be all buddy-buddy with Branch, but in truth she also had concerns with the ethics of it all. She hated the fact Branch was blindly trusting her and she hated that she actually could see them being friends. She actually was the one person who sort of preferred the other Branch, as he was tough and cool and Amnesiac Branch is a little too Pop for her liking.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint

You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”

It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.

“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.

You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”

On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”

“Do not call me baby.”

“Alright. Sweetheart.”

“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”

“Thank you.”

You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.

They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.

“You okay?”

The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?

“I guess. Why?”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”

“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.

Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 

“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”

He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.

“You wish you hated me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.

Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.

“A parka.”

“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 

“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”

Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.

“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.

“Nice. No panties?”

“I am wearing panties.”

“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”

“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”

“You are having fun.”

“But you’re still listening.”

Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.

“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 

You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 

You laugh.

It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”

This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”

“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 

You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”

You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”

Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.

You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”

“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”

You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”

“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.

He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 

“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 

“Yeah, honey, I am.”

“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 

“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 

“No.”

“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 

He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.

“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”

“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 

“Good job. And too late.” 

“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 

He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”

She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 

You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 

“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.

“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 

“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.

“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.

“What was that?” 

His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.

“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.

“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.

“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”

“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”

You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”

“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 

His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 

Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah? You there, baby?”

You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.

“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 

“Y-yeah?”

“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”

You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 

“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 

It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 

That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 

He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”

“No.” But then, “a little bit.”

“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 

“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”

“Oh? Bullshit.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”

Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 

He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“No you won’t.” 

“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 

You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 

His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”

“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

[punishereditz]

Jazzy Woman

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Plus size!f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Lead up to smut. Fluff. Unprotected sex. P in V. Oral. (f receiving) Praise kink. Size kink. Riding. Fingering. Hair pulling. Insecure reader. Mentions of insecurities and self-doubt.

AN: As someone who is plus sized; this story truly means the world to me. And is a reminder that all bodies are beautiful and that you deserve to treat yourself right. Words can't say how proud I am of this and how much I love this. Now, I could be wrong, but I like to think that Bradley would be into curvy girls. Also, go listen to all the songs! They are amazing!

Summary: You don't think your pretty enough and worthy of having love or being with someone. But Bradley thinks very differently of that.

~

Bradley loves to come to the bar to have a good time with his friends, drink and sing. But his motivation for coming to The Hard Deck changed. He comes every single night, just so he can see you. And if he can't come one night for some reason, he is devastated.

A few months ago, he walked into the bar like a normal weekend evening for him, but instead of Penny giving him his drink, it was you. You recently moved here to California after family matters, to get away. Starting over for yourself. Moving into your tiny apartment and landing a job here at The Hard Deck. Now working every night. You quickly got to know Bradley. Being for the fact you see him just as much as you see Penny. He is definitely a man who leaves an impression and doesn't mind filling the room with his presence. Unlike you who likes to keep hidden behind the bar, keeping to yourself in your own little world. Not making much of any effort to put yourself out there in the open with the extra attention.

And Bradley quickly learned that. He has tried time and time again to try and get you out from behind that bar, but you have turned him down every single time. He sits and watches you stay in the corner. But he notices the small things. Like how when you're working, your hips will sway to certain songs and your head will bob to the beat.

He wants to learn everything about you. To your favorite song to the spots on your body that makes you feel good. Thats why, tonight, he is determined to do just that. Not going to leave this bar until he has the real you having a conversation with him. Even better if you go home with him. But, for now he will more than happy just to have a pure conversation with you. Anything to know more about you.

"Hey." He tries to capture your attention now that the bar is slowing down.

"Yes? Do you need another drink?" You smile warms his soul.

"No, actually. I was hoping I could talk to you." He has a small smile. His hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Okay." Your leery.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go grab some food when you get off. What do you say?"

"I say, you know the answer to this question Bradley." You cross your arms over your chest. Leaning against the bar.

He lets his head fall forward, sighing. Knowing exactly what the answer is, but he doesn't want to hear it. He wants to hear anything but that. The words he gets every single time he tries to get close to you.

"I get off of work to late." And there it is.

"That's not a problem for me."

You sigh. Looking up at the smirking man. Knowing that his stubbornness will not take no for an answer. It's not that you want to say no. God, you want to say yes and spend your nights with him. But you keep pushing him away because you know a man as attractive as he is, could never have interest in a woman with your looks. It just can't be.

You wonder why he does give you so much attention to you. Why he is determined to be close to you at all times. He could go get any woman he wants in the bar. No man that comes in here gives you two looks, but yet he is sitting in a stool watching your every step. Why in the world would he have his eyes on me? It plays around in your head.

"Nice try Roo." You do what you do best. Push him away. Tell him no when you're screaming yes in your mind. When all you want to do is have a nice night with a man you find attractive and enjoy being in his presents. But that fear of yours, that voice inside your head overpowers you. It tells you and reminds you that you will never be good enough, that you're not pretty enough, and that a man like him could never take an interest in you. So, you walk away. Going back to work. Leaving Bradley sitting there in silence. Leaving him with his thoughts.

While you're thinking about why he gives you so much attention, he is thinking about why you give him so little attention. Why say no. Why a beautiful, captivating woman like you shuts yourself off from him and others. He wants to know what you see in yourself. What's going through your mind. What is it that he sees that you don't see? Just as his mind wonders on you, he sees you walk over to the stereo. Turning the volume up. When you return back, you're humming. Your body flowing. The movement of you enchanting him. He listens to the song, hearing Motownphilly by Boys || Men playing.

As he watches you, he has never you seen you so alive. Yes, you hum and move to some songs, but he has never seen a song move you so like this one does. Seeing this, he also sees an opportunity. "I didn't take you to be a Boy's || Men girl."

"Excuse me?"

"The song. You like it?" He raises a brow. Biting at his lip to hide his smile.

"Yeah. It's my favorite song. My Dad use to play it for me growing up." You don't even realize your letting that wall slip. But Bradley watches as it falls.

"You listen to hip hop?"

"Jazz." You correct him.

"Jazzy woman..." He whispers to himself. His plan going perfectly according to plan. "Have you heard Always Be My Baby by Brasstracks?" He continues.

You turn to him. A look of surprise on your expression. "You know Brasstracks?" You say in shock. Thinking you were the only one who listened to them. His smile grows as he nods.

"Wow..." You trail off. "What about Highroad by Sir Woman?" You ask. Bradley slowly becoming head over heels for you as he sees you get so enthusiastic and passionate about something.

"Yeah, I know that one. Musta Been A Ghost by Proxima Parada?" He asks.

"Sober by Earl St. Clair?"

"You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse?"

"Didn't It Rain by Sister Rosetta Tharpe?"

"Oo, Nowhere To Run by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas?"

"It's So Easy by Margo & Mac?" You raise your eyebrows when he takes a long pause.

"Damn. You got me there. I haven't heard that one." He didn't think it was possible, but his smile somehow grew when he heard you laughing. Your head falling back and your smile wide.

This is exactly what he wanted. Learning that you like Jazz and then seeing you laugh at him. And not being able to stop smiling. It's everything he has wished for.

"You should give it a listen." As you smile warmly at him, longingly looking into those dark eyes, you realize he trapped you. That he's the wrecking ball and he just tumbled the wall you built. That he slipped right in and got to you. He paid close attention and found the thing you love and the thing that you could talk about for hours and started slowly pulling back the tape until he had you fully showing the true you. Now you see what he done. Now, you're going to walk away. Scared at the fact that he was able to get to you.

You sigh in defeat. Looking up at the clock realize that it's almost closing time. Not even realizing that Penny called last round. "Would you like to close your tab?" You ask him. He looks at you confused. Looking over at the clock, he realizes he has to get going. "Yeah, that will be fine." You do so. Starting to wipe down the counters but he still sits there.

"So..." He stands from his seat. "I'll meet you outside. We can finish our conversation over some pizza." He smiles at you, and you laugh. Resting your hand on your hip, shaking your head.

"Bradley..." You trail off.

"Yes?" He answers.

"I see what you did there. That was a nice attempt." You scoff. But not at him. More so at yourself.

"How about this..." He walks over to. Leaning against the wood. Getting inches from you. "If you don't enjoy yourself. I'll leave you be. But if you have a good time with me. We do this again next Saturday."

You take a moment to think. Looking away from those burning eyes. You know you will enjoy it. You don't want to admit it, but you loved talking to him. How easy it was. Talking about the things you love. Hell, he made you laugh and smile even.

"You get one chance, Bradley. And that's it." You say firmly, pointing your finger at him. You walk away. Getting your coat. Talking with Penny, her telling you that she's got it, and she can finish closing up. Telling you to go have a good time. So, you get your things. Getting in Bradley's Bronco. Driving you both to the Pizza place down in town that stays open all night for some reason.

Bradley putting on the radio and continuing to ask you about what music you like. How you got into music. What it means to you. Why you like Jazz. Such and such. Asking you anything and everything he can ask. Getting you to talk. As badly as he wants to look at how your face lights up when you speak, he pays attention to the road, and even closer attention to your voice. It smooths him. Relaxes him in a way. Hearing you talk about any and every song you know. From Sighed, Sealed, Delivered, by Stevie Wonder, You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover by Bo Diddley to Stay Away From Me by Puff Kennedy, All Good by Samm Henshaw, Foreplay by Jalen Santoy and Love + U by Jensen & The Flips. You all but named every song you had on your playlist to him, and he loved hearing about every single one of them.

Next thing you know, you're ordering the pizza and walking back to his Bronco to go back to his place. From talking to the music, it led to telling stories. Mention a song and something crazy that happened when it played. Talking about how different songs remind you of different things. The stories flowing so nicely, your confused when he stops and gets out of the car, walking over to your side to open your door now that you are at his place.

"Okay. Tell me this. Favorite song from a movie?" He looks down at you as you both walk to his door.

"No. I'm not saying it!" You laugh. A specific song coming to your mind.

"Oh, well, you have to tell me now." He laughs with you. The both of you sitting on his couch. You cover your face with your hands. Your knees coming up to your chest. "Don't go getting shy on me now." He coos.

You sigh, "Something That I Want by Grace Potter." You answer.

"The song from Tangled?" He asks and you nod. "Is that your favorite movie?"

"Maybe." You speak. He opens the pizza box. Taking a slice for himself, then another for you. Holding it out in front of you but you put your hand up, shaking your head. "I'm not that hungry." You tell him. Your already out of your comfort zone. You're not about to go and eat in front of him. There is no way it's going to happen.

He frowns. But he doesn't make you eat. He sit's it back in the box. Pushing it so it is facing you in case you change your mind and want it. Comfortable silence falling between the two of you. He eats, leaned against the arm of the couch with his legs spread. You take your shoes off. Leaned against the other arm. Stretching your legs out on the couch. His eyes traveling over your body. At how close you are to him. How badly he wants to touch you. His mind focused on your beauty. The dimples on your cheeks. How your hair barely lays over your shoulders. Your hands interlaced on your lap.

He brings his hand up. Placing it on your ankle, starting to rub small circles. "God, you're gorgeous." He whispers.

"What?" You look up at him. Furrowing your eyebrows. His eyes come to meet yours.

"You're gorgeous." He speaks clearly. You move your head back like to look at him better. The line between your eyebrows growing and your lips parted. You chuckle. "Ha, no. No. Please, don't do that." You shake your head, looking away from him. He squeezes your leg. "Look at me." His eyes are boarded into yours. You squeeze your thighs together. Arousal pooling in-between your legs. He shifts in his seat. Turning his body so that he is facing you. His hand moves from your ankle up to your closed thighs. He leans over you. His face inches away. His lips hovering over yours. The hairs of his mustache tickling the top of your lip. The tension between the two of you heavy. He tries to kiss you, but you move away. Thinking why the hell Bradley Bradshaw finds you attractive.

"Say it." He whispers into your ear. His hand kneading your thigh. Biting your lip, trying to control your breathing. "Say what?" You question. Your voice soft.

"Say, 'I'm beautiful'. I want to hear you say it." He pulls away from your neck to look into your eyes.

"I'm not saying it." You say firmly. Heat creeping up your neck and to your cheeks. You don't think your beautiful. Why should you say it? You gasp in shock when he suddenly pushes your legs open. Pulling you down where you lay against the arm of the couch. Using his legs to keep yours spread wide for himself. Trapping you under him. One of his hands caressing your side and the other by your head, holding himself up.

His lips come to yours. This time, you don't move away. You lean into him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Lacing your fingers through his soft hair. His hand kneading your breast now, making you moan into his mouth.

"So beautiful." He mumbles. Pulling away from your lips. Kissing along your jawline. Down your neck. "I am not." You stated.

"Oh, really?" He pulls away. "I guess I'll just have to show you then." He kisses right below your ear. Pulling a moan from you. "Show you how beautiful you are. Show you how you need to be touched." He speaks between kisses.

The touch of his lips and the touch of his hands leaves you panting under him. Catching yourself trying to breath normally, your thighs trying to close together but Bradley doesn't allow it. He keeps them open, his bulge rubbing against your core. Driving you crazy, making your head spin like a carousel. It starting to get harder to control your moans.

His lips coming to yours. All tongue and teeth. His hands coming to your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He hosts you up in his arms, standing up. Making you yelp. "Bradley Bradshaw, put me down right now! I'm too heavy!" You slap his chest. His head falling back in laughter.

"Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you." He can't even get the sentence out without laughing. "Put me down!" You say firmly. Glaring at him.

"Okay. Okay." He mumbles. Putting you down. He doesn't even let you stand there for a whole two seconds before he throws you over his shoulder like a doll.

"Bradley!" You shout at him. He somehow laughs harder. Slapping your ass. He takes you into his bedroom. Stopping at the edge of the bed. He drops you down. Crawling back on top of you. His lips going to yours like a magnet. Not giving you anytime at all to speak. Not giving you time to do anything really. His hands coming up and pulling your jacket off. Throwing it to the side. His hand sliding up your shirt and to your breast. His other hand working at the buttons of your jeans. Not being able to get your clothes off of you fast enough. Your hands moving from his hair down to the hem of his shirt. He holds his arms up, letting you slide his shirt off of him. Your hands immediately going to his chest. Feeling his muscled, smooth skin. How he moves to your touch. If you weren't paying so much attention, you wouldn't have noticed how his breath hitched when you started touching him. How his cock jumped at your touch.

You try to unbutton his pants, but his hands come to yours. Pinning your hands above your head. "Not yet." His breath is heavy. His eyes hungry and you're the meal.

"But what about y-" You try to ask about him. About what he needs, but he cuts you off. "I've waited to long for this moment." He pauses. Jerking your pants down your legs. Throwing them to the floor to be found later. "I'm going to ruin you. Make you mine." He whispers in your ear. Pulling your shirt over your head. You try to cover your body. Try and hide, but Bradley doesn't allow it to happen. He pins your hands down. His eyes slowly ghosting over every inch of your body. Taking his time as he looks at you.

His hand moving and unclasping your bra. Throwing it as far as he can. Groaning at the sight of your bare skin. Finally exposed to him. He has you just how he wants. Naked and under him. Panting and desperate. This is everything he has imagined and more. He takes your breast in his mouth. Sucking, biting and kneading. Devouring you. Ruining you, just like he said he would. And he hasn't even started yet. This is only the beginning. He has already planned the whole night. His thoughts running wild like an animal set free to run in a field.

Even though he loves kissing every inch of your body, his patience can't take it anymore. He has to have more of you. With that, he laces his fingers in your underwear. Pulling them down. Diving into your core without hesitation. His tongue lapping circles around your clit. Pulling a moan from deep inside you. Your back arching off of the bed. Your hands gripping the sheets. Closing your thighs around his head. His hand coming to your thighs. Holding your legs open to give him room to move freely. He teases your entrance with his middle finger. Slowly pushing his finger in. Curling his finger at that spot inside of you that makes you weak. He adds another finger.

When your moans became louder. When you clenched your walls around his fingers, Bradley swore he entered heaven. He paid very close attention to your body. How his name continuously falls from your lips. How you pull his hair, how you try to grind your hips against his face. When he sucks your clit harshly, it makes your legs jerk and shake. Your mouth falling open, and your eyes shut. You look down to see Bradley's eyes already on you. The sight of him between your legs, looking at you like you're the most angelic thing he has ever seen, it sends shivers down your body. It sends you over the edge. Overwhelms you. That feeling in your stomach getting stronger, consuming you. Making you scream.

Bradley knows you are close. He knows you are about to come undone. You're the present and he is pulling at the strings, slowly opening you up. "Come for me." He groans against your core. The vibration of his words against you, the tone in his voice was enough to send you over the edge. That feeling getting so tight in your stomach until it is set free and your climax crashes over you. Bradley, helping you come down from your high. He stays still between your legs until he hears your breathing starting to slow down.

He pulls away. Licking his lips. Taking his fingers into his mouth. Sucking the cum off. Looking into your eyes as he does so. Looking over his face, at his red swollen lips and you're cum covering his chin and his mustache.

His lips come to yours. Kissing you as he pulls his pants down. Taking his cock in his hand. Pumping it. Precum leaking from it. He takes you in his arms. Walking around the bed, not breaking the kiss. He sits down. Placing you on his lap. You grind against his cock. His hips jolting up against you. His head falling back. Swears falling from his mouth. "Such a good girl." He mumbles against your skin. He holds the back of your neck. Pulling you to his lips. You attempt to lift your hips up so that your weight isn't on him, but he pushes you back down. Making you sit against him. "Bradley..." You say between kisses. He hums against your lips.

"I'm too heavy." You whisper. Looking down, avoiding his eyes. Trying to hide behind your hands.

"Hey..." He holds your chin. Tilting your head up. Making you look into his eyes. "You are not heavy. I don't want to hear that shit. Now... be a good girl and ride my cock." Your breath hitches at his words. Your walls clenching around nothing.

You nod. Lifting your hips. He lines his cock up with your entrance. Pushing the tip in. His hands holding your hips. "That's it. Just like that. Good girl. Take your time." He speaks between groans. Watching you as you slowly lower yourself down on his cock until he is bottomed out in you. You lift back up, then back down. Circling your hips. Starting to get into a rhythm. Riding his cock. Clenching your walls around him when the head of his cock hits that spot inside of you. Your action making Bradley grip your skin. His hand on your hip guiding you. His other hand moving to your hair. Pulling at it.

Kissing you. The kiss messy, wet and hot. His mouth moving down your neck. Biting your shoulder. Moaning out his name. Clenching around him. Beginning to move faster. All of it starting to become too much for Bradley. Your body pressed to his. Your breast bouncing in his face. Tight around his cock. Hearing his name being moaned. He does everything he can to try and make this last. To not immediately cum. Holding it back, trying to control himself. But your no better than him. That knot in your stomach coming back in a heartbeat. That heat growing back. The head of his cock hitting that spot repeatedly. Making your mind become cloudily. Your legs weak to the point they start shaking.

Your close. And you know he is too. His cock twitching in you. His groans becoming louder. His kisses becoming sloppy. You're both a mess. A mess over each other. He thrust his hips up. Meeting your movement. Starting to slam his cock into you. Pushing deeper inside of you. Filthy words coming from his mouth. His hands all over you. Moving from your thighs to your hips, your sides, your breast, your hair. Touching every part of your body he can get to. His hand going to your cunt. Pressing his finger to your clit. Rubbing harsh circles. Watching your head fall back.

"That's it. Uh, fuck. Come. Come all over my cock." He grunts. His hips getting sloppy. Knowing he won't be able to hold it together for much longer.

You do just as he says. Milking his cock. Your climax sending him into his. "Good girl. That's it. Uh, good girl." He fills you up with his cum. Shooting his seed deep in you. Starting to slow down, riding you both off of your high. Staying just like you are. You rest your forehead against his. His arms wrapping around your body. Holding you impossibly closer. You know as he holds you, that he is right. That he is right in every way. He has ruined you. You are his. And most of all, you did have a good time tonight. And you know you want to do this again. You see now that Bradley has opened up your eyes.

He moves his head away. Kissing you. He pulls out. Watching his come start to drip out of you. He looks up at you. Seeing your eyes already on him. Your lips starting to curl into a smile.

"What are you thinking about?" He tucks your hair behind your ear. Holding the side of your face.

"Just thinking about next Saturday. Same time? When I get off?" His smile grows.

"Yes ma'am." Bradley couldn't be happier than he is right now with you.

"Good. Cause I have plans for us."

"Is that so?" He tilts his head. His words teasing.

"Oh, yeah." You didn't think it was possible, but your smile somehow managed to grow.

Bradley grinned up at you. Holding you to him, he flips you on your back. Tenderly kissing your lips.

[marypaol]

So Close Yet So Far Away

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, self doubt, relationship doubt, negative thoughts, angst :(

Summary: Reader has a panic attack and Draco helps her.

Note: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted a story in a while, it was for some reason taking me forever to finish it even though I had it all planned out. Thanks for the patience. :) And no mention of Y/N if that’s okay! Have a wonderful day and enjoy! 😉

-Also I had to put this gif, he looks so sad! :(

___

She thought they were good. She thought he was good. She thought she was good…Wasn’t she?

That was the same set of questions or thoughts that ran through her mind each morning when his fingers no longer brushed her waist and at night when his cold back faced her.

Was it something she was doing? Something she said and it happened to give him the feeling of unsatisfactory?

She wished she could flick her wand and all could be fixed, but even magic like that couldn’t fix her mental problems. Some things couldn’t be fixed with magic, they had to be fixed with communication and understandings, heart to heart as they discussed their issues, hoping that later on they could at least hold onto their love for a little longer before it was gone.

It seemed these days she was the only one that held that hope, that on her part she was the one who wanted to discuss, not him. The real question was why and when. She just didn’t have the courage to bring it up, afraid to see the penitential snarl on his face or the disappointment towards her to rise in his chest.

She didn’t want that. She was sure no one wanted that. Heck, she bets he didn’t want that but it was something he couldn’t control. Something he had no other choice but to show.

Well, back to the present tense, she is back to the what seemed the cold sheets of lost hope and previous love and her eyes set on the ceiling; not planning on leaving the tiles any time soon.

She heard him breathing softly beside her, and when she was brave enough to glance she saw the slow rise of his shoulders as he slept; his back was still to her. She didn’t know if when she fell asleep somehow he knew and he secretly rolled over and embraced her, or he stayed in the same position the whole night, his body somehow afraid of grazing her skin in any way during his slumber.

It was most likely the second option, for she was sure that she would wake up from something so special beholding her (that something special being him.)

Simply his body facing her would wake her up. His touch upon her skin, for it always made her shiver in the best way. But of course she was imagining all that while she lay in bed with him next to her but far away, almost like he wanted nothing to do with her.

She couldn’t help it. The tears that arose in her eyes were against her will, but she knew the cause was her hurting heart inside her chest, beating the best it could through the pain. She couldn’t be more grateful for it, supplying blood for her body all whilst it stung with great pain.

Soon the tears that were just settled in her eyes were now taking home on her cheeks, flowing like mini rivers and her face was the deep green hills, the water swaying to and fro as the winds picked up.

Her brain started winding, sending thoughts that were so darkened and negative she could no longer breathe properly. Would he leave her? Sure the girl wasn’t as pretty as some other girls within the Magic world, specifically Hogwarts at the moment, but she was average; wasn’t that what she’s always been? Average?

Average isn’t good enough. Not for him. He deserved endless happiness compared to what he’s been through.

Was what she was giving him already, which was happiness and love, not enough for him? She thought so, but based on his current actions of ignoring her and acting like he’s reluctant to sleep beside her, was her displays of affection not satisfactory?

Were they satisfactory, yet not enough to fulfill his expectations?

Her brain was going so fast that it was then this she realized her heart was pounding, so much so the heard it in her ears.

She grew worried, since she wasn’t running or anything, for there was no reason her heart could be beating so quickly. Her lips parted, lungs suddenly starting to run out of air. Her breathing quickened, panicking even more when her heart didn’t stop and the ability to breathe was getting harder.

A wave of hot sweat ran over her like a chill, her legs breaking from the covers abruptly, chest clenching.

Her wobbly legs took her to the bathroom, hands almost slamming the door and fiddling with the lock until it clicked, hands still pressing pressure on it even though the knob already turned.

Her body ran out of strength and she let go quickly, leaning on the sink as she bent her head, squeezing her eyes shut so tightly she saw colors within her eyelids.

Her heavy breathing slowly changed to wheezing and tears, hiccups hurting her chest as her body fought for air for an unknown reason.

Her body flinched hardly when there was rough knocking on the door, the person wanting to come in.

“Loves, you okay?”

The voice. His voice.

It rumbled through the door, not just because he was in fact talking through a door, but also for the reason of his sleepy voice, still tired from his previous slumber.

She was silent besides her heavy breathing still being audible, but even that she was trying to keep quiet.

But of course she couldn’t do so, and since he got quiet as a response he knocked again and twisted the handle gently.

He knocked once again when he found out it was locked. “Loves, open.”

He said it so gently and soft, voice full of concern and love for her. She felt belonged, right then, felt loved and cared for. She walked over to the door hesitantly, hand reaching out and while doing so she saw it was shaking.

She fiddled with the handle with fear rising in her chest in anticipation.

Was he gonna leave her?

The door opened, messy blonde locks coming into view. Despite the softness of his voice earlier, her panic inside her chest caused her to doubt how he would react. She expected his eyes to be hard and full of irritation for I interrupting his sleep, but they were full of concern and worry within the orbs, silver surrounding her vision instead of tears.

He didn’t wait to have a staring contest with her before he closed the door, walking towards her and wrapping his splendor arms around her, stroking the ends of her hair and encouraging to to breath slower.

“I-I can’t.” She said. She spoke through breath after breath, no space between them.

She felt his head nod against her neck. “You can, loves.”

Tears kept streaming. Breathes kept coming out short. Hands kept stroking her cheeks to get rid of the coming tears once he lifted his head up from her neck area.

He sucked in a breath at seeing her in pain, fingers going to her hair and moving it away from her sweaty face.

He cupped her face in his hands, cradling it like the most delicate flower to ever exist. Because to him she was. And it was his job to water her and provide her light.

“Honey, just breathe! I’m here, aren’t I?”

She nodded in his hands, showing him how strong she was. And she’s been told she was by him; he tries to tell her every day.

He suddenly started breathing loud but steady, waving his hand gently to show her to copy him.

She did just that, and all doubts floated away, every questioning thought about their future fading away, replaced with nothing but sincere and genuine love.

Here then she embraced him once more, desperate to feel his warmth. Nose buried in his clothed chest, she mumbled, “Don’t ever leave me, please.”

He scoffed against her. “Leave you? Darling, my heart would rather die a thousand different ways than to leave you.”

-Sorry for any errors, I didn’t look it over! Thanks for reading and make sure to check out other stories:

👇

Masterlist

[myjealouseyes]

I Can See You.

HJP x wolfstar!daughter

Fame!au, a little suggestive, unsatisfying ending. (I’ll fix it later maybe. No real plot either. Flirting, fun, and vibes) situationship/friends with benefits kind of situation. Loosely based on the TS song. (Surprising I know.)

The thing no one tells you about being invited to these ‘exclusive’ parties full of A-listers and their cliques is how quickly they go bleak. The room reeks of entitlement, which you’re usually able to deal with pretty well, but this time there’s nothing to help you out this time. The drinks are mild, no one’s dancing, and the music selection is incredibly trashy. You’re swirl the liquid in your cup around as you wonder how long you’d have to be here before it was appropriate to leave when you Feel something brush against your knee.

Harry. your minds puts it together quickly, with the sent of his colongue. The one that makes you feel lightheaded “You’re late.” Is the fist thing you can think to say as his hand subtly moves from your knee up to your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. (You’ve never been more grateful for a tacky tablecloth) He chuckles at you as if the pouty disdain you’ve greeted him with his funny. “Fashionably late.” He corrects, drawling circles over your thigh. He use is his other hand to take a sip of the wannabe-liquor you had been hosting rather than drinking.

“You shouldn’t do things like that.” Your tone shifts to something slightly more chiding. “It’ll give people the wrong idea. And something to leak to the press.” The idea doesn’t even seem to bother Harry. He just looks you and takes another, slower sip from the glass. You know he’s trying to provoke you, but you keep watching anyway. His hand rests against the glass, his fingers flexing around it as if they knew he had an audience. “We’ve done worse in public, they’re used to it.” He waves you off as he puts the glass down. He puts a loose lock of hair behind your ear, as if you’re completely alone in his hotel room again. Maybe that’s what he’s pretending. “And would it really be the wrong idea?” He mumurs.

There’s a question you don’t have the answer to. You and Harry have been doing this…thing, for months. It’s a very will they-won’t-they-esque ‘romance’ that you don’t think you could escape even if you wanted to. You can’t say exactly when the friendship was lines blurred into more intimate ones. One second, it was innocent flirting. The next you were spending nights upon nights in his hotel room instead of yours and hiding out in his trailer while he was on set.

You’re not sure exactly what you from it in the long run either. You’re content with what you have now. You can kiss him and feel the heat of his skin on yours whenever you want and not risk your friendship for it. The voices of reason whisper at the back of your mind, reminding you that you won’t be okay with just that forever. Sooner or later you’d have to admit to yourself, at him, what you’ve known for years. But for now you could still ignore it. Pretend it wasn’t there.

“Maybe not.” you reply simply. “But they don’t need to know that.” Your hand lands on top of the one he’s squeezing your thigh with, tracing it slowly. “I prefer our tryst be just ours.” He raises his eyebrow as all but drops the glass on the table.

“Tryst? Is that what you’re calling it?” Amusement floods his tone as he continues to look you over. It’s similar to have a cat looks at a mouse. (You’d let him catch you willingly if that was the game.)

“Whatever it is,” you ignore his question pointedly. “It’s just ours.” His hand slightly tightens on your thigh as speak, his eyes never leaving yours. You’d give anything to see what this looked like from the outside. Definitely not best friends doing best friend stuff. Not that the people around you would notice, they’re too caught up in their own self obsession. “When can we leave?” He says immediately. You like that he doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s very open about what he wants, when he wants it. (Potter boy syndrome.) Right now, and quite frankly always, that’s you.

You only end up staying another thirty minutes.

[soultek]

Late To The Party - Roronoa Zoro x Female!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

💚As it's a certain someone's birthday today!💚

A/N: I feel literally late to the party myself with this - but there we are!

Also not the Zoro I ever expected to be writing for but I was just too inspired NOT to go for it!

100% inspired by 'Dance With Me?' by @alotofrandomfangirling. I read that fic, listened to this song and was like "Oh it's all fits nicely!" and then kinda ran with it! [BTW - you should OBVIOUSLY go and read her fic!]

Ahh... and also, for getting me through all this OPLA fangirling @alotofrandomfangirling this one is also 100% for you! 😁❤

Disclaimer: As usual, nothing except the reader character is mine (loosely based on my OG anime counterpart character Zoro!SO) I tried to keep him as close to his OPLA self as possible but I can't promise I didn't let a bit of his anime personality slip in but I have read this back so many times now I'm like 99.9% he's LA accurate!

Warnings etc: Drinking, mention of injury/scars, super mild cursing, established (secret?) relationship.

Premise: With a party happening in the port you happen to be calling in, you and the crew take the opportunity to be social. Zoro takes it as an opportunity to drink, but maybe that isn't the only reason he's going...

Words: 6325

Song Inspo: Late To The Party - Kasey Musgraves

---

By the time we get there Everybody will be drunk The chairs will be on tables And the band will be unplugged We're gonna look real good But we're gonna look real rude I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I'm Late to the party with you Let's promise when we get in That we'll try to get right out Fake a couple conversations Make the necessary rounds These kinda things just turn into Who's leaving here with who? But I just want 'em all to see me come in...

Late to the party with you Oh, who needs confetti? We're already falling into the groove And who needs a crowd When you're happy at a party for two? The world can wait 'Cause I'm never late to the party If I'm late to the party with you

---

Nothing was right. Every outfit you tried just ended up with a sighed 'No.', before being thrown in the corner. Everything else was done – hair and makeup went perfect; you were maybe even quick with those. But this... This was taking the time. Sure, you probably could throw on any old thing and get away with it - this wasn't some fancy dinner, or anything you had to look good for. Just a port with a party. But that was the point - it was a party. It was a chance to be sociable, dress up for a change. It was your thing. And you were late.

Snapping you from your thoughts with a jump, was a loud pounding on the door behind you. It was almost accompanied by a shriek, but luckily you saved yourself the embarrassment of that. Whipping around, you could feel your heart beating a million miles an hour - you didn't realise any of the crew were still here.

"Y/N! What the hell is taking you so long!?" Your eyes widened to the voice; now you were doubly glad you hadn't screamed. Opening the door ajar, you poked your head out and were faced with the unimpressed look of the crew’s resident green-haired swordsman. On second thought that was just his natural expression. You opened the door a little wider, halfway between asking a question and looking around to answer it yourself - was everyone else still here? Evidently, he wasn't done ridiculing you; "What the hell!? You're not even changed!? Even I got changed!" Your eyes focused back on him... Well, he wasn't wrong. He had changed his shirt. You indicated to the pile of clothes strewn on the floor, "Well I didn't know what to wear!" Now you were talking to Zoro, you might as well ask; "Wait, is everyone still here!?" His hands went to his pockets as he shuffled a little on his feet, eyes moving from yours, "No, but I said I wasn't leaving without you, now hurry up!" "…Hurry up!?" You folded your arms, eyes narrowed. You'd known him long enough to be able to read him pretty well, "Zoro, I bet you don’t even want to go!" He copied your crossed arm stance, "Maybe it's not my scene but if it’s a party, there’s alcohol." You couldn't help but roll your eyes, 'good lord.' Resisting shaking your head you turned your full attention back to him, glancing head to toe; "You’re going with your swords? Really?" Zoro was as defensive as you expected, "You never know what’ll happen." That seemed typically him. "Well…" You turned back to your clothes with a smile, finally deciding on something that would complement what he was wearing, "you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take mine." "Annnnnd that’s why I’m the better swordsman." You glanced back over your shoulder to shoot him a look. Despite how nonchalantly he'd declared it, the tiny smirk on his face said everything. “I am but a humble student, you’re supposed to be better than me.” He laughed, short, more like a bark; “Humble is the word you’d use, huh!? Interesting…” You turned your body fully back to him, hands on your hips. "Why would you even think I would debate-" You cut yourself short, realising that somehow Zoro was managing to stall time even more. So much for hurrying you up. "HEY! Will you get out of here and let me change!"

Sensing he was clearly enthusiastic; you gave him 15 more minutes before you headed back out on deck. He was standing with his hands in his pockets again, ankles crossed over each other as he leaned back on the railing. Glancing you up and down he gave a single simple nod. This was Zoro, so that was a complement and you would take it. There was silence between you for a moment, but the sound of a party was in the air. It was loud, it sounded busy. Exactly the kind of thing you liked. Exactly the reason it had taken you so long to get ready in the first place. And he knew that. The man in front of you however…

Zoro walked forward a couple of steps, slowly, looking around as if on high alert. He stopped not even a foot from you, brown eyes focusing back on yours. His voice was flat, but it was a distinct tease. "You know, a lookout not on deck is no good." You could have seen it coming from a mile off, but there was something about him that made you rise to it anyway. "Looking out for what?! We’re docked! You seem to believe you’re doing a better job, and you were still here.” He indicated to himself, "First mate. Lookout is not in my official job title." He was going to drive you insane. Your breath was deep but you held back the ‘my god, how did I end up with you!?' - for both ways he could take it and neither ending up in your favour. Instead, you cleared your throat and threw your hand in the direction of the port, “Can we just go please - if you’re so eager?! You did just rush me.” Zoro shuffled on his feet a bit more before he decided to respond with, “Fine.” That did not mean that he moved very fast at all, and you shook your head slowly, following him. Apparently, the draw of alcohol wasn't even doing it tonight. You did wonder sometimes, you really did…

Once you got down the gangplank, Zoro turned immediately left. You glanced to your right; exactly where all the light and sound was coming from. God help you now... You raised your eyes to the sky; 'idiot.' Instead of saying anything, you simply reached out and took his hand. Seemed like a natural enough thing to do... He was fine with it within the confines of a room training. Touch was okay there. But in public, you couldn't be sure. Not even on a currently deserted dock. But Zoro didn't jerk away, and even when he walked far enough for his arm to pull back when you weren’t moving, he didn't drop it. Turning back to you, standing rooted in place, staring at him. Your arm stretched as far as it would go with his doing the same, hands still together. You tipped your head in the opposite direction. Once again, not a word passed your lips. His eyes moved around you to the port, but he barely acknowledged it before walking back to you, and then in step. You let him dictate the pace - still super slow.

Zoro cleared his throat, deciding that he would comment on the situation. "I knew that, I was just taking the scenic route." You declined to comment that the scenic route was about to lead Zoro off the end of the pier. There was humour in your voice, “Every route with you is the scenic route…” You wouldn't say you struck a nerve, but there was something sharp in his voice. “What are you trying to insinuate?!” You opted to just shake your head again, amusement obvious on your features; even if it was clear, you were saying something. Zoro narrowed his eyes at you, keeping them on your face to wait for you to break. Unfortunately for you, it didn't take long to start giggling. Composing yourself a little, you came up with a decent excuse. “Hey, look, I just don’t want to lose you. It’s pretty busy.”

To your earlier point, the dock around you was dead, but the direction you were heading in seemed overly crowded. Zoro, still focused on the surrounding area, was halfway through raising an eyebrow to correct you - when he realised the joke. “HA. Lose.” Again, you said nothing, maintaining innocence. If that was the conclusion he wanted to jump to - correct or otherwise. For a minute or so you thought you'd get away with it, until you found your left hip bumped by not just one, but all three of his swords - which caught across your ankle for good measure, so his timing must have been impeccable. You paused your walk for a moment, looking across to him, clearly unimpressed. Rubbing your side with your free hand. Zoro merely shrugged, voice once again level. "Sorry." His first thought had really been to muss your hair or something, but that would have meant dropping your hand, and he really didn't want to let that go. It was also the perfect excuse when his swords were between you. In honesty you thought you probably did deserve some retaliation. "Maybe you should walk on the other side of me." "Not exactly my first thought, swordsman." Maybe you would have held his hand otherwise, but this had started practically... Now it was turning more romantic. Even if the words weren't. "If you had yours that wouldn't happen." "If I had mine things would be worse - probably for me." Considering you wore yours on your left hip you probably would have had to walk on his other side... "Yeah, that’s you up against me.” (It didn’t cross your mind he would be talking about anything except sword fighting until later.) “What!? I can’t believe you’d-” What did that have to do with anything!? “Name one time you’ve ever beaten me….” You remained silent. “Exactly.” Something within you felt determined to get him back for that comment - such had your friendship always been before it had become a relationship. “You know when I said that I bet what happened with Mihawk was awful for you and I was sorry you had to go through it?” Zoro almost smirked following your train of thought, “What? Not exactly feeling that right now?” The smile you gave him in response was crooked, “Yeaaah…”

So, his only option was to one up you, “Okay, well, next time how about I just put my sword through you instead of just barely grazing you. The AUDACITY!? This time he raised a gasp from you. You turned to retaliate, but funnily enough at the exact same time you gripped his hand a little tighter - this was play fighting. “Just barely—!? You call this just barely grazing!? I damn well needed stitches! It’s going to leave a mark!” Zoro listened, body half turned into yours, but he wasn't looking at you, continuing to stare in the direction you were walking. He simply indicated to his chest; 'really!?'. You knew you had no option but to drop it then - because fair enough. But there was still a deep cut across your left shoulder blade that he had left there. Instead, you sighed gently, turning back to the lights glittering off the water, everything was getting steadily louder as you got ever closer. You smiled again, “It’s okay. I know I’m the 5th wheel here…” Zoro frowned momentarily at your math; mentally counting the crew, before he realised you were talking about his swords. He shook his head in response, lacing his fingers with yours.

You weren’t quite sure how this had happened in the first place. It also wasn't meant to be like you were sneaking around behind the crew’s backs, you just weren't ready to be out in the open yet. You'd both been bounty hunters; Zoro mostly worked alone but very occasionally you had worked together. Had a couple of other good bounty hunting buddies too – and the four of you were a decent team. It hadn't taken long for you to develop a crush on him - and as a swordswoman yourself you were in awe of his skills. It was something you only ever strived to get better at. You'd pushed that crush back a long time ago in favour of friendship - after all, unless you were going to team up permanently (not his thing.) there was not much point in getting serious about it. Added to that, Zoro never at all seemed interested in romance. You had been content to just keep seeing him around. That was until rumours started flying around the community that the great Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro was now a pirate himself. Had joined a crew and everything. At first you had simply laughed it off as ridiculous. That must have been some other guy calling himself 'Roronoa Zoro' because there was no way in hell the man you knew was going to do that. How wrong you were, sufficiently curious to follow the rumours along until you both ended up on the same island. And sure enough there he was - with a crew calling themselves the Straw Hats. A crew you now found yourself a part of, having practically begged him to teach you after he'd kicked your ass yet again. (Like you weren't about to miss a bounty hunting opportunity - even if it was him.) Now you were, as you had pointed out to him earlier, a humble student.

The relationship element was new. You knew you weren't sure who or what started it, but it happened and it just felt like a good natural progression. Neither of you were really pushing that relationship aspect currently. You were close for sure, and you always kept close. ALL the time. (And if anyone on the crew was suspicious, they didn't call it out.) You held hands after training... When you were alone. It never progressed much further than that. Passed a confession and the agreement that you were, indeed, a couple.

Yet here you were, Zoro was not protesting holding your hand on the way to the party. And hadn't he just been the one to link your fingers in this way? That hadn't been you.

Stepping up from the dock onto the port side you were both bathed in light. It went from just the two of you to apparently everyone else in the world who had descended on the little town. You weren’t sure where to look – there was so much to take in. The bustle of the people – of all ages – was secondary to the bright colours all around. Shops, restaurants, bars, and their patrons spilled out onto the streets – covered in bright neon decorations and constantly glittering lights. In the central square ahead of you, music played from an elevated platform; even from here neither of you could tell if it was a live band playing or simply amplified through a sound system, only that the gathering of people around it were dancing. All down either street was a collection of booths selling various foods, drinks, wears and even offering games to play, each one looking as busy as the next and all dressed in the same bright colours as the permanent stores. Happy voices called out to each other: both friends and merchant alike. It was more like a festival than a party and you wondered quietly if that was actually what you had stumbled upon. There was so much to see and do, standing up on the street you almost weren’t sure what to give your attention to first: but you knew it was going to be a fun evening. Zoro could feel the energy from the party hit you instantly; if he didn’t know any better, he would say you were vibrating – you had an entirely different buzz about you than you had 2 seconds ago walking with him down here. He could feel it all through your connected hands, see it in the way your eyes were almost sparkling (though, that could have been the reflection of the lights). This was your domain; you were as in your element here as he was with three swords.

Zoro instinctively pulled you closer - if you didn't want to lose him in the crowd this was the only way. "You know where they are?" "In case you didn't notice - which you did - I wasn't the one looking out for them!" "Right... Stay close. Don't let go." He pulled you forward, and tonight you decided you would just trust him with directions. The 'don't let go' hit different though; if he was going to drop your hand at any point it would be now - not only in a very public place, but the chance of any of the crew happening upon you at any second. You almost wondered aloud if it might have been due to him spending his time waiting for you drinking; loosening up a bit. It would have made sense, but it didn't seem like it. Zoro was going to the party for alcohol. If he had it on him back at the ship, why would he bother? Unless...

You were snapped from that thought by suddenly being pulled in another direction. Finding yourself steered towards a building labelled 'Bar.' Figures he'd be able to find that with no issue. You continued scanning the crowds; the crew must have been around, but also at this point were long gone to you. And Zoro was clearly interested in drinking, pushing the door open with the most enthusiasm you'd seen out of him all night. But he wasn't just holding your hand for the sake of holding it. He knew men. You had dressed up for this because you had a social side. If he didn't clearly indicate who you were with, you were as likely to end up in trouble as anything. Another reason to keep those swords on hand; if anyone dared try anything he was sending clear signals. In the bar the crowds were even more dense, and you moved closer to him, free hand coming across your body to touch his arm; if you were going to hold his hand any tighter it might actually hurt. Still, Zoro couldn't help his little smile. You scanned the gathering more, swallowing hard at the realisation of how many eyes were suddenly on you. Drawn not just to yourselves, but also more closely to the points of connection between you and your entwined fingers. Your gaze flicked back to him, still solely focused on leading you to the bar - if Zoro had noticed this attention, he paid it no mind. You almost envied that. You were very aware of how gorgeous he was - you weren’t blind! You were unlikely to be the first or only girl to ever have fallen for this man. You were just the lucky one that had him…. Somehow! If you were any other girl in this room, you'd be jealous, too.

After what felt like an age, you finally made it to the edge of the bar. He brought your twined fingers up to it, unlinking your hands but keeping them close, leaning forward to try to find the barkeep. At this point the aged wood was littered with empty glasses and bottles. You hoped for the sake of your partner the whole bar wasn't already dry. Without even asking you were both presented with a beer, "Ahh! What can I get the lovely young couple then, eh? First one is on the house!" Zoro was clearly irked by the descriptor - but got straight to the point, "What have you got? Bottle of your best...?" He waited for the suggestion. "Well, uh, I'll have to see, sir! I would expect most things are out by now, but I'm sure I can find something." "Okay. Then," Zoro's sigh was deep, like he was trying not to think about it being the only reason he came down here. "I'll have a bottle of whatever you have left!" He turned to you, look pointed, "Clearly, we are late to the party."

You were about to commend him on just the one - realising suddenly you were going to quickly become the 6th wheel in this relationship to alcohol - when you were interrupted by the overly loud calls of your captain. "HEEEYYY!! ZORO! Y/N!!!" You barely had time to turn before Luffy was throwing his arms around you and pulling you together in a three-way hug, "Where did you go!? We were worried about you guys!" "Ah, blame her. She takes too long!" You punched Zoro's arm playfully, but you returned your hand to resting next to his on the bar. Luffy said nothing - likely oblivious as ever; but you could bet if one person in the crew didn't care, it would be him. Luffy grinned, "Well it doesn't matter! You're both here now! Ahh you gotta try the food, it's so good!" You turned back to the busy room, watching everyone else laughing and joking together. Luffy and Zoro followed your eyeline. Zoro's hand brushed against yours for your attention before he nudged you, "Go on." "W-what about you!?" You whipped back, a little too quick to protest. Luffy looked between you. "I'll be fine here. Besides, I can keep an eye on you from the bar. That's what you want to be here for, go have fun." Fun definitely didn't seem like the word Zoro would use, but this wasn't about him. It was about you. You looked to the bottle of beer you'd been given and pushed it towards him, "Here, just in case they can't find you anything else. I think you need it more than me!" Turning to Luffy you smiled sweetly, rubbing his shoulder, "Look after him for me!" "I will do!" Luffy grinned, Zoro just shook his head. But you knew he had everything he needed right there. You let your eyes linger on his and focused on that touch for just a moment longer, before you slipped from under the arm of your captain and went to make yourself sociable with the other crew and townsfolk. Surely Usopp, Nami and Sanji were in here somewhere... Glancing back over your shoulder you watched Luffy take your place, chatting excitedly to his first mate. He had Zoro's full attention; it made your laugh to yourself. You were going to end up so many wheels back you might as well have not been in this relationship...!

You were social, it was one of your greatest strengths. It was easy to make friends. It made it easy to get information. That was how you used to do your bounty hunting. You could talk to anyone and everyone easily. You liked listening to people's life stories - hearing about all the places they were visiting. The islands you’d landed on; about what there was to do in the area, even if you never went yourself. You liked talking about the tiny East Blue island you'd grown up on. You had enough stories from sailing across the East Blue yourself. And you could twist the crews’ stories into something a little less... Pirate-y. You always enjoyed it, you always had fun. If someone asked you to dance, you would. If someone wanted to drink with you, you were down. Tonight... Tonight you realised that even in your element, you were not having fun. Not as much fun as you wanted. Not alone.

You hadn't thought about it before. Hadn't considered when you were getting ready that it would ever be the case. You expected to have a good time with the crew - your relationship and anything that might happen with it tonight was an added bonus to something you loved doing. But in the middle of the conversation, you couldn't help realising how much you didn't want to be there. At least... Not in the company of these people.

You looked back over your shoulder to the bar, and were almost surprised to see not only was Zoro alone once more (you would have put money on either Luffy dragging him along, or Luffy dragging everyone else over to him), but he was staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't going to take his eyes off you tonight. When Zoro said he was keeping an eye on you he meant it. And maybe he’d never say it out loud, but with you looking like this, that wasn’t the only reason. The two bottles besides him were finished. But whatever the bar man had managed to find him was unopened. He turned slowly to it, before wrapping his fingers around the neck and dragging it off the bar. Gesturing with it towards you, before tipping his head back towards the ship. You smiled, and suddenly it was the happiest you had felt all evening. In that moment you knew exactly where you wanted to be. And tonight, where you would rather find yourself.

He met you by the door as you politely excused yourself from the conversation, this time taking his other hand and making sure to walk on his left. The knowing smile on Zoro's face indicated he knew you were learning. A tiny piece of your felt bad, as he opened the door back into the night air - the crowd was a little thinner, but the party was still in full swing. It felt like you were bailing, you'd been late and you were leaving almost immediately. But it wasn't as if people could say you hadn't turned up. Luffy at the very least had seen both of you there. But there was something inside you that stirred in excitement at the thought of sneaking back to the Merry with a bottle...

If you had gone at a snail’s pace to get here, you practically ran back. Or you would have thought you had, considering how giggly and breathless you were, despite not having drunk at all tonight. Yet. With the bottle in his hand that was clearly going to change. Zoro removed his sword belt, propping them up against the wooden railing of the ship, before blowing out a breath and settling beside them; back up against a pillar, he stretched his legs out in front of him, placing the bottle between them. You shook your head, sitting yourself down in front of him with a grin. At least out here it was quiet, the air was cooler. Zoro closed his eyes for a moment, tipping his head back; allowing you to trace the lines of his face. His jaw and down his neck, up over his broad shoulders and down his toned arms, to his fingers. You thought for a moment about the skilful way he could un- and re-sheath his swords. How any just-so movement with his fingers would move those blades to make perfect strikes. You hadn't been present for the fight with Mihawk that had made the scar across his chest. That was a little too much to think about, but the shirt you were coordinating with tonight exposed enough of his chest for a part of it to be visible... But you still couldn't imagine Zoro losing. Even when you could imagine just how incredible the 'World’s Greatest Swordsman' was.

You bit your lip, thinking about your earlier jab, and suddenly felt terrible. "Hey, Zoro..." "Mhm..." He initially kept his eyes closed and head tipped back, but when you didn't continue, he changed his position to look at you. With your eyes and expression a little guilt ridden; he couldn't help tipping his head in confusion. You took a breath, and although it seemed like you wanted to look away from him, you didn't: "What I said earlier about the Mihawk fight... You know I didn’t mean it, right?” Zoro almost chuckled - that was debatable. But he had known you was joking with him. "Y/N, you worry too much." "But I still-" "Of course, I do." It's what you wanted to hear - so he would satisfy that. You sat back on your hands with a smile, this time voice a little sweeter; "And what I said about being with you being scenic… you know I did mean it, right?” You had realised the hilarity of saying every route with him was the scenic one, and that depending on how you'd said it, how it could have been either a sarcastic tease on his sense of direction or a very smooth romantic flirt. Internally you'd kicked yourself for not realising sooner and now - despite it being obvious at the time which you were going for - you wondered which way he’d actually taken it… Zoro cracked a grin, clearly he'd noticed it too. “Oh. You mean I am the view.” Even though, by the look on his face, you knew Zoro understood you hadn’t meant it that way. Yet, you couldn't help but blush a little, “Glad we could agree.” “That would be a first…” You were compelled; you leaned forward and smacked his leg. It was likely always going to be a knee-jerk reaction to his teasing. That just made him chuckle, and he picked up the bottle again, cracking it open. "Should I get some glasses?" "Glasses?" Zoro scoffed, "Hell no. Now c'mere." He beckoned you forwards.

You couldn't help being intrigued, but as you moved to the side of him, Zoro grabbed your waist, pulling you to sit between his legs. For a minute you struggled, both shrieking and laughing, pushing against him enough that he had to physically hold you in place. You relented, giggles still rising in your chest as his arms wound around your waist. Head propped back against his chest you looked up at him. "Okay fine, you win!" "I'll just chalk yet another one up." "Ah, keep them, I'm never beating you." "Wow." He smirked again, "Did we just agree on two things? Careful, Y/N, we might be on a roll!" You nudged his face with your palm, "Hush!" Causing Zoro to grab your hand and interlink your fingers again. The movement caused his piercings to run together, making them chime softly. You focused on them dancing for a moment, unable to help yourself from reaching out and making the gold ring together again. Zoro simply shook his head at you, picking up the bottle he'd just opened (and somehow in all that hadn't spilled everywhere.) and taking a sip. "Whatever helps you amuse yourself." "One per sword?" "I'm not even answering that." "Hey, it's a valid question!" After all, you had a multitude of piercings in both your ears and didn't carry nearly that many weapons. He ignored you, holding the bottle out. You accepted it gratefully and read the label; "Any good?" "It's alcohol, even the bad stuff is good." "Yeah, no," you sighed, "that sounds like you." You took a drink and concluded that this one was indeed, pretty good. Taking another sip, he smacked the top of your thigh, "Hey! No drinking the whole bottle, I waited too long to get that one!" You almost choked, "And you won't get any if you make me spill the damn thing!" "You do that, I'll be throwing you overboard and telling the crew you elected to stay in town." "Thing is I wouldn't put it past you..." You handed the bottle back to Zoro, making yourself comfortable against his body, "I'm just saying a good boyfriend wouldn't do that." You heard Zoro huff a laugh as he lifted the bottle to his lips again, "Ah, I never promised to be one of those." "What? A good boyfriend?" "That's the one." "Well. A girl can dream." "That's all you'll be doing." You let out a laugh then, a full-blown belly laugh. "I know you're determined to ruin this, but you can't. It's not happening. This is exactly what I wanted." "Me?" But he left it there, fingers of the hand not holding the bottle finding yours again.

You sat in silence for a moment, the only sound your breathing and the back and forth of the liquid in the bottle every time he took a drink. Further back, the dull hum of the party, and the waves lapping at the side of the Merry. Inspecting the bottle once more Zoro realised it was nearly empty. Looking down at you in his arms he realised your eyes were closed. "Hey..." He tried softly, so not to wake you if you were asleep. "Mmm?" Your response let him know that even if you weren’t, you weren’t far off. "You want any more of this?" "Oh, no." You shuffled a little more, head moving to his shoulder, opening more of your body to the warmth of his, Zoro found himself pulling his legs in closer to aid you with this. "It's yours. You said it yourself; it was hard to come by. And I know it was the only reason you were going anywhere near the party." He stared at you for a moment, and then between you and the bottle. Your eyes were closed, so you didn't see his next soft smile. "Well, maybe it wasn't the only reason." You didn't respond, but he saw the smile on your face grow.

By the time he'd finished the drink you were asleep, and even when he moved himself to get a little more comfortable - careful with you still in his arms - you didn't wake. He'd have to be vigilant, glancing to his swords... Just in case anyone did think they were about to come on here and try to mess with you, or the ship. Come to think of it, where were yours...? ‘Ah forget it, I could handle it myself.’ He looked back down to you, peaceful. Pressed up against him, Zoro suddenly noticed how warm you were. How the air had a distinct chill to it the later into the night it became. (Heck, maybe it was early morning now. But there was no way of knowing - especially with none of your crewmates around.) Delicately he brushed some of your hair out of your face, before pressing his lips fleetingly to your forehead. Closing his eyes, he propped his head on top of yours, position of his body protective to your smaller form. He almost laughed to himself - when the hell did something like this happen? "Goodnight, Y/N..." * * *

It was not the scene the crew expected to return to, that was for sure. Looking between each other and trying to determine who might have had any indication that you were in any way a “thing.” Clearly, you and Zoro had been just that good at keeping it under wraps. Not that it mattered much now; nothing could have been more obvious! “What. The. Hell!?” Sanji was the first one to gain anything near composure enough to talk - although not composure in general. Nami and Usopp had to move quickly to hold him back; “I’m going to KILL that moss-head!” “Sanji! No! Wait!!”

Nami internally cursed herself for not being the first one on the ship. If she had been, she could have kept the rest of them away and would have had pretty good ammo for blackmailing you both for Berri. Ah well, no good thinking too much on that now. “I, for one, think it’s sweet.” Sanji scoffed. “Maybe she’ll lighten him up a little! God knows he needs that. Always so damn serious! And unsociable! I would welcome that change.” “Not with her though!” Sanji made another noise of discontent, making Nami sigh. As if Sanji would be fine with Zoro being with any other woman – on this crew or otherwise? She looked back to the scene; cuddled up together and sleeping soundly. It was late - maybe even early - and the air was much cooler than it had been before, rolling in from the sea. “Can one of you get a blanket? Last thing we need is either of them catching a cold!” Luffy - who had just been staring at you up until now, trying to add it all up in his head; it would explain how close you were at the bar but also… - suddenly sprang into life: “I’LL DO IT!” Nami grabbed him, clamping her hand over his mouth, “Stop yelling you idiot! You’ll wake them up!” Sanji actually thought that was a great idea - but he wasn’t exactly the person who was going to go against Nami’s wishes.

Luffy’s version of quiet was more of a shouted whisper, and he sounded out his words in their syllables for emphasis. “Sorry. I’ll get it!” Nami placed her hand against her forehead watching him walk off in big slow steps - she truly was surrounded by idiots. It was a good thing she loved them.

By the time he came back, she’d managed to successfully move Usopp and Sanji on. And once he handed her what she’d asked for, she began ushering Luffy away (which, considering him, ended up only being a few feet further back.) Rolling her eyes, Nami sighed again, unfurling the blanket, and throwing it carefully over you both. She tucked it as much as she thought she’d get away with before it woke you up and stood back admiring her handy work.

Luffy looked between you and her, “Soooo… will they be alright now?!” “I think so…” Nami turned to him, and pushed, “Now will you get out of here and give them some quiet!” “Well, what about you!?” “I’m leaving too! Honestly—!” “Okaaaaay….!!” He protested as if he wasn’t protesting and walked away.

But when Nami turned back, she almost jumped. Zoro’s eyes were open, and he was staring at her. From the expression on his face, she couldn’t tell if he was impressed or not. She decided she’d probably rather not enquire. After a little while of unnerving her on purpose, Zoro closed his eyes again. But he spoke, voice quiet. “Thanks, Nami.” She smirked, because this was her chance. He’d just left that door wide open and she wasn’t missing the opportunity. “You’re welcome. But you guys owe me!” He sighed - knew it! - this much more of discontent, “Of course.”

---

One swordsman down, two to go! 😁 💚🖤💛

[fullofgutsndopamine]

i love you, i love you (it’s disgusting)

frat hasan + "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?" &

"Don't go on that date." "Why?" "You know why."

"Say it."

or: no one is asking for hasan fics. in fact, they get the least amount of engagement however i am currently obsessed with him, so i will continue to write my self indulgent fics

angst, idiots in love, over use of the word princess

your hands shook as you tried to pin earrings to your ears.

you try and ignore it.

music thumps downstairs, your roommate and best friend, hasan, was throwing a small get together with some friends from class. Insisted you came until he finally pulled out of you that there was a date for tonight.

you try not to think of how sad his eyes looked, or how he got so quiet, or how he played with the sleeves on his shirt as he spoke, quietly: "a date? they're lucky. I hope they know that."

And at the time, when he says it, you roll your eyes-hasan is your best fucking friend of course he says that, doesn't think he means it, some social obligation to say that.

Time is closing in on you, and you have about five minutes to say goodbye to everyone and get in your car before you'll officially be running late, and you're already so nervous for this date, this guy you met on a dating app, trying to push down all the thoughts you have on all the dateline segments you could be a part of as you walk down the stairs-

"Hey!" He stands up a little straighter when you walk down the stairs, ignoring the low whistling and compliments your friends throw at you, "Not too late. We're playing beer pong and I need my partner! C'mon."

"You'll be fine without me, hasan. I believe in you." You laugh, know the nervous is oozing off of you, you just have to get out of here as soon as possible-

he drags his feet to the kitchen, almost sulking before he speaks again

"Need help?" He calls gently over the island, sets his warm beer on the counter top and drags his feet to you. A tradition, your neck always has the necklace he bought you when you both got accepted to the same college around your neck-but you can never get it clasped by yourself, always need his expert help, his fingers, to gently loop it around your neck-

He spins you around gently, takes the necklace out of your palm and expertly claps it around your neck, lets it hang perfectly on your chest-

your about to turn around, leave, before you talk yourself out of it, when hasan's voice is in your ear:

"You don't have to go."

You flip around, eyes narrowed, and you ignore how he's shrinking, shoulders in on themselves as he plays with his beanie, tucking hair behind his ear-

"Wait a minute-" You're smirking, "Are you jealous?"

He snorts, "Get real. C'mon-"

"No, no." The smile doesn't leave your face, "You're jealous. Say it, hasan."

His face is red and he rolls his eyes, "I am not jealous. I just think Thursday dates are idiotic. And at a bowling alley? Get real. You hate bowling."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous." You tease, a smirk on your lips.

He rolls his eyes again, and there's silence for a beat, not the normal between the two of you, usually never shut up when you're both in each other's presence-

"I have to go, l'm about ten seconds from being late-"

You turn, and his hand is on your shoulder, makes you turn around slowly, and his voice is so low it's hard to hear over the music.

"Don't go on that date."

"Why？

"You know why, princess"" He rolls his eyes.

You bite your lip as you look at him. "Say it. Say it, hasan."

He looks at you, in your eyes, and the idea of losing his best friend terrifies him-the reason he's at this school, why he's gotten this far in life-

"Beause-" He sighs, looks over his shoulder at his group of friends behind him, turns to you again,

"Because I'll lose my beer pong partner tonight?"

It comes out a question, not a statement, and you pray he doesn't see how your shoulders drop, how much that hurt to just be a beer pong partner, not the nights you two spent on projects-in completely different majors but poured over books next to each other, hands lightly touching as you two reach for snacks or pens, or how you can see out of the corner of your eye as he keeps looking up at you as you read, a smile on his face as he looks back down, flips the page.

you shake your head, roll your eyes, "That's not even worth a response, you dick."

And slam the door in his face, having to pull over down the road so you can fix your smeared make up from crying, all these nights when you were too drunk to get to your bed, him equally drunk, offering his bed, doesn't want to overstep boundaries, sleeps on the floor next to his own bed, waking up in the middle of the night with his hand outstretched as if he fell asleep reaching for your hand-how you were so close to saying something this whole time, how excited you were that it seemed like he was finally going to-

you don't see your phone blowing up, him begging you to come home, give him a chance, let him speak, to meet at your shared spot with him-

the date is a no show.

This isn't necessarily unexpected, because he was flaky at best, and creepy at worse, but you're thinking of an elaborate lie to tell your friends, how perfect this date went, as you spent most of your night at an empty ice cream shop down the way, feeling sorry for yourself over a cup of ice cream-

the lights in the house are off, expect the kitchen, and expect it's just because the party moved downstairs and someone forgot to turn the lights off

you kick your shoes off at the door gently, hang the keys up by the door-happy to be home, make a promise to yourself to delete the dating apps and stay single when you get to your room-

you look up and hasan is standing in the doorframe to the kitchen.

You stare at him, not giving him the satisfaction of talking first, and he catches on quickly, speaks first:

"I was a dick." He finally says.

"Yeah," You snort, "You were."

He nods, "Give me another chance. Let me prove-" He shakes his head, licks his lips, "Let me try again."

You sigh, emotionally exhausted from this day, and not really in the mood for this, but he says please again, and he sounds so pathetic you finally nod, let him walk into the room, grab your hand (you ignore the butterflies it gives you) leads you to the couch in the front room, sets you down on the couch, and, still holding your hand, pulls the table closer to the couch, sits on the edge of the table.

"I didn't want you to go on that date," He says gently, in a whisper, "Because I'm an idiot who's in love with their best friend, but too big of an idiot to say anything."

And you knew this. Like, you both did, but hearing the other say it is terrifying-

"Hasan-"

"-And I didn't want you to go on that date," He continues, "Because it hurts to see you go on these dates with these dicks. You deserve better. and I-I'm asking for a chance to show you-"

"hasan-" You try again, but hasan can't shut himself up,

"A-And I love you, and I mean it, and I should ve just tucking said it-"

You lean in, hand on the side of his jaw and pull him closer to you, lips clashing into eachother-

"hasan," You pull away, "Shut the fuck up."

He smirks now, "Didn't think it would take me rambling for you to finally kiss me, princess"

And you roll your eyes, face red, and he says:

"Again." And pulls you in for another kiss.

[verxsyon]

! contains spoilers + leaks (about wriothesley) from 4.1 !

act iv further solidified wriothesley as one of my favorite characters, especially the confrontation between him and lyney. it was so tense, and honestly, it made me terrified of him and even sigewinne lmao. besides that, the reason why i decided to make this post is because i've so much hate toward wrio on how he treated lyney. wrio may be one of my faves, but i feel compelled to analyze what the hell was going on and why he acted that way toward the siblings.

this analysis includes wriothesley's character!

feel free to share your thoughts under this post!

confrontation between lyney and wrio

clorinde said wrio made the right call of closing the gates, gambling with the fact that freminet was still out there. lyney was planning to go into the water to save him without a plan and knowledge about the water. that's what she meant by "i don't think we can save two". the primordial seawater mixed into the ocean was hidden from the public, however, the fatui figured out its existence from the investigation on childe, but that was the extent of their report.

wrio concluded at first that the fatui were after childe. it didn't have to do with the fortress itself, so he left them alone. but childe was a guise for their real mission which wrio managed to pick up on from little info, so as the duke he had to take action to protect not only the fortress, but traveler and paimon along with the siblings.

lyney didn't know that the ocean was contaminated, and he's not an expert diver like freminet. he resorted to taking down wrio since he won't tell him where lynette and freminet were, and thus sigewinne tranquilized him. it seemed like lyney thought that wrio would beat him up. in wrio's voice line about him, he thought of two things: one of which, he can't bring himself to hurt children. if you didn't notice, he didn't actually inflict physical harm on the siblings. uh, sigewinne kinda did with the tranquilizer so...

honestly, if wrio didn't factor the lack of knowledge and freminet's status into the equation, then lyney would've died out there. also lynette since she was close in discovering the secret and thought of the same thing as her twin. so i believe that wrio does genuinely care for the siblings' safety even though he doesn't seem to show it.

hidden rules and sigewinne's secret

i don't think act iii was a waste and it was a nice build up to act iv. wrio asked those questions about the topic to prove that they have nothing to do with childe's disappearance. the stories coming out of them were fabricated by the trio of inmates childe made friends with. neuvillette only asked the traveling duo to investigate childe's disappearance, not whatever the fortress was hiding, which is a good point that wrio brought up. the fortress itself is none of their business.

he wanted lyney to hear that too, but you know what happened next. lyney thought he was going around in circles, but wrio did want to prove to him that those things didn't have to do with childe. he told clorinde that his negotiations don't work even though he believes he specializes in convincing people. i think he has the habit of resorting to physical means, something that he picked up in prison. the fact that sigewinne had to tranquilize lyney which means wrio was in a position where he's forced to fight lyney to get his message across. based on his reaction, he doesn't want that to happen.

want to add onto the aforementioned paragraph, in neuvie's story quest, he jokingly asked sigewinne if she wanted him "deal with the prisoner personally". he does have thoughts of beating someone up so they could get a sense of what he's thinking. but as the duke, it wouldn't be good for his reputation, and the rules are there to give him self-control.

that being said, paimon did point out sigewinne's involve with wrio's project and her interactions with lourvine and jurieu. since her and the traveler did what he asked and pointed out the last question, he agreed to their request.

primordial seawater and the prophecy

the majority of fontaine don't believe in the prophecy because furina told them not to worry about it. about the primordial seawater, wrio deliberately hid the secret from the public, including the inmates, or else there's gonna be an unrest. if it was revealed, then it's gonna be a huge problem. wrio removed the hoth agents as a result, causing arle to send in the siblings. he admitted that he did that to get her attention. that was when he realized that she has the same goal as the people who believed in the prophecy and wanted to stop it. that's why he proposed to meet her to lyney. however, lyney assumed that he's using that as an opportunity to blackmail her through lynette.

is wrio evil?

not necessarily. remember the fortress of meropide is a prison in the public eye and its admin was a former criminal. the fortress is a no-man's land. in unfinished comedy, estienne said there’s no good or bad in the fortress so morals don’t really matter, only the goal of becoming powerful which may be an extension of survival. you can’t expect the residents to be all nice. in there, one earns respect proving their own strength through negotation, connections, money, and other means. a good example is wrio.

how did someone like him become its admin and a duke? in the sq, he mentioned he collaborated with a popular company such as fonta which may imply that he managed to partner up with some bigshot companies in the overworld to make it thrive and earn huge sums of money in return. seeing how the fortress can be financially beneficial to fontaine, he was awarded with the title. the exact details of how he obtained it were in his character story.

wrio unintentionally triggered lyney's ptsd. i know, it's questionable on the surface. he didn't deny that he kidnapped lynette. but this is how i think of the situation. wrio used his connections to investigate the hoth, not the history behind each member. he only knows this much about the siblings: lyney's a famous magician, lynette's his assistant, and freminet's a star diver - nothing more. i feel like he wants relevant information to address his concerns, so lyney's past doesn't matter to his case. if he only asked for that info to be looked into, then he wouldn't know about lyney's trauma.

"he's an asshole and he's supposed to be nice". we're in a prison and its admin climbed all the way to the top with the skills he gathered in there which may be morally dubious. sometimes being nice doesn't get you to where you want in that kind of world. look at sigewinne. she may look innocent and loves to help people but her intentions are freaky that it makes sense how she was able to survive in that type of environment lmaooo.

conclusion

wrio's not as omnipotent as lyney claims to be. at the end of the day, he's just doing his job. although, him not denying that he kidnapped lynette was kinda iffy. i'm still wrapping my head around his answer. still wondering why he acted that way so i'm curious how everyone reacted.

that being said, i really like his character! very complex, and doesn't immediately play nice with the traveler and paimon. i had a fun time trying to analyze his mind process. can't wait for his story quest. do you think we'll investigate the mutual aid society from neuvie's story quest?

again, feel free to share your thoughts here. i wanna know what y'all think!