#when life will FINALLY let me get back into my ceramics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladadiida · 1 year ago

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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color. You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly. You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo

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tetzoro · 5 months ago

Text

SLOW MORNINGS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after two years, you finally agreed to move in with kuroo and after your first night together, kuroo reflects on his perspective of love — and how much you’ve influenced it.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff, fluff, fluff ! — WC : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this was lost in the abyss on kuroosdarling but i rescued this cheesy lil piece. enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

love was something kuroo always found in fiction.

whether it would be from the stories his grandmother used to read to him as she tucked him into bed, her sweet voice filling his mind with a longing desire to one day have even a fraction of that love.

or in the books his father swore he didn’t own but yet somehow found themselves nestled in between the self help and business books that collected dust on his bookshelf. the tattered covers showing signs of wear and tear that could only come from a devoted reader.

but he never thought he’d make it here and experience a moment like this for himself. he never thought that this was something he’d ever even want at all. relationships had always been pushed back into the far corner of his heart, the fear from his parents ultimate brutal destruction overshadowed his desire for it.

so he never chased after love.

but then you chased after him. and he couldn’t help but welcome you in his arms. you were everything he never thought he needed. you brought peace and serenity into his life. kept him grounded, balanced but still somehow always knew how to push his buttons and keep him on his toes at the same time.

you were the perfect partner for him.

the day he met you, he had no idea how much you were going to infiltrate his life. you went behind enemy lines, storming towards his heart all without making a noise. the perfect stealth attack that left him questioning if he ever had any defenses to begin with.

but he supposed that all boiled down to a simple fact. he could act blind all he wanted, but his soul knew better, for it was the very thing that led you right into his heart, letting you steal it and make it yours.

he was just happy that it was finally in safe hands.

it all brought him crashing down to this moment — seeing your toothbrush innocently sitting next to his in the little ceramic glass by the bathroom sink. the little reminder that showed he shared his space with someone, actually letting them into every crevice of his heart. the thought had him getting a little emotional at 6 in the morning.

because he could easily look over to his right, through the opened bathroom door and see you still peacefully asleep in his bed — your shared bed. and it warmed his heart to no end.

as if you could sense his thoughts, you shift awake, watching him as he stared back at you.

“morning tetsu.” you whisper into the otherwise silent apartment. it took him a second to process the words as they spilled from your lips, watching as you slowly get up and stretch in a way that reminded him of a cat when they first rise from their slumber.

“morning sweetheart.” he smiles, his toothbrush haphazardly hanging out of the side of his mouth. you giggled at the sight, causing his grin to spread wider — wide enough for it to slip out of his mouth and into his hand. his reflexes from volleyball always came in handy when he needed it most. but he supposed he still looked like a fool in front of you — you just had that effect on him.

“you still asleep in there or something?” you ask, teasing him as you wander into the bathroom, wiping some toothpaste off his cheek before wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

“tell me, is it possible to get too much beauty sleep? because you’ve never looked more gorgeous.” he murmurs back, his large hand covering yours as he held your gaze in the mirror. he relished in the flustered expression you tried to hide as your face burrowed between his shoulder blades.

“so cheesy this early? my oh my, we’re off to a good start.” you giggle, your lips pressing against his bare back as the sound escapes you, sending chills all throughout him.

“you better believe it.” he smirks, happily leaning back into your touch. “how’d you sleep?”

“i slept great.” you poke your head out from behind him, smiling as you met his gaze in the mirror once again. it was hard for him not to immediately match your smile, the light in your eyes already brightening the dawn of the day. so he didn’t bother to fight it as his lips lifted upward. “our first night together in the apartment.”

“our apartment.” he quickly corrected, his palm patting your hand soothingly.

“our apartment.” you repeat. you pivot so you’re next to him, lightly bumping his hip with yours so he’d step to the side, giving you some room in the cramped space. you reach over and grab your toothbrush, the very one he was so caught up in only moments ago.

the quiet space now filled with life as you start your morning routine. he resumes brushing his teeth, watching each step you take.

how could something so mundane fill him with such joy?

your pretty eyes meet his in the mirror once again as you start brushing, slightly widening them in surprise under his watchful gaze.

and you were just so cute, sleep still clinging onto your sweet features as if you were internally fighting to stay awake. the two of you had plenty of sleepovers prior to you moving in, but this felt different.

this was the start of your lives together.

and it made him happy. so happy that he couldn’t help but chuckle, watching your face scrunch up at the strong minty toothpaste he used.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter either, lovingly looking at him through the mirror as your shared giggles fill the room.

if this was the first day to the rest of your lives together, he knew it would be filled with nothing but love. the kind of love he thought only existed in cliche movies and sappy poems. the kind in the bedtime stories his grandmother would read to him. the kind he found between the annotated pages of his father’s books.

but he found all of that within you, the love of his life.

thank you so much for reading :3

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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peachesofteal · 3 months ago

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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes (non con touching, spanking) / masterlist

The ice cream placates you... for a few minutes.

By the end of the bowl, your skin begins to crawl.

Weak.

They watch you in the lowlight of the kitchen, eyes unwavering, Simon's focused like a laser, Johnny's lazy like the sunset.

Still, each stay steady. Constant.

"The staring is getting old." You mutter in the bowl, spoon clinking against ceramic.

"Jus' making sure ye get enough to eat." Johnny's smile touches his eyes, but your stomach thrashes, unsettled, unnerved.

They kidnapped you, and now they're trying to sweeten you up with ice cream. Like you're a child with a new toy to thwart a tantrum.

There's a single bite left, half melted in the bottom.

"Feel better now?" Simon smirks, and fire sparks to life. Anger, rage boils. Feel better? Do you feel better? Do you feel better, after what they did?

They did this. They did this... to you.

"Fuck you." It's a whisper with your head down, but loud enough to trigger a chair scrape. The sound of someone standing.

"Doe, c'mon now, we only want to protect ye-"

"Johnny." Simon cuts him off, and you glance between both of them. Johnny almost looks sad, mourning in the pools of his eyes, and for a second, you feel bad.

Only for a second.

"Ye dinnae know it now, but we're helping ye. Ye'll see." It's so condescending, and you sneer, eyes narrowed to slits. He doesn't caution himself at the change in your demeanor, the rampant discomfort filling the room, and just when you think he's done talking-

he steps in it. "When ye're done bein' a brat, we'll talk about-"

The ice cream bowl is out of your hand and sailing across the room before your brain even connects what happens. It misses, but the melted strawberry and vanilla splatters across Johnny's face, bowl smashing to pieces on impact as it makes contact with the floor.

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Johnny' stares at you, shocked, and then-

Simon is on you. His eyes are murderous and the fear is back, your heart racing, pulse pounding under your chin. His big body corrals you before you even get a chance to get off the stool, and he yanks your wrists forward, heaving you up over his shoulder in one fell swoop.

"No! Get off me! Put me down, put me- let me go!" You scream, twisting and turning, trying to free yourself, only for him to clamp down more, Johnny on his heels.

You've broken down in tears as soon as you get to bedroom, and he throws you on the bed.

He stands at the edge, still as stone. There's no warmth in his expression, no life in his eyes, and you scramble away on your back, knees tucked to your chest.

He grabs your ankle. "Hand or belt." Johnny's lips thin. Your stomach roils.

"W-what?"

"Hand, or belt." You shake your head. "No? Alright." His smile is feral, wild and dark as his belt buckle clangs open.

"No! No, no please." You're shaking. Terrified.

"You're not gettin' out of this. One last chance to make a choice." Oh god. Oh my god.

"Hand... hand." He drags you to the edge of the bed, tugging you across his knees roughly.

"Johnny." He instructs over your head, your eyes blurry with tears, widening when you feel your pants and underwear being pulled down, your ass upturned in cool air.

"No!" you shriek. "No! No, please. I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry." You rock back and forth, desperate, trying to kick, trying to get away.

"'s too late, little doe." Johnny sounds sympathetic, but then his fingers dig into the backs of thighs so hard they hurt. You wail.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You want to be a brat so badly, you can be one. But your behavior will always come with consequences." Simon murmurs, palm rubbing over the swell of your ass. He swats at the fat of your cheeks, and you flinch.

"Please." Your final plea is meek and breathless. It falls on deaf ears.

He doesn't give you warning. The air, shifts, and his hand cuts through it, raining down onto your skin with a violent, open palm slap. You shriek.

"If you count, we'll go to ten. If I count, we'll go to twenty." Your lungs are wet with tears.

"O-one, please, I'm sorry." You try to wriggle again, but Johnny's vice grip stills you. The next spank is just as hard as the first, and you moan. It fucking hurts. "Two." He alternates until he gets to seven, and then the pain starts to turn, changing to a burn, a prickled sensation that floods your blood.

"Almost there." Simon tells you, and you sniffle miserably, tears still streaming down your face.

The eighth is the hardest one yet, and it drags a scream from your throat. Your skin is raw. "Eight."

Nine is even harder. Your muscles hurt from holding yourself so tense, and you hiccup. "Nine."

"Last one. Take a deep breath." You can't. You're frozen, and Simon's fingers stroke the back of your neck. "Take a deep breath, doe." You make an effort, and as soon as your chest expands, the final spank rains down on you, harder than them all, harder enough it steals your breath. "Good job, you're done. No more." He soothes, stroking down your back before squeezing one of your cheeks, the bloom of bruised agony jolting you to your side. Johnny whistles.

"Ye made a mess, little doe. Pain make ye wet, sweet thing?" What? At first, you think he's talking about the giant tear stain on the sheets, and then embarrassment takes over when you think you might have peed yourself-

but when a finger strokes down your folds, you gasp.

You're wet.

You struggle to get away, only resulting in rolling enough that Simon is able to flip you to your back, one hand holding your knee to his chest, the other behind your shoulders, holding you still. It's too rough on your skin, and you shriek, voice cutting out as you feel something damp. There's a wet spot beneath you, and the horrified realization sinks in that you did that, that you're so wet you soaked Simon's pants.

"Don't." You hiss, trying to close your legs, but Johnny forces them wide. "Don't touch me!" He chuckles, knuckle running down your seam.

"I dinnae, ye look like ye need to be touched." You try to shove him away, but Simon bands your arms down against your stomach, his elbow now holding you open. "Was goin' wait for this part, but might as well since ye're ready. Let's take a look at ye." What? The blood drains from your face.

"Tests came back clear." Simon tells him, speaking over you like you're not even there. Johnny nods. What tests? His head cocks. "She'll need a shave." You try to force you legs closed again, struggling, and Johnny's free hand swings-

He slaps your pussy. Your eyes widen in shock.

Your traitorous cunt throbs.

"Be a good girl." He admonishes. "Think we can get the doctor here in the next few days?" You whimper.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Simon's thumb is rubbing circles in your shoulder, like he's trying to comfort you. The fight is draining from your body by the second, replaced by an insatiable hunger for something else. A desire to come.

Johnny presses on your clit, and your hips jerk. He laughs. "There she is, hidin' just under the hood. Sensitive little thing." A finger gently pushes inside you, just a fingertip, and you tremble. "Tight too."

"S-stop."

"No." His grin is wolfish, and he slides farther, deeper, making you gasp. "I think ye want to come, doe." He works a circle around your clit, and you buck involuntarily, legs shaking. Your bladder is full, adding to the pressure, and all of it is unbearable. "C'mon then, let's see this little pussy come. Ye can do it." He coos, not even looking at your face, head down and focused where he's stroking inside you and rubbing your clit.

"I don't I- I hate you, let me g-go." You're panting now, trying to ward off your orgasm, desperate to give into their satisfaction. "Nnngh." You moan, sensibility disappearing by the second. Simon's rock hard underneath you, and he grinds against your ass, the scraping and burning only fueling your climb to the peak. You clench your eyes shut as a hand smoothes over your lower belly, and then pushes.

"Stop!" you shriek. "I have to pee- n-no, stop." Johnny's eyes turn mad, and Simon laughs.

"Dinnae let go, doe. Or ye'll be punished again. Hold it in." You sputter and choke on a groan as Johnny flicks your clit and then strokes it harder, fucking you with his finger just as fast, shoving you into an orgasm that has you screaming, blinding white light behind your eyes.

"Good girl!" Simon praises like you've just scored a goal or gotten an A on a paper, his lips pressing to your forehead. "Just like that, little doe." You ride Johnny's hand, pathetic mewls and moans filling the room until there's nothing left, and you collapse, limp between them.

Everything goes dark.

The world feels fuzzy. Everything feels strange, like you're floating, untethered, gone from this world. The sting of your skin, the burn of the pain takes you somewhere else, and you hardly register being moved to the bed, cool cream being massaged into your skin. They're speaking, but you don't know what's being said, and you can't hold onto consciousness long enough to stay awake. Cool water tips down your throat, and then you slip away, back to the darkness, sleep settling in your bones.

#same cake cut a different way #peaches writes #mafia!au #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #ghoap x reader where they force you to come is my fav tbh

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lexilovestom · 2 months ago

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SILENT TREATMENT

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— in which: Tom and Y/n go shopping at the mall and he keeps annoying her as a joke, only to make it up to her when they get home ;)

⌞ contains: smut, some angst, fluff, kitchen sex, annoying ass y/n 🤪 (like fr i wanna smack her in the face at times- ANYWAYS) ⌝

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— Y/n's pov

Tom and I are at a huge home furnishings store that recently opened in our town, and we're looking for some new cookware. I pretty much had to beg him to take me here since he doesn't really like shopping, especially for pots and pans. But I told him that, since it's a new store, we could look around and find some cool gadgets and stuff we both might like. And that pretty much convinced him.

The only thing is, he's been annoying and embarrassing me in front of everyone the whole time. I don't know what got to him, but I'm definitely not liking it.

It started with an innocent joke by "accidentally" banging a pot on my head with a little 'whoops! sorry Y/n, didn't see you there', but it quickly turned into different jokes about our private life that made people turn their heads in our direction. No matter how many times I told him to stop and laughed it off, he just kept going and going to the point the jokes became a little too intrusive and repetitive for my likings.

I know it's something he does when he's bored, and it's just his humor, but enough is enough at some point.

"Y/n are you done?" Tom whines on a patio chair in the middle of the store while I look at some outdoor decor.

I turn to his direction and find him pretty much laying on it with his legs spread. I tilt my head and drop my arms in disappointment, "are you really this exhausted?"

"Hell yeah, Y/n! it's almost 8:00pm and I'm starving! even the store is closing down!" he exclaims. I look at him frustrated, "k, let's check out and go." I start walking away as I hear Tom following behind me. I've been pretty quiet and cold towards him, and i think he finally got the message.

We're now in line and I can feel him looking down at me with a small smirk on his lips. I turn to him "what", "why are you maddd!! I was just joking!" he chuckles to lighten up the tension, but I don't give in.

"You're embarrassing me! it's not funny" I say whisper yelling as he bites his lip and smacks my ass multiple times lightly. I gasp and smack his hand away, "Tom stop! there's people behind!" he laughs. "Asshole."

He then leans closer to my ear, "these white jeans are driving me crazy you know?" he smirks as it's now our turn to check out, "oh my god please shut up and walk ahead." I roll my eyes as he chuckles once again.

Said that we pay for everything, walk out the store as Tom puts his right arm around my shoulders and head home. The car ride was pretty much silent, even if Tom was singing along to Dr Dre's debut album on the radio. He even offered to open the car door for me like a gentleman.

— time skip

Tom is sitting at the dinner table as I place down the ceramic plate containing some vegetables and a schnitzel. Halfway through our meal he suddenly speaks up, "so...will you talk to me again now?" I look at him, "i haven't decided yet."

"You just did!" he chuckles as I give him a death stare for about 2 seconds.

"Y/n come on! i was just joking! why do you have to take it so seriously!? plus, people around us could care less about what we do. They weren't even looking!"

"Yes they were, Tom! they were giving very weird looks and you know how much i feel judged in public already!!" he leans his back on his chair. "I appreciate when you mess with me, but today you took it a little too far in my opinion" I break. Tom's expression becomes so unreadable to the point I can't figure out whether he's confused or sorry. But I hear him exhale through his nose in defeat. He's in no mood to discuss and i understand.

After a while we finish our meals and, as Tom leaves to our bedroom, i stay in the kitchen to wash the dishes.

The house is dark, and the only light on is from the under cabinets of the kitchen. Everything's quiet and the only form of noise is the running water from the sink and the clinking dishes.

I'm thinking about how i might have overreacted over Tom messing with me at the store this evening. Even if he made me genuinely mad, he was just doing it for fun and i took it very personally, in the end...

All of a sudden, as my thoughts come to me in a rush, I hear footsteps coming down the staircase. I stiffen as I obviously know who it is.

Tom sneaks quietly near the kitchen island, I can feel his eyes burning at the back of my figure as I continue to wash the dishes. He's just standing there, looking at me. What's he doing?

He lets out a sigh and gets behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his head in the crook of my neck. "Will you talk to me now?" he repeatedly presses small pecks on my bare cheek.

As much as I want to, I stand my ground and completely ignore him. He murmurs a small 'hm?' before he shakes me side to side as he tickles me, "are you gonna give in?"

I then let out a giggle as he knows I can't stay mad at him for too long. Tom lifts his head up and smiles, "ohh! is that a chuckle I heard?!" he shakes me again before I let out another laugh at the movement.

"Look look look! that's my girl!" he laughs. "Come on baby, you know I don't like seeing you like this." I place the last plate I was washing down and feel Tom spinning me to face him by my hips.

"I'm sorry i made you uncomfortable, you know that's the last thing I wanna do to you." He looks me in the eyes and I can see nothing but sincerity and sorrow in them. I take a deep breath, break eye contact and then look back at him, "apology accepted," I smile faintly as Tom returns the favor. "I'm sorry I reacted that way."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, liebe. Don't even think about it." He whispers as I nod slowly, getting lost in his iris.

Our faces are now inches apart and we both slowly lean in to fill the gap between us. The kiss is soft and comforting, but it escalates quickly after I wrap my arms around his neck to deepen it.

Tom holds me tight to him, and as we passionately make out, I feel a sudden burning sensation in between my legs. He then goes down to my neck, softly kissing and sucking on my g spot, making me whimper lightly, before coming back up to my lips.

He begins to take my pyjamas shirt off, tossing it somewhere on the kitchen floor, and stares at my cleavage for a few seconds before taking one of my breasts in his hand and start playing with it. Lowering his other hand down my back and onto my ass, giving it a good typical squeeze.

I sneak my hand near his already hardened crotch, making him whimper with my slow movements. "Hold on, schatzi. I wanna make it up to you" he whispers on my lips before pressing his back on mine.

Tom then takes his shirt off and picks me up, placing me on the counter. As he's standing in between my legs I touch his defined torso before getting interrupted by him pulling my shorts and panties off at the same time.

He immediately slides his hand down my heat, "so wet for me already? wow, schatzi, you really can't resist me, can you?"

I whimper as a response as he begins tracing circles on my area. I spread my legs wider at his touch and can't help but bite my lip to avoid any loud noises to escape my mouth.

Tom stops and pulls his pants down, his cock springing up the second he does. He then takes it in his hands, pumps it a couple times and proceeds to look at me. "Can I, liebe?"

I nod as he slowly puts it in my throbbing core, making a moan escape my mouth. He starts moving into me as i grip on the sides of the counter, his hips buckling back and forth at a slow pace for me to get used to his size.

We move in sync while his hands come up to my hips for support. Groans, whimpers and little compliments start filling the room as Tom suddenly quickens his pace, making me audibly moan and push my head back.

"Fuck!" i manage to let out as Tom's eyes burn on mine. His gaze and features so strong while he pounds into me. I grab his face and kiss him as I pull him onto me, my back touching the cold granite counter while he leans on my weak body.

As Tom continues to move into me, I'm starting to feel a familiar knot in my stomach. "T-Tom I'm close" I whine, "hold it a little longer, baby. You're doing so good."

My hands, once again, grip the counter. Sweat glistening from both our foreheads, panting escaping our mouths, the loud sound of our skin clapping. Everything is just sending nothing but ecstasy up my body, and as my mind is foggy I hear Tom's raspy voice "do it, schatz. Come for me."

After a few more thrusts, I moan out Tom's name as I release all over him. Waves of pleasure washing over me as I throw my head back while Tom gently kisses my neck to overstimulate me.

"Look at you, screaming my name when just 10 minutes ago you wouldn't even talk to me." He whispers in my ear. I roll my eyes back at his words, "this is the effect I have on you, hm?"

After some slow movements, Tom picks up his pace again, this time harder and more possessively. Groans escape his mouth as I'm a moaning mess under him. In a matter of seconds he releases into me, panting and falling limb on my trembling body, breathing heavily on my shoulder as he peppers it with kisses.

I lift his head with my index finger under his chin and kiss him softly. He slides out of me, cum dripping from my hole.

"Holy shit" I breathe out, Tom sighs and chuckles at the same time as he passes a hand over his forehead to dry some sweat. Admiring his work coming out of me.

"You don't actually think this is it, right?" he looks me in the eyes. "Go upstairs, I'll meet you there in a second, prinzessin." he smirks as I jump off the counter, smiling, and make my way to our bedroom.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

sorry for disappearing guys 😭 sorry if this is kinda ass ngl, but I still hope you liked it lmaoo 🥹 also, I didn't reread this so excuse any spelling mistakes. Make sure to send image requests! I would love to put my spin on your ideas 💕 byee! ♡

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz 2005 #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz x you #tokio hotel x y/n #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer

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prythianpages · 3 months ago

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Very Demure | ACOTAR x Witch Reader

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

[season of the witch masterlist]

warnings: none

a/n: The aftermath of the "very mindful, very cutesy, very demure" trend from tiktok. These are drabbles and include Az, Cas & Eris. But Az's is probably the longest at 1K words and no longer a drabble lol, Cas's is 700 and Eris's is 850.

moon divider by @tsunami-of-tears <3

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

Azriel x Green Witch

The scent of earth and herbs filled the air as you approached your patch of snapdragons, their vibrant green stems standing tall but flowerless. Kneeling beside them, you set down the small, ceramic watering can filled to the brim with moon water and reach out to touch the leaves, your fingers trailing over them as delicately as the breeze.

“Good morning, my little ones,” you murmured. "How are you feeling today?"

Your garden came to life, the plants surrounding you swaying slightly in response. All, except for the shy yet stubborn snapdragons.

You frowned.

“The soil is rich and I’ve kept the pests at bay. I’ve planted you where the sun is bright and the air is cool. Very thoughtful of me, isn’t it?”

The snapdragons still did not respond.

With a sigh, you began to water them. Snapdragons were native to Autumn and thrived during the cooler months. From what you read, these flowers had a personality of their own and despite being named after the brazen beasts that soared in the skies, they were demure.

You knew it would be difficult to get them to bloom here in the Night Court but as the Autumn season approached, you were determined to grow them yourself. Their seeds could be used to make healing oils and if the stubborn flowers favored you, they would gift you with their small but mighty fire breath that you could use to make a warming potion.

“See how I’m not overwatering you? Very mindful.” You continued, setting the watering can back down, using the oldest trick in the book. Like calls to like and if you could show the flowers that you could be like them, perhaps they’d bless you by blossoming.

“I’m not doing too much. Very demure."

You smiled fondly at them, knowing they were listening. "I understand that a beauty like yours cannot be rushed. But know that I am waiting to see your colors, to feel the warmth you bring.”

As if finally acknowledging your presence, one snapdragon in particular—a tiny bud, the smallest of them all—quivered ever so slightly. You leaned closer, your heart swelling with hope when a shadow came over you.

You rose to your feet, brushing at the dirt on your skirts as you turned around. The corners of your mouth curved upward, your heart fluttering with that familiar, gentle tug deep within your chest—the unmistakable pull of his presence.

“Azriel.” You greeted as his familiar form emerged from the shadows.

His wings shuddered, his shadows dispersing like ink in water, revealing him before they settled at his feet. As always, a few of the inky tendrils reached out to you, caressing your skin with their smooth, cool touch. One, more daring than the others, wrapped itself around your arm and nestled there, refusing to let go.

“Looks like someone missed me.” You laughed.

“I missed you more.” Azriel grinned, taking a step forward.

He reached out, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against your cheek. You gasped at the chill of his skin, your brows knitting together in concern as you clasped his hand between your own. “Cauldron above, you’re freezing!”

You reached for his other hand, gathering both of his scarred hands into your warm grasp. The rough texture of his skin contrasted sharply with the softness of your touch, and your heart ached at the thought of him enduring such cold, worried it’d bring him more pain.

“I’m used to it,” Azriel murmured, his tone dismissive as he shrugged off your concern. “Illyria’s temperatures have always been brutal.”

But you couldn’t shake the worry. Azriel tried to pull his hands away, but you held on tighter, green magic swirling around his fingers, gently massaging the ridged scars. His right wing twitched under your fussing, and you brought his hands to your lips, pressing soft kisses to the backs of each one.

Your lips against his skin felt like a soothing balm, and he could feel warmth spreading from his hands up to his neck, making his breath hitch.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be able to brew a potion that will keep you warm at all times soon.”

“It’s okay, don’t trouble yourself. I can handle a little cold every now and then,” he replied, trying to downplay the discomfort, but you frowned up at him.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

You released his hands, the warmth of your magic still wrapped around him. The idea of a warming potion was tempting, but Azriel knew how overwhelmed you were with requests from other fae in need. He could wait—there were others who needed you more. Yet, when he looked into your eyes, filled with such fierce affection and determination, he knew he wouldn’t win this argument.

Azriel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he murmured.

You grinned up at him, your eyes sparkling. “Very demure.”

“What?” He asked, puzzled by your teasing tone.

Before you could respond, a gentle breeze brushed past, drawing your attention back to the patch of snapdragons. Azriel followed your gaze, his hazel eyes curious. The small bud that had been trembling moments before began to unfurl, its petals peeling back like layers of silk. Your breath caught in your throat as the snapdragon revealed itself in all its glory—a vibrant bloom of deep crimson, its edges kissed with gold.

"There you are," you breathed, your voice filled with wonder. "Oh, you are magnificent."

The bloom seemed to bask in your praise, its petals resembling a dragon’s mouth opening wide. A small cloud of smoke puffed from the center, followed by a gentle hiss, and then, with a tiny roar, the snapdragon emitted a small burst of fire. Instinctively, Azriel’s arms tightened around you, but you placed a calming hand on his chest.

“I knew you could do it,” you said to the flower, your heart swelling with pride and joy.

Cassian x Love Witch

Cassian dropped his toast, eyes widening as you walked into the kitchen, humming softly to yourself. The tune was light, almost suspiciously nonchalant, but it was your outfit that truly caught him off guard. He swallowed the food in his mouth, clearing his throat as he tried to process what he was seeing.

“What are you wearing?”

“Good morning to you too,” you replied with a sweet smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek before gliding past him to the steaming cup of coffee waiting for you.

Cassian blinked, still in disbelief. “What are you wearing?” he repeated. Your usual vibrant pinks were replaced by muted tones—dark navy pants, a soft beige top, and matching flats. The only hint of pink was in the pearl earrings dangling from your ears, and even those were a subtle shade, almost blending in.

Cassian could count on one hand the number of times you’d worn anything other than your signature bright pinks. One of them being your wedding day, where you wore a beautiful white dress but even then, your platform heels were a bold hot pink.

“Clothes.” You answered simply, leaning against the kitchen counter to face him.

“I see that…,” Cassian exhaled, blinking as if trying to wake from a strange dream. But this was real, and it was slightly unsettling. “But why?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes as you sipped your coffee. “Are you asking me why I’m wearing clothes?”

“Sweetheart, you know exactly what I’m asking.”

You sighed, the lightheartedness fading from your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, a gesture that sent a ripple of unease through him. “I’m going to try and be a little more… demure.”

“What?”

“Try and be a little more demure.” You repeated.

“Demure,” Cassian chuckled. At the sight of your lips curving down into a frown, all amusement drained from Cassian’s face and his heart tightened. “Oh, you were serious?”

When you remained silent, Cassian stood, concern replacing his earlier confusion. He closed the distance between you, his large hand gently lifting your chin, coaxing your gaze to meet his. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied honestly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “It’s just… I overheard some fae at Rita’s talking about this trend. To not do too much, to be more subtle, to be demure.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed as he studied you, a small, tender smile forming on his lips. “Sweetheart, you are anything but demure.”

Your glare was immediate, but it was more a pout than anything, and Cassian couldn’t help the fondness that swelled in his chest. “I can be anything I want to be,” you retorted.

“Yes,” he agreed, his thumb caressing your cheek in a way that sent a shiver of warmth down your spine. “But I just want you to be you.”

His words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the love he had for the vibrant, unapologetically you. When you didn’t respond, Cassian leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering as if willing you to let go of whatever doubt had crept into your heart.

Slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and with it, the glamour over your clothes faded away. Gone were the muted colors, replaced by the vivid shades of pink that Cassian adored—the colors that were as much a part of you as your laughter and your light.

Because when have you ever given in to trends? You, who shone like a beacon of color in a world that could be so gray, had always embraced who you were without hesitation. The opinions of others rarely fazed you, but sometimes, even you needed a reminder and Cassian was more than glad to do it for you.

“There she is,” he murmured, giving your cheek another kiss before pulling you into his arms. “My bright, shining star.”

You melted into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping your lips as your hands trailed up his back, reveling in the solid strength beneath his shirt. “Your hugs are the best,” you whispered, nuzzling into his warmth.

"They are?"

His arms tightened around you, the familiar scent of him wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“Mm, you feel so strong. Makes me feel so…demure.”

Eris x Chaos Witch

The kitchen was nearly empty, the scent of cooked herbs and roasted meats still lingering in the air. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the stone walls, making the space feel both vast and suffocating. The cooks had long since retired, and only a few servants remained, their weary faces reflecting the strain of another long day in the Forest House.

The High Lord was away, leaving the Lady of Autumn and her sons that lived here to tend to. The noble lords and advisors who usually filled these halls were absent tonight, choosing to attend dinner only when Beron himself was present or if they were invited by Eris. It should have made the evening easier to endure, but one sharp comment from Reed had nearly shattered the delicate guise you'd worked so hard to maintain.

You felt Eris’s presence before he even crossed the threshold. A strange sensation creeping up your ribcage–like a warning.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the marble edge of the counter, the cold stone grounding you. A deep breath—one that burned your lungs—did little to quell the storm raging within. The servants, sensing the tension crackling in the air, quickly scattered, their hurried footsteps echoing off the walls.

His eyes, usually gleaming with mischief, were now sharp and assessing. He was close now, the heat of his body a reminder of the power he wielded—not just over flame, but over this entire court and perhaps, even over you…

Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to stir the darkness that lived inside you awake. That sinister and wicked side of you. The one that nearly slipped when Reed–

“That wasn’t very demure of you.”

Eris's tone was light and teasing, but beneath it lay a dark edge.

Demure.

The very epitome of the Autumn Court, reserved specifically for the fae females. A female was meant to be modest and reserved. Gentle and feminine. Quiet and docile. Dressed in muted Autumn colored dresses that left little to no skin exposed, allowing one to blend within backgrounds.

Never drawing attention to herself.

It was what you forced yourself to be. A demure, young fae that worked in the kitchens of the great Autumn estate, serving the dignified and vehement Vanserras. More like vain Vanserras…

But tonight, the quiet, demure, and soft-spoken facade nearly cracked, allowing the fierce, raging beast that lurked within to claw its way to the surface.

Eris was angry and he had every right to be. The weight of your secret hung heavily between you, a volatile force that threatened to consume everything if unleashed. However, you’d be damned if you’d let him know you were ever in agreement.

“The depth of my concern could not be further shallowed.” You replied sharply with a glare.

Eris took another step forward, gaze dropping briefly before lifting back up to meet yours. His lips curled up into a sneer. “Drop the knife.”

You clenched your hands and it was only then that you realized in the midst of your turmoil, you had picked up one of the knives on the counter, its sharp edge pointed at Eris.

“Drop the attitude first.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw and the fire in his eyes burned brighter. Strong and powerful magic surged through you but the blood that coursed through your veins was no different than any commoner’s. And you knew it irked him to be spoken in such a way by a common fae.

“I can kill you, you know,” he said casually, one hand reaching out for yours–the one that held the knife. He forced your hand down. “Save myself from all the trouble you bring…”

“Death does not frighten me.” You reminded him just as casually.

Eris’s eyes softened for a moment, a flicker of something you could not discern sparking in his amber gaze. But it was fleeting, replaced quickly by the calculating gaze of a future High Lord, one who was currently navigating a treacherous game. Much to his dismay, he needed you if he wanted a chance at winning. Just as much as you needed him…

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. He wanted you to tremble before him, to fear him. “Then, I will deny you death until you beg me on your knees for it.”

Your hand tensed against the knife you still held and Eris, whose hand still remained over yours, grew hot. Flames danced from his fingertips, heating against your skin. It was a fleeting kiss of heat that sent a sharp, tingling sensation coursing through your skin but not hot enough to burn. Not yet.

“Do you think about that image a lot? Of me on my knees?”

Eris’s hand left yours. A wave of relief washed over you and you resisted the urge to cradle your hand to your chest.

He took a step back, amber eyes sweeping over you with a slow, deliberate gaze. “It would suit you.”

“Keep dreaming, Vanserra.”

Eris's chuckle broke the silence, but it was a hollow sound, stripped of any true amusement. His eyes continued to bore into you with a searing intensity. "For both our sakes," he warned, his voice low and edged with a dangerous calm, "see that it doesn’t happen again."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing ominously. You stood alone, the lingering tension from his presence intertwining with your own growing anxiety.

With every beat of your heart, the darkness seemed to creep closer, and the storm of chaos you fought to contain felt ever more on the verge of breaking free.

a/n: When thinking about the demure trend, my mind had drifted to how each witch would be. Green witch gives off the most "demure" vibes. Then, I saw a tiktok resurfacing a clip from The Nanny of Fran saying she wants to be demure and it made me think of Love witch.

Chaos witch knows she's not demure, even though she has to pretend to be. I might actually use that scene between them in a one shot. It's hard writing short stuff for Eris & Chaos when I haven't written the prologue/introduction. I hope it's not confusing to follow along. For now, all you have to know is that they have their separate goals but must reluctantly work together if they want to see them come to light.

[witch au masterlist]

general witch tag list: @rcarbo1, @scorpioriesling, @ninthcircleofprythian

love witch tag list: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

@bxtchopolis

green witch tag list: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13

If you asked to be in a tag list and don't see your name, please let me know!

#azriel x reader #cassian x reader #eris x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel x y/n #eris x y/n #eris x you #azriel x you #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #azriel x green witch #cassian x love witch #eris x chaos witch #az!dandelions #dream!cas #chaos!eris

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little-diable · 8 months ago

Note

DIABLE. I feel your lack of inspiration deep within my soul as I, too, have been struggling.

That being said, I'm back on my Cillian Murphy bullshit and would love to see some domestic Tommy, maybe after a really long day of blood and gore he comes home to a plush world of softness and love and consideration and he can turn it all off.

My darling, thank you for sending this in, it definitely inspired me! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. <3

Summary: Tommy will always do what his wife asks of him, especially when he needs a few calm moments himself.

Warnings: nothing, just nudity, full on fluff and fun

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 800 words)

Somewhat of a follow up Drabble

It was a mild August evening, a day that had been too hot for (y/n)’s liking which had passed all too slowly. Perhaps it had been the fault of all the running around she had done – whatever it was, the second the kids had been put to sleep, she had told their staff to leave for the night, desperate for a few hours of silence.

The second she had been left alone, (y/n) had hurried outside, shoes long forgotten as she dragged the old, ceramic tub through the garden. Sweat had pooled on her forehead, forming pearly drops that dripped down to the ground, but she had been determined, set on cooling off while watching the sunset.

She had run back and forth to fill the tub, arms and legs begging her to slow down and rest for a minute or two. But (y/n) hadn’t stopped moving until the tub had been filled to her liking. And with a satisfied grin glued to her lips, she had shuffled out of her dress, underwear following moments later.

Her squeals had echoed through the evening as she had sunken into the cold water, unable to stop her laughter from clawing through her. She had been grateful that nobody else was around, they surely would have called her a hysteric madwoman, calling the doctors on her for the childish glee the cold water had shot through her veins.

(Y/n) was too focused on the sunset to hear the call of her name, she was also too distracted to pick up on the confused expression tugging on Tommy’s features as he spotted her through the windows. With a cigarette between his lips, he slowly stepped outside, undoing the buttons of his jacket as he moved closer.

“What a nice view to come home to, eh?” She jerked in surprise as Tommy spoke up, forcing her wide eyes towards her grinning husband. Tommy’s gaze wandered down her throat, watching the water drops stick to her soft skin. The water was clear enough to expose every inch of her body, leaving Tommy groaning as he dipped his head down to kiss her. “Tell me, how did that tub end up right here?”

“Well, what do you think? I doubt the faeries miraculously carried it over here.” A deep rumble of laughter vibrated through Tommy, momentarily reminded of the stories he had read to their children the night prior, feeding their obsession with faeries and mystical creatures. “Will you just stand there or join me like a good husband would?”

Tommy watched her for another moment before he threw his cigarette to the ground and began to shrug out of his clothes, exposing his body inch by inch. (Y/n) pulled her knees to her chest to make room behind herself, grinning in excitement as he began to step into the tub.

“Fucking hell, do you want me to freeze my cock off?” His curses left her giggling, eyes sparkling with mischief. But Tommy kept on moving with curses rolling off his tongue, till he finally got into a seated position. He pulled her against his chest with a hum, pressing a kiss to her cold cheek.

“How was your day?” (Y/n) murmured her words, eyes closed, head resting against Tommy’s shoulder. He interlaced his fingers with hers, letting his thumb run over the back of her hand with slow movements.

“Exhausting, sometimes I wonder if I’m still made for this life. I’m getting old, eh?” She froze in his grasp, let her eyes shoot open and slowly turned towards him. Her eyes wandered over Tommy’s exhausted features, instantly able to pick up on the hurt flushing through him, the anger he couldn’t shake, and the greedy desperation he had never been able to feed well enough.

(Y/n) cupped his cheek, she pressed a kiss to his lips before she began to speak up, “You’re anything but old, dear husband of mine. And trust me, if I’d feel like you’re getting old, I’d instantly sell you to the faeries.”

Loud laughter rumbled through him, a sound so carefree, (y/n) hadn’t heard it in a long time. And with a widening grin stuck to her lips, (y/n) pressed another kiss to Tommy's lips, knowing that their evening together was just about to get exciting.

#Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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hunnylagoon · 10 months ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving' or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

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lumiolivier · 12 days ago

Text

Treasures and Tragedies

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 7476

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Crocodile's week to have you all to himself. It's getting to the end of the week...and you feel more like it's getting to the end of your life...

You wanted to hide. It wasn’t often you wanted to hide away from your boys, but today was a day to hide. You were up in the middle of the night while Crocodile kept an arm around you, making sure his hook was out for the world to see. Just in case someone were to make their final mistake. And you knew then something wasn’t right. Something didn’t feel right. Any other night, Crocodile would have you drenched in sweat. The man was a space heater. Of everyone you slept with on a regular basis, you didn’t need much for blankets with Crocodile. But that was the thing. You couldn’t get warm to save your life.

You carefully slipped out of Crocodile’s grasp and made your way toward the bathroom. If he asked, you got up to pee. Nothing to bring attention to yourself. Nothing he would ask questions about. Everything would be fine. But when you got to the bathroom, you gripped onto the sink for dear life. Your short walk from the bed to the bathroom was enough to turn your legs to jelly. And if that wasn’t enough to turn your already not great stomach, the room decided to start moving on its own, too. You knew it. Deep down in your heart, you knew. You were getting sick.

And in your throat. And your lungs. And anything else that decided to reject its existence. If it could hurt, it did. And it was utter hell. But not nearly as much hell as you’d be in if the men in your life were to find out. As much as it’d suck, you dragged yourself down the hall to your room, leaving Crocodile alone in the bed you both once shared. That’s when you finally felt safe. And proceeded to violently throw up in your own bathroom. After you were done, you violently shook on the cold ceramic. Your chills made your back tighten up and in that moment, you wished for the sweet release of death.

“I do not envy you…”

You jumped at the unexpected voice floating above you, “Perona, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“You think I didn’t hear you yakking in here?” Perona perched herself on the edge of your bathtub, “How are you sick? Don’t the boys keep you wickedly healthy?”

“Mostly,” you gently nodded, “But regardless of how great my immune system is, even I can still get sick.”

“Poor baby…” Perona put a hand to your back, “You need to get back to bed?”

“Mmhm…”

“Here,” Perona helped you onto your feet and held you steady while you shuffled back to bed, “You want me to wake Mi-”

“No!” you pleaded, a few coughs escaping your throat, “Perona, no. Please. I know your heart is in the right place, but please. Don’t tell anyone I’m sick. Don’t tell Mihawk. Don’t tell Buggy. Don’t tell Crocodile. Just keep this between us. As far as you know, I caught my period before I could stain the sheets, so I just came in here. All I need is to get some sleep. The more I can get, the quicker I’ll get better. I do not need to have the boys hovering over me and treating me like I’m going to break if they look at me cross eyed. I don’t need that. Please, Perona, if you love me even a little bit, you’ll keep your mouth shut about me being sick.”

“I won’t say a word,” Perona promised, “But you know how they are with you. Someone’s bound to find out eventually. Even when you’re not sick, they’re up your ass in some way.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, “I know. But they’re going to have to not be clingy with me today. Just let me get back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Perona let it go, “Is there anything I can get for you? Do you need anything?”

“I’ll be alright,” you crawled into your bed and got comfortable. As much as you could at that point, “But thank you, Perona. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright,” Perona left you alone to get your rest.

And as much as you trusted her, you had a feeling she was going to say something to someone. To the wrong person. And you were going to end up having someone on your ass about being sick. But you shut your eyes and left that to be a problem for future you. For now, you were going back to sleep. And praying to all things holy and unholy that once you were awake, you would feel a million times better and this was just a weird dream.

When you started to come to again, you heard assorted chatter at your bedside. And a cool washcloth on your forehead. You didn’t remember putting that there last night. Not when you fell asleep almost immediately after your head hit the pillows. But you had to retrace your steps. You had your conversation with Perona. You felt like you were going to die. You were miserable and frozen, but you were appropriately wrapped up in blankets. Nowhere in there did you remember putting anything to your forehead. Nor do you remember inviting company.

“And she wakes…” The second your eyes opened, you knew you were screwed, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Mmm…” you sunk down into your blanket cocoon, the sun shining far too brightly from the window.

“You don’t ever wake up before I do,” Crocodile’s hook ran down your cheek, “And on the off chance you do, you don’t ever come in here. Which begs the question…”

“What brought you in here, darling?” Not only were you screwed, but you were double screwed.

“I…” your voice gave you away. You couldn’t write this off on a period. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try, “I got my period last night. And I came in here.”

“You don’t get your period until the end of my week, doll.” Scratch that. You were triple screwed.

“So,” Crocodile thought, “Other than that fever of yours, what brings you into your room?”

“I’m not running a fever,” you lied through your teeth, “It’s just freezing in here.”

“No,” Mihawk swapped out your washcloth, “Try again.”

“Alright.” Because you didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore, “I came in here last night. I threw up a bunch. I went back to bed. Happy?”

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Buggy sat on your bed, “No. Not at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, YN?” Crocodile asked, “At the very least, me. Hell, I was right there.”

“Because I knew this would happen,” you brushed them all off, “Because I knew you three would blow it out of proportion and, cough, cough, I don’t need that.”

“We’ve never blown anything out of proportion when it comes to you, treasure,” Mihawk cradled your cheek in his palm, “And you’re staying right here until you’re better. If we have to, we’ll be the ones to make sure you get that way.”

“He’s right,” Buggy agreed, “You’re precious to us, too. You’re falling apart at the seams, doll. We can take care of you, too.”

And that’s what worried you. But you’d be lying if you said your boys coming together for your sake didn’t warm your heart a little bit, “Alright. I’m not going to fight it. But you three have to make me a promise right here, right now.”

“Anything, Princess,” Crocodile insisted, “What do you need?”

“You don’t hover,” you ordered, “I know you three are going to try and give me the world and it’s only going to wreck yourselves in the process. It’s not worth it. Got it?”

The three of them shared a glance that always put a knot in your stomach. You weren’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but you knew that look. Deliberation amongst the three of them. You always thought they could read each other’s minds, but it was scarier yet. They read each other’s faces. They could have a full conversation without you hearing a word out of any of their mouths. But they did eventually come to an agreement.

“Alright, YN,” Mihawk nodded, “Understood. But we have demands of our own, too.”

“Come on, Mihawk…” you whined, stirring up another bout of coughing, “I’m sick. Aren’t I the one who gets to be making those demands?”

“In this case, no,” Mihawk put his foot down, “We’re essentially the only doctors you have here, darling. If there’s anything we decide you need, you’re getting it. Whether you want it yourself or not. Can we all agree to that?”

“Mmmm…” you groaned, burying yourself deeper in your blankets.

“Buggy,” Crocodile ordered, “Go call a supply ship and make an order. You know what we need.”

“On it,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead and took off for the office.

“Mihawk,” Crocodile began his declarations, but he was quickly shut down with one look from Mihawk. He knew better than to bark orders at Mihawk. He wasn’t overly thrilled about it, but he understood. Regardless of the Cross Guild setting up shop here, it was still Mihawk’s house. Crocodile didn’t respect many people in this world, but he could respect Mihawk, a fellow warlord who more than earned his station. And if not for that fact, it was because of you. Seeing the respect and admiration you had for Mihawk made it contagious. The only thing Crocodile didn’t respect was the furniture.

“You need me for something, Crocodile?” Mihawk asked, not a drop of condescension in his tone. Because that respect was mutual. No matter how much they may occasionally bicker. Besides, that’s what they had Buggy for. Buggy was where their irritations went.

“No,” Crocodile shook his head, “We’ll let YN get some more rest. I’ll take the first shift with her. Go ahead and do what you need to. If anything at all.”

“Thank you for your permission,” Mihawk retorted, already on his way out. But not before leaving you with a soft little kiss on your forehead, “If you need anything, darling, don’t hesitate to ask. Any of us.”

“Thank you, Mihawk…” you shut your eyes for a moment or two before you were right back to sleep. But you knew something was going to happen. There was no way you were going to be left alone for the day. You weren’t going to get that lucky.

Still, you felt like you were dying. So, what if your boys felt like doting on you a little bit? That was their prerogative. And even though it got under your skin, it was nice to know someone cared. It was nice to have several someones care. And you loved them for it. And if it wasn’t obvious before, they loved you, too. More than anything in the world. And it would show no more than when you were sick.

A little later in the day, when you woke up from your first nap, you felt another wave of nausea hit you. And it hit hard. When you opened your eyes, you noticed Crocodile taking a nap in your chair. A cup of tea sat on your nightstand, but things were about to get messy. As much as you wanted a drink from that tea (that was likely still a little warm), you went straight to your bathroom and proceeded with another round of violent retching that, much like it had earlier that morning, left you shaking again.

“YN?” And you may have woken up Crocodile in the process, “You ok, Princess?”

“Do I look like I’m ok?” you glared up at him from the floor, your head resting on the toilet seat.

“I asked a question,” Crocodile’s tone shifted, “I didn’t ask for you to snap at me.”

��Crocodile,” you sighed out, “Sweetheart, I love you. You know I do. But right now, I am not going to be sunshine and lollipops. Do forgive me.”

“I know, I know,” Crocodile scooped you up into his arms. And you reveled in his warmth, his strength. You wanted nothing more than just a little time with Crocodile. Just to be close. If this is what it meant every time you were to go throw up, then so be it. When he put you back down in your bed, he noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, “What’s that all about?”

“What?” your voice broke. Was it because you were just throwing up or was it something else? You hardly realized you were crying.

“No…” Crocodile sat on your bed and let you curl back up in his arms, “No, no, no…What’s the matter, YN?”

“I don’t know…” you wept. Even though you were perfectly aware. You didn’t want Crocodile to go. You didn’t want him to go back to your chair. You wanted him right there. You wanted him to be within arm’s reach. You wanted him to be around you. And just the thought of him walking out of the room kicked your tears up even worse. Which only made your coughing even worse than that.

“Must be your fever,” Crocodile put a hand to your forehead, “Still kind of high. But I think it’s breaking. We’ll call that a win.”

“Please,” you clung to him, your tears soaking through his shirt, “Don’t go. Please…Don’t leave me.”

“Shh…” Crocodile ran his hand through your hair and down your back, “Don’t you worry, Princess. I’m not going anywhere. I got you. But you’re due for another round of medicine soon. And you know what that means?”

“Hmm?”

“That means I’m going to hand you off to either Buggy or Mihawk,” Crocodile gently broke the news to you, “I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but someone’s going to have to handle the supply ship when it comes in.”

“But you said I had medicine,” you remembered, “I thought we were out this morning.”

“That was this morning,” Crocodile pointed out, “YN, you’ve been out for a while. We’ve had a supply ship come in already. We’re waiting on another one. There were some things we forgot the first time around. I’ll take care of that one. You’ll be alright with someone else. I’m not sure who won that game of rock, paper, scissors, but you won’t be alone. I promise. Ok?”

“Ok.” You loved Buggy. You loved Mihawk. But right now, there’s no one you wanted more than Crocodile.

“It’s alright,” Crocodile assured you, “I’ll be back. And if you need me, all you have to do is yell for me. Ok? You know I’ll come running.”

“Thank you,” you nestled your tear stained face into Crocodile’s ribs.

“Of course, Princess,” Crocodile held you close, “Of course, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Crocodile,” Mihawk stood in the doorway with a pair of tablets in his hands and a glass of water, “Buggy’s looking for his fishnets, so I have YN’s medicine. I’ll take the next shift.”

“She’s a little clingy, Mihawk,” Crocodile wasn’t letting you go, “I appreciate you bringing her medicine, but I don’t think she’s going to let me go anywhere.”

“If that’s the case,” Mihawk put your water and medicine down on the nightstand got in your bed on the other side of you, “I guess I’ll just have to be here, too.”

“I got her, Mihawk,” Crocodile kept his arm around you, “Go ahead and do whatever. I’m sure your protégé is looking for you for yet another futile sparring match.”

“No,” Mihawk pushed your matted hair out of your face, “He left a few days ago. I’m surprised you didn’t get your own licks in.”

“With the rest of the Straw Hats here?” Crocodile laughed, “No. I don’t have a death wish. And I’m sure if I even thought about going near their captain, your son, but not your son would be the first to drive the nail in my coffin.”

“Hey, guys?” you spoke weakly, hoping to break up the potential fight brewing between them, “Can we not talk about dying when I actually feel like I’m dying? That’d be wonderful.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk left a little kiss on top of your head, “We didn’t upset you, did we?”

“No,” you let a few coughs out, “But I really do feel like shit. And I’d rather you two didn’t try to kill each other in my bed.”

“Alright,” Crocodile let it go, “But truly, Mihawk, go. I have her handled.”

“Fine,” Mihawk got up from your bed, “If you need anything, YN, you know where to find me.”

“And I’ll probably send Crocodile to find you,” you giggled a little, “Because there’s no way in hell either one of you are going to let me get up for anything other than the bathroom. And even that’s iffy.”

“Get some rest, darling,” Mihawk covered you up a little more, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you cracked a little smile and curled back up with Crocodile. And you shut your eyes again.

But that’s when the medicine kicked in. And your fever started to take hold of your brain and put it in a paint shaker. When you shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your brain turned into colors. Swirling shades of blues and greens and shades of gray only to have them fade into pinks and yellows and all the pretty colors of the sunset. And you were perfectly content. Until it turned.

Your beautiful, cold medicine and fever concoction turned violent. The sunset went away and turned into black and red. And an empty room with a cold, cement floor and red splatters all over the place. You looked around the room and found a heavy chain around your wrist. All while you noticed dead bodies on the floor still twitching. A voice echoed through the room. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. And it only got louder and louder until you finally realized who those bodies were. And how you were soaked to the bone in blood that was not your own.

“YN…” you felt your body shake, “YN, wake up…”

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest when your eyes opened back up. Thankfully, still living and breathing, Crocodile held you tight, doing his best to get you to calm down. But when you looked up at him, you felt the tears pouring out of your eyes, “Crocodile…You’re ok…”

“Of course, I am, Princess,” Crocodile pinned you to his chest and let you cry it out, “Of course, I am. I’m not going anywhere. You know that. I’ve already shooed off Mihawk and Buggy and Perona today. I told you before you fell asleep. I am not going anywhere. What happened?”

“I…” you wept, “I…I killed you…And Mihawk and Buggy. Everything was so nice, but then…”

“Shhh…” Crocodile cradled you in his arms, making sure nothing could get to you ever again, “It’s alright, YN. It’s alright. It’s all over now. You just had a little nightmare. It’s ok. It’s all done. I promise.”

“I hate it,” you snarled, “I fucking hate it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Crocodile settled you, “But it’s done now. You don’t have to think about it anymore. I know you’d never kill me. You know you’d never kill me. It’s ok. I forgive you.”

“Really…?” your bloodshot eyes looked up at one of the men you loved more than anything and held so dear and most definitely didn’t want dead.

“Really,” Crocodile let you get comfortable in his shoulder, “You know, YN…It’s been a while since I held anyone like this.”

“When was the last time?” you wondered, not really seeing Crocodile as much of the cuddly type. Except when you were involved.

“If we can keep it between us,” Crocodile began.

“Of course,” you swore.

“I had a baby like this,” Crocodile sighed out, getting lost in a nostalgic haze, “He was sick at the time, too. His father was out looking for medicine, but there wasn’t much where we were at the time, so he had to go on an honest journey for the sake of finding a doctor who could get us some. And he cried so much. He hurt so much. And of course, he didn’t fully understand what was going on, so that just made it worse. And there was nothing more I could do. Broke my heart to hear him scream like that. But he did get better.”

“What happened to the baby?” you asked, nestling further into Crocodile’s embrace.

“He ended up going to live with his grandfather for a while. And I didn’t see him for a long time until he popped up in Alabasta. He doesn’t know how well connected we are, but…” You saw a strange sadness fall over Crocodile’s face. Only for him to snap back into taking care of you mode, “That was a long time ago. And nothing you need to worry about. Just go back to sleep, ok, Princess? We need to get you better.”

“And I will get better,” you cuddled into him, letting him know that with as much as he’s there for you, you’re there for him, too, “That’s what I got you for.”

“That’s right…” You didn’t know it, but you might have made Crocodile’s day with that statement, “Now, get some sleep or your next round of medicine is going in you as a suppository.”

“So demanding,” you giggled deliriously, “Maybe I want it that way.”

“You are a special kind of freak, YN,” Crocodile hugged you tight, “Just get some sleep. Ok?”

“Okie dokie…” your delirium took over. And then, your delirium took you under.

When you started to come to a little while later, you felt yourself in someone else’s arms. That was not Crocodile anymore. And your heart immediately started racing. Not only were you moved, but Crocodile was no longer there. You thrashed and freaked until you realized the sound around you. Splashing. Water. Bathroom. Bathtub? Bathtub. Bathroom. Your bathroom. The same place you had thrown up earlier that morning. What were you doing there?

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk cradled you in his chest, “It’s alright. We didn’t want you slipping into the water and you had thrown up on yourself earlier. You’re ok.”

Your heartrate started to settle and you became much more acutely aware of the horrendous taste in your mouth. It was ok. Everything was ok. And yet, you had one question burning in your mind, “Where’s Crocodile?”

“Taking care of your sheets,” Mihawk told you, “I’m hoping this bath breaks your fever a little, too. It’s almost there. We just need it to drop another degree or two.”

“Ok…” You weren’t upset to be held by Mihawk. But you missed Crocodile’s warmth around you. You missed the softness. You missed the tender way he held you…

“YN…?” Speak of the devil, Crocodile poked his head into your bathroom, “I thought I heard your voice in here.”

“I’m here…” you replied weakly, “Sorry for throwing up on you.”

“No need for that, Princess,” Crocodile brushed it off, “You didn’t even throw up on me. Your bedding can’t say the same, but it’ll be alright. That can be washed. You can be washed. And I’m sure Mihawk’s more than accommodated you in that respect. Hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has,” Mihawk nodded, “And everything has been entirely pure and innocent, Crocodile. I’m not breaking any rules here. She’s sick. We’re taking care of her.”

“Everyone except Buggy,” Crocodile pointed out.

“Where is Buggy?” you wondered.

“I’m surprised he was with you as long as he was this morning,” Crocodile admitted, “The guy’s got a thing about germs and getting sick. It’s the performer in him.”

“I think that’s the first time you called him a performer,” you giggled, letting a few coughs out, “instead of a narcissist.”

“Is he not a little full of himself?” Mihawk scoffed, “Come on, YN. You know him, too.”

“Just a little,” you shut your eyes again, “But that’s ok. I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

“Really?” Mihawk looked at you like you were on drugs. But in your defense, you kind of were.

“Mmhm…”

“You’re delirious, Princess,” Crocodile got a towel for you and scooped you out of the water, “Come here. Let’s get you back to bed. As much as I love seeing you hot, wet, and naked, this isn’t the right context.”

“Love you, too, Crocy…” you rolled into the towel and got comfortable right where you belonged.

Crocodile gave a grateful nod to Mihawk, who had to get his own towel. Crocodile was a sweetheart to you. But you were also you, “Crocodile?”

“What?” Crocodile turned on his heel.

“I know you’re going to bring her back to bed,” Mihawk thought, “But pray tell, which bed are you putting her in? I’m sure hers hasn’t been properly cleaned yet. And if it has, there’s no way it’s dry.”

“I have it all taken care of, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know how to take care of YN when she’s sick? Or anyone for that matter? I did it with him. I’ll do it with her, too.”

Mihawk looked at Crocodile strangely, “Him who, Crocodile?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crocodile kept a tight lip as he brought you back to your room. However, you weren’t going to your bed. Because as Mihawk suggested, there was still a wet spot on the edge of your bed where you were presumably laying when the incident went down. No, no. You were brought into Crocodile’s bed. But you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Crocodile,” you spoke softly, “Why are we here?”

“I’m not putting you back in your bed,” Crocodile gently lowered you back down to the mattress, “It’s still a little wet.”

“But what about you?” you wondered, “I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” Crocodile settled you, tucking you in his massive bed, “You just need to worry about getting better. And even that, we have taken care of. I’m going to get you a t-shirt, ok?”

“Ok.” You always did love sleeping in Crocodile’s t-shirts. You always drowned in them and made you feel little and dainty. Much like sleeping with Crocodile did. He babied you. And you weren’t mad about it.

“Here, sweetheart,” Crocodile came back with a gray t-shirt just for you and helped you in it, “Go back to sleep, ok? I’ll go get your medicine and when I get back, you’re taking it. Got it?”

“Yes, sir…” you gave him a little fake pout as you nestled down in his bed. And after you popped your next round of medicine, you were back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms.

**********

“Thank you for coming. I know it was short notice.”

“Of course. I have an obligation to help those who need it. And clearly, she’s been in rough shape.”

“We’ve been doing all we can for her, but it feels like she’s not getting any better.”

“Well, she’s not running a fever anymore, so we can chalk that up as a win.”

Slowly, but surely, you opened your eyes when you felt a foreign pair of hands on your chest, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Excuse me?” the man stared you down, not sure if he wanted to cure you or kill you. But then, you got a better look at him. And for a brief moment, you forgot you were already in a committed relationship with three other men. He was pretty…

“It’s alright, YN,” Mihawk assured you, sitting at your bedside with Crocodile, “I called for a doctor. He showed up. And he’s damn good at what he does.”

You knew those knuckles. You’ve heard stories about those knuckles. The word death tattooed across them. And in your current condition, that wasn’t exactly comforting, “Trafalgar Law…”

“That’s me,” he nodded, “Look, I have some medicine on the ship. By the looks of things, she just caught a tinge of the flu. She’ll make it, but for the sake of nipping it in the bud, I’ll give her something. Unfortunately, the quickest way for it to get through her system is intravenously. Is that something we’re all good with?”

“Yes,” Mihawk agreed.

“Yes,” Crocodile wasn’t much different.

“Hold on.” You, on the other hand, weren’t exactly a fan of the word intravenous. Intravenous meant needles. Needles meant pain. Pain meant you having a not good day. And you were already miserable.

“No,” Crocodile took your hand, “I know it’s not going to be pleasant, YN, but it’s the quickest way to get you better. If we agree to this, how long until she’d be a hundred percent again?”

“With a decent night’s sleep?” Law thought it over, “She’d probably be better by the morning. Completely. That doesn’t mean she won’t be still a little contagious. So, I’d suggest the two of you still exercise caution around her. While I’m getting her meds ready, I can set you both up with a heavy duty round of vitamin C.”

“If it means still being able to sleep with her tonight,” Crocodile thought, “It’s worth it. Misery doesn’t ever mind a little bit of company, does it?”

“Nope,” you cuddled into Crocodile’s side, “Thank you…”

“I probably should, too, then,” Mihawk sighed out, taking your hand, “Besides, it’s, what, one little tablet?”

“If only,” Law started heading out of Crocodile’s bedroom, “So, that’s a round of peramivir for you and two bags of vitamin C. A boring day of work, but they can’t all be a bloodbath.”

“Wait a second,” Mihawk started to piece things together, “Did I just sign up for needles, too?”

“You sure did,” Crocodile smirked, “What’s the matter, Mihawk? Not a fan of needles?”

“I’m concerned for anyone who says they are,” Mihawk admitted, “But yes. I might not be the biggest fan of needles.”

“Me either,” you took Mihawk’s hand. Because even in your state, you weren’t going to stoop to Crocodile’s level. They didn’t have to love each other, but they loved you more than anything, “But we’ll be alright…If it means me getting better and you and Crocodile not getting sick, we’ll get through it.”

“Then,” Mihawk suggested, “Shouldn’t we get Buggy involved, too?”

“No way in hell!” Buggy yelled down the hall, “You two were dumb enough to stick around! I don’t need that!”

“There it is,” Crocodile found Buggy’s ear sitting behind the cigar box on his dresser. He held it up to his mouth and let out a guttural growl, “Listen well, clown. You ever bug my bedroom again and we will have a problem. Do we understand?”

“Crocy…Baby…” Buggy got defensive, sending his mouth your way, too, “I wasn’t bugging your bedroom, per se. I was worried about YN, too. I just wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, too.”

“Then, get your ass in here…” Crocodile winged Buggy’s ear out the door, “Fucking clown…Why do we put up with him?”

But then, you saw a pair of cheeks fly into Crocodile’s room. And you immediately knew what they were. It made you laugh, but your laughter made you cough. Still, it was enough to put a smile on your face. And that’s all that mattered. However, Crocodile and Mihawk weren’t nearly as amused as you were. That didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Buggy,” Mihawk held his face in his hands, “If you sent your literal ass into this room, my foot is about to go into it.”

“Are you threatening me with a good time, hawk eyes…?”

“Buggy!”

“Alright, alright!” Buggy retracted his floating hiney and let those sleeping dogs lie.

Although, when Law walked back in, he couldn’t help but scratch his head, “Did I just see a floating ass in the hallway?”

“We call her Perona,” you joked a bit, “Unless you were talking about Buggy’s ass. Then, yes, you did.”

“Anyway,” Law just chalked it up to casual stupidity and held three bags in his hand and a few drip stands, “I need three arms out.”

“You mean, you need YN’s arm out,” Mihawk corrected him, “Right?”

“No,” Law shook his head, already prepping your arm for the IV, “I mean, I need three arms out. Because once I got hers in, you two are getting it, too.”

“And,” Mihawk hoped, “You really don’t have it in some kind of pill form?”

“Not this strength,” Law told him, “The amount you two need is in these bags.”

“I can’t believe it,” Crocodile teased, “You’re really afraid of needles.”

“I’m human,” Mihawk snapped a bit, “Even I have fears and weaknesses…Just happens to be needles. Fuck off, Crocodile. No one asked you.”

“Are you going to be ok, YN?” Law asked, tuning the others out.

“Mmhm.” You weren’t thrilled about it either, but if it meant you getting better, then so be it. You’d suck it up for just a moment or two.

“Are you sure?” Law kept your eye contact, “Because I know these aren’t always pleasant.”

“I don’t want to meet the person that finds genuine enjoyment in getting administered IVs,” you chuckled to yourself.

“Why’s that?” Law glanced over at Crocodile, knowing he was the rock in the room.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you admitted, “I’m no stranger to enjoying a little bit of pain from time to time, but it has to be in the right context. It has to be cough, cough just the right amount. There has to be an exit.”

“So,” Law assumed, “You’re into that sort of thing? Because it sounds like you’ve experienced it a time or two before.”

“Look who I’m sitting between,” you rolled your eyes, “Two of the biggest sadists I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Of course, we’ve played around with pain before.”

“And would you look at that?” Law cracked a little smirk, “You’re already a quarter of the way through your bag. Didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

“What?” you looked down at the needle stuck in your arm and the tube attached to the needle, “When did you do that?”

“Around the time you said you didn’t want to meet the sick weirdo that was into getting IVs,” Law pointed out, “I’ve worked with little kids before, YN. I know how to distract better than anyone. I bet I could keep Mihawk from passing out, too.”

“Really?”

“Really?” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “I don’t pass out.”

“Uh-huh,” Law scoffed, “You were just talking about how you had a fear of needles.”

“And?” Mihawk’s tirade continued, “What does that have to do with anything? It’s like I said. I’m human. What? Am I not allowed to have fears now? Just because I’m a big, scary warlord means I’m somehow no longer allowed to have emotion? Fine. Then, I guess I’ll just sit here and be a stone. I’m sorry, YN. I can no longer love you. And I can no longer get pissed when Crocodile puts scorch marks in my furniture. And unfortunately, I also can’t draw delight from whenever you punt Buggy’s head down the hallway.”

“But you can shut up and take your vitamin C drip,” Law brushed him off, turning the nozzle on Mihawk’s bag, “I told you so.”

“What?” Mihawk finally realized there was something in his arm. There was an IV in his arm. There was a needle stuck in his arm. And his vision started to go white, “See? I told…I told you…”

And there he went. His head flopped onto your shoulder while the vitamin C drip ran through his body. And of course, Crocodile couldn’t leave that alone, “And I told you so. How do you do that, Law?”

“I hold a little conversation,” Law explained, “Get someone going on a rant, they’re not going to give a shit about anything else that’s going on around them. Easy.”

“Did you just treat me like a toddler?!” Mihawk clutched his chest.

“Are you throwing a tantrum like a toddler?” Law wasn’t dealing with it. He was already out of his way. He didn’t need to also deal with Mihawk pitching a fit, “Because if I wanted to deal with tantrums, I would’ve stayed with Doflamingo.”

“Maybe I should tell Doflamingo about this,” Mihawk threatened.

“But let’s be honest,” Law jabbed the needle in Crocodile’s arm. Crocodile, who sat perfectly still and hardly flinched, “Do you really want to deal with Doflamingo?”

“I mean…” Mihawk admitted, “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t fun to be a little catty with at World Government meetings. But that’s as far as I really wanted to go with him.”

“You and me both,” Crocodile agreed.

“Now,” Law looked over at your bag that was sucked dry and gently pulled the needle out of your arm, “You’re going to get some more sleep. By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you should be alright again. If you’re not, I’ll come back.”

“Ok,” you got comfortable again, “And since they’re both juiced up on vitamin C, does that mean I can still sleep with Crocodile tonight?”

“Are you serious?” Law stared blankly at you, “You’re still going to have sex with Crocodile in your condition? Damn, YN. I’m not sure if I’m impressed by your stamina or appalled at your stupidity.”

“No,” you held your face in your hands, “I meant sleep. I’m not used to sleeping without another warm body in my bed. I’d rather not do that.”

“Oh,” Law let it go, “Personally, I wouldn’t advise it, but if it’s alright with all involved, then go for it. At your own risk.”

“Ok…”

“But…” Law chuckled to himself while Mihawk slumped down after his needle got pulled out, “I think you might need to make room in the bed for Mihawk, too.”

“Not a chance,” Crocodile shot that down immediately, “It’s my week. Mihawk can wait his turn. Mihawk, wake the fuck up and get out of my bed.”

Nothing.

“Looks like he’s done,” Law shook it off, “Crocodile, give me your arm. You’re done, too.”

“The shit I do for you, YN,” Crocodile watched Law pull his needle out.

“Thank you…” And you love him for it, “Thank you, Law.”

“You’re welcome,” Law grabbed his things, “I suggest putting Mihawk somewhere comfortable.”

“That isn’t here,” Crocodile added, scooping Mihawk into his arms, “YN, I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok,” you could already feel your eyes getting a little heavier. All you wanted now was some sleep. And the fact that you had that pretty doctor taking care of you didn’t hurt.

“Knock, knock…” Although, while Crocodile was busy putting Mihawk to bed, you had a special visitor, “How you feeling, doll?”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smiled a bit, “Well, I still feel like shit, but I think I’ll make it. Full recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” Buggy wasn’t moving from the doorway. It’s not that he didn’t want to get close to you, but he also didn’t want to get close to you, “So, what are we thinking? Are you going to be ok by next week?”

“I should be fine by tomorrow,” you assured him, “Don’t worry, Buggy. I won’t be sick next week.”

“Because,” Buggy sent his hand out to you, gently caressing your cheek, “I have a few new toys in my room that I want us to try out. And I want you to feel up to it. Got it?”

“I will,” you promised, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good girl,” Buggy brought his hand back, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take an excruciatingly hot shower.”

“I understand.” Never did you expect Buggy to be the one with a germ thing, but you weren’t going to fault him much for it. Instead, you decided to shut your eyes. Just for a moment or two. You wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost sleep you being sick has caused. But alas…You still couldn��t get that lucky.

“So, are you dead?” And Perona never really had much for tact.

“I’m not dead,” you groaned, “I’m just tired, Perona. And in my own special hell. Can I go to sleep yet?”

“I can’t check up on you?” Perona scoffed, “Honestly, YN. I thought we had something special, too. Not just you and the boys.”

“We do,” you threw your head back into the pillows, “But I’m also miserable. And tired.”

“And don’t think I didn’t hear that crack about you calling me an ass!” Perona pouted.

“That’s great, Perona…” You drifted in and out of consciousness. And you were perfectly ok with that.

“I’m not an ass!”

“Mmhm…”

“I am a fucking sweetheart, thank you very much!”

“Good talk, Perona…”

“And you are damn lucky to have me in your life!”

“Mmm…” But you were done. You were going to let Perona continue her tirade, but you were done with it. It was time for you to go to sleep. Whether Perona was happy about it or not. You needed the rest. In all honesty, if Mihawk hadn’t passed out after his IV, he would’ve gladly shooed her away for you. But alas, Mihawk had to go and pass out after his IV coming out. But you weren’t going to fault him for it. As long as you got to go back to sleep.

“Perona, get the hell out of here.” Much like that, but instead of it coming out of Mihawk, you got it from Crocodile instead. Although, you weren’t expecting to be fully woken up by it.

“You’re no fun,” Perona pouted, “Where’s Mihawk? I guess I could go fuck with him.”

“He’s passed out in his bed,” Crocodile reported, “The big baby can’t handle needles, apparently.”

“Poor thing,” Perona grinned, the sadism stirring in her heart.

“You’re the worst, Perona,” you made a little more room for Crocodile.

“I know.” And just like that, Perona was gone. Likely off to screw with Mihawk in unspeakable ways. If not Mihawk, you knew she was going to go take it all out on Buggy. Much like everyone else would.

Your arms went up to Crocodile, quietly begging him to come to bed. Of course, he couldn’t say no to you. He crawled back into his bed and you stuck right to him like a magnet. Crocodile’s giant hands ran idly down your back, “You should be back to sleep already, Princess.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “I was waiting for you to get back here.”

“You would’ve been able to sleep without me,” Crocodile brushed you off, “I’m sure whatever Law gave you had some kind of tranquilizer in it.”

“I don’t think so,” you nestled into Crocodile’s ribs, “Crocy…I’m tired…”

“Clearly,” Crocodile chuckled to himself, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart. Ok?”

“I will…” And so, you drifted back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms, refusing to be anywhere else. Between Crocodile’s warmth, your general exhaustion, and your medicine kicking in, there was no way you wouldn’t sleep through the night. You didn’t care about anything else. You had your blankets. You had your warlord of the week. You were done.

Purupuru…

“Yeah?” Crocodile kept his voice down, making sure not to wake you. Granted, that ship had already sailed, but you were curious, so you kept your eyes shut, “Hi. It’s been a while, hasn’t it…? I’d be happy to, but forgive my skepticism…I wouldn’t say we parted ways as best buddies…Look, I can’t really talk right now…Yeah. She’s been sick for the last day or so. It hasn’t been pretty. Kind of reminded me of when we were taking care of Luffy when he was little…I know. Scared the shit out of me…Yeah, yeah. She’ll be fine. We got a doctor to her and he juiced her up with something. He called it peramivir. He juiced Mihawk and me, too, but that was just vitamin C…Good. She needed something strong…Thank you. That’s oddly kind of you. Are you dying…? I know. Maybe one day, if she’s alright with it. You do know where I’m staying these days, right…? Mihawk’s. Just call ahead first…Don’t go getting sentimental on me…Good night.”

“Crocodile…?” You stirred at his side, “What was that all about?”

“What was what, Princess?” Crocodile put his hand up to your forehead and let out a little sigh of relief, “Good. That shit works fast.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered.

“Your fever’s gone,” Crocodile reported, “You’re almost all better. Remind me to send Law a fruit basket.”

“Will do,” you went back to sleep, letting that conversation slip your mind.

“Go back to sleep, YN,” Crocodile pulled your blankets back over you.

“Yes, sir…”

145 notes · View notes

we-out-here-simping · 6 months ago

Text

Kiss it away, honey.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

summary: you have a perfect and loving boyfriend, and everything should be great but something is just not right.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: use of y/n, no pronouns used (gn!reader), use of pet names (honey, etc), codependency, dark themes, a new flavor of jealousy, horror (spookies and scawies), gore, murder

a/n: yall remember when i was yapping about clones and all that? yeah. I went a lil feral while writing this lmao✌️🤪

another banger by @procrastinationprincesses and I on tumblr dot com. Thank her for listening to me babble on and just helping me sift through the different routes this could go and also being what is basically my proofreader

i might write a part two of this. do not ask me when.

masterlist

You haven’t changed out of your work clothes yet, staring at the phone on the wall.

It was silent now but it had rung, blaring, louder than you'd ever heard it before. Five times it had rung.

5 calls– 5 missed calls. Unknown number. No voicemail.

You hadn't picked up. You had just stared, you weren’t sure why– the ringing scared you. you weren't sure why but every fiber in your being had coloured you stuck– immovable even if you wanted to do otherwise.

Now it had stopped, empty as vacuum, dead quiet left in the wake of those shrill rings.

And just when you were about to let out a sigh of relief, just when you thought you could finally get to changing out of your work clothes, it started ringing again, your temples hurt from its shrill notes.

Your nostrils flared, you will not cower, no, you huff of frustration before stomping towards the phone. Its red plastic is just as bright as it had been when you had first gotten it with Steve.

It's probably just a prank call. It's a prank call. A stupid kid doing a stupid prank call. Why the hell is your heartbeat so loud?

You pick up the receiver, gripping it tight, ready to give the prank caller a piece of your mind.

Hello? Hey you stupid shithole, find something better to do with your stupid, pathetic life, why dont ya’? Good fucking night.

“He– hello?”, your voice comes out nowhere near as fierce as you had wanted it to be.

The line is silent for a second or two. But then you hear a gasp and then some rustling, crackle. You strain your ears, the sounds seemingly impossible to decipher, “hello, who– who is this?”

You think you hear muffled crying, after a few seconds they finally speak up, “y/n”, their voice is of a woman's. “y/n–” is all they choke out before breaking out into a sob. She says your name as if she hasn't said it in a long while, as if she can't believe she’s saying it. And you don’t know why but you feel your eyes sting. You press the receiver closer to your ears, the plastic creaks under your grip. you think you recognise her. The realisation hits you that you do. She sounds familiar.

“y/n, my baby where–” you hear a click, followed by beep beep beep beep, indicating that the call has been disconnected. This time you blink, a tear finally trickles down your cheek. You stare at the receiver, the beeping barely audible. You take in a deep breath, and dial the number again, waiting for the ring or the woman’s voice.

The ring never comes, her voice never comes. Invalid number.

You stare at it. If you were to look any harder, you think the plastic would melt. Too many thoughts were running through your head. And why the hell are you crying?

You hear the jingle of keys followed by the sound of the door opening. You tear your burning gaze away from the phone to the clock. 7:08 p.m.

“Steve?”

“Yeah!” he answers back immediately, you hear the door shut, the keys in his hand jingle again followed by the clink of them landing in the ceramic ashtray-turned-bowl next to the door where you keep your keys.

Any other day you would have walked to him, and even if he’d be in the middle of taking his shoes off he’d stop, give you a loving smile, hold his arms up, ready to engulf you into a hug. Any other day, you would have wrapped your arms around his torso, kissed his shoulder before burying your nose into his neck.

He is the only one who could ever fix you, everyday you come from work, bags under your eyes, tired to your bones and everyday he comes and puts you all back together as if it was the easiest thing to do, as if he was made for it. And you want to go to him so bad. Any other day, you would have. But today doesn't seem like any other day.

“Hey honey”, he finally comes around the corner and he gives you that smile you love being on the receiving end of, all lazy and adorning, “haven't changed out yet?”

You look back down at yourself, and you see that you had still been stuck, body still facing the wall where the phone hung. you indeed haven't changed out yet. You barely shake your head before his brows scrunch up, “You okay? Your eyes look all red”

You blink before shaking your head, “Uh, yeah, yeah. I’ll go ch–”

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

What you were saying is left abandoned, your head snaps towards where the phone is.

“I’ll get it. You go change,” Steve tells you, not noticing your immediate panic. As he ambles to the phone, you slowly shuffle away– moving towards the bathroom, making sure to listen in on the conversation. “Hello?” you hear him speak into the receiver, he pauses for a second and so do you in your tracks, “..oh hey, Henderson'', you breathe out in relief at hearing the familiar name, “Yeah, yep, doing good. How’s the new place treatin’ ya?”

The audibility of his words lessens as you continue on your way to the bathroom. In the small, tiled room, your own breathing echoes, it engulfs you. you immediately regret not just changing in your room because you can't hear Steve’s voice anymore. But you have already locked the door. You weren’t sure why you did– maybe it was your uneasiness and apprehension but normally you never lock the door because your ever clingy Steve loves joining you in, majority of the time there is nothing sexual about it. Most of the time he just stands there by the door, that same adorning smile on his lips.

When you step out of your jeans, it rings in your brain, again and again. The piercing ringing of the phone, the woman’s voice. You know that voice. You know that voice. You know that woman, you are certain. It is like its on the tip of your tongue, like it is obscured behind a frosted glass, like an itch you can’t scratch.

A knock on the bathroom door breaks you out of your thoughts, “uh honey?” the voice comes muffled through the wood, “Are you done? Need to take a piss.”

“Yeah, just–” you quickly hop into your shorts, balling up your dirty clothes and tossy them into the laundry basket before unlocking the door.

And he is there, that smile blooms across his face, “there you are”, and then his lips are on yours, his wide palm comes to hold your face, thumb rubbing softly at your cheeks— he’s a tactile being, your boyfriend, loves holding your face, loves holding you, touching you anywhere.

When his fingers burrow into your hair behind your ear, you somehow manage to breathe out between the deepening kisses, “Thought you had to take a piss”

“Don't bring up pissing when I’m kissing you”

“Oh, but its okay when you wanna hold my hand while pooping?” He once told you he’d hold your hand while pooping if you’d let him– he had been absolutely drunk, maybe high off weed– inebriated, really and didn't remember saying it the next day. you love to tease him about it. he groans at the mention.

“I was high”, he whines, embarrassed, “I told you I didn't mean it.”

“Drunk words… sober thoughts, honey.”

“You said it was endearing”

“It is endearing but still a weird thing to say”, you laugh all toothy and cute.

“Whatever, I gotta piss”, he mumbles trying his best to hide his smile before moving you by your shoulders to swap places with you so it’s him who is in the bathroom. He shuts the door, the sound of the lock clicking never reaches your ears.

You’re left alone with your thoughts again, and your smile fades away– you’re anxious, you know that much. You’re not so sure of what exactly. You plop down on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing restlessly, finger tracing over the pattern of the sheets. The pillows and comforter are set up perfectly for the night– every morning Steve sets the bed while you shower knowing you always get frustrated with the task.

Your back sinks into the mattress, you breathe out, deep and slow, eyes closing on their own accord. You almost fall asleep for a second, but the bathroom door clicks open. A few seconds later, the bed dips beside you, the fabric rustles, “tired?” the question is followed by a groan. When you peak a look, you find him stretching out his arms beside you.

“Absolutely”, you answer.

“Yeah, me too,” he sighs out.

“We still have to make food.”

He lets a frustrated groan tumble from his lips, “can't we just have mac and cheese today?”

…

The night goes by in a breeze, not a lot of talking.

The love is still there though, in the way that Steve holds the corner of the open cabinet door to make sure your head doesn't hit it, in the way he lets you sit on the countertop while waiting for the water to boil over, in the way you stare at him when you think he isn't looking, in the way you pull his hand over your lap and massage the tight muscles of his palm while he stirs the pot with his other hand.

You put on his favourite show when he plates the food, he makes sure to put some chives on your plate to make it look a little more pretty for you. You watch the show in silence, eating under the flickering light of the tv. You let it play in the background while you wash the dishes, it is Steve who watches you this time, his head resting against the cabinets behind him. and he thinks he could watch you all day. Something about doing the most mundane things with you makes him feel all warm and lovely. He is sure that past anything grand and dramatic, its the everyday things that show love. He hopes in every world, he gets to hold you and love you. He thinks he'll give it all up just to be with you, just to watch you wash dishes, just to have you sit beside him while he cooks.

When the dishes are done, he makes sure the doors are locked, you turn off the lights and the TV. Before you know it you’re in bed, and before you know it, you’re already falling asleep.

…

At first you weren’t sure why you were awake. Then you hear shuffling behind you, and you barely even roll over when there is a warm hand on your hip, “honey,” he whispers– voice all scratchy and low that makes you melt, you hum for a response, “I’m sorry honey, wake up please”, his tone is slightly rushed, you’re a bit more awake at that.

Barely did you sit up when he engulfs you in a tight hug. You hold him back without a thought or hesitation. Your hand rubs his back, his arms tighten around you, nose nudging into your neck, his skin warm. your fingers find their place in his messy head of hair like they always do, you card through the strands. He pulls you closer, and then you're in his lap. He holds you like a boy holds his favourite toy– like he doesn't plan on letting go.

“Want some water?” After some time you ask softly. You feel him nod into the junction of your neck.

He loosens his hold on you enough for you to climb out of his lap. Not saying a word, he follows you to the kitchen, and he stays close when you pour him a glass. He is mid-gulp when you ask, “nightmare?”

He nods once, the rogue strands on his forehead bouncing with the movement, and downs the water before saying a soft ‘yeah’.You take the glass from his hands and place it in the sink, and lead him back to bed.

You brush aside his disheveled hair. You tuck yourself into his side, an arm around him, “wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, fringernails scratching his faint stubble.

In the dim of the room, you see his adam's apple bob. Apparently, he does want to talk about it, because he nods– the movement barely noticeable but there. You put your head back on his chest and you wait patiently, trying your best not to fall back to slumber.

It takes him a while before he starts, “You were…” his hand moves to hold yours, “you were sick–in the hospital, these wires and tubes attached to you. Y-You had been there for months. You were sick and you wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't even look at me. And– and…. Then the– the damn heart monitor–”

“Honey–”

His words are frantic and uneven, “I didnt– I didnt know what to do after. I didn’t–”

“Steve—” you hold his face to make him look at you, “I'm here.”

He licks his lips, then swallows, nodding. he pushes his face forward so your foreheads are touching. “I know", his nose is hot against yours, "it was still awful.”

You both lay that way for a while. Your thumb brushing against his red cheek, he sniffles a couple times. you hate seeing him this way, with his lashes clumped together, his beautiful eyes all red. The moisture glistening under his eyes doesn't let you fawn over his freckles like you'd normally wish to.

When his skin is a little less warm, and his heartbeat calmer beneath your fingertips, you kiss him. Your hand snakes up to hold his face. Fingers, softly rubbing over the spot behind his ear that makes him melt. You kiss him all slow and purposefully, so he knows that he has all the time in the world.

When you pull away, he murmurs, “Can we go back to sleep?” he pulls you closer, face burying into your neck, warm puffs of breath against your collarbones.

You land a quick kiss on his eyebrow before resting your chin above his head, “‘course”

...

You wake up to the alarm clock on Steve’s side of the bed. He turns off the thing before rolling around in your arms onto his back and then turning his head to face you. “Hi”, he smiles that way again and you do the same, sleepy as ever.

“Hi”, you say still half asleep– you ended up not getting a lot of sleep last night. Thankfully you had the day off today, so you plan on being unproductive and sleeping it away.

He stretches, a yawn escaping him, “Jesus, I so don't wanna go to work today”, your boyfriend laments.

You hum, “then don't go” you propose, eyes still closed, “We can both have a day off”

He turns his body so it faces you, leaning on his elbow. His hand moves to your waist before massaging the love handle there “hmm, tempting. I can't though”

“No fun”, you mumble groggily.

“Hey, don't fall asleep on me”, he brushes the hair that falls on your face with the back of his hand.

"But ‘m sleepy", you mumble into the pillow.

"Aw, don't worry, I will kiss it away, honey." He leans down, a smirk painted across his features. His soft lips land on your cheeks first, then one on your nose, they follow a trail that leads to your lips.

You hide your face in the pillow before your lips could meet though, “No, No kissing!” you giggle, holding up your palm to his face, effectively blocking his attacks, “no kissing before brushing your teeth!"

“You're no fun”, he rolls out of the twist of sheets. He stretches his arms, the muscles rippling beneath the skin– he's trying to entice you, seduce you. and if you weren't so damn sleepy, you would have climbed him up like a koala. He gets up to go to the bathroom. When he notices that you haven't moved, he pulls you by your ankle. You let out a surprised shriek that transforms into giggles when you feel his fingers creeping up your torso– tickling you. ”Here comes the tickle monster!”

A fit of giggles erupts from your throat, "What are you–", your question gets interrupted by your own laughs.

"The tickle monster will not relent unless you wake up!"

“No! Okay, okay, I'm awake! Steve! I am awake!”

The two of you share the cramped space of the bathroom. It is small, but its the best you could afford. So when you brush your teeth together, you try to relish it when your elbows bump. And when you're done, he kisses you as if he waited ages.

By now, you're a bit more awake so you decide to get his breakfast ready while he takes a shower. It's simple enough, waffles with banana and some coffee. When he comes back out, he kisses you again when he sees you at the stove, this time on the crown of your head.

When he is getting his keys to leave, he gives you another peck, “drive safe", you murmur against his lips..

“I will. You get some sleep, yeah?” you hum and nod in response. You both bid your goodbyes before he turns to leave.

You decide to eat the leftover waffles and clean up a little before returning to your bed. You make yourself a plate with the bananas neatly cut and placed beside the waffles. You drizzle maple syrup, and then start eating the sickly sweet breakfast, skipping the coffee. While you're pouring yourself a second helping of the maple syrup, the expiration date on the bottle catches your eye. expired more than a year ago. ew.

Your face scrunches in disgust before immediately throwing it in the trash. And you wonder how the hell either of you hadn't gotten food poisoning yet. then it hits you, from what you remember you bought that bottle only a couple months ago. Did you buy an already expired one?

You open the fridge, the condiments and bottles staring at you. One by one, you check each and every one; ketchup, expired. Hot sauce, expired. Whipped cream, chocolate sauce, milk– expired, expired, expired.

What the fuck?

You throw it all out and make a point to call Steve later to buy everything as he often calls to ask if you had to get something from the store. And that makes you wonder, when was the last time you actually told him he needed to get something?

You try not to think too much about it. Honestly, you don't know what to make of it, so you decide to go back to sleep.

…

You hear your name. Its faint. It echoes. Like a whisper in a church.

“y/n”, you know that voice. “I– I know you’re there, y/n”, the woman says, all shaky but sure. “y/n”, she repeats. Its that voice… again.

Who are you?

“Its me, y/n! Its me!” she exclaims as if that would make you remember.

I don't ... understand.

“Baby, just tell me where you are– I'll find you.”

I’m home.

“Home? No– no baby, you’re not. You haven't been home—” her voice gets cut off. It becomes too loud. You feel as if the veins in your temple are going to explode. Its too loud to even tell what it is you’re hearing. Its a static like a radio or a TV, or maybe its wind, maybe its cars, maybe its screams. You think you hear sirens– you wonder if they’re the police or an ambulance. You hear your own breathing, your own heartbeat. Its deafening. And beneath it all, you hear….. Ringing.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

Your eyes fling open and you see your ceiling, you smell the faded mixture of your perfume and Steve's cologne. You’re in your bed. You still hear the ringing. The phone.

You are up in a second. Rushing towards the origin of the sound. When you’re there, you dont wait a second, the plastic is already to your ear.

“Hell– hello?” it comes out all out of breath and broken.

“Honey, you’re– you okay?” its not the voice of that woman.

“...Steve?”

“Who else?”, he chuckles, “you okay?”

“Uh– yeah,”you clear your throat, “I was um– sleeping. I think I just had a dream..” your hand creeps up to the back of your neck, scratching there to try to alleviate a little bit of the ache.

“Oh, well okay sleepy. I just wanted to check if you need me to buy anything? Like, groceries or whatever on my way back.” you give him the entire list of everything you wanted him to get. You would've talked more if Steve hadn't been interrupted by a customer. Nevertheless, you said your 'I love you's and the call ended.

Your heart is still loud in your ears but the ache has dulled down for the most part.

that voice. that woman.

Its me.

I’ll find you.

You haven't been home.

"Home..", you say out loud to yourself. Home.

...

Hours have passed. you think you’re losing your mind because you have turned the apartment upside down. you're surrounded by boxes, most of them filled with normal things, your tattered rollerskates, shoes, old clothes. Most of it was normal, except one.

One unlabeled box you found in the corner of your closet. You haven't touched that box in ages, not since your fallout with your family, lying out of sight and out of mind. It didn't have a lot, all packed in a hurry. things you'd had in your room. picture frames, some books, clothes, papers.

You pick up a frame. The picture was from when you were a twelve-year-old. Wearing what were your favourite clothes back then, your hair in a manner that made you feel a little sorry. You're so different now, yet somehow its still you. There's your older sister, her braces glimmering under the flash of the old camera– her smile wide. Your dad, who doesn't ever know how to pose in pictures. Your mom, she holds you and your sister by your shoulders, a soft smile on her lips, her makeup done perfectly. Another picture from your high school. Another of you with your sister and cousins.

You pull out the books, the pages are slightly yellowed and they have an earthy smell to them that you love. Pages you don't remember reading, dog-eared and written in.

Then there's the papers– some doodles, some notes, a few maps, some scraps and then.... a file. the file that has your name written on it. And when you open it; medical papers. medical bills. They are a little more than a year old. This wasn't a small stay apparently. From what you can tell from the dates on the bills, it lasted months. You don't remember going to the hospital.

Okay, what the actual fuck?

You find yourself reading through all the details of the paper on the floor of your closet.

months. you had been there for months. Steve's dream.

The entire time, you read and re-read the papers. Why don't you remember any of this? Why does Steve not remember any of this? Maybe he does, he had that dream after all, right? Why are there no discharge papers?

Hours pass. It's maddening, how slow the time passes. Its absolutely maddening. What the fuck does it mean that you haven't been home? You are home. and who the fuck was that woman?

You look through the box again, its contents scattered around you by now. The photos. Your family. Your parents. You miss them. You haven't seen them in so long...

Some broken memories have come to you. You had left– run away. You don't remember why. Then you met Steve when you were stopping by in Hawkins for a few months. You fell in love so quickly. Then one day, you asked if he wanted to run away with you. He said yes and you both left Hawkins and came here.

You don't remember much after that.

Wait, where is hawkins? and why did you go there?

...

It is 7 p.m. and you are pretty sure you have lost your mind. Why isn't Steve home yet? You need Steve. He's the only one who could ever fix you. And now, you need him to fix you again. You need him to fix this, to make some sense of this.

You are sitting by the door, eyes fixated on the hands of the clock.

7:01, nothing. Your arms fidget.

7:02, nothing. Your leg bounces.

7:03, 7:04, 7:05, 7:06, 7:07; nothing, nothing, nothing.

Then, 7:08 p.m., rattle of keys and the sound of the door being closed. Steve. Steve is home. Steve.

You're up on your feet instantly, Steve comes in holding a bag of groceries in one hand and his keys in the other, “I was so worried about you!” you say all hysterical.

“Worried, why?" he says, almost chuckling, but his brows furrow before he looks down at his wristwatch, shaking his head,"I don't think I’m late.” He leans in to land a kiss on your lips, but before he could do so, you turn your head away, “whats– whats wrong?”

“Can I ask you something?” you wrap your arms around your torso to somehow collect your thoughts a little better.

"Sure", he assures before moving to put the grocery bag on the beige kitchen counter.

You follow behind him with hurried steps, "When did we buy groceries before this?"

He starts taking out the groceries, "um.. I don't–” he pauses, looking up as if trying to remember himself, “last month probably?" Confusion paints his face, "why?"

"All the stuff in our fridge had gone bad ages ago."

"What?"

“Have you talked to your friends recently? Where are they?” All your attempts to collect your thoughts are all for nought as questions come tumbling out of your lips and you don't even wait for Steve to give a response.

“Honey, why are you–”

“Okay, okay– what about that nightmare you had?”

“Nightmare?” he echoes, brows scrunching together as if he had no idea what you were talking about, “what nightmare?” he asks like he hadn't cried in your arms the previous night.

“Last night! You had a nightmare that I was in a hospital and– and then I was looking through our closet and I find these medical bills–

“Woah, honey. I didn’t have a nightmare. I think I'd remember something like that.. And– what bills?”

Your feet are moving before he even finishes his sentence, you grab the bundle of papers, you show him everything. And he just... stares at them. After some time, all that comes out of his mouth is a “what the fuck...” under his breath.

“I don't understand Steve, I don't remember, you don't remember. And there was this call yesterday–”

“Call? what– from who?”

“From– “ you pause, trying to remember, “ I– I dont…” from who? And then you feel everything you had recalled leaving you. Who called you? What was Steve's nightmare?

“I don't remember!" you exclaim, frustrated, "why do– I'm so– I'm scared Steve. I’m–”

“Hey, it's okay. you have me honey, you have me”, he holds you by your shoulders, to provide you some semblance of comfort, "we'll figure something out.”

“Steve….”, you mumble, tears starting to collect on your lash line, “something's not right Steve…”

“Its okay..”

“No, no– I dont– I keep forgetting stuff. Why don't I remember anything?”

“Hey, honey—”

“And whatever I do remember; none of it makes sense– nothing makes sense!"

“Its okay–”

“Do not tell me to breathe–”, “breathe for me–” you warn him the exact same time he says it.

You have lost it. You have lost your mind. Eyes wide, you ask, “Why do I already know what you’re going to say? How is that– “

“Hey, hey look at me”, he holds your face in his warm palms, “Breathe for me”, he instructs, “please honey.”

“Steve”, you pull his hands away from your face not because you don't want him to hold you. You do, you want him to hold you forever, but dammit, you feel like you’re going crazy, “where did we meet?”

“Honey–”

“Where did we meet?”

“Family video! We met in Family Video! You just came in one day and asked if I could help you pick out a movie to lift your mood up”

“Where is family video? Like, what town? Wh– what state?”

“..Hawkins, Indiana”

“Steve.. There's no town named Hawkins in Indiana”

“Of course ther–”

“No– no. You can look in a map steve. There was a map in one of those boxes. No town named Hawkins. And then– those papers...” you gesture towards the papers in his hand. You stand there, impatiently so, as he scans over the papers once again. For a split second, you think you see a tinge of recognition in his eyes.

“What does it mean, Steve? Then your dream last night–”, he hands you the papers before turning towards the door.

“Steve, hey, steve!” He heads towards the apartment door. “Steve, come back here!” he doesn't stop, doesn't even spare a glance, his movement robotic. Your voice gets louder, more authoritative, angry “Steve! Come back here right the hell now.”

He doesn't stop, not for his keys, not to tie his shoes. Not for you. Tears cloud your vision and your words come out all desperate and weak, “Steve please! Please don't leave me..”

The door slams shut. Its loud, the silence after it.

“No..” you whimper to yourself. Tears, finally streaming down your face.

He'll come back, you know he'll come back, sooner or later. He’ll come back to you. Steve wouldn't leave you. He couldn't.

You wait by the door. hours pass. You fall asleep waiting for him.

…

You wake up to the smell of something sweet in the air. When you open your eyes, you’re on the couch. But you don't have time to think about whether your neck will hurt for the rest of the day because Steve is there, standing over the stove– his back facing you.

“Steve?” your voice comes out croaky.

“Y’wake baby?” he turns to take a glance at you. The furrow between his brows you saw the previous night gone. He smiles softly when you nod dumbly at the rhetorical question, “Well brush your teeth I’m making pancakes”

“Steve..”

He notices that you don’t move, your gaze fixed on him. “Hey, what's wrong?” he leaves the batter he was working on on the counter before walking towards you, “You okay?”

“I’m sorry”

He kneels down infront of you, holding your hands in his– he smells like vanilla from up this close, “Sorry, for what?”

“Yesterday… I didn't mean to upset you. I just– I was–”

“What would I be upset for?”

“Last night.. I–”

“baby, I’m not upset”

“But you just left and..” you sniffle, “when did you come back?”

“I didn't leave. I was here the entire time”, he shook his head, confused.

“But– I… “

“I think you had a dream honey. Freshen up, kay? I’ll bring breakfast. I think we should rot in bed the entire day today. Get some sleep. How’s that sound, honey?”

You nod, he smiles as he pulls you in for a quick kiss, “Good thing we both have the day off– thank jesus for sundays”

…

7:08 p.m. that is what Steve's wristwatch reads and he is standing at your apartment door. Steve isn't sure why he is back. He isn't sure why he left. Maybe he needed some time. And spending nearly an entire day alone... he remembers things. things he wishes he could forget again.

Although Steve is unsure about a lot of things. one thing is for certain. He loves you. He loves you like he was made for it... and he was.

He was made for loving you and not loving you is not living. He's been there before, not having you to love, he remembers the torture of it. You still don't recall it yet and he doesn't want you to, but he does. He remembers it all. All the hurt, the loneliness, the grief, the silence.

The grief that was too much to bear. Silence was unbearable when it wasn't mixed with your heartbeat.

When he turns the door handle– the door isn't locked. He steps in slowly.

He can hear the TV playing, you're on the couch. there's someone else with you. Its him.

Steve watches as he sits between your thighs on the couch– his place, your fingers playing with his hair. He readjusts his head as if can’t quite find a comfortable spot, “You okay?” you ask as gently as you always do.

“Uh, yeah its just–” he sounds just like him, “I just have this nick in my neck”, he says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Here, let me…” you mumble sweetly as your expert fingers move to where he said it ached.

He sees you dig that spot a little with your thumb, “Ah, thanks honey” he almost melts, and it makes him groan the way that always drew a groan out of Steve.

Steve doesn't mind you made him, you probably didn't even know you did, you're powerful like that. But Steve feels something bubble inside him– maybe this is what jealousy feels like. Steve watches, watches as you touch him. He digs his nails into his palm, he feels the urge to touch where you are touching him. He wonders what he would feel when his thumb would run over that area.

His fingers rise on their own accord. Skin barely touching skin, almost hovering. And then he feels… a bump. He isn't sure how to describe it but he knows that that isn't supposed to be there. Not normally, anyway.

He watches as your expert fingers move up into his hair, he always loved when you did that to him.

His own fingers move higher into his hair. He feels another– another protrusion, another bump.

Steve knows what those are, he knows not to press down on them. You have them too. You have them where he holds you when he kisses you. Its the reason you don't remember, its the reason he didn't remember. Just for a day, he didn't have you to hold him like the way you always do and now he remembers.

Steve watches as he leans down to kiss you. And all Steve sees is red. He doesn’t have control over him as he stomps over to where the two of you were. Your heads snap towards the sound. Confusion flashes through both your features.

“y/n”, Steve says. He watches as your eyes flick between himself and the other. Your eyes land on his. Of course you know he is the real Steve. You made him.

He holds a protective hand infront of you, “y/n”, he sounds like him, “y/n, get inside”, he nods towards your bedroom door.

“Look, man I dont know who the fuck you are. But you need to leave”, Steve hates him, he sounds nothing like him. objectively that might not be true, but he isn't him.

“You don't know who I am? Fucking look at me"

“y/n get inside”, Steve doesn't like how he says your name, how he shouts it. It sounds nothing like him.

Steve lets you go, he doesn’t want you to see this.

You can't look away despite not being able to see much through the sliver of the slightly ajar bedroom door. It is only when he lands a punch on Steve, that you move away from the door– eyes closing on themselves.

You hear shouts. Then thuds, knuckles hitting jaws. Some more thuds and then a loud crack. Then nothing. Its becomes too quiet.

You quietly step even further away from the door when you hear footsteps approaching, until you feel your back hit the wall.

The hinges of the slightly ajar door creak. and he is there. Your Steve.

He has a split lip, bruises blooming on his cheekbones. Blood splattered on his jeans, on his hands, his arms. He lifts his arm to wipe his bleeding lip, more so smearing the blood in the process. Your eyes water, heartbeat too damn loud in your ears, eyes wide as a doe.

“It's Steve. your Steve”, he reassures you, holding your face by your chin. From up this close, the blood on him doesn't look quite like blood. Its too dark, too shiny, more viscous than it should be and it doesn't seem to clot. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“But you already know that. dont you, honey?” Steve coos oh so gently as he thumbs over your cheeks to rid you of the tear stains. He feels sorry when the action instead makes the blood on his hands smear across your skin. He regrets it immediately, to have tainted you with it. He is sorry you have to see all this, to see him like this.

Steve knows he'll give it all up for you. If he ever had something to give, he would give it all up, just like you did.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

“It's for you, honey.”

He moves aside so you can go to the phone. It rings loud as it did earlier. You move past the kitchen, you don't see him– not entirely. He is on the floor, you see his hand around the corner of the kitchen counter, lifeless, a pool of that blood surrounding him. The corner of the kitchen counter drips with the liquid, forming a stark contrast against the light beige.

You move past the kitchen counter, eyes not daring to look at him or Steve, you don't turn around to see if Steve is there watching. You know he is.

You move to the bright red phone that is still ringing, blaring. You pick it and hold it up to your ear, “hello?”

“y– y/n? y/n its– it's me”, that woman says. And somehow, now, you know who she is. “it's me, do you–”

“Mom?” you say it before you even realise you did.

“Oh my goodness! Yes baby, it's– it's me!”

“I’m sorry mom, I had to.”

“y/n, what–”

“I have to go now.”

“y/n, no– no. Please don't hang up–” click.

“There you go honey", you feel Steve's warm hands on your shoulder, he rubs into the tense muscles there– surely staining your shirt with the liquid, "there you go."

You turn around and you see his eyes-- beautiful coffee coloured things, moles littered across his skin just the way you've memorized to heart. That smile, adorning and warm as ever. He holds you like he always does, thumb on your cheek, palm holding your face.

He holds you like he was made for it. Your cheek fit perfectly in his palm as if you were made for him. You were made for each other.

You lean in closer and then your lips meet. It isn't hard and fast. Its slow and deep. Like you have all the time in the world, and you do.

When you pull apart and look at him, its just him. Your Steve.

You don't even remember what it was you had been worried about. All you see is Steve, all you feel is Steve. Your lover, your home, your family, your everything. It's all Steve.

You smile up at Steve and everything is right. The blood he had smeared on you was gone. The counter was clean. He was gone. Everything is right, once again.

"So", he starts, walking towards the stove, "what are we feelin' today? pancakes with blueberries, strawberries, or plain ol' choco-chip?"

"Is there an ‘all of the above’ option?"

"For you? always."

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stranger things #dark!steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x gn!reader

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redroomreflections · 2 months ago

Text

Just A Check In

Natasha Romanoff xfem!reader

The Loud House universe - available on a03

Summary: R and Nat talk about divorce and what their lives look like now

note: Idk what this is fr I just wanted to write it

This is about 3 years in the future from the actual timeline.

The kitchen is quiet, a gentle hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clink of dishes in the sink are the only sounds breaking the peace. You and Natasha are in one of those rare moments of solitude, settled into your domestic routine.

You sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling over the edge, a pile of mail spread out before you. You sift through it with a relaxed focus, your eyes skimming the envelopes and papers, while Natasha, leaning against the counter with a mug of tea in hand, vents her frustrations.

“Charlie was just—” Natasha begins, her voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “She gave me such attitude this week. I thought that was something we’d have to deal with when she’s a teenager, not now.”

You nod and hum your agreement, sorting the pile of letters into bills, junk, and others. The first pile is already quite large and will be a pain in the ass to sort through. You mentally remind yourself to look over the online bill payment settings again, as you have for the past month or so, to see if there are any new updates or if anything is still glitch.

As Natasha continues to recount Charlie’s most recent bout of rebellion, you can't help but grin, knowing exactly how your wife feels.

"She is a preteen. 11 years old is a pretty big deal," You offer her. You look up, catching Natasha’s gaze with a knowing smile. “You mean you don't like the whole ‘don’t tell me what to do’ thing?”

"I definitely don't," Natasha groaned. "It's almost like everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. And the whole smart mouth thing..."

"Well, when she was younger you told me not to scold her on it," You shrugged. "Remember when there was a time I was the one that was too strict."

"Yeah, yeah, but this is different. She's starting to get mouthy with me, and it's not cute anymore."

"I know, babe."

Natasha huffed and leaned forward, placing her mug down next to you. "I want to ground her for life."

You barked out a laugh, reaching a hand forward to squeeze Natasha's shoulder. "Babe, no."

"She's lucky she's cute," Natasha muttered, turning back to grab her tea. "Even though it's wearing off."

You smiled and shook your head, turning back to the mail.

"Speaking of teenagers, what happened with Cara? She's been out a bit late these days." Natasha asked.

"She's eighteen," You remind her. "She has her own curfew. We don't have to worry about her as much. Taking a year off to figure out what she wants to do with school hasn't been easy on her."

"Yeah, you're right," Natasha sighed.

She was quiet for a moment, and you heard the gentle scrape of the wooden spoon against the ceramic mug as she stirred her tea.

"So... I guess what I'm saying is I don't like having to parent my daughter," Natasha finally spoke up. "And I'm tired of Charlie and her attitude. It's getting exhausting."

"Oh, really?" You replied, looking up. You caught her gaze and grinned, tilting your head to the side. "What about your wife? You can't handle her either?"

Natasha chuckled. "Oh, I can definitely handle my wife."

"Yeah, well, that's good, " You looked into her eyes. "Charlie will get better. Give her time and talk to her more. Let her know you're there."

"Why doesn't she hate you?"

"I'm the cool mom," You shrugged. "It's practically a crime. Plus, Cara took me through the ringer so I guess it's high time you receive that."

Natasha pouted. "Not fair."

"It is," You chuckled. "But seriously, it'll all get better. Kids go through changes. We can't expect her to stay the same sweet little girl forever. But the good news is, when we get to the worst of it, we can always give her to my mom."

Natasha let out a chuckle and nodded. "Alright, I'll hold you to that."

You smiled and turned back to the mail. After a moment, Natasha began to stir her tea once more. You check your phone, deciding to check your messages when you find one from Denise. One of your mutual friends from college is divorcing her husband.

"Oooh, Denise says Jude and Nadine are getting divorced," You say, looking up.

Natasha raises a brow. "Oh? Why?"

"Apparently he was sleeping with her friend," You replied, reading the message. "Oh, wait, I forgot to tell you."

"About?"

"The friend's pregnant."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll show you the messages," You said, putting the phone down. "That's insane to me. They've been married just as long as you and I have."

Natasha scoffed. "People can have a long marriage and still cheat."

"True," You agreed. "But they were really happy. I thought they were going to last forever."

"Well, not everybody gets lucky," Natasha said.

"That scares me a little," You admit. "I know we're solid but..."

"But?"

"Well, a lot of my friends are starting to split, and... it's weird," You said. "I mean, you remember our first few years. We didn't have the best luck either. Now, we're deeper into it. It's so much easier to get into a routine. We are just as busy if not busier than when we moved into the house. The kids take up most of our time. We don't even have sex like we used to. We're almost on a schedule these days and..."

"And?"

"We can't be that couple," You sighed.

Natasha smiled and leaned in, her lips ghosting over yours. "We are not like that."

You raised a brow. "Are you sure? Because the last time we were really spontaneous was... actually I can't think of a time."

"It's not a big deal, right? As long as we make time for us." Natasha paused. "You're really afraid? Did that message prompt this or was this something you've been thinking of a long time?"

You bit your lip, shrugging. "I'm not sure. I guess it's been building up."

Natasha leaned forward, her fingers brushing the strands of hair out of your face. She pressed her lips against yours, her hand falling to your neck. You closed your eyes, your hands finding her waist.

Natasha's kisses grew in intensity, her tongue sliding into your mouth. Your breath caught in your throat, and you found yourself moaning against her lips.

"Fuck, Nat," You groaned.

Natasha chuckled, pulling back. She placed a few chaste kisses against your lips, then pulled back completely, a satisfied grin on her face.

"Better?" She asked.

"Hmm," You nodded, smiling. "Yes, but I don't know if that eases my worries."

"We are fine," Natasha promised. "I'm glad you're telling me this right now. If it's something you're worried about we can work on it. My parents don't plan on moving out anytime soon. Trust me I've asked. Maybe we can utilize them a bit more." She rested her hand on your bare thigh. "We're just as solid as when we first started. Even more so. We are not the same people we were fifteen years ago. I promise, baby. We are not like them."

You smile, the warmth of her words and touch seeping into your body. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, you're not. It's okay," Natasha chuckled. "I'm not angry or upset. I want us to have these talks and check in with each other. As for the sex, when we do have sex, I'm just as satisfied now than back then."

"I can't believe you just used that term," You laughed. "Back then."

"It's true," Natasha argued. "Do you feel the same?"

You nod, a grin forming on your face. "I think my libido has grown as I've gotten older. As if that's even possible."

"What I'm hearing is I'm not taking care of you," Natasha moved to stand between your legs. She placed her hand on your knee, rubbing gentle circles against the skin.

"That's not what I meant," You insisted.

"Sure it's not," Natasha grinned. "Maybe I need to remind you just how good I can make you feel."

"Yeah?" You smirked, your arms wrapping around her neck. "Prove it."

"With pleasure."

Natasha pressed her lips against yours once more, her hands sliding up and down your thighs. She squeezed and massaged the skin, her lips molding with yours.

Your hands slid down her back, resting at the hem of her shirt. You pulled her closer, your tongues meeting in a passionate embrace.

Natasha pulled back, a low groan rumbling from her chest. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Luke."

"What?"

Natasha stepped back, holding a finger to her lips so you could be quiet. Sure enough, you heard the heavy footsteps of your four-and-a-half-year-old along with the scraping of dog nails. Luke walked into the kitchen sleepily, his hands holding gently to Midnight's fur, as he looked between the two of you.

"Can I have a drink?" He asked.

"Of course, sweetie," You answered.

"Do you want some juice?" Natasha asked.

Luke nodded, his eyes drifting shut. "Apple please."

"Okay, sit down, and I'll get you a glass," Natasha said, moving to grab the juice out of the fridge.

Luke stumbled to the table, and Midnight followed, plopping down beside him.

"We will finish this I promise," Natasha leaned over to quickly peck your lips.

You grinned, nodding. "I'll hold you to it."

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #i miss them

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ellecdc · 7 months ago

Note

hi my lovely, i was wondering if i might please be able to make a request! absolutely fine if it doesn’t inspire you or you don’t get around to it for a while or you don’t like it it’s no pressure!!

i was just wondering if i might be able to request big brother sirius or best friend barty (my loves) and a reader who is so stressed with classes and workload- ive been having a hard time lately and i feel so out of my depth and its seems that no one else is struggling like me and my adhd really isn’t helping me cause i try and get my work done and i just end up sitting there for hours and then breaking down cause i can’t do it and i just feel so useless

so sorry for going on a tangent i just don’t really have anyone to talk to! again its totally okay if you don’t want to write this just speaking about its made me feel better! i hope you’re doing well my lovely, you bring me so much comfort! and i hope birdy is behaving herself

🪩

cheering you on babes! sorry for the wait in this request, and thanks for your patience in me <3 hope your workload isn't causing you too much grief, and both Big Brother Siri and BFF Barty have asked me to tell you to make sure to take breaks and be nice to yourself!!

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

BFF!Barty Crouch Junior x stressed!reader [GN] who Barty forces to take a break

You were on your umpteenth read through of your notes for your upcoming Herbology exam when your books were rudely ripped out from underneath you.

“Hey!” You shouted at the unknown assailant when you raised your head to see Barty carefully piling your notes together and shoving them into his own book bag. “Barty, give them back.”

“No can do, Treasure. Let’s go.”

You watched, dumbfounded, as Barty began to walk away from your table in the library before he turned around when he realised you weren’t following him.

“Hello!? Earth to Treasure?” He sing-songed on his way back before he waved a hand in front of your face, which you quickly swatted away.

“Barty, this isn’t funny.”

“I agree.” He answered quickly; his tone garnering a severe quality that made your skin crawl. “You’ve been shacked up in this library for Salazar knows how long, I don’t know when your last real meal was that didn’t consist of tea and Honeydukes sweets, and when was the last time you got fresh air? You know? That stuff that's produced by trees and life and not tainted with the musty smell of old books?”

“Barty, I need to prepare for this exam.” You pressed.

“Which you have, and if you humour me right now, I’ll even help you study more later. Now, let’s go.” He demanded as he took your elbow and hauled you up from the table and dragged you by the wrist unceremoniously behind him.

After numerous failed attempts at getting Barty to tell you what he was doing, where he was taking you, what he was up to, why he was dragging you across the castle, you spent your trek across the castle grounds in a begrudging silence with only the occasional muttered protest escaping your lips.

Finally, Barty released your wrist as you stopped in front of an expanse of wall encasing the southern grounds near the quidditch pitch that didn’t seem to get much traffic at all.

You watched as your friend dug his arms into the bag much further than should have been humanly possible alerting you to the fact that he had, indeed, cast an illegal undetectable extension charm.

He was going to make you fail your exam and an accomplice to a crime.

He pulled out a large stack of ceramic plates he no doubt pilfered from the kitchens and placed them beside you before reaching back in and retrieving another stack.

“Barty. What are you doing?”

“Blowing off steam, as the muggles say.” He explained simply as he moved to stand beside you and placed a matching stack of plates on his other side.

“By scrubbing dishes outside like a down-and-out House Elf?” You asked bemusedly as you picked up one of the plates and twisted it around in your hands. They didn’t look dirty.

“Ye have so little faith, dear Treasure.” Barty said theatrically before he launched a plate at the ancient stone wall and watched it shatter before the pieces rained down into the grass below it.

“Barty!”

“Too much talking, not enough throwing Treasure.” He called over to you as he hurled a second plate at the wall.

“Can you at least tell me why we’re defacing school property?!”

With a long suffering sigh, Barty allowed the plate he’d been in the process of picking up clatter back onto its stack unceremoniously.

Barty moved to stand in front of you, crouching down ever so slightly so as to force you to make direct eye contact with him and placing a hand on each of your shoulders should you consider bolting.

“Alright Treasure, listen. Are you listening? I love you, you’re my best friend, my soulmate, my ride or die, I would live, die, and kill for you; you fucking suck when you’re stressed out. Okay? You’ve been living in that library for a week, you’re barely eating or getting any vitamin D which is already difficult enough in sodding Scotland without you actively avoiding the sun’s rays, and…I miss you.”

You looked between both of his green eyes which oozed nothing but earnestness and concern before letting your shoulders drop.

“Fine, but why are we smashing plates?”

Seemingly trusting you not to take off, Barty returned to his full height with far more pep in his step than he had before he read you like one of your Herbology textbooks.

“Great question! I was trying to decide between this and shoving Gryffindor’s into the Black Lake; I figured you appreciate this better.” He said as he shot you a wink. “Now get throwing, Treasure!”

Deciding that it was folly to try to argue or reason with your…capricious friend, you picked up a plate and lobbed it dutifully at the wall.

What started off as you merely humouring your friend in his antics quickly left you breathless, smiling, and squealing in delight with each smash of a plate. You and Barty spent much of the afternoon cackling and dancing under a shower of broken porcelain before you reparo’d the plates and did it all over again.

You hardly realised the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees when you turned to look at Barty; his face flushed red and a wide grin spread across his face which you were sure was mirrored on your own.

“Thank you, Barty.”

His smile turned softer as he looked at the plate in his hands somewhat abashedly. “No need to thank me, Treasure. You know I’ll always look out for you, ‘specially when you forget to do it yourself.”

“Easy there, Junior; I'll start to think you’re going soft on us.” You teased as you nudged him in the arm with one of your plates.

He scoffed and shoved you away from him. “I will not tolerate this slander.”

“Is it slander if it’s true?”

“Defamation.”

“There’s no one here to hear me.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The sound of James Potter’s voice rung through the air as he walked towards you from the Quidditch pitch. “It’s good to see you outside of the library! I was getting wor-”

You never got to hear what James had been worried about as Barty quickly began lobbing plates in his direction.

“Barty!” You shouted as James began dodging the assault.

“Sorry, he spooked me.” Barty deadpanned, not sounding sorry at all as he continued throwing plates at the Gryffindor chaser.

“I’ll catch up with you later!” James shouted as he started jogging towards the castle in the opposite direction of his attacker.

“You know, for a quidditch player, you have terrible aim.” You grumbled at your friend as you shot him an unimpressed glare.

He returned your glare in response to your insult. “I’ll have you know, if I wanted to actually hit him, I would have.”

“Soft.”

“Alright, that’s it. Pull out your wand, Treasure.” He barked as he dropped his plates, brandished his wand and took a duelling stance.

“I am not fighting you, Junior.”

“Those were fighting words.”

And before you could retort, he had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder before he began marching towards the castle.

“What are you doing?!” You squealed as you playfully swung your fist against his back.

“Throwing you in the Black Lake.”

“Barty!”

You didn’t return to the castle until the sun had fully set; feeling tired in a good way and far happier and more relaxed than you had felt in days.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr fluff #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr ficlet #barty crouch jr imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #ellecdc fics

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wuxian-vs-wangji · 1 month ago

Text

Love Storm Excerpt: PayuRain's First Time Together

** Rain is sometimes referred to by his Thai name, 'Warren'.

(Ch 12: Officially Consorted)

While it’s showering heavily outside, inside the bathroom is no different. The sound of water splashes on the ceramic floor echoes in the room, and the warmth fogs up the surfaces of mirror and glass panes. However, it’s not the heat from the water that turns Rain’s pale skin red, but his skin changes color because there’s someone holding him from behind.

“Payu, please let me take a shower myself.”

“Oh, so now you can say ‘please’?”

“Eh? Get your hands off!”

Warren struggles, extremely embarrassed when the tall man whispers in his ear while repeatedly attacking his soft spot. Moreover, Payu keeps rubbing his skin all over Rain’s body, not even caring to ask if he needs any help showering.

What a tyrant!

Rain looks back on the moment when he was dragged into the house. He was confused at first, and then he got alarmed when the tall man dragged him into a bedroom. Without telling him anything, Payu pulled Rain’s shirt off and threw it some random direction, then the tall man moved on to pulling off the boy’s pants and threw them on the floor in another direction. Finally, Rain’s body was left with the last piece of clothing on him, which he desperately fought to keep.

And what did Payu do to stop the man’s prolonged struggle?

He hung me over his shoulder. He didn’t slap my butt this time, but he pulled my goddamn undies off!

And, finally, they’re here. Taking a shower together.

“How will I help you bathe if I keep my hands off?”

“I can do it myself! Now just leave me alone already.” Rain can’t figure out how sharing his good news ended up in getting himself forced into the shower bare naked like this.

“I’m all soaked with rain. If I don’t take a shower soon, I might get sick,” Payu says with a poker face.

“All right, then. After you. I can wait.” Rain, needing something to cover his body right away, says in a shaky voice. He gets ready to sprint out of the shower, but Payu acts faster. The tall man grabs hold of his arm and pours more water on his head. Rain quickly shuts his eyes.

“No, it’s you who can’t wait any longer. Who told you to stay in the pouring rain like that? I don’t care for how long that has been, but you’re all soaked. You need to wash,” Payu replies. Rain doesn’t get why the taller one is coming to worry about him just now. He should have known that bad weather can’t do any harm to a tough and sturdy architecture student like himself.

“I just wanted to tell you as soon as possible.”

“And I just want to do you right here.”

“What?” Rain begs a pardon. He is about to open his eyes to make eye-contact, but Payu is also rubbing shampoo on his head.

“*cough* Payu, I got water in my mouth!”

“Hold still then,” Payu scorns.

Rain wants to reply that it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if Payu just let him bathe on his own. But Rain knows better; he has learned so well that it’s useless to struggle against this tall man. At worst, he might as well reveal his little dragon by accident. So even though he feels like he’s dying of heatstroke or his heart is beating out of his chest, it’s better to keep his hands on his crotch and let Payu do what he wants.

Rain has never gotten himself exposed in his birthday suit like this before in his life, even when he went to ROTC camps. But tonight…

He sneaks a glance of a blurry reflection in the fogged up mirror.

Rain is always aware of how gorgeous Payu is, but this is the first time he sees the man naked.

The younger one can’t figure out how the taller one managed to go to the gym, but that chest with those muscles, and a six-pack abdomen, and that lean waist leading to… well, you know. Rain nearly has a heart attack just looking at Payu’s upper body; he’s sure he’ll be dead if he looks further down below Payu’s waistline.

Damn, he has such a body!

All of those thoughts combined to that well-proportioned face and his hair let loose… Such a heartthrob!

Don’t flick your hair and smirk. You could kill me with that.

“Hmmm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

If the younger one didn’t have to use his hands to cover his little snake down there, he would have used them to cover his face instead due to shame. Rain can’t help comparing himself with the other man in the room. While he’s looking somewhat mediocre, short, and skinny, Payu is graciously handsome, tall, and in shape. Rain feels ashamed to go all naked like the one bathing him now.

Other than that? Spasms all over his body.

“Keep your head down and eyes closed,” the tall one says. Rain doesn’t disobey. He will do anything if it helps get him out of here sooner.

When he does what Payu tells him to, he feels a stream of warm water in the middle of his head followed by a gentle rub by a big hand. Rain thinks of that robust mechanic he usually sees at the garage and wonders how one can drastically change his personality. Then, Rain stiffens up; every time Payu makes a move, their bodies make contact. Like now, Payu’s elbows are touching his shoulders, but his back also feels warmer. Rain is curious what it is he’s attached to.

He doesn’t know, and yet doesn’t dare turn around to check.

*Whoosh*

“*gasp* W-what are you doing?!”

“Just hold still. How can I give you a bath if I can’t touch you at all?” Payu replies.

Rain opens his mouth, wanting to argue, but then he changes his mind when Payu starts rubbing soap on his skin.

Who starts rubbing soap on the chest first?! Anyone?!

Rain grits his teeth, trying not to scream. His face reddens when his chest is being rubbed, and now it’s a sea of soap foam. His abdomen stiffens every time Payu rubs past his nipples. Rain begins breathing heavily, his body warms up, and his snake is about to wake from its slumber.

“E-enough! Stop it, please, Payu. Let me take a shower by myself.” Rain desperately grabs hold of the other man’s hand.

“Why?”

Gah! Don’t get too close to my ear!

Rain turns his face away as he mentally complains. Payu was too close to his ear when he whispered, and Payu’s nasal tip was stroking past his ear base and making him blush. And Payu’s chest that is pressed against Rain’s back…

“Payu, I’m serious. This is not funny. Stop goofing around.”

Rain feels like his brain has stopped working. His heart is still racing and his body heats up. He can barely talk without stuttering.

“I’m not goofing around.” Payu nibbles on the younger one’s ear as if to tease. “Rain.”

Oh shit, I can’t hold it anymore!

The younger one suddenly covers his ears with both hands and shakes his head vigorously when Payu calls his name softly. Rain shivers, feeling unsure if it’s just his imagination, or does it sound rough and raunchy, as if the tall man is pleading with him?

A man like Payu is pleading with me?

“Step back,” Rain says, turning around and looking at the tall man. He wants to get out of the bathing session, but his blushing cheeks, tearful eyes, and trembling lips are working like magnets that attract and draw in the lips of the tall man who’s been desperately tolerant for quite a while. Payu kisses Rain on his rosy lips with extreme lust.

A passionate kiss that comes unexpectedly, and makes Rain go wide-eyed.

“P-umph!”

A big hand grasps him by the chin and forces his face to align to Payu’s. Rain opens his mouth to say something, but that turns out to give the tall man a chance to suck on his lower lip. Spasms spring all over Rain’s skinny body as he feels a hot tongue invade his space behind the lips he tries to hold shut.

The kissing gets more and more passionate, and Rain is stupefied.

The hands that were pushing the tall man away change their action to hold on the tall man’s shoulders. The tongue that was protesting is now obeying, though with half willingness. The mouth that was trying to move away is now accepting the fiery kiss.

*Smooch* *smooch*

By now, the only noise Rain hears is the sound of their kissing that echoes in this bathroom. It’s zealous, driving him mad and destroying his tolerance. But Payu won’t suffocate the young one; he knows the process. He keeps kissing for a moment, lets the boy breathe, and then he goes back to kissing again and again until Rain shivers and presses his body against Payu’s chest.

My body is weakening, but my pen is awakening.

“E-enough,” Rain says, and pushes Payu with all the strength he has left, and the tall man eventually retreats.

“It’s all your fault. It’s you!”

“What’s wrong?” asks Payu while Rain sinks his face into his palms as soon as his face is free. Payu gets nervous, then stunned when his eyes follow where Rain is looking.

Down below, he sees the awakening little dragon.

It’s your fault!” Rain yells over his embarrassment, but it’s too late for him to cover that part. His dragon is finally awake.

The sight makes Payu freeze for a minute…

Swoosh!

“Payu! Let go of me! No! You’ll drop me! Payu!!”

But Payu won’t listen to the little man’s shout of despair. He turns off the shower and scoops up the younger one, lifting him in both arms and walking straight into the bedroom. He lays the boy on the soft mattress and crawls over his body almost simultaneously. Rain looks away and curls up as he’s feeling extremely ashamed, putting his hands over his eyes but leaving a gap between his index finger and middle finger so he can sneak a peek.

And it’s a peek that makes Rian find it hard to swallow around the lump in his throat.

Rain has never seen his expression on Payu’s face before.

He looks madly wild, his eyes ablaze, his jaw clenched so hard that Rain can see the lines of its frame. His hair that was usually tied up at the back of his head is now down, framing his face, but that doesn’t add any sweetness to his look at all. Instead, it makes him look even hotter, more manly, and more aggressive. Like a predator ready to hunt down and crush his prey.

“P-Payu,” Rain calls his name under a shaky breath.

*whoosh*

“!!!”

Payu puts one of Rain’s hands on his heating up part which is craving for the same thing.

“I know you want it. So do I,” he speaks in a rough voice.

Warren’s eyes widen. He tries to retract his hand, but the tall man won’t let him.

“I-I didn’t come to you for this. I-I just… I just wanna let you know about the professor giving me compliments. I just wanted you to be the first to know-” Rain tries to explain, but then chills go down his spine when he meets Payu’s hawkish gaze.

“Because you’re so goddamn adorable like this, I want to devour you.”

Rain eventually pulls his hands off his face.

Is he going wild because of… me?

“Don’t stop me.”

Rain flinches as his cheek is stroked by Payu’s nasal tip.

“I won’t hold back anymore, dummy.” Payu kisses Rain hard on his pale cheek and traces back to his lips.

“P-umph,” Rain is cut off by the kiss that seems to be continued from the bathroom. It’s hard, passionate, and extremely sensual, especially to the one who is a newbie to this loving activity. Rain’s guard is gradually going down. He himself isn’t aware that he has stopped pushing at Payu’s chest and even wrapped his arms around the tall man’s neck, letting their bodies press against one another.

Rain isn’t sure of himself by now; he doesn’t protest, and he doesn’t want their kissing to end.

The two weeks of absence makes him realize that he’s been missing Payu like crazy, and the touch they’re having now is speaking for him. And for now, he doesn’t want to think of anything else.

“Ahh.”

Rain moans softly, looking at the ceiling as Payu is busy exploring his neck. Then he flinches when he feels a warm tongue sweeping over his chin and continuing its way down past his Adam’s apple and onto his collar bone. Both hands of the tall man keep touching and pressing all over his wet body. Seemingly the room owner doesn’t care if the bed is wet as well. Payu keeps blowing kisses on Rain’s shoulders and sometimes bites his delicate skin as if to tease.

The foreplay turns Rain’s pale skin pink. Sweat starts dampening his skin, his breath becomes warmer, and his legs are moving in random directions.

“Umph. N-no. Don’t.”

Payu places his mouth over Rain’s pink raisin and makes a straight sweep with his tongue over it. Rain shivers into the spasm and ruffles Payu’s hair by instinct to deal with it. Tears build up in the younger one’s eyes when the waves of desire are hitting his shore and bedazzling him.

The tall man keeps blowing kisses from Rain’s upper body to abdomen, and the part lower than the beltline. Both of his hands are busy massaging Rain’s chest and Rain shakes his head as his feelings burst. He moans irresistibly, and then flinches hard. His eyes widen and his body is pinned in place when Payu licks on his cocked-up pistol.

“No, Payu… Don’t- Mmmmm- no. Don’t. I can’t handle it.”

But Payu won’t stop; he’s craving for more of Rain’s moans. So he keeps on licking that tendon until it gets all damp, and the young man under him squirms and clutches the sheets with both hands.

And it’s at that moment that Payu widens the boy’s legs.

“Payu?!”

“Ssh. It’s okay,” Payu shushes the boy. Seeing Rain alarmed and flushed, Payu is urged to tease the younger one and make him even weaker. However, he knows that this is the first time for Rain. Not only does that mean this is Rian’s first time to have sex with a man, but it also feels certain to Payu that Rain has never kissed before as well.

Payu crawls up, holding the younger one in his arms as he removes all gaps between their bodies, then slowly thrusts his hips.

“Good?”

“Mmmm. Umph,” Rain answers under a heavy breath. He’s shivering when their heated parts are rubbing against each other. Then, he notices Payu reaching for something in a nightstand drawer.

*Whoosh*

“N-no… Payu! Please, no!” startled, Rain struggles back, but he can’t because he’s locked in tight by Payu’s arm. The tall man holds him firmly at the hips and keeps their midbody tendons attached. At the same time, he grabs Rain’s buttcheek tightly with the other hand, sliding his finger over Rain’s hind straight, then calmly sending it into the cave.

“Umph!” Rain wails and shakes his head.

“It’s okay. Hold on to me.”

Rain follows Payu’s advice. He locks his arms tightly around Payu’s neck, letting him send the finger in and out of Rain’s back door repeatedly. His body stiffens and he breathes heavily while Payu stays calm. Payu doesn’t rush the process. He keeps going easy on the boy and keeps feeding him passionate kisses as he tries to find the right spot with his finger. Finally, Rain shrieks and trembles and thrusts his hips towards him.

From one, to two, to three fingers- he wants the younger man to get used to it bit by bit.

“P-Payu.”

Payu has already drawn his fingers back out. Rain lies flat on the bed, feeling drained. The younger one opens his eyes and calls the tall man’s name. His voice is shaking, but it sounds sweet as hell to the one being called.

When Rain’s eyes are half-closed, he gets a glimpse of Payu tearing a sachet of a condom with his teeth and pulling his hair back roughly. Rain feels a spasm in his tummy and goosebumps all over. He can’t keep his eyes open to the extremely handsome vision that could give him a heart attack, and Payu just won’t waste the time.

The tall man’s body lies on Rain’s body again, and this time he’s not giving foreplay, but the real invasion which makes Rain go wide-eyed.

“Ah… Hurts! It hurts! *sob*”

Rain cries and breathes heavily, scratching wildly on Payu’s back. The tall man, however, remains calm and keeps the boy in his embrace. Payu kisses Rain on his blood red lips and holds the position so Rain’s body could adjust. Then, he makes a movement again, very slowly, while keeping his eyes on the delicate boy who flinches every time he pushes his hot tendon into the soft tunnel.

“Payu, kiss-”

Rain sobs as he begs, and Payu fulfills his need. The sound of kissing fills the room while Payu keeps his hands occupied on Rain’s damp skin. And then he gradually intensifies the movements.

*gasp!*

Payu waits until Rain’s painful groans change into a pleasant moan before he thrusts his crotch incessantly. The sound of their flesh hitting one another resonates in the bedroom in harmony with their labored breathing.

“Payu- umph- ahhh…”

“Good boy.”

As well as the temperature of the room, their lust is also rising. The legs of the bed are making a rhythmic noise against the floor.

*swoosh*

“Ah! Payu!”

Suddenly, the tall man lifts the boy up and makes him sit on his lap, pressing another kiss onto the boy’s lips and forcing his hips to move in sync with the sensual tempo. Rain can only keep his legs wide open, sink his face in Payu’s neck, and moan for his life.

Up to this moment, Rain is almost choking on the overwhelming happiness that Payu showers him with.

“Rain.”

Rain looks at the man who’s calling his name with teary eyes.

“I’m your husband now,” Payu whispers in a rough voice. Rain locks his arms around the tall man’s neck.

“Repeat it.”

“What?!”

Then, out of the blue, Payu stops moving. Rain, who is only one step closer to heaven, cries in disbelief and gets an evil grin as a response. That sweaty face, those eagle eyes, and the wet strands of hair framing those cheeks are making a very sexy combination for his partner. However, Rain doesn’t have time to think of anything because someone is about to back off and away from his body.

“Payu, don't stop now. Don’t.”

“Let me hear what I wanna hear first.”

“No… Payu, stop messing with me. I’m almost there.”

“I’ll quit now if you don’t say it.”

“*sniffle* Damn you!” Rain scowls and punches Payu hard at the shoulder. He’s dying to cum, tears brimming in his eyes, and he looks at the tall man with a pleading glare. Still, Payu repeats his demand.

“Say it. ‘Rain belongs to Payu now’.”

“N-”

The tall man grasps Rain’s member so hard that he squirms with desire.

“I-*sniffle*- I belong to you now. *sob* Please, Payu. Don’t do this to me. I can’t. I’m about to get there already.”

Rain sinks his face into Payu’s shoulder, begging.

*smooch*

“Good boy,” says the tall man once he gets what he wants, and he rewards Rain with a big kiss on the cheek.

Then he makes Rain lie flat on the bed again and looks into those sweet almond eyes. He lifts up Rain’s hips with both hands and heavily thrusts his crotch. Finally, both of them are free from all refrains. The two moan loudly as they bump into one another.

“Rain, you’re mine now.”

Payu repeats his statement.

And the whole time, Rain keeps calling the tall man’s name as he holds tight to the one he trusts.

Perhaps Rain himself isn’t going with the flow, but his heart itself has gone to this handsome man.

---

*Buzzz!*

In a bedroom that looks as disordered as a post-warfare battlefield, someone who has just gone through a love wrestling a few hours ago slowly opens his eyes. There’s an irritating sound of something vibrating under the pile of clothes beside the bed. He squints, trying to withstand the light. He doesn’t remember where he is at first, until he makes a move.

“Ow!”

Rain exclaims, grabbing his hips when a pang runs all over his body.

He lies on the bed for another while before he realizes what happened to his back door.

Yeah, he finally got me.

Rain sinks his face into his palms and screams silently. He kicks the mattress multiple times to relieve his embarrassment, and then has to stop due to the ache shooting up all over. The vision of the most recent event appears in his mind again. He recalls the happenings in the bathroom and on the bed after that, then Payu took him back into the shower again, and then they ended up doing it on the bed again one more time.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he has to. He let it happen.

If it’s something he’s not willing to do, he wouldn’t have ended up doing it in bed with Payu again.

#payu #rain #payurain #love in the air #lita #love storm #excerpt

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cosyvelvetorchid · 3 months ago

Note

Bucktommy (any rating): Orchids

This was a lovely one to write, thank you 🩶

***

The day had finally arrived. After weeks of slowly packing up his things in between his shifts, Buck was finally moving in with Tommy.

There wasn’t really all that much to move in on the day - Buck had been taking a couple of boxes of stuff over to Tommys every time he stayed over, so all that was left was the the remainder of his kitchen equipment, toiletries and the washer and dryer which were far newer than Tommys who had agreed to donate his own machines to make room for Bucks.

In the two weeks of preparation Tommy himself had taken the opportunity to clear out some of his possessions and get rid of some junk. Mostly books he’d long since read and random tools and car parts.

Buck flopped down on the sofa next to Tommy with a grunt. Tommy wrapped his arm around his neck pulling Bucks temple to his lips for a kiss.

“You okay, baby?” He asked. Buck slid his hands around Tommy waist.

“Tired. But happy.” He hummed into Tommys chest. Tommy replied with a kiss to the top of his head.

“Not regretting moving in?” He teased.

Buck placed a hand on Tommys chest for leverage to push himself up to meet Tommys eyes. “Not in a million years.” He grinned.

“Good.” Tommy leaned in for a soft kiss to his lips. Buck settled back down onto Tommys chest. After a few moments he noticed a large black book on the coffee table.

“What’s that?” He asked through a yawn.

“Oh, I wanted to show you.” Tommy said excitedly leaning forward to grab it. “I found it when I was clearing out stuff for your impending arrival.” He placed it on his lap and Buck sat up a little so look. “It’s a photo album that belonged to my grandmother.”

He opened it up and slowly flipped the pages. She really was quite beautiful when she was younger and Buck could see the family resemblance in the eyes and the signature smile lines.

“How old were you when she died?”

“Uh, 20.”

“Tell me about her.” Buck said resting his head on Tommy shoulder.

“She was so much fun. Eccentric at times. A little impulsive. You remind me of her sometimes, ya know.”

“Yeah?” The thought made Buck feel warm inside.

“Yeah. God, she would have loved you. She loved shenanigans and she definitely wouldn’t have had a hard time roping you in on them.” He laughed fondly. “She was always smiling and happy. I can’t ever remember being mad at anyone or any thing.” He flipped the page to a slightly browning and dog eared photograph of her standing next to a table, on top of which was a tall orchid with a “1st prize” rosette stuck to it.

“That was her favourite hobby - growing orchids. She won so many competitions at flower shows. She probably spent more money than she won as prizes but she loved it so much.”

“I wish I could have met her.” Buck said softly.

“Me too.”

A week later and Buck was entirely unpacked in his new home. He came off a 48 hour shift a few hours before Tommys 24 ended. He’d tried to stay awake for him coming home but minutes after he’d sat on their sofa his slid down and fell asleep.

Tommy arrived home and kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag by the door. “Hey baby.” He called out. “Baby?” He repeated when he got no response. He walked along the hall and peered into the living room and his heart melted at the sight.

Buck, his hands tucked in underneath his chin as he lay soundly asleep sprawled along the sofa. Tommy quietly walked in the room and slowly pulled the crocheted blanket from the back of the sofa and gently draped it over him. He placed a delicate kiss onto his head and left the room for the kitchen.

As he entered the room he stopped dead in his tracks. On the centre of the kitchen island was a white ceramic plant pot with a beautiful bright blue orchid planted inside. He felt a rush of warmth fill every crevice in his body at the thoughtfulness of his boyfriend.

There was a time in his life not too far in the past when he didn’t think he’d ever find someone special, let alone someone as thoughtful and attentive as Evan. He smiled as a tear escaped his eye and snaked its way down his cheek.

He walked over and tentatively ran his finger along one of the petals.

“Do you like it?” A groggy voice came from behind him. He turned his head to see Buck, eyes slightly scrunched with sleep and hair disheveled. He fell in love with him just a little bit more right there.

He walked straight over to him, one hand grabbed around Bucks waist and the other the back of his neck and pulled him in for a firm kiss. Buck hummed in response and Tommys heart flipped in his chest.

“I love you.” He whispered releasing the kiss and resting their foreheads together.

Buck smiled happily “I love you, too.” He said. “And I hope your grandma taught you some shit because I have no idea how to keep this bad boy alive.” Tommy’s head leant back as he let out a loud laugh.

“I’m sure we can figure it out.”

#tommy kinard #911 abc #bucktommy #911 #911onabc #buck x tommy #911 buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #bucktommy fic #cvo prompts #bucktommy prompt #bucktommy prompts #911 prompt #911 prompts

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mjolnirswriststrap · 9 months ago

Text

Trying To Derail My One Track Mind

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Part 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 3,225

Summary: Part 2/2 Life was simple, till you met your boss.

Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating on a significant other, oral f and m receiving, bondage, p in v.

You hadn’t slept that good in ages, that’s all you can think as you rise from your side of the bed. Stretching your arms above your head, then reaching for your phone, you must’ve woken up before your alarm, you do that all the time.

When you check the time your heart jumps from your chest. It’s 10:30, the guest would be ready for their hangover bloody mary’s any second. You know you turned your alarm on before you went to sleep. You turn around to see Bucky still sleeping. You roll your eyes, rich people.

You try to leave without raising him from sleep, but you’re not so lucky. He rolls towards you and it’s only now you see that he had no shirt on. Weird since it was freezing in the room, you could see snow building up on the window sills. Your eyes linger on him for a moment too long, “Like what you see?” He bares his teeth to you in a wide smile.

You avert your eyes, a blush covering your whole face. “I’m so sorry, excuse me.”. You grab your phone from the nightstand and try to leave. He grabs your hand, “It’s okay, you don’t have to go.” His eyes bore into yours.

You were starting to understand what you thought before, his eyes make girls act like fools. With bated breath you pull your hand away, “I don’t think my fiancé would appreciate this, I have to go.”. You didn’t stand up to leave. You found your body ignoring your brain. You couldn’t look away from him, and he knew it.

Bucky sits up in bed, letting the blanket fall down to expose his naked upper half. Again, your body is doing things you can’t stop. Your eyes follow the toned curves of his chest down to the valleys created by his hipbones. “I don’t think your fiancé would appreciate a lot of things. Good thing I’m not inclined to care.” Something about the way he said that broke the trance his body has on you.

“I gotta get to work.” You say, putting yourself on that trusty autopilot that gets you through most days at work. You finally take your turn to leave without waiting for a response. It felt good, too good, like you could hold your head a little higher for getting by with it. The guests ate a quick breakfast before all departing, you looked out of the kitchen window as you scrubbed oats from the antique ceramic.

It snowed a lot more than forecasted. The fields behind the house were almost unrecognizable in a blanket of snow. You lean closer to the cold glass, looking towards your car, it was completely buried. You promised that you’d be home early tonight for new years dinner at your in laws house. If the snow didn’t let up soon, you’d never get home.

On days with no guests you do most of your management work. Taking inventory, ordering deliveries, making a new schedule for your cooks. It takes the longest time out of anything you do at the manor. It’s 6 when you get off the phone with the trucking company that delivers the food, they won’t be able to make it till after the weekend, when the snow clears up.

You finally leave the break room, since there’s no windows you couldn’t tell how dark it was getting. You go to the back door to check and see if your car was gonna make it out of the driveway, but the door was blocked by snow, it wouldn’t budge.

You let out a huff and it causes a cloud to appear infront of you. It was freezing in this old house, if you weren’t in a room with a fireplace you were out of luck. You search through every room till you find one burning. You close the library door behind you, not wanting to let the heat out. You see Bucky sitting at the desk, reading over files for something.

“Mind if I join you?” You wouldn’t have asked, but you were still operating on autopilot. You knew he didn’t mind one bit that you were in his presence. You curl up on the couch beside the fireplace, back facing the rest of the room. “It’s not looking good out there.” He says, you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll even make it out of here when my shift ends.” You don’t look at him, but can tell he’s smiling when he says “Oh no.”. You roll your eyes because you know he can’t see you. You take notice when he joins you infront of the fire.

“Another night at the manor, I’m gonna have to start charging you.” He says, kicking his feet up beside you. You hope he’s joking. “There was a strange man in my bed last night, I’d like a full refund.” You counter.

“States in the fine print, if you like it, refunds are void.” You knew he was flirting with you, unashamedly, but you didn’t want him to stop. Maybe it was the way the flames danced on his features or him always deciding to sit right beside you, but your guard was down, and you found your body doing the frozen thing again, heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Who said I enjoyed it?” You say, hoping to knock him down a peg. He shrugs his shoulders and looks to you, “You said all you needed to say this morning.”. He says it in a matter of fact tone. You know he’s talking about the way you so obviously checked him out 2 feet away.

“I’m sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking, you’re my boss and I’m engaged, it was highly inappropriate.” You say, keeping your self control. Guilt helped you, your fiancés face clouding your mind.

“Don’t apologize, doll. I tend to have that effect on people.” You laugh out loud, you couldn’t help yourself. You can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, based on the shit eating grin, he was joking.

“I just don’t want to give off the wrong idea.” You say, looking down at your hands. “And what’s that?” You can’t even look at him. This cat and mouse game was getting out of control.

You’re both just sitting beside each other, harmlessly flirting one second. The next second could be an entirely different story if you don’t tread lightly, “That I like you.” You look to him to see he’s smiling at you “What?” You say.

Bucky stands from the little couch, walking over to the hot coals. He blows on them to reignite the flames. “I didn’t peg you for a liar.”. The fires completely out, his technique failing. The tiny amount of warmth leaked from the cracks in the window seal, leaving you frozen mentally and physically.

“I’m not.” You say, standing up to leave. You couldn’t argue with him and you knew it. The reason being either because he’s your boss, or you don’t know you’d lose. “Where are you going?” He asks, following you to the kitchen. You decide to ignore him for a moment while you bundle up in many layers. Once you pull on your gloves you’re addressing him again. “I have a dinner to make it to, with my fiancés parents. It was uh nice to meet you I guess, till next time.” You nod your head and turn your back to him, fishing your keys from your bag.

You let out a scream when your face hits the glass on the door, the frost feeling like needles on your skin. “That’s cute, too bad you won’t make it.” He breathes in your ear. “Get off Bucky, I meant it.” You say, wiggling in his grasp. He had his body pressed against you, caging you to the door.

He reaches up and brushes your hair back, exposing the crook of your neck. “So now I’m Bucky? I’m afraid that ship has sailed sweet girl.” He chuckles, and now you realize how serious the situation was becoming. It hits you that he really does not care that you’ve promised yourself to someone else.

“Admit that you want me too, then I’ll let you go.”. Your throat goes dry, you know if he’s gone to these lengths then that’s not all it’s gonna take. “Please just let me go, I’ll pretend like this never happened.” You don’t know if you mean it. The way his body molded to yours would be seared into your brain.

You know you shouldn’t like the way he tightly gripped your hands behind your back. Or the way that the pain in your frost bitten cheek made your body heat up. You just had to get through the niceties of going down a path you couldn’t turn back on. Cheating on a partner is terrible, you know that. It’s why your brain won’t stop pleading to stop, but your body knows what it wants.

He drops your hands, holding them between you. You could easily slip away now, but you don’t even pull your arms free, you stay there with your breath held. “That’s not what I asked, now was it?” He pulls your face towards him, causing your neck to crane in an inhuman way. You look into his eyes and it’s not the same person. He looked between yours with expectation. You managed to croak out “I admit it.”. He steps back, releasing you from his hold.

“See that wasn’t so hard.” You turn your body around to face him, he’s still standing in your bubble. “So I can leave now?” You say, a little part of you hoping he has something else up his sleeve. What he pulls just isn’t what you expected.

“Oh doll, you’re never leaving.” You drop whatever role you’ve been playing the last two days. The thought of being trapped in this house waking you up from whatever spell Bucky had put you under. “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out in a high pitched huff. He takes back his spot pressing you against the door, but this time you’re looking him in the eye. “Like I said, you’re just what I need, the perfect person to run this place. It’s yours now, why would I let you leave?” His hand goes for your face, you feel his thumb caressing your lips; outlining them with the tip of his finger.

“Bucky, I’ll admit to the flirting, I’ll admit that I want you too, but it’s nothing more than that. At the end of the day I still have to go home to my fiancé.” You gave it one last shot before you completely give up trying. “I don’t think you’re getting it.” His eyes are black now, like an apex predator, he reaches up and grabs you by the chin. “What I want, I get.” Your body finally betrays your mind and you nod your head. Keeping your mouth shut while doing it.

He’s taken control over the situation, and you couldn’t fight anymore, putty in his hands. “Good girl, now call your ex boyfriend up, tell him you’ve accepted a big promotion, end things with him.” You don’t know what you’re gonna say, your fiancé knew you too well. He’d know somethings up. “He won’t believe it. He’ll come here, start asking questions and become a real problem for you.” You don’t know why you fed him with information. You weren’t even scared, you’d just accepted your fate.

“Then what are you proposing?” You turn your head and look at the snow still coming down hard. “Let the car fall over a hill, snow will cover foot steps and tire tracks. No one would see the car till everything melted, think i got lost and died somewhere in the woods.” You don’t know where that came from, honestly, faking your own death had never crossed your mind before, but somehow you were a genius at it.

Bucky seemed to like the idea because he leans forward, abruptly pressing his lips to yours. Your body takes over the autopilot seat, shutting your brain off completely. Your lips moved with his in an intoxicating way, you could quite literally feel yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls away. “What made you change your mind?” You know he was gonna ask eventually. “I gave up fighting it, fighting you.” You reach your hands out and lay them on his chest. “I’ve been trying my best to be a good girl these last 24 hours.”. You slide your fingers down to his waistband.

“I think I need some practice, to show myself,” you unbuckle his belt, “just how much,” you drop to your knees, pulling his slacks down with you. “I like being bad.”. You finish your theatrics with putting your hands behind your back, keeping your chin down but your eyes up.

You watched as his cock grew hard in his boxers. Bucky finishes your job and pushes them down, letting them fall to the floor. All your eyes could focus on was how big he was. You knew you’d be settling if you ran back to your fiancé now.

You don’t see him reach out and grasp your pony tail, wrapping it around his hand like a rein. He guides himself to your closed mouth, rubbing the tip across your bottom lip “I think you’re being a very good girl.” With that little praise you opened your mouth slightly, sticking out your tongue to wrap around the tip, coaxing his leaking cock into your mouth.

You liked having no control, letting your mouth be used by him. It electrified you, giving up was the best thing you could’ve done. “You like teasing me? Hmm?” He pulls your head back so you would meet his eye. The thought of being punished by Mr. Barnes was enough to make you nod your head, and wrap your lips completely around his tip, sucking lightly.

You feel precum drip onto your tongue, and you take the chance to stick it out and show him. You slid your tongue down to the base of him, smearing cum down his shaft. You look up with puppy dog eyes. “Want me to clean that up for you Mr. Barnes?” You bat your lashes.

You feel the hand in your hair tighten, and the vein in his forehead get bigger. “You’re gonna pay for that.” You bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from smiling. You didn’t want him to know just how much you anticipated his idea of punishment.

You’d brought the ideas up to your fiancé about role playing. You tried to teach him that sometimes pain could be pleasure but he never understood. So you let it go, but you held onto the fantasies you had about being spanked, denied climax after being brought to the brink over and over, being used like a lifeless doll whose only purpose is pleasure.

He derails your train of thought by shoving himself to the back of your throat. Your hands instinctively push his hips back to brace yourself. “Tsk, you need to be tied down don’t you?” He steps out of his pants pooled at his ankles.

He lifts you up, using your hair as a leash, leading you through the house, up to the master. The door was already open, a red glow flooding the hall. When you’re finally dragged through the door you see the fireplace blazing, candles surround the bed. For a moment you wonder why he had prepared all of this if you were supposed to leave.

“I was never gonna let you go.” He leads you to the bed, you crawl to the middle of the bed, waiting for further instruction. He walks around to the right side of the room, pulling open the top dresser drawer. He retrieves rope, coming back to stand beside the bed. “Just because you never saw me doesn’t mean it was the same for me.”.

He crawls up beside you, looping the rope into the headboard, tying your hands up against it. “I knew you were perfect on your first day at the manor.” He gets on top of you, kneeling so he can unbutton your white uniform top. “You did even see me, holding onto every word Bruce said, you were completely oblivious to the man following you around the mansion with cameras.” You didn’t even know the house had cameras. To be honest it shouldn’t since the things that go down here. You wonder what he’s watched you do, let your employees eat whatever they want, cut corners even though he says not to, take extra long breaks in less busy hours.

“Should I be weirded out? Cause that kinda turns me on.” You joke, poking fun at the fact that it was actually really creepy he watches you on the cameras. “You’re laughing now.” He scoots down the bed, stripping you of the rest of your clothes.

“How would you like your punishment?” He easily flips your body over, baring your ass to him. “I could whip you till you’re crying, begging me to stop.” He slaps your cheek, leaving a welt in the shape of his hand. He turns you back around and crawls up your body, pressing his cock to your lips again. “I could make you gag while I shove my dick deeper and deeper down your throat, and you’ll be begging me to breathe.” He pushes himself past the barrier your lips tried to form. Letting his tip make its way to the tightness of your throat. You can’t help but to swallow, causing your muscles to tighten. “Keep doing that and I’ll choose for you.” He pulls himself away from you, letting you catch your breath.

Bucky finds himself with his face between your legs. He couldn’t help himself but to dive right in and taste you. You were glistening from your own arousal. You bucked your hips into him, helping yourself get closer the high you’re both chasing. Right when your legs begin to shake he stops “or you could beg me to cum all night.”.

He comes up to face you, “All I know is you’ll be begging.”. Your blood shot eyes search his, how could you pick, all of them were exactly what you wanted. “None of those choices involve you inside me.”. You leave Bucky wordless as you wrap your untied legs around his waist, rubbing yourself against his hard cock.

He presses himself into you, the mess he already created allowed him to easily slip inside. The deeper he pushed you felt the air get sucked from your chest, your cheeks growing red hot. “No one’s ever..” you throw your head back, letting your jaw slack open. No one’s ever bottomed you out like this, stretched your walls while pounding on your cervix.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He remained unmoving until you adjusted to the size of him. The longer he stayed still, the more apparent the stinging and rips felt inside of you. “Please?” You just want him to move, even if it hurts. Bucky breaks out in a big smile “See baby? I told you you’d be begging me at some point tonight.”.

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