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bizbat · 9 months

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I Know a Place ~ 1

~ Spiderverse x Fem!Spider!Reader

~ Reader is shorter than Miles, Pav, and Hobie, but appearance is otherwise not mentioned

~ Possible love interest include: Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar, Earth 42 Miles, and Margo Kess.

~ Reader is a newer spider, who, after losing a fight against an anomaly that found its way into her universe, is consoled by her friends.

~ Wc: 1.9k

~ You can find more of my works here

~ Contents include: Fluff, Romance, Mostly platonic as of now, Slight angst, Comfort, Horror, Mentions of blood, Intimate non sexual touch, Slight Yearning.

Somewhere, in New York . . .

A group of teenagers clad in brightly colored spandex suits, sit in a booth at a small cafe. The cafe itself is a cozy, little hole-in-the-wall, known only to those lucky enough to live nearby. The teenagers rest their tired bodies, allowing their muscles to melt into the soft leather seats, as they're embraced by the warm aroma of nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla, and cocoa.

The calming scents swirled in the air, providing the teenagers a much needed sense of comfort and relief. They chatted amongst themselves, some excited from the battle they had just won, some wearily listening and occasionally providing their own input. All engaging in the conversation one way or another. All except for one.

One of the teenagers sat silently staring into her drink. Her mind, like her peers, was still on the fight the had just walked away from, though unlike them, she wasn't exactly satisfied with the outcome. She tried to focus her gaze on the hot beverage clasped between her hands, and not on the dirt and blood splattered on her gloved fingers.

Everytime she closed her eyes she could still see it.

Horror starts here -

Previously . . .

He was an anomaly, a horrifying variant of the criminal Rhino. He was a massive man with stocky , tree trunk-like stubs for legs. He had huge, muscular arms, his fingers were thick nubs, a solid plate of keratin from his first knuckle to the tip of his fingers. Despite his giant stature, his bodybuilder physique, and his inhuman limbs which were covered in tough, dark grey skin, the characteristic that most caught the teenager's attention was his face. Two massive tusks sprouted from his skull, piercing his flesh, and causing dark blood to leak over his head, face and shoulders.

He was clearly in pain, screaming as he flung any and everything he could lift over his head. Cars, fire hydrants, chunks of sidewalk. Nothing was safe from him in his rampage. He spared no mercy as he threw objects towards innocent civilians. Thankfully, by the time Y/n had gotten there, most of the bystanders had already fled the scene, and the few that remained were quickly moved to safety. The teenager turned her attention back to the rhino-man as soon as the last citizen was safe and secure.

"You really do live up to the n-"

Y/n could barely get a word out before she was flung into the side of a building. She slowly rose to her elbows, her head spinning as broken glass clattered onto the ground around her. She felt something warm and wet run down on cool on her face beneath her mask. She hobbled to her feet the minute the loud, incessant pounding in her head stopped, another quip already on her lips, only to be interrupted once again by a whack to the face. She felt like she'd been hit with a wrecking ball as she flew through the air.

Horror ends here -

She crashed into the pavement, her head smacking the ground that cracked around her, before slowly rolling to a halt. She tried to push herself back up, with what felt like boneless arms. Her arms weakly trembled before collapsing beneath her weight. Fear rushed through her veins as the sound of thunderous footsteps approached her weakened body.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, her fists clenched and her breathing quickened as she braced herself, preparing her body to take more abuse. She felt dread embalm her entirely, her sweat cold on her skin, as the Rhino rose his arms above his head.

But before the Rhino could bring his clubbed fists down upon Y/n's crumpled body, the loud riff of an electric guitar rang through the air.

Her eyes remained closed, as bright yellows, purples, and blues flashed across the sky in blinding geometric shapes. Y/n's stiff body ironically relaxed at the sound of fighting and music, her body and mind fully exhausted. She only began to open her eyes when she heard a familiar voice softly calling her name, gently coaxing her to rise to her feet.

Currently . . .

Y/n sat near the window, strictly gazing into the mug between her hands. She had been so focused on her own moping she hadn't noticed the conversation around her had begun to lull.

"Y/n, you alright there, bruv?"

Her head snapped up, her attention suddenly placed on the british man seated across from her.

"Huh!?" Y/n's gaze drifted to the other teenagers sitting with her, unintentionally now the center of their attention. "What do you mean? I'm fine. I'm okay."

The teenagers around her exchanged glances before turning back to her. "Y'know, it's okay if you aren't okay, though," Gwen, the blonde sitting beside her replied, her voice had been the one to pull Y/n from her pained stupor. Gwen gently placed her cup of hot cocoa onto the table in front of her, before lightly stroking Y/n's forearm with her thumb.

"I know, I'm okay. Really. . . I am." Y/n dropped her gaze back to the hot, sweet smelling beverage in her hands. The cafe the teenagers took refuge in had some of the best food and drinks any of the spider's had ever had. It was a family business, run by an older couple and tended to by their granddaughter. It had been a place of comfort for Y/n since she had come across it while chasing a pickpocket down an alley.

Unconvinced, the rest of the teens sat quietly. "Is it about the fight cause if it is you got nothing to worry about" said miles, a chocolatey ring on his top lip. "When I was 'bout a month into being Spider-man, I had to fight Scorpion." Miles shook his head. "Lost so bad, it was on the news. My mom heard about it."

"Really?" Hobie questioned, taking a bite of his pastry, "That bad, huh", he followed earning a glare from Miles.

"Oh please, that's nothing! When I first became Spider-Woman, I got absolutely wrecked by Doc Oc! I got publically laughed at for two weeks!" Countered Gwen, her hands moving as she spoke. "I couldn't go out without hearing someone laugh about it."

Hobie chuckled, causing Gwen to toss a large marshmallow in his direction, "And what of you, Pav?"

"First of all, what about you, Hobie? You've never lost a fight?" Said Pavitr, flustered at the sudden attention. "Oi we'll get there when we get there, yeah? Your turn."

Pavitr sat back in the booth, his hand raised to his chin as he thought of his most embarrassing loss. "One time I . . . got . . . a got a bloody nose through my mask?"

"Yeah, but did you lose?" Asked Miles.

". . .no. But it was on TV!" Pavitr raised both hands in defence after earning a playful groan from the whole table, "Of course not", and "No surprise there" flying from his friend's mouths. "I'm sure mine will happen sooner or later!" Pav turned to face Hobie once again. "Okay, okay, your turn, Hobie. Tell us your most embarrassing story." Hobie sniffed, leaning back and putting his arms behind his head. "What's there to talk about, mate? I never lose."

"Right." It was the first thing Y/n had said with a smile on her face. Hobie glanced over at her, a soft smile replacing the frown she wore earlier. Hobie straightened in his seat, "Well-I mean- I-This one time right," Y/n laughed at his sudden disposition, "I was just off holiday, y'know, so of course I'm gonna be a bit rusty, a little out of it, y'know," the table began to giggle at his frantic excuses.

"But yeah, I'd just come off holiday, I start to swing around, warm up, got my blood flowing again, out of nowhere, this-this airship comes flying my way, absolutely massive, comes outta nowhere," "Oh it came at you, did it?" Pavitr asked between laughs. "Yeah," Hobie claimed, a faux irritation coating his words "It came at me, Pav man, you even listening? So it comes at me," he continued.

"I'm looking down, hundreds of adoring fans below, all lookin' back up at me, my senses kick in, little too late, yeah, but they do," Miles wheezes at Hobie's erratic retelling, his fist lightly pounding the table, as gwen writhes in her seat with her head thrown back. Y/n and Pavitr exchange glances with tears in their eyes whenever Hobie stumbles over his words or repeats himself.

"I look up at just the right time for the universe to take it out on me, i guess, and then WHAM! I smack into the aircraft, face first, all my fans still watching me as I plumet to certain death, just laughing, like I don't protect them everyday from the cold, greedy hands of a power-abusing, capitalistic, autocratic, and bigoted nightmare!"

By now every teen at the table is in hysterics, laughing so loud the table shakes with all their food and drink. Hobie and Miles have taken the slapping each others arms, as they cackle at Hobie, as Gwen has visible tears pouring down her face.

After being yelled at for being to loud and calming down, the group sits in a pleasant silence. Y/n sighed, yeah, today could've gone better for her, but in the end, she was thankful she had the kind of friends willing to embarass themselves to make her feel better. "Thank you, guys," Y/n mumbled out, a happy yet somber expression on her face, as they began to meander out of the cafe. "For tonight, and for . . . earlier."

"Aye, no problem, Y/n," Miles said, slipping an arm over her shoulder and looking into her eyes, a warm grin spread across his dimpled cheeks. "Any time." Pavitr gently stroked her knuckles with his thumb as he held her hand. The teens took off in the direction of Y/n's home, joking all the way. They saw her safely to her door.

Noticing the time, Gwen turned to Y/n and wrapped her arms tightly around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I gotta get going," she saldy muttered as she squeezed Y/n. She pulled slightly from their embrace. "But I'll see you tomorrow?" Gwen stared into her face for confirmation, a playful smirk rising to her face as her cheeks heated up. "Bye Gwen, I'll see you tomorrow." Y/n felt her own cheeks grow warm, a little dismayed when Gwen fully pulled her arms from her.

Pavitr swallowed her form in his own muscular arms from behind, resting his cheek on her head. "I have to leave too," He groaned. Y/n giggled as he complained, a playfully sad look on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow too, Pav." Y/n laughed again as Hobie had to physically pull Pavitr away from her, before squeezing her shoulder himself and winking as he stepped through the portal.

Miles was the last to leave, he always was. He wanted to make sure Y/n was okay, having been no stranger to messing up himself. "You good?" Y/n sighed again, but this time it was filled with much less sorrow. She looked up at Miles and felt a warm smile rise to her lips. "I'm good Miles . . . Thank you. Really." Miles shrugged his shoulders as he beamed at Y/n before hugging her goodbye like the others. He lingered, just a bit, before letting his arms slip from her shoulders.

Miles stepped towards the portal, turning to grin at Y/n for the last time that night.

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

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Hunted by a sunless city that never sleeps (part 4)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. NSFW!!!

Werewolf!AU for the short series that began with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). Can be read as a standalone.

This is part four of five. This fic is dedicated to @alphaash99.

Title taken by another song by Beast in Black -Moonlight Rendezvous- since it's not part of the main continuity. Kuraigana Island is Mihawk's home in the manga/anime.

Shanks being in a relationship with his crew's doctor is an allusion to this headcanon list and then to this fic, even though they take place in a different continuity.

*****

It is a thunder that awakes Mihawk, the loudest since the fury of the elements has been unleashed on Kuraigana Island, sign of a lightning that must have struck the ground just outside the castle; he opens his eyes, already alert even though he is instinctively aware he is not in danger, and after a moment he sighs, since not even the world's strongest swordsman can control the weather even though that persistent storm is seriously starting to annoy him.

He turns on his side in the dark room, reaching out to take your warm body in his arms and keep you close until he falls asleep... and a moment later he stops dead.

Because once more, the other half of the bed is empty and you are not there, and for Mihawk that fact is not simply a little disappointing (he has grown to like falling asleep with you close, like a child with his favourite teddy bear; it is vaguely embarrassing, but after all there are no witnesses to his little guilty pleasure) or disconcerting (where could you have gone, in the middle of the night? Maybe to relive yourself? Or to take a snack from the kitchen, since you skipped dinner?)... That night, of all the nights, it is terrifying.

Mihawk curses under his breath - a much rarer occurrance than a full moon; how could he be so stupid? He had perceived you were scared for what was about to happen, and that he needed to keep an eye on you, until dawn if needed, but the vigorous sex you had dragged him in (Gods, intimacy was always good and intense between the two of you, but that had been the best fuck of his life, no doubt about it) had put him to sleep without him even realizing, giving you the chance to slip away.

Where are you? Is it already too late? Mihawk's fear is only partially assuaged when, resting his hand on the other half of the mattress, he perceives a trace of your body warmth, which means you must have just left. He quickly stands, grabbing his lounging robe off the back of a chair, and quickly puts it on as he strides out of the room.

"(name)!" he calls out as he crosses the empty corridor "(name), where are you?! Dammit, woman... answer me!"

In the end he finds you, as you try and scuttle along towards the least used wing of the castle; he grabs you by the wrist, resisting when you desperately try to free yourself. You are also wearing a night gown, and when he sees you shiver your lover knows it is not because of the cold.

"Let me go."

"(name), you're going to be fine, let me help you..."

"You can't help me!" you cry, frustrated "No one can; and yes, I'm going to be fine, as long as you leave me alone and I can find a room with a door sturdy enough to withstand the charge of an angry rhino. You... you don't understand; you are in danger, you need to get as far away as you can..."

"I know." he interrupts you, relaxing his grip on your wrist just enough so he's not hurting you, still making sure you cannot escape "I know everything, (name)."

You blink. "What...?"

"I know you are a werewolf. And that you are going to change tonight."

That is the precise moment the storm surrounding the castle and the whole island finally subsides; the rain stops falling, and the cold gale that had already uprooted more than one tree eases in a gentle breeze. You notice nothing of it, though, and not just because your eyes are focused on Mihawk and not on the view out of the window; a bomb could explode in the corridor, and you would ignore it all the same.

For a whole minute you are physically unable to talk, mouth hanging open and your legs that for a moment threaten to collapse under you; you know you are awake, but the statement you have just heard is so unexpected, so utterly absurd, you would easily believe you are dreaming, because... because...

"How." you say in the end, without even making it sound like a question.

"I have a friend who is a werewolf; he told me for your kind shifting into wolf form is usually deliberate, unless one is very young and has yet to learn to control it, or in case of a strong emotion... or during the plenilune, when the influence of the moon is too strong to resist. When you told me you necessarily had to be on your island on full moon nights, without exception, I realized it had to be because that is the only place where you can transform in complete safety. Also, there was your flask."

"My... flask?" you repeat numbly, a moment before realizing "Oh..."

"I... must admit, I was curious to know why you always kept it with you, and kept drinking from it in secret; I feared it was a medicine, and you hadn't told me you were sick in order not to make me worry. So, about one year ago, I waited for you to be busy with training and took it from your bag; I recognized the smell of monkshood, and my friend told me werewolves drink it in order to control the transformation in the days before the full moon, when it is already harder for some of them to keep it at bay."

Mihawk looks expectantly at you, but you are still unsure how to react; there is no one in the whole world you are closer to, except your mother, and you know he is an honourable man who sincerely cares about you, but knowing that he, a foreigner, a human, is aware of your secret is nonetheless terrifying, something you have been taught to avoid at all cost ever since you were a baby.

Also, for the first time since you first met, you are angry - and hurt. The truth is, you don't even need the concoction the island's herbalist prepares for you, since you have never had troubles controlling your shifting (except obviously during the full moon, when you simply can't help it) but you drink it nonetheless when you meet your lover, at his home or elsewhere, just to be sure. And now, you find you, it was because of that very abundance of caution that Mihawk discovered what you are...

"You shouldn't have gone through my things, even if out of worry for my health." you point out, your arms folded on your chest "I wouldn't have expected that of you."

"You're right." he admits; Mihawk looks sincerely remorseful "I was wrong to do it, whatever the reason. I am sorry, (name)."

You wonder whether you are the first person to hear him apologize since he was still child; you sigh, appreciating his repentance even though it can't make him magically forget what he knows... and has known for a year already.

Why didn't you tell me?, you would like to ask, and maybe you will, once you have the time.

"If you know what is happening, you will understand it is not safe for you to be near me." you softly point out, intimately aware of how fast your time is running out; you are shivering, feeling the wolf raising her head inside you "I'm serious, Mihawk; I... I cannot control it. I hoped getting drunk would help, make her ill enough to render her harmless, but I woke up and I was fine."

Your lover takes a step towards you. "I am not afraid of you."

"But you should be. Normally we are not dangerous, but if we are alone when we shift... there is something in the solitude that upsets the wolf and makes controlling their instincts much harder."

Another step. He is now close enough your wolf can smell him, and her reaction, that you can feel burning inside you, separate from your rational mind but somehow linked to it, is somehow blurred... familiarity and fear meshed together, as if she couldn't help feeling a pull towards him, and at the same time her instincts told her to attack. Part of you would wish nothing more than to embrace him, and share with him that part of your life you have been taught to keep secret whatever the cost; the other feels the irresistible instinct to run as far from your lover as you can, to keep him safe... and sparing yourself the need to witness his reaction.

"Mihawk, please..." you murmur; you have never liked begging (unless you are doing it in an -ehm- intimate setting) but this is what you are doing now, you are imploring him, ready to throw yourself at his feet to make him reason "You don't understand. I know how powerful you are, but... have you ever fought a werewolf?"

"Never."

"And you never should. This is the first time in my life I shift away from my island, away from my people; there is nothing more dangerous than a lone wolf, because they can't feel the calming presence of their pack and den. I can't guarantee I won't lose control, and if I do, I could hurt you."

Mihawk nods, as if accepting your explaination, but your relief lasts only for a moment before he steps even closer, and takes both of your hands in his to kiss them. "You know what I feel for you." he murmurs "I understand why you kept this matter secret from me, but I want to be part of your life, even of the scariest, hardest aspects of it. Don't hide for me, please, because from you I never have."

Your skin has started itching, a tell-tale sign of the wolf's fur about to spur and cover it, but you barely notice, only aware of the tears filling your eyes, and of the hands holding yours.

"If I hurt you I will never forgive myself."

"I have been wounded before. I will heal."

"Not if the wolf bites your head off; and if I wound your arm, I could make it impossible for you to use a sword properly, and we both know that would be a fate worse than death. Also..."

You bit your lip, because telling him you were in love with him was easy, not last because you had come to suspect he felt the same, but this confession is immensely harder, because you have no idea how he could react. "Also, I don't want you to fear me." you admit in the end, your voice barely raising above a whisper "I know how brave and strong you are, but... what if you decide I'm not worth it? What if you decide you better stay away, and save yourself the trouble? What if you simply can't look at me the way you did before?"

"(name)..."

Mihawk sighs; he doesn't tell you, but hearing you express your fears has made him even more determined to witness your shifting, to prove that nothing in the world, not even a God descended from the heavens to order him, could ever make him fear you, or make him look at you differently. "I have known the truth for more than a year." he gently points out "Have you ever had the impression I was treating you differently, or that I cared you less than before?"

"... no. Never. But..."

"But nothing, (name). I am not afraid of you; and whatever danger you might pose, I can face it. Now, where were you going?"

You tell him that, when you had awoken suddenly and felt the moon's call, you had decided to lock yourself up in a room at the top of one of the castle's tower, whose heavy doors (whose key you would have by then already tossed out of a window) would hopefully stop the wolf from escaping, keeping her prisoner until dawn.

"And how did you intend to leave the room without the key, once you had shifted back to your human form?"

"I... hadn't decided. I thought I could call until you heard me, and then I would find a way to explain it."

Mihawk smirks, clearly amused by your half-cooked plan. "Well, you have no more need to lie or pretend; I'm here, and I won't let you face the shifting alone."

He is so determined, so uncompromisingly sure of his convinction, you easily see it would be impossible to change his mind, even if you had time to plead your case - which you don't.

"Then you have to do something for me." you tell him, still holding his hand in yours "Let's go back to take Yoru, and my derringer."

"No, (name)."

"Yes, Mihawk. Please, we need to hurry, I have very little time left; don't make this even harder than it already is."

You sound desperate and you know it, but fortunately it works, and your lover accompanies you back to the master bedroom, where you both retrieve your favourite weapon.

"You should start spending every plenilune here." Mihawk mentions, which flabbergasts you.

"Why on earth should I do something like that? I just told you how dangerous it is, what...?"

Your question is answered even before you can fully utter it, when Mihawk glances meaningfully at the unmade bed next to you, and then smirks. "If that is the effect the shifting has on you, I'll be disappointed a full moon doesn't happen every night." he points out, perfectly serious; he balances Yoru against his shoulder, and brushes the fingers of his free hand against your lips "Is this a side effect of your wolf side getting the better of you?"

You smirk, flattered despite the fear and guilt. "Most people do mate during the plenilune, or have sex with their human partners soon after shifting back; it is said the full moon has an aphrodisiac effect, and wolves know no shame about their bodies or desires."

"Hmm, all the better for me then..."

Your conversation has to be cut short, given you can feel the need to shift more and more urgent with any passing moment; you retrieve your derringer from its holster, and follow Mihawk out of the bedroom. Two minutes later, you have both reached the room you had chosen, completely devoid of furniture and other things you could destroy while in wolf form, since they are not exactly indoor animals; you doubt your lover would have the time to slip outside and lock you in, but you make sure he has the key, and then offer him the butt of your gun, to wield together with Yoru.

"I have no silver bullets at hand, and I know you have no particular experience with guns, but if I were to attack you, aim for my heart. I'm serious, Mihawk." you add, seeing your lover is once more ready to argue "I cannot guarantee I'll be able to control myself since I'm alone, and away from my island for the first time. If I were to shift back, and realize I have killed you, I... I don't know what I would do. Please."

Your lover, while clearly unhappy, does take the gun from your hand. "Is your mother a werewolf as well?" he asks, curious.

"She is. Shifting is passed through blood, and since most people on my island intermarry, there is actually more than a fifty percent chance of any child being born a werewolf, and even more if both parents have the wolf-blood themselves. Everyone in my maternal family has it, so I would probably also pass it to my children, if I were to... well..."

He doesn't need to ask you to finish the sentence, since you told him about your inability to have children, and the dramatic reason behind it, on your first night together. He was clearly sympathetic, but he never told you whether that disappointed him, whether he ever thought about having children with you; and you never had the courage to ask.

"Anyway, I think I'm ready." you are quick to add; what is the point of lingering on what could never be? You ask Mihawk to keep his distance from you once you have begun shifting, and then you take his face in your hands, kissing him deeply "I love you." you murmur; you have been aware of that for a long time, much longer than you have been able to tell him, but suddenly it is as if your heart were overflowing with affection and desire, now that you feel so in danger of losing him "Please, if you do care about me, look after yourself."

"I am not afraid of you, (name)."

"That is exactly what worries me..."

You sigh, aware you have done everything you could to protect him, but unable to feel any consolation about the fact. Silence has fallen in the room; the whole island appears to stand still around you, a calm after the storm heavy with anticipation; alone at the centre of the room, you sigh, aware you have neither the strength nor a reason to linger anymore, and disrobe, leaving your gown in a corner of the floor. Mihawk follows your every movement, both anxious and fascinated; he has never seen anything as enchanting as your naked body bathed by the pale moonlight, and he will tell you, he promises himself, as soon as he can.

You smile at him, still worried but intimately grateful for his presence in a moment no wolf should ever face alone, and then your gaze is irresistibly drawn to the large ogive window in front of you... and to the shining full moon by now fully risen in the blue-black sky. It is a breath-taking scene, still now that you are an adult who has shifted hundreds of times; the pale light falls on you, and you smile, closing your eyes to better savour its caress on your naked skin...

And then it happens, as fierce and brutal as a bullet in your stomach and at the same time unspeakably pleasurable, as if something hidden inside you had been finally set free after a lifetime of captivity. As a young girl you have heard an older cousin mention the moon's call feels not unlike a powerful orgasm, and at the time you were way too young to understand that comparison, but now you know she was right... and how lucky you are, to be able to experience both regularly in your life.

Still with your eyes closed, you feel the transformation begin, the wolf inside you taking over your human rationality; soft fur, the same colour as your hair, covers your body, while a familiar but still peculiar sensation just above your buttocks reveals you have just grown a tail - long, fluffy, useful to balance you as you run or move over uneven ground, communicate with your pack-mates, and keep you warm in winter. Knowing your legs will not support you for much longer, you get down on your knees, arching your back as you feel your bones change shape to adapt to a quadruped walk. Wolves have twenty-four ribs, just like humans, but the shape of their skeleton is completely different, and the most painful part of the shifting is feeling the bones of your face elongate in a muzzle: your jaw becomes wider, your regular but innocuous teeth grow into fangs... and your ears move higher on your head, taking a triangular shape.

As usual, what makes you realize you are by now more wolf than woman are your senses. Your eyes can no longer see colours, the world having taken a blue-yellow hue that makes it hard, sometimes, to recognize shapes and objects; your sense of smell, on the other hand, is much more powerful, allowing you to perceive the presence of a rabbit at thirty paces from you, or the rain in the air after a storm... or the delicious chocolate cake the cook has prepared in the afternoon to celebrate a birthday on the next day. In wolf form you can't eat or drink what your human self can and even enjoys, while you appreciate raw meat... especially from a prey you have fallen yourself.

In less than two minutes, the shift is complete; you open your jaws, tasting the smell of dust on your tongue, and then throw your head back, vocalizing a long, triumphant howl that spreads in the night all around you, a serenade to the moon in thanks for the gifts she has conceded you once more. As the piercing note resonates in the night, you lift your ears, waiting for the wolves nearby to answer your call, so that you can find each other and reunite the pack.

But no one answers. You howl again, and a third time, still with no results, which immediately puts you on edge. Where is everyone? It is already unusual no one is in the room with you, since most families and groups of friends tend to gather together to spend the plenilune together, and your den (that is, the fortress where you were born, the largest building on your island, where your family has resided for centuries) is always full of wolves, members of your pack or friends who came to celebrate the moon's gift together.

Not this time; this time, you realize as you stand on your four legs, stretch your muscles and look all around you, you are all alone - which is the worst situation possible for a wolf to be in, despite the comforting presence of the moon that you can see through an opening (the wolf doesn't have the concept of window, just like she doesn't know what a ship is, or a gun, or anything man-made in nature) in the stone wall above you. Where is everyone? Did no one came? Or did the pack decide to meet somewhere else, and no one told you? Where is your mother?, you wonder as anxiety starts mounting inside you; where has she gone? She would never leave you alone. On every single plenilune of your life, ever since you were a tiny wolfnik barely out of her womb, she has always been close to you, her familiar and beloved face has been the first you saw after opening your glowing yellow eyes; even now that you are an adult, the future alpha of the great pack, and don't need guidance or protection anymore, you are still used to have her next to you. You need to have her next to you, or at the very least, you need to know she is safe, that no accident has occurred her and no larger animal has made her their prey.

Something very strange is happening, something new that you cannot comprehend, and that makes you nervous, your fur standing on end while a low growl escapes your jaws. Where are you? This is not your den, nor any place you have ever seen on the sea-surrounded land your pack inhabits; it is a large but stone-enclosed place, completely empty and smelling of old, as if no one had inhabited it for many moons. The dust in the air makes your nose itch; you can see no exit and the three openings, out of one of which you have seen the moon, are too high for you to jump to them. How did you come to this place? Who brought you, and only you, here? Have you been kidnapped? Perhaps someone wants to hurt you? If so, they will soon discover they have bitten more than they can chew...

You are, of course, perfectly safe, and simply victim of what your people calls the loner's (or traveller's; you are unfortunately suffering from both of them at the same time) confusion. The plenilune ritual is not simply a physiological obligation, a need you can't fight and might as well satisfy in the comfort of your own home, but also a spiritual experience, an occasion to honour your origins and seek communion with nature and your own kin; it is a time for celebration, for strengthening the bonds of family and friendship, and to leave behind the rationality and rules of human life, the need for order and law and prudishness, to simply feel, and enjoy, and be. Also, wolves are a territorial, social species, more at ease in their own home than in the vast world outside, and surrounded by the people they love and trust than on their own; which is also why most of your people prefer experiencing the shift at home, beyond the natural need for safety and secrecy, and and surrounded by family and friends.

This has never been truer for anyone than for you, who have spent every single plenilune of your life in your fortress, the place were you were born and have always lived, with your mother by your side and your loved ones surrounding you; those elements are as inextricably part of the ritual as the shifting itself, so much you couldn't imagine it without them... which in turn means that finding yourself in wolf form, alone and in a place you don't know, is completely unexpected, as well as scary. In theory, you should be able to make sense of that state of affairs; even in wolf form you are not a mindless creature, unable to reason and remember your life as a bipedal being, and you had hoped that, once shifted, you would remember that the storm had forbidden you from returning home in time for the ritual, and that you were in your lover's home, away from yours but safe and taken care of.

You don't. Perhaps because it is your first time, or simply because the anxiety and fear of the last hours made it easier for the wolf's instincts to take over, thinking rationally and interpreting the new, unexpected situation around you has never been so hard, and after a minute of confusion, the wolf decides she doesn't like not knowing where she is, and what has happened to the rest of her pack - at all.

A moment later, she realizes she is not alone.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Dracule Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Mihawk #Mihawk x reader #Steven John Ward #Bellona's stuff

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deaf-solitude · 6 months

Text

Bloodsucker Pt. 1 (Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader)

This takes place post-season one, pre-season 2. Enjoy! :]

Pairing: Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drug abuse, blood, dead body, death, the usual vampire stuff, comfort

Summary: You were never one to believe in myths. Despite the superstitions your crew mates constantly followed or avoided, it never rubbed off on you. You simply couldn’t believe things like mermaids or fairies existed, you had no tangible proof of them aside from kid's tales and supposed sightings reported by others. There was always an explanation: sea mammals, large bugs, coincidences, you name it. You especially didn’t believe in vampires. Humans-turned-monsters that needed to drink blood to survive? The very notion seemed impossible to you.

That is until you just so happened to come face to face with one within the very walls of The Revenge.

...

Drip.

You were roused from your short after-raid nap by drops of cold water landing on your face, the first sounds that invaded your senses being the bone-shaking rumble of distant thunder and the soft patter of rain against the hull. Shit, you thought the ship would be in the clear of that storm. You took a deep breath of stale air before you willed your eyes to open, only to be met with stifling darkness. It took a moment of adjustment before you could see anything in the room, and even then, you could just barely make out the outlines of crates and miscellaneous supplies. Another drop of water landed on your head.

You sighed and pushed yourself off of the crate you had previously been napping on, your back popping loudly as you stretched out all the kinks. You wished you didn’t have to take cat naps stuffed into leaky storage closets and on top of uncomfortable surfaces, but alas, Blackbeard didn’t allow for rest during the day. At least, not where he could see you. That’s why you quietly crept up to the closet door, slowly pressing it open to peek out for any witnesses. When you didn’t see anyone, you quickly slipped out of the cramped space, closing the door behind you before meandering down the hallway like nothing had happened. You didn’t know how long you were in there, but it must have been at least an hour for the storm to get so close to the ship before you woke up.

As if on cue, another crack of thunder rang out in the distance, and this time you could see the delayed flash of lightning as you passed an open porthole. It was getting colder on the ship as well, the wind blowing in and stealing all of the warm air away. Seemed like a perfect hang-out night, if you were being honest with yourself: get your buddies together, huddle up in a room by the candlelight and play cards well into the night. Or at least, that’s what you would do once Blackbeard was passed out from the booze or the rhino horn he was always consuming. It was sad, really, but none of you dared to try and tell him to stop. Especially with Stede gone…

You shook your head to try and clear your thoughts, rubbing at your tired eyes. As much as you missed how this ship was previously, dwelling on the past or on what you couldn’t change never bode well for you. You were better off focusing on what you could do with your minimal options. And for you? That was keeping your friends out of harm's way the best you could. At the end of the day, you only had each other on this God-forsaken ship.

Speaking of, you wondered where everyone was at right now. Izzy was no doubt lingering around Blackbeard–the poor fucker, Jim was probably off sharpening their knives, Fang was most likely having a nap much like you were, and Frenchie… You never really knew what Frenchie was up to nowadays. Blackbeard had done away with his lute long ago, despite both of your protests, and he had just finished up with the embroidery on his jacket, so he didn’t have many personal projects to work on. Now that you thought about it, most of the time he would hang around you, doing whatever you were doing. So where was he now?

There weren’t many places he could be the more you thought about it. You didn’t think he would be anywhere near the captain’s quarters, or above deck in this weather, so maybe his room? But you had already passed it and hadn’t seen any signs of life coming from there. Aside from the kitchen, you couldn’t think of anywhere else he could be at this time of day, so that’s where you were headed next.

You could’ve sworn Frenchie just disappeared sometimes. You’d see him scurry off below deck at various points during the day, then you’d follow him a minute later and there’d be no sign of him or where he went. Whenever you’d spot him later, he’d always make some excuse that he was right in that room, you just didn’t see him! You never bought it, but you couldn’t be bothered to push the subject any further. Besides, you knew he’d tell you if it mattered.

When you got to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed when there was, once again, no sign of Frenchie. You really were destined to spend the rest of the day asleep in that supply closet, huh? You lingered for a moment longer before turning to leave, but something caught your eye as you did. One of the small benches that lined the back of the room was slightly off-center, pulled out a few inches from the wall. You furrowed your brows, making your way over to it. Who the fuck was moving furniture around? As you went to push it back into place, you noticed a small gap in the wall that had some kind of light shining from deeper in.

You hesitated, your curiosity wanting to pull the bench back further, but your self-preservation wanting you to leave it the fuck alone and mind your own business. After hardly a moment’s consideration, you did end up pulling the bench back, as quietly as you could. It turned out the gap was an entire secret passage, but you couldn’t say you were surprised to see one when Stede’s hidden wardrobe existed. He did say there were multiple passages around the ship, didn’t he? But who was using this one?

The thought that it might have been used as one of Blackbeard’s stashes briefly crossed your mind, causing you to creep down into it with as much stealth as you could muster. You just had to know what was down here. The moment you spotted any sign that it was Blackbeard’s, you would just… creep back out. Yep, perfect plan.

Even with the faint glow of, what you deduced was candlelight, it was still incredibly dark. You were careful to avoid tumbling down the stairs with slow steps, but it just made the anticipation unbearable.

You were halfway down the stairs when the small space was suddenly lit up by a close strike of lightning, and the thunder that immediately followed was almost deafening. It startled you so bad that you jumped, your foot falling a little too heavily on the next step. You heard someone gasp from the darkness in front of you, and your eyes shot up to find them. The small candle set on the floor hardly produced enough light for you to make out their figure, but another bolt of lightning did.

Your blood ran cold when you saw a flash of the scene in front of you: Frenchie was crouched down on the floor, hovering over the lifeless body of one of the vagabonds the crew had slaughtered earlier that day. His canine teeth–fangs–were embedded in the poor lad’s neck, and his eyes were wide with surprise; it didn’t seem like he was expecting you to stumble upon his little nook.

The light left the room as quickly as it came, but you both stayed perfectly still, staring wide-eyed at each other in the dark until he broke the silence and mumbled against the body’s neck: “It’s not what it looks like.”

Control of your body came flooding back to you with the sound of his voice, and without a second thought, you whipped around and stumbled back up the stairs, taking off out of the kitchen. Frenchie, startled by your sudden movement, scrambled to get to his feet and let the body thump loudly back onto the floor before sprinting after you.

“Hey! Hey, wait a second!” Frenchie called out to you in a loud whisper, but you ignored him, traversing the halls of the ship at an alarming speed while repeatedly cursing under your breath. Frenchie could feel panic swelling in his chest as you got closer and closer to stairs that led up to the top deck, slamming into walls and knocking over loose knick-knacks while turning corners as opposed to your quick and calculated movements.

You were almost there now; you could practically taste the salty sea air as you approached the staircase, but you were tackled before you could even get a foot up onto a step. Frenchie had somehow caught up to you and was quick to slap a hand over your mouth and drag you into a nearby closet before anyone saw or heard you. You thrashed against his hold, shouting muffled profanities into his hand as he closed the door behind the two of you. This was it, huh? You were going to die at the hands of a vampire after being such a strong nonbeliever in everything supernatural. You had really hoped you wouldn’t find out this way, but alas, maybe it was payback for all those times you didn’t leave food out for the fairies.

Despite Frenchie’s fiendish background, he was struggling to keep you immobile, wrapping his arms around you and trying to hold you close to his chest. “Hey, hey! Chill out! I’m not gonna hurt you!” He hissed quietly as you struggled against him, not fully grasping the absolute terror that was flooding your brain at that moment. Sure, he was your friend, a close friend even; one that you trusted with your life after everything you’d been through together. But watching him suck the blood out of a dead body was a lot, even for you.

You had finally gotten a good elbow into his stomach, winding him and causing his grip on you to loosen. You were quick to break his hold completely and spin around on your heel, drawing your dagger with impeccable speed and holding it against his throat while you shoved him hard against the wooden wall of the closet. Frenchie’s demeanour changed almost instantly when he felt the cool steel lightly press into his neck, his breathing hitching as he threw his hands up in surrender. His eyes flickered between the dagger and your face, nervous despite the fact that only a stake through the heart would truly harm him.

“What. The. Fuck,” you growled quietly, breathing heavily as you attempted to catch your breath. Frenchie’s throat bobbed as he nervously swallowed, his gaze momentarily dropping to your neck before hesitantly meeting your hardened stare again. He could practically hear your heart still racing in your chest, the sound of your blood pumping ringing in his ears. Without realizing it, a certain image had begun to form in his mind-

“Helloo? You still there, Frenchie?” Your hoarse voice interrupted his train of thought, making him jump slightly in your grasp. He hadn’t noticed himself spacing out, awkwardly clearing his throat after he realized.

“Ah-uh, yeah! Yeah, I’m here,” he squeaked, his voice cracking slightly as he pushed his aforementioned thoughts to the back of his mind. You raised a brow at him as you watched his fidgety body language, finding it harder and harder to view Frenchie as a monster–a vampire–and not the goofball you had known for months now. If it wasn’t for the blood dripping down his chin and neck, you would’ve thought that what you just saw in that hidden room was a hallucination.

Now that you had his attention again, though, you found yourself struggling with what to address first. The stashed body, how long he’d been hiding this, if he had any ill intent for you and the rest of the crew… your mouth open and closed a few times before you finally managed to string together a sentence: “Does anyone else know about this?”

Frenchie vigorously shook his head. “God, no! Could you imagine if any of the others found out? If Blackbeard found out?” He frantically whispered, already panicking just from the thought. You winced at his reaction, pulling your dagger back slightly from your previous attempt at intimidating him while patting his arm in some semblance of comfort.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you reassured, “I’m just surprised you hid it so well for this long. Even when… Stede was captaning us?” You questioned, your voice instinctively lowering when you mentioned the former captain. Frenchie nodded in confirmation, his eyes still blown wide despite your best efforts to calm him down. You hummed in contemplation, almost letting the thought pass before you suddenly realized something: “Wait, how did you feed when Stede captained us? We hadn’t killed anyone until almost three weeks in.”

Frenchie’s frown dropped even further, his face whitening as he looked down at the floor with a pouty bottom lip and a guilty expression. After a beat of silence, he opened his mouth to respond, but you put a finger up to shush him instead. “Actually, never mind, I don’t want to know,” you objected, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Wait,” Frenchie cut in, his brain finally catching up to the current situation, “so, you’re not gonna kill me? Or rat me out?”

You sighed, fully letting go of him and crossing your arms. You couldn’t lie, you had become quite fond of Frenchie over the time you’d known him, and it would be a shame if you lost what little good company you had left.

“Not unless you give me a reason to,” you affirmed, still slightly on edge that you had been hanging around a literal vampire for the past few months. Well, now that you thought about it, you had always noticed Frenchie’s canines were unusually sharp…

“Oh, thank the Lord above!” He exclaimed with a heavy exhale, his posture relaxing as he put a hand over his heart. “You’re a fuckin’ saint.”

Your face screwed up at his exclamation. “I wouldn’t say a saint, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” you retorted, “just don’t go around sucking everyone’s blood and you’ll be fine.” You reached behind Frenchie to open the closet door, wanting nothing more than to get out of that stuffy room and regain your bearings, when frantic shouting suddenly rang out from further in the ship:

“Guys! Guys! Someone’s been sucking the blood out of this body!” Fang. Fuck, he must have wandered into the kitchen. You glanced over to Frenchie to see that he was once again in panic mode, frozen in place and breathing hard. You debated just opening the door and bluffing your way through the whole situation before you remembered that Frenchie still had the body’s blood all over his face. You cursed under your breath, turning on your heel to dig through the crates of the cramped closet. A few sets of hurried footsteps approached and passed your hiding spot, muffled voices joining them further into the ship.

You could hear Frenchie starting to hyperventilate behind you as you searched for something to clean him off with, spurring you to look faster. “Oh God, oh God,” he started to mumble, which was never a good sign when it came to any of your crewmates, “they’re gonna find me. They-they’re gonna find me a-and drive a stake through my heart, or-or throw me overboard for the sharks to pick at-” His rambling gradually got louder and louder, to the point where you had to whip around and slap a hand over his mouth to prevent him from giving the two of you away.

“They won’t find you if you would just shut up,” you growl, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of the blood from his face sticking to your hand. He nodded, albeit nervously, and you slowly removed your now blood-covered palm from his face. Without giving him time to start up again, you brought an old rag you had found up to his face, beginning to haphazardly wipe away the blood. Frenchie flinched in discomfort from the rough material, his face scrunching up as he tried to avoid your touch, but you simply held his head still with the other hand and continued.

When he started to sputter and spit after the fabric had gone over his lips, you rolled your eyes. “Will you quit it? I’m trying to help you here.”

Frenchie gave you a half-assed glare, still squirming and trying to move his head. “It’s fuckin’ scratchy,” he hissed, and although desperate to get the rag off of his face, his hands stayed firmly put at his sides.

“You know what’ll be worse than scratchy? Getting publicly executed by Blackbeard when he finds out you’re a fuckin’ vampire!” You snarled as quietly as you could with how agitated you were getting, effectively shutting Frenchie up as you got the last bits of blood off of his face. Well, you got them off the best you could. If you looked closely, you could still see areas where it had stained his skin and beard, but that would take water and a good soap to get out; soap that you didn’t have right now.

“There,” you wiped your hands off with the bloodied rag and threw it somewhere over your shoulder, “as long as no one looks at your face too closely, you should be fine.” You commented, though it did little to calm Frenchie’s nerves as he started fidgeting with his hands again. You could hear the voices of the crew getting louder now, more distressed, and you knew you couldn’t hide in the closet any longer if either of you wanted to avoid suspicion. You reached for the door again, but not before giving Frenchie one last look. “Don’t say anything stupid.”

Approaching the kitchen felt like an arduous task, each dragging step only making your heart sink further. You couldn’t help but continuously glance back at Frenchie, who had an equally, if not more nervous aura about him. You steeled your expression as the rest of the crew came into view, crowding into the room to get a glimpse at what Fang was screaming about.

You should’ve left the stupid bench alone. It was just how you had left it, pulled out almost completely from the wall where the hidden passage was. The only difference was that the dead body was now sprawled across the floor of the kitchen for all to see, rather than stashed away in the passage. The two-holed bite mark on its neck was now painfully obvious in the lit kitchen, and the sickeningly pale skin of the man looked unnatural for a dead body that was only a few hours old. You could hardly see it while trying to peek over the shoulders of your fellow crewmates without drawing attention to the two of you, especially since you showed up last. But no matter which way you tried to paint this situation, things were not looking well for anyone right now.

“This has gotta be a fuckin’ joke,” you could hear Blackbeard snarl from the front of the crowd, giving the body an aggressive kick. You could see Frenchie flinch from the sound out of the corner of your eye, instinctively leaning closer to him to try and soothe his nerves. “Whichever one of you sick fucks did this, you better fess up now, or I’ll put you through fuckin’ hell when I find you.” Blackbeard bellowed, pointing a half-empty bottle of rum at the crew in front of him. Frenchie opened his mouth, but you were quick to hit his arm and shut him up, thanking God that you were both at the back of the room and blocked by at least a dozen other pirates.

When the only response Blackbeard got was silence, he huffed with a cynical smile. “Okay, we want to play that game then?” He sneered before drawing his gun, drunkenly pointing it at various crew members. “I’ll shoot every last one of you dimwits if I have to.”

It wasn’t long before Izzy stepped in, putting himself between Blackbeard and the crew as he spoke to the captain in hushed alarm. You took the distraction to gingerly place your hand on Frenchie’s arm in a comforting manner, not daring to look up at his face as you stared at Blackbeard, watching for any sudden movements.

Some words were shared between Blackbeard and Izzy before the captain stormed out of the room, mumbling something about him needing another drink. In the absence of his presence, the crew is silent for a moment longer before breaking out into hushed chatter, shaken up not only by Blackbeard but the fact there was a vampire aboard the ship. You could already see suspicious glares and glances being thrown out between crew members.

You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, rubbing Frenchie’s arm subconsciously before stealing a glance up at his face. To say he was absolutely terrified would be an understatement; his face was paler than you’d ever seen it, and he had already started to worry a dent into his bottom lip. You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by a few familiar figures approaching the two of you.

“Where have you two been?” Jim barked at the two of you, Fang, Ivan and Archie in tow. You tensed up, your brain immediately scrambling for an excuse. Not for you, of course; you had a solid alibi. But you knew Frenchie was never good at coming up with excuses on the spot, especially when he was guilty of whatever he was being questioned about.

“I… we were napping. In the closet,” you half lied, covering for Frenchie on his behalf.

Jim raised a brow, crossing their arms as they did so. “Together?”

Frenchie finally jumped to life at the question, snapping back to reality. “Huh? No! No, I was, umm, lookout. Yeah,” he interjected, not sounding very sure of himself. He was also sweating bullets, which only hindered their attempt at bluffing.

Fang noticed Frenchie’s nervousness, but in true Fang fashion, completely misinterpreted it as he approached the anxious man. “Oh, it’s okay, Frenchie! We won’t let the vampire get to ya!” He went to wrap an arm around Frenchie, but he very quickly ducked out of the way, leaning closer to you.

“N-no, that’s not-“

“What, do you think one of us is the vampire?” Ivan questioned, the offence clear in his tone. Frenchie could only violently shake his head before Jim marched closer to him.

“Well, none of us are vampires, right?” They aggressively gestured at the rest of the little group, doing their best to comfort Frenchie, in their own way. The rest of your buddies nodded along, but Frenchie’s expression only fell further at the exclamation. When Jim turned back towards him, Frenchie leaned his head away again. You squinted at him, trying to figure out why he was acting more peculiar than usual, and that’s when you realized: he took you literally when you said as long as no one saw his face closely he’d be fine. You bit your tongue in an attempt to keep yourself from screaming, exhaling heavily.

“What’s up with him?” A voice suddenly sounded from your left, and you nearly jumped five feet in the air in surprise. You whipped around to find Archie leaning over to you, peering at Frenchie with a puzzled expression. You paused, reeling for another excuse as your eyes darted between Archie and Frenchie, who was currently being crowded around by Jim, Ivan, and Fang.

“Oh, uhh, he’s probably just really paranoid,” you blurted out, crossing your arms over your chest to try and comfort yourself at this point, “he’s uh, extremely superstitious.” You had to stop yourself from sighing in relief when Archie nodded along to your explanation, seeming to believe you.

“Alright!” Izzy’s hoarse voice startled you again, along with a few other unsuspecting people. “In the event of… this,” he grimaced, gesturing vaguely to the body that still lay on the floor, “we’re gonna have some rules going forward.

“First and foremost, every body and mark must be accounted for after a raid. If one’s missing, we look for it until we find it. We’re having everyone pair up for raids in case this fiend gets cheeky,” he pauses, surveying the room, “and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that if you see this… “vampire”, capture or kill it on sight.” You found yourself shuddering at his words, already kicking yourself for getting directly caught up in this mess. It was going to be an absolute pain in the ass to keep Frenchie hidden with the crew on edge like this, and on one hand, you were glad you could help him keep it under wraps. On the other hand? Getting caught meant death, likely for both of you.

Everyone stared at Izzy for a moment longer, the older man having gone silent. He suddenly snarled, waving his hands in front of him like he was shooing off vermin. “Well, get on with it then, you twats! Fuckin’ dismissed, Jesus!”

You jumped at the first opportunity of freedom from the cramped room, hardly being able to breathe with how anxious you were. You beelined for Frenchie, who had his back to you, set on getting him out of there as soon as you could. Jim had already stormed off, muttering about how the whole situation was stupid, with a concerned-looking Archie and Ivan following close behind. Fang looked like he was unsure about leaving Frenchie, who was unmoving where he stood, but he was just as eager to leave the room as you were. With a quick nod to him, he gave Frenchie’s arm one last pat before quickly exiting the room.

You were quick to put your hand on the small of Frenchie’s back as you approached him, trying to gently guide him out of the room. “Frenchie,” you urged quietly, still not being able to get a good look at his face. He swayed for a moment before lethargically turning to face you, his feet shuffling clumsily along the hardwood flooring of the kitchen. You couldn’t help the frown that appeared on your face when you finally made eye contact with him; he looked horrified.

“Can we go?” His voice was hardly above a whisper, cracking like he was on the verge of tears. You nodded quickly, pressing him forward and looping your arm behind his back instead, your hand resting on his waist.

“‘Course,” you croaked, trying to keep yourself from glancing back at Izzy as you exited the room. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from catching a glimpse of the lifeless body still lying on the floor, feeling a pit of guilt forming in your gut.

The walk back to Frenchie’s room was tense, neither of you daring to speak a single word of the elephant in the room for fear of being overheard. The silence was deafening, suffocating, even. You wanted to comfort him, tell him he’d be alright, but every word died on your tongue before you were even able to open your mouth. Would he be alright? Would you be able to uphold that unspoken promise, or would you be lying through your teeth? The answer to that question was becoming more and more uncertain as you walked further from the kitchen.

Before you had reached his room, Frenchie mumbled your name, eliciting a hum in response from you. It took him a second to gather himself before he continued: “I’m… I’m worried,” he stated warily, unable to meet your gaze and once again fidgeting with his hands. The first rumble of thunder in what felt like hours could be heard in the distance, making him jump.

You sighed and patted him on the back, pulling him slightly closer to your side as you neared that familiar hallway. “You’ll be fine, man. I’ll make sure of it.”

End (for now ;P).

37 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Note

since matt dad was a hit. one with the reader and matt married and both are working at paperwork at the BAU, until their child comes in that she is being bullied. prompt 27, 70, and 99. it would be cool if the child is friends with Michael

The Dance

Matt Simmons x Reader

Prompts 27,70 & 99: “who do I need to hurt?” “why do you look like you just ran here?” “oh good you’re here”

Warnings: crying, teasing

Category: fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Author’s Note: The daughter is 7-8 just for reference. I hope you like it love!

----

Today was just a paperwork day and you and Matt had just returned from lunch. You rarely ever get to just go for a drive and get lunch, you do when you’re on a case but it’s different when you’re not in a rush.

“You really think rhinos should be able to fly?” you laughed at Matt’s thought. “Yes, I do. Think about how cute they would look” he said to you as the two of you stepped off the elevator. The clicking of Penelope's heels filling your ears as she quickly walked over to you guys, “Oh good you’re here” she grabbed each of your hands and pulled you back towards her office. You and Matt looked at each other and walked with her anyways.

“Penelope, what’s going on?” you asked her.

“And why do you look like you just ran here?” Matt chuckled.

She turned to you guys, stopping in her tracks. You were concerned now, it wasn't unusual for Penelope to drag you off to her office or somewhere else but she was never this cryptic. “Okay before you go in there, I must warn you. Your sweet little angel is in there crying her eyes out” Matt’s smile dropped from his face. “What the hell happened ?” he asked her, she began telling you guys how JJ picked up your daughter and Micheal, bringing them here for the afternoon. Your daughter told JJ that she’s going to hang out with Penelope and when she got there, she started crying and hasn’t stopped.

“I tried everything you guys, sweets, cute baby animals, movies. I even called Morgan to see if he could come in and cheer her up but she said she didn’t want to see him.. like who doesn’t want to see that hunk of chocolate thunder? But anyway, she asked for you guys and by you guys I mean Matt. She kept asking when you’d get here” she let out a breath, Matt didn't wait to hear the rest before walking into Penelope’s office.

“Sweetie ?” he called out for her, she spun her chair around to see her father standing in the doorway. “Dad?” she sniffled as he walked over to her, he crouched down in front of her, letting her fall into his arms. She was barely on the chair and Matt had his arms around her. You smiled at the two of them, she had always been a daddy’s girl. She fell off the chair afterwards and onto his lap, the two of them sat on the floor while they were hugging.

“Okay baby, tell me what’s going on. Your auntie Penelope said you were crying.” he said quietly to her. You knew she’d open up and tell him, she had always turned to him for help. Matt glanced over at you and Penelope as a way of telling you to step out which you did.

----

40 minutes had passed, and you and Penelope were sitting at the table in the bullpen drinking coffee. Your leg bounced under the table nervously, she rested her hand gently on your knee “I’m sure she’s okay” you gave her a small smile. Matt and your daughter walked in, she gave you a big smile as she ran off to find Micheal. You stood up “who do I need to hurt?” you asked your husband who laughed at your question. “Relax baby, I handled it” he sat beside you. Penelope excused herself to go talk to Emily.

“What happened ? Is she okay?” you were concerned, she was never one to just start crying like that. “Yeah, she’s been having some problems with a kid at school” he told you, “Is it wrong to want to beat up the kid’s mom? Because I know it’s wrong to beat up a kid, but is the mom off limits?” you took a sip of your coffee, Matt shook his head. “Y/n, you can’t do that” he laughed.

“This is my fault though” he sighed, you rested your hand on his.

“What do you mean babe?” you asked

“Last weekend was the father daughter dance and we were away on a case. She didn’t tell me because she said she didn’t want to go. When she heard the girls in her class talking about it, it bothered her which is understandable. She let it go until one of the kids kept pushing her and teasing her cause her parents aren't around as much as the other kids’ parents. Baby, I feel horrible. I should be here to take her” he sighed, he looked like he was about to cry. “Baby it’s not your fault, you didn’t know. Kids are mean. She's strong, she’ll be alright” you hugged him.

----

You had the weekend off, you were going to make it up to them for missing the father daughter dance. Penelope and Luke had come over to help you decorate Rossi’s backyard. He offered to let you use his backyard but only if you saved a dance for him, which of course you did. He was like your dad too, it was only fitting.

Matt had gone to get a haircut and he took your daughter with him, you sent him a text telling him that Rossi was having a last minute dinner and that you came over to help him. You also told him for them to wear something nice and be there for 6.

You and Penelope did the last touches right as Matt and your daughter walked into the backyard. “Surprise!” the two of you shouted at them, Matt and your daughter laughed. “Oh my god, babe you shouldn't have” The two of them gave you a hug, you smiled and hugged them back. “I had some help” you nodded towards Penelope, Luke and Rossi.

The backyard was covered in fairy lights, there were little pink flowers hanging from the trees and dance floor in the middle of the yard. Luke and Rossi had built a little makeshift DJ booth for the night and luged his record player outside even though Penelope had brought all her equipment.

“Alright, let’s get this night started!” Luke shouted from the makeshift DJ booth, he was standing there looking pretty because Penelope was obviously the genius behind it all. Penny put on a slow song as her and Luke stepped out of the booth to dance. Matt and your daughter were swaying along to the beat of the song while Rossi held your hand and brought you over to the dance floor.

The 3 pairs of you danced until your feet gave out on you. Penelope and Luke had just said goodnight and headed out to their car. Rossi had switched on his record player a little after Penelope and Luke left. Your daughter was having her last dance of the night with her grandpa Dave.

Matt’s arm was over your shoulder, your fingers interlocking. “I can’t believe you did all this” you smiled at him “I had to make it up to her, she deserved it” he nodded. “I told her to let me know, I'll be there even if I have to miss work. She’s so much more important than any case could ever” he smiled as he watched her dance with Dave. She had grown up so quickly but she was still your baby.

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