#the left duck looks like a very responsible duck

[summerfrwrks]

Have a duck! It’s been a sucky day but the duck is here to help

i legit just got homeee and my parents' temper acted up again on me so thank you, i shall cherish them and give them our bread hajshjasgjaa

[shares bread with you so you can snack on them or feed it to the ducks too]

#the left duck looks like a very responsible duck #and the right looks like a stern one #i shall call them sir quackson and winston #summer askbox #thank you pampoozlers!!

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

funniest disney history facts i can think of atm

literally EVERYBODY thought the lion king was gonna flop and pocahontas would be their greatest movie ever made. people begged to ditch lion king and work on pocahontas.

the reason robin hood ends so abruptly is that there was an actual ending planned and storyboarded but the crew spent too long arguing about everyone’s fursonas to finish animating it

madam mim was way less comedic in the original book but because her character was too similar to maleficent (who was in their latest film at the time), the sword and the stone crew decided to differentiate her by making her fucking hilarious

when making a goofy movie, jeffrey katzenberg (studio chairman at the time) told bill farmer to give goofy “a normal voice.” farmer, who had been voicing goofy for eight years at that point, including in the goof troop show that a goofy movie was a sequel to, was very confused. after making an attempt they decided to scrap that note completely.

as of march 2023, farmer is still voicing goofy, and tony anselmo has been voicing donald since 1986. the 2017 reboot of ducktales, which was slated as “wanting to do for donald what goofy movie did for goofy,” featured both actors as those characters; they had also been doing the voices for the original ducktales and goof troop/goofy movie. all the times goofy and donald interact in the 2017 ducktales however, donald was voiced by guest star don cheadle as a joke

current voice of mickey mouse bret iwan has stated that he has attempted to play kingdom hearts and did not do well

disneyland’s current world of color halloween overlay features a plot that is basically “the disney villains simultaneously adopt a goth kid” and i love it

people will make jokes about “well math says that the beast would’ve been 11 when he was cursed” well that was actually the original intent, but a flashback scene of baby beast was scrapped because he looked “too much like eddie munster”

when disney sent a representative to pixar to check on toy story production, she was like “this is all great! what style of music are you thinking” and they were like “for what” “for the songs” “we uh. we weren’t gonna have. any songs” and she went dead silent and then went “i have to make a call” and left the room

saludos amigos and the three caballeros were made as ww2 propaganda. the government commissioned disney to make movies to make latin america like them so that they wouldnt side with the nazis and provide them an in to invade, and latin america really liked donald duck so

saludos amigos was apparently the first time many usamericans realized that latin american people were like. people. film historian alfred charles richard jr said that the film “did more to cement a community of interest between peoples of the americas in a few months than the state department had in fifty years”

while latin america generally liked both films, chilean cartoonist rené rios boettiger fucking hated the chilean segment of saludos amigos, seeing the main character of pedro the plane as a weakass bitch, so in response he created condorito, the most popular comic character in all of latin america

disney wanted to adapt ts eliot’s old possum’s book of practical cats. his widow adamantly refused, and then sold the rights to andrew lloyd webber bc he wanted to make it sexy and she said “tom would’ve liked that”

in case you haven’t seen the defunctland, walt disney wanted epcot to be a futuristic utopia where he was basically the dictator. then he died so they just made it another theme park

speaking of defunctland the first defunctland video was on disneyworld’s alien attraction and please watch it. please it’s so funny

after the huge failure of the black cauldron disney was going to shut down its animation department. the department tried to convince them to keep them alive by showing them the one scene they had finished for the next movie– the mouse burlesque from the great mouse detective. it worked

the only attraction the black cauldron ever got was in tokyo disneyland where they put a tour under cinderella’s castle where everyone had to escape the disney villains trying to kill them, only to end at the horned king and the cauldron, who would try to sacrifice them to satan. this tour was popular but was closed in the early 2000s as the tunnels didn’t fit earthquake regulations and i want it in disneyworld so bad

walt disney once referred to his unionizing workers, led by goofy’s creator art babbitt, as “commie sons of bitches,” and i want a mickey build-a-bear that calls me a commie son-of-a-bitch whenever i squeeze its paw

#disney #disney history #mine

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back (2)

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes

Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in. 

It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that. 

Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy. 

He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler. 

Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-

He doesn’t have a crush. 

Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”

Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination. 

It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise. 

It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble. 

You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him. 

His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds. 

You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not. 

(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)

For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile. 

For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you. 

It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore. 

You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin. 

If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep. 

He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest. 

You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it. 

You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out. 

He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept. 

This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.

Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #kat’s writing #ghost x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley #cod ghost

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.”

It had become a call and response of sorts, a mantra that Eddie seemed to live by, if not only for you. Usually his words were followed up by a kiss, something sweet pressed to your cheek. Or he’d pull you into him by your belt loops, hands a little rough but his intentions always soft, his face dropping to the crook of your neck so he could nuzzle his nose there, like he didn’t really know how else he could possibly give you all the love he had for you.

So when your car inevitably gave up, the clutch grinding and the gears sticking, Eddie didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even ask, always feeling bad for expecting but it didn’t come to a surprise when he took your keys from you and dropped a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a little off kilter from the early morning sleep that still clung to him.

“Eddie,” you began, as usual. Soft and shy and guilt ridden. “You don’t have to. I know you’re busy right now.”

“Never too busy for my girl,” he responded, wincing a little as he dug out his chocolate pop-tart from the still too hot toaster. He’d learnt the hard way not to use a knife anymore. He tore off a piece of pastry, a sprinkle on his cheek, ruby red. “Besides, what do I tell you, huh? I know I don’t have to - I want to, sweetheart.”

He grinned when you scrunched your nose, embarrassment and too much love clinging to you, Eddie’s adoration too obvious when he leaned down to where you sat with your coffee. He let you brush away the sprinkle, grumbling about how he was saving it for later but his protests died off on his lips when you stole them for a kiss, your hands on his stubbly cheeks.

The boy was pink when you pulled back, pleased looking and much more awake. Then, Eddie winked as he spun your keys around own finger, the rest of his breakfast bitten between his teeth as he left for work, always a flurry bed mussed curls and silver chains.

When he didn’t arrive home by five, you knew exactly why. It wasn’t too long a walk to the garage, but you knew he’d scold you all the same. That’s why you had a Tupperware box full of pasta in your hands, a foil wrapped cookie on top, still warm from when you’d pulled it from the oven.

Sure enough, when you arrived at the almost empty garage, your boyfriend was the only one left working. You passed Wayne as you ducked under the half closed shutter, sharing the same fond look of faux annoyance that you pretended to both have for the younger Munson and you promised the man there was more pasta for him at home.

Eddie didn’t see you approach, too busy with half of his body under the hood of your car, poking and prodding it with tools you didn’t know the name of. You made sure to make enough noise before you rested a hand on the small of his back, fingers skating over the bare strip of skin left exposed between his shirt and jeans.

His smile was too much when he appeared from the car, always happy to see you. And like you thought he would, despite his grin and the way his eyes lit up, he grumbled:

“What’re you doin walkin’ half way across town on your own, huh?”

You rolled your eyes even if you didn’t mean it, your expression still fond and you pushed his dinner to his chest. He accepted the food with a happy hum, peeking into the container to eye it appreciatively.

“It’s a twenty minute walk, handsome,” you replied. “And it’s very much still light out.” You smiled at his worry because the evening behind you was barely beginning, the summer sun still high enough in the sky to keep the sidewalks golden, the warmth lingering.

Eddie grumbled again, no real heat behind it as he leaned in for a kiss, careful not to put his dirty hands on you. “Still. You’re too pretty to walkin’ around alone.” Another kiss, this one softer, longer. “Thanks for dinner, sweetheart.”

You beamed, happy to have helped. “Least I can do since you’re fixing my car.” You frowned at the vehicle like it had offended you. “How’s it looking?”

“She’ll live,” Eddie sighed dramatically, giving the roof a pat. “If you remember to change her oil, that is.”

Your cheeks burned.

“But I’ve sorted the clutch, so that shouldn’t stick anymore and there’s a part needed for the gearbox, but I’ve got that on order,” the boy bit into his cookie, desperate for sugar. He moaned, a sinful noise that was meant for both you and the chocolate. “Hopefully it’ll be here tomorrow so I’ll do one more late night, get this hunka’ junk back on the road for you in no time.”

You knew it was a fruitless effort to ask Eddie to let you pay in anyway. Hell, Wayne would shut you down just as hard. Eddie didn’t want you paying for any of his hourly rates, overtime or not. And as he’d told you before, costs for parts could get lost sometimes, receipts slipping down the backs of desks, never to be seen again.

So you smiled at him instead, soft and sweet and warm like the summer. You didn’t mind the oil stains on his shirt as you leaned in, hands against his torso, feeling the faint lines of muscles and soft skin there.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his lips, stretching up on your toes to bump your nose against his. A kiss, tasting like chocolate chips, lingering and lazy. “I love you.”

Eddie went shy like he’d never heard you say the words before. Maybe you didn’t say them enough, maybe you needed to remind him hourly, especially if it got him looking at you like that, eyes all wide and soft and awe filled.

He pecked your lips, your cheek, your jaw, nose pushing at the space under your ear as he told you the same. “I love you too, pretty.”

You didn’t need to hear it back, as nice as the words sounded on his lips. Eddie showed you how much he loved you every single day.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson blurb #Eddie Munson imagine #UDWSLOVELANGUAGES

[stsgluver]

“i like this one,” you pointed to a particular design in one of the portfolio books you’d stolen from geto’s desk. it was a dahlia – black and white with wisps spinning around the flower. it was delicate and soft, and very much unlike the usual tattoos your boyfriend usually created.

the boyfriend in question peered over at you laying across his tattoo chair that you’d adjusted so the back was resting horizontally. he looked unfairly attractive – hair tied back in a messy bun and the glasses he only ever wore when no one else was in the room tipped to the edge of his nose. 

“want me to do it for you?” geto nodded his head towards the portfolio in your hands, a small smirk present. to say you weren’t a fan of needles was an understatement and, in the six months you’d been together and the two years you’d been friends, he was yet to convince you to let him do one for you.

“no,” you scrunched up your nose at him, ignoring his light chuckle at your quick response. 

“yeah no one wants your shit ass.” you spun your head around to see fushiguro toji sliding open the door to geto’s work space. out of all the people geto worked with, toji by far ranked in last place for his distasteful personality. his lips curled up into a twisted grin, scar lifting as his eyes drifted over your figure and you wished you were hiding behind your boyfriend and not sprawled out along the chair. “i’ll do it for you darling, even add some extra benef–”

“fuck off fushiguro,” geto said forcefully. you’d been coming to the tattoo shop long before you and geto had started dating and the older man had always been this way, but he’d ramped it up tenfold once you’d officially gotten together. 

toji rested back against geto’s door frame, his cocky attitude fueled by geto’s clear annoyance. “gojo just wanted me to tell you that you haven’t responded to an email yet.” he gave a wink in your direction before he ducked back out of the room. you gagged in response, slipping off of the chair to shut the door he’d left wide open.

“asshole,” geto muttered under his breath, leaning back and pulling his hair out of its loose bun as he so often did when he was stressed. “how much longer are you going to be here?” 

geto loved having you down at his work, loved being around you as he sketched as he considered you his muse. however, toji had his own special way of tainting every situation he was ever in and digging his nails right under your boyfriend’s skin in a way no one else could.

there was a small pout on your lips as you made your way over to geto, to your boyfriend who was usually always so level-headed no matter what was happening. “hey, don’t punish me for him putting you in a bad mood."

holding onto the back of his chair, you spun it slightly so that he was facing you. he didn’t resist your movements and his legs naturally spread enough so that you could shuffle between them, your arms loosely swung over his shoulders. beneath the collar of his top you could see the ends of several tattoos that decorated his tanned skin. 

“i’m not,” he closed his eyes, leaning into you to press a light kiss to your forearm. “i just prefer for my girlfriend not to be sexualised by that thing.” 

you pushed the strands of hair that obscured his face from your vision behind his ears, “i think i know what will make you feel better.”

“letting me tattoo my name on your forehead?” geto grinned up at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning down to kiss him. knocking your nose against his, you feel the cool metal of his nose ring against your skin. a nose ring he could definitely convince you to get, though it would be from shoko and definitely not him. you had seen what had happened to gojo’s ear when the two of them had gotten drunk and thought piercing each other with a sewing needle would be a genius idea.

“buying me something from the vending machine?” you countered, giggling at the drop of his smile. the vending machine had been gojo’s idea of bringing in more money for the business and he’d somehow managed to convince yaga he was right. so far, the only person who ever seemed to use that thing was you (with geto’s money). 

“i hate gojo for buying that thing,” geto sighed, dramatically making a thing of grabbing his wallet from his drawer. he pinched your hip lightly and nodded his head towards the door, “after you, princess.”

#𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 #tattoo artist!geto #geto x you #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto #suguru #geto fluff #geto drabbles #geto imagines #geto fic

[quintinh43]

Simple Truths Pt. 1 | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinns got some feelings, and so does y/n.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, depictions of anxiety, food, sickeningly fluffy domesticity. Use of the name Olivia.

Wc: 7.2k

Notes at the end!!

---

Quinn was the only other person who had a key to your apartment—given to him to use in case of emergency only. So when the front door burst open at 10 pm on a Tuesday, and Quinn barged in, suit askew and hair a mess, looking very frazzled, you dropped your bowl of ice cream and paused your movie as you approached him hurriedly.

"Y/n," he breaths, doubling over and panting with his hands resting on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. Your hands hovered around his face, unsure of what was wrong. Decidedly, you sit him down on the couch and hand him a bottle of water. Kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees.

He chugs the water like a man left out in the desert sun. "Quinn, what's wrong? Are you alright?" You question carefully as he caps the water bottle. "Did you run here?"

He nods, leaning forward, head in his hands, sighing. He looks down at you, cheeks flushed. Your apartment buildings aren't far from each other, but for him to run for three straight kilometres and practically break down your apartment door, something must be terribly wrong.

A knot of despair coils in your stomach. "Is it your family? The team? Gotta tell me what's wrong so I can help you Quinny."

"I just wanted to come over," he mumbles.

It takes a moment for his words to process, and then you are throwing his half-full water bottle at his head. He ducks, professional athlete reflexes apparent. You stand up, pushing his chest so he flops backward on your couch.

"Are you joking right now?" You say incredulously, arms crossed over your chest like a displeased coach, "You did not bust down my apartment door at 10 pm on a school night, acting like someone died cause you just wanted to come over."

"Ok I wasn't that dramatic," Quinn says, loosening his tie and dropping it on your floor.

You glare at him, as you reclaim your spot on the couch, pulling the blanket over your bare legs. "You ran here."

"Well, i-" Quinn's mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response.

"Close your mouth, Quinn, you'll catch flies" you snap, grabbing your bowl of ice cream from the coffee table.

"Ok, maybe I was being dramatic," he says with a sheepish smile.

"What happened to cell phones? Are we in the Stone Age? No text? No call? Just break down my apartment door?" You ask raising an eyebrow at him.

Quinn's cheeks flush, as he suddenly realizes how absurd the situation he painted was. "I was just bored" he shrugs sheepishly.

You look at him like he has grown two extra heads. "Quinn, I cannot believe you interrupted my night, acting like it was an emergency, because you were bored"

He gives you another sheepish smile. "Get comfy or get out" you instruct poking him in the ribs with your foot.

"My clothes still in the same place?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your ankle. You nod, un-pausing the movie as he drops your foot and, grabs his tie off the floor on his way to your bedroom.

You hear him shuffling around your bedroom, presumably hanging up his suit and grabbing a change of clothes before he turns on the shower. Within ten minutes, he's joined you on the couch, freshly showered and in a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt with his own little bowl of ice cream.

He sits across from you, and you toss the blanket over his lap and tuck your feet under his thighs. You pause the movie again and stare him down with a look that demands an explanation. Because no way, he broke into your apartment and practically gave you a heart attack cause he was bored.

Quinn sighs, promptly forgetting that his hair is wet as he runs a hand through it. He makes a face at the uncomfortable feeling and wipes it dry against his shirt. You can't help but laugh at him.

"I don't know" he sighs "I just started to feel super overwhelmed, and everything felt like it was closing in on me, and I just needed to get out."

"How are you feeling now?" you ask stealing his ice cream since he's not eating it.

"Like I overreacted, because now I feel perfectly fine. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." His voice goes quiet at the end, and your heart pangs for him.

"No sweat Quinny, I'm glad you're feeling better." you hum, licking ice cream off the spoon. Quinn watches you intently, not for the reason you think as you hold out a spoon of ice cream for him. He leans in, closing his lips around the spoon, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

Your stomach somersaults and you quickly look away, pulling the spoon back. After nearly six years of friendship, two of which were spent yearning for Quinn to love you as more than a friend and the other four spent accepting that he would never see you as anything more, he still sometimes stole your breath and made your heart flip when he looked at you a certain way.

You had met the first time he came to Vancouver, scoping for apartments. You were nineteen, working part-time at a coffee shop not far from Rogers arena when a frazzled-looking Quinn and his parents walked in. They had ordered coffee and pastries, and while you were serving them, you couldn't help but hear Quinn's anxieties about how he would "never find a place to stay in time for the beginning of the season" and how he would end up sleeping out of a hotel.

Ellen had sighed, trying to reassure him for the millionth time that everything would be ok, while Jim had been in contact with the real estate agent.

As nineteen-year-old you placed a spinach quiche in front of Quinn, and you spoke up. Making a decision that would change your life for the better. Your roommate had recently moved out of the apartment, and you hadn't yet found a replacement.

Ellen's eyes lit up, and you wrote down your number for her. A month later, Quinn Hughes was your new roommate. The two of you quickly became good friends, and even though you only shared an apartment for a few months, your friendship only grew stronger with time.

The rest is history.

"I think... I'm missing Jack and Luke a lot these days." Quinn says with a sigh as he takes the bowl of ice cream from you. You cross your arms with a fake pout, and Quinn rolls his eyes, feeding you a spoon.

You don't say anything yet. He's not done talking, and you don't wanna scare him away by interrupting too soon, or saying the wrong thing before he's done talking.

"And I think, with this being the worst we've done all season, everything just feels like a jumbled foggy mess."

Quinn sighs for the millionth time. He places the empty bowl on the coffee table and wishes he could sink deeper into the couch. You yelp as he yanks your legs apart and crawls between them, laying his head on your chest. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to cuddle, but the manner in which he just did so has you turning red, you're glad he can't see your face right now.

One of your arms comes around his back, your fingers making patterns, while the other delves into his hair. "You can't make fun of me" he whispers.

"Never Quinny," you say resting your chin atop his head.

"I feel like I'm failing" he sighs, "I feel like I'm failing the team, and my brothers and my parents and you. And I just- it's hard. Its all so hard"

Your heart hurts for Quinn at his confession.

"Quinn you could never fail me. Or your parents or your brothers, or your team," you say softly, fingers scratching his scalp lightly. He hums, eyes fluttering closed. You can feel his eyelashes tickle your collarbones.

"I love you, your parents' love, and your brothers love you, and no matter what, we are here for you. Just because you are having a bad stint doesn't mean you are failing as a captain. You are a team. You win together, and you lose together, and it's not all on you."

Quinn sighs again, pulling away from you. He sits on his knees facing you, tongue darting against his lips in nervous habit. "But what if-"

"Hush, Quinny" you pull him back on top of you, wrapping him in the safe cocoon of your arms "There's no But what ifs. You are an amazing captain and brother and son and leader. Everyone in your life is so lucky to have you. You are doing so so brilliantly."

You lay in comfortable silence, stroking his hair softly. Holding him close and listened to his breathing. What you would give to keep him in the safety of your arms forever. To grind all his insecurities into dust, and show him what a brilliant human he is.

"Move in with me" he speaks so quietly, that you don't know if you heard him right. "It'll be just like old times."

"I'll think about it" you say softly. He breathes out a relieved sigh and plays the movie. The dull ache in your chest turns sharp. After four fucking years of getting over him, he comes to you with vulnerability stark in his baby blues, and that's all it takes to undo the last four years of work. Damn him. Damn it all.

The two of you fall asleep tangled on the couch, with the movie playing in the background. You wake with a crick in your neck and Quinn half underneath you, an arm around your waist holding you close to him. It isn't unusual, but after last night it fills you with such a feeling of uncertainty that it's borderline uncomfortable.

Your phone reads 5:00 am, and you huff, prying his arm off of you. He groans, arm tightening around your waist, so you can't escape his hold.

"Let me up Quinn," you say, tapping his cheek.

"Don' wanna," he grumbles, "so warm."

"I'll bite you," you warn.

"No, you won't," Quinn says against your hair, sounding slightly more awake. You smirk, turning your head and biting his Bicep.

"Ow! Y/n/n, what the hell!" He groans, shooting up into sitting position. His arm is still around you, and you bump your head against his with a laugh, "I warned you."

You get up from on top of him, grabbing the ice cream bowls from the coffee table and discarding them in the sink. "Get your ass up Quintin. We're going on a run."

"I don't have clothes" he tries as an excuse, flopping back down on the couch. You snort at the lamest excuse he has ever made. He has nearly everything at your apartment. It was basically as if he lived with you already.

Hell, there was even an extra pair of his skates in your coat closet. Honestly moving in wouldn't even be that hard. He'd probably just have to bring his hockey bag over. Except, he had the nicer apartment. So logically it would make more sense for you to move into his place.

"Nice try Quinn, get up and get changed or I'm coming back with a bucket of ice water," you say, going to your bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for your run. It takes you less than fifteen minutes to be fully dressed, and by the time you're done, Quinn is up and ready, tossing you a protein bar.

"I forgot my phone at home," he says sheepishly, taking a bite out of his own protein bar.

"You'll live," you say patting his chest as you pass him to put on your runners.

"I can't believe you want me to run without music, you heathen" he gasps offendedly, grabbing his pair of runners that he keeps at your house.

"We can share," you say, tossing him an air pod, a gift he had given you a while back. He catches it and tucks it into his ear without complaint. That is until you turn on the music.

"I'll never understand the music you run to" he grumbles, and you take the elevator down to the main floor.

"It's about the beat of the music" you sigh, probably for the millionth time. For all his complaining, he doesn't actually mind it. The elevator stops and the main floor, and you and Quinn both wave to the doorman as you head out.

As soon as you exit the building, you take off. Quinn is unprepared. "Hey! What- wait up!" He calls, taking off after you. You cackle as you run farther away from him. Albeit you only sprint away from him for less than a block, and then you are stopped by a red light. He is by your side before the light turns green and you grin at him, keeping your feet moving.

"Ready Freddy?" You grin, as the seconds count down before the light turn green.

"Yes, I am Sam," he responds with a dopey smile so blinding you feel your heart go faint.

The light turns green, and the two of you take off together this time. Although you technically have to run just a little faster, because Quinn's legs are longer. After two more stop lights, you cut into the park, and this is where the real view began. You run along the coastline, the fogginess of the morning clinging to the surface of the ocean. The mountains loom in the background, and you sigh. Vancouver's scenery couldn't be beat.

After 45 minutes and roughly seven-ish kilometres, you've both worked up a good sweat as you enter your apartment building. "What do you have today?" You ask Quinn, in between deep breaths as you being your heart rate back down.

"Practice at 8:00 and that's it for the day," he says, handing you back your air pod.

"I'll drive you back to yours, on my way to work?"

"Yeah that's good" he hums as you unlock your door.

"I'm gonna shower, and get dressed, do what you will," you say, toeing off your shoes and kicking them haphazardly into the closet. Quinn rolls his eyes as he straightens them out and puts his beside them.

You strip your sweaty clothes off and make sure your hair is out if the way, before hopping into the steamy shower. You're in there long enough to make sure you are clean, and then you're getting dressed. Brushing your hair into a neat bun, you pick out an easy outfit, that you know won't make you hate your life as the day drags on, and with that, you're back in the kitchen.

Quinn hums to himself as he flips eggs for breakfast. There's a glass waiting for you on the counter, with a pink straw sticking out of it. Quinn's own glass is sitting on the counter beside him half finished. He spots you coming out of your room and smiles, sliding the glass towards you. "Smoothie," he says.

"Oh, also, I didn't know what you wanted for lunch. You have some salmon and potatoes in the fridge, and some Thai chicken or I can make you something quick if you want?" He offers, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

There's a smiley face in your toast. The domesticity of it all makes your chest ache. He's in your kitchen, making you breakfast, and packing you lunch. "Oh!" His eyes light up as he slides onto the barstool beside you, "And I made your coffee" he points to your trusty travel mug that you never go to work without, that's filled to the brim with coffee.

"Thanks, Quinn" you mumble around your mouthful of eggs. The overwhelming feeling of if only this was real takes root in your chest, and you take a deep breath fighting off the urge to cry. It could be real, but not in the way you want it.

You eat your breakfast silently, completely forgetting that Quinn had asked you a question until he nudges your knee. "You're thinking loud," he says softly, "wanna get it off your mind?"

"Oh, it’s nothing" you smile, albeit unconvincingly, but Quinn doesn't push.

"So...Lunch?" He asks, taking both your empty plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Oh, actually I was thinking why don't you spin by for lunch? The kids haven't seen you in a while, and if practice is at 8 then you'll get off at the perfect time to come have lunch with me and spend the rest of your day pestering me at work?" You say, all trace of your anxious stupor gone.

Quinn lights up at the idea. "Yeah, of course, that sounds like fun."

Visiting you at work is one of his favourite things, especially when he gets to have lunch with you and hang around afterwards. And as an elementary school teacher, whenever Superstar Canuck Captain Quinn Hughes is in your classroom, it becomes the most popular room in the building. With students and staff.

"That still doesn't answer what you want for lunch," he says poking you with his foot.

"Surprise me" you shrug. You finish off your smoothie with a slurp and put it in the dishwasher before gathering your things.

Quinn is still doddling around your kitchen, "Alright, let's go, I don't wanna make you late for practice" you say slipping on your shoes.

"I'm coming, I'm coming" he slips on his shoes, and tucks a bag of snacks into your school bag, grinning at you knowingly. You roll your eyes at him, locking your apartment door behind you. The drive to his place is less than five minutes, and Quinn spends the whole drive criticizing your music.

By the time you stop in front of his building, you're ready to smite him. "Get out of my car Hughes or I'll throw you out." He sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes, unlocking it for him to get out. Sometimes you think the only reason your friendship has lasted so long is because you are good at dealing with children, and sometimes Quinn acts just like a child.

"See you later Y/n/n" he grins.

"Text me when you get in!" You say, before he shuts the door.

He salutes you with two fingers and jogs into his building. You wait until you receive a text from him before pulling out of the parking spot and heading to school.

The hours leading to lunch are excruciatingly long. The temptation to spill the surprise that Quinn is coming to visit today is nearly worth the excitement the kids will have. But you know the looks on their faces will be so much more worth it when he shows up unannounced.

As you mark assignments, and the kids silently read, your phone buzzes with a text from him. It's as if he can sense when you're thinking about him.

Q: I'm out front when you're ready.

You glance at the clock: two minutes until the bell rings, and then you're free.

You: Be out in 5

You stand up, addressing your class "Everyone can put their books away, and go get your jackets and outdoor shoes on, and as soon as the bell rings, you may go."

The scramble to the cubbies is immediate, as kids kick off their shoes and yank on their jackets. They line up at the door, bouncing on their toes. You pull on your own light jacket and wait at the front of your class with them, chatting to the talkative ones. The bell rings and they run from the classroom like it's on fire.

Rolling your eyes at their enthusiasm, you grab the sign that says "Ms. Y/l/n has left the building" so that your kids know to ask Mr. Farmer if they need anything from the classroom and lock the doors. You let the office know that you'll be gone for the duration of lunch and with that, you escape the building.

Quinn is waiting out front in his car. The one he drives when he wants to look less suspicious. You snort to yourself, as you open the door and slide into the passenger seat.

"What's funny?" Quinn asks immediately, raising an eyebrow at you as you do your seat belt.

"I was just thinking that it's funny you have two cars, one that you bought to drive specifically when you don't wanna be easily recognizable"

"Oh I'm sorry," Quinn teases, pulling out of his parking spot carefully "Have I offended the lady by not picking you up in my Porsche?"

Something about watching him drive makes your stomach flutter. The slope of his neck as he looks over his shoulder, the prominence of the veins in his hands as he grips the steering wheel. Your throat goes dry, and you look away quickly as the thoughts spiral darker, into thoughts you should not be having, about your best friend and his car. Especially not while sitting beside him, in said car.

"Earth to Y/n?" Quinn says, poking you in the cheek, you turn your head, instinctively biting his finger. He hisses and yanks it away. "You've been spacey since this morning, what's up?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "just thinking."

"Well don't think too hard, I wouldn't wanna strain your limited brain cells" he teases, flicking you on the forehead. You glare at him, crossing your arms like a child. His demeanour from last night has done a complete 180°. You know he feels bad for telling you all his feelings, but you also know that he'll bring it up again when he's ready.

There's silence between you two, accompanied by the base of a pop song that plays low through his speakers. It's uncomfortable. And that's scary because silence with Quinn isn't supposed to be uncomfortable. He's supposed to be the one constant in your life. Solid, sturdy and unchanging in the face of the unknown. And somehow, in the course of one night and weighty conversation, he has become the unknown. Why did he have to come into your life and unearth all these feelings?

His hand is reaching for yours, and he laces your fingers together, stopping the nervous twitch of your fingers, and your heart stutters even more.

"If it's about moving in with me, don't overthink it," he says with all the simplicity in the world "I'll understand if you don't wanna do it. I mean, we aren't nineteen anymore, you are your own person."

And before you really know you are saying,"I'll do it!" Comes spilling from your lips. Quinn looks at you, eyes hopefully like you've never seen before, and he squeezes your hand.

"You will?"

You nod, and he squeezes your hand again, the grin on his face so bright it could light up the darkest of nights. And at that moment, the only thing you know is that Quinn was derived from whatever Divine power there was because no smile should be able to chase away all premonitions of darkness like his does.

Lunch is burgers and fries, at some high-end restaurant that Quinn likes. You talk about everything, and nothing all at once, and once more comfort settles in your bones like an old friend.

"Did you tell the kids I'm coming?" Quinn asks, stealing a fry off your plate. You smack his hand with a glare and he simply steals another one.

"No, I was thinking you could pop out from behind my desk or something."

Quinn rolls his eyes with a smile. "Sure, that'll be fun" he'd be lying if he said the way you talked about the kids didn't stir something funny in his chest. "Is Olivia there today?" He asks casually.

Something not akin to jealousy sparks under your skin. Olivia Daunt. A teacher down the hall who enjoyed making underhanded comments about you to anyone who would listen. And Somehow she was always needing to borrow stuff from your room, whenever Quinn was around.

"Unfortunately" you grumble, pushing away your clean plate. Quinn finishes a second after you, and he's signalling the Waiter for the cheque. You slap your card on the table, and Quinn shoots you a look so disbelieving someone would think you just plucked a live fish out of the tank and ate it like candy.

He snatches your card off the table and shoves it in his pocket.

"Quinn," it sounds like you're scolding a child.

"Y/n," he parrots.

"Seriously, let me get it this time."

He snorts like you've made a particularly funny joke. "Not a chance, sweetheart"

"Quinn, please."

"Y/n, I was the one who took you out legally that means I have to pay."

"Legally?" You scoff as he puts his card on the table.

"Mhm," you steal his move, snatching his card off the table and sticking it in your pocket.

"Y/n" he warns, hand inching towards you across the table.

"I was the one who asked you to get lunch with me, so I think that means, legally, I have to pay. Now put my card on the table Quinn"

"Don't play with me, Y/n" he says, voice low, eyes demanding. A shiver runs down your spine, and the yearning that floods you is overwhelming. Oh, how you wish he was looking at you like that in a different scenario. Without a table separating you. Maybe with less clothing, too.

Your cheeks turn red as you realize that for the second time today, your thoughts towards Quinn have taken an unholy route. Unintelligible grumbles fall from your lips as you put his card on the table, hoping he stops looking at you like that right now.

The smile that lights his face is worth losing the battle. He doesn't give you back your card until he's paid, and the two of you are walking out of the restaurant side by side. You make it back to the school just before lunch is over, with just enough time to hide Quinn under your desk to surprise the kids.

As the kids settle in before the last bell rings, your eyes flick to Quinn, crouched under your desk. He looks up at you from where he's sitting between your legs under your desk. Hands braced on your knees.

The sight of him kneeling under your desk, has you thinking downright sinful things. You look away quickly. He squeezes your knee, and you stand up, unable to deal with the burn of his palm through your pants any longer without combusting.

"Alright, kids," you clap, "before we bring out our science books, I have a surprise for y'all." the room immediately explodes in excitement.

"Is it donuts?" One kid screams, sending the other kids into a frenzy.

You laugh as they scream their theories at you, and let them get it out of their system.

"Alright!" You yell over their voices with a smile, "drumroll, please," you say, walking to the light switch animatedly as the kids tap their hands on their desks rapidly. The plan was you would flip off the light dramatically, pretend your surprise hadn't worked when you turned the lights back on, get everyone to take out their science books and then Quinn would jump out before you started teaching.

You flick off the lights, and the drumming gets louder. Then the lights turn on, and the noise ceases abruptly while the kids look around.

"Oh man!" You sigh dramatically, "it didn't work," you pout, walking to the front of the class.

There's a mixture of sighs and groans as everyone gets out their science books. Your back is to the class, as you write the beginning of today's science lesson on the board. You crook your fingers at your side, signalling for Quinn to show himself.

He jumps out from under your desk with a "boo!" And chaos unfolds. You grin as the kids scream, some of them launching out of their chairs to attack Quinn with hugs. "MR. HUGHES!!" They yell as they crowd around him, jumping up and down.

The first time he'd come to the classroom, they were mostly starstruck and too nervous to talk to him very much. Now, whenever you brought him in, they had the biggest smiles and were armed with non-stop stories to bombard him with.

Quinn looks at you, mouthing, "Can I do it?"

You nod, and he grins as brightly as the Kids. He claps his hands three times. "One two three, eyes on me!"

The kids respond in kind, with two claps, saying, "One, two, eyes on you."

"Alright, everyone, listen to Ms. Y/l/n," he grins, hands on his hips.

The kids all turn to you for instruction. "Ok, everyone, please take your seat. Mr. Hughes will be here for the rest of the day, so you all will have plenty of time to bug him."

The kids take their seats happily, unwilling to lose their Mr. Hughes privileges. At that moment, Olivia chooses to appear at your classroom door, a scowl on her lips. "Some of us are trying to teach, so if you keep it down, that would be-"

She stops mid-sentence as she notices Quinn. Her voice turned sickly sweet. "Oh! Quinn! I didn't know you were dropping by today. How have you been?"

Quinn gives her a polite smile. "I'm alright," he says curtly. You can't help but smirk as Olivia's jaw clenches.

"Did you leave your class alone?" You ask, brows raised. She huffs as if remembering she has a job to do and all but storms out of your room without finishing what she came to say in the first place.

The remainder of the day goes by smoothly; your class is on extra good behaviour, because Quinn is there. As predicted, Olivia has all of a sudden forgotten all of her teaching supplies and, over the course of the next hour, comes into your room to borrow a white board marker, a stapler, post-it notes, a pen and a couple of other things you know she has.

Olivia also definitely opened her big mouth because a few other teachers dropped by under the guise of needing to borrow something or other lame excuses. They say hi to Quinn, like they didn't know he was there, and linger a little too long.

When the bell rings for third recess, you cherish your time alone with Quinn before all the teachers who don't have hall patrol have somehow found themselves in your classroom.

"Do you ever wear my jerseys to school?" Quinn asks, offering you slices of the tangerine he just peeled as he sits on your desk while you lesson plan.

"Usually if I'm coming to a game after, or if your games are on Fridays," you say, absent-mindedly opening your mouth for him to feed you. He pops the orange slice in, not even questioning it.

"Why Fridays?" He asks, placing another orange slice in your mouth.

"Cause Friday is the last day of the week, so it deserves some celebration."

Quinn's smile is shy. He doesn't understand why you would associate him with celebration, but warmth floods his chest, and he basks in it.

As if Olivia can sense that you are enjoying your peaceful moment with Quinn, she walks in, hips swishing and voice dripping with false sweetness. "Y/nnn," she whines, drawing out the last syllable of your name, "Hi Quinny," she giggles.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Quinn looks uncomfortable. "Ok, firstly, his name is not Quinny, so don't call him that." You say, crossing your arms over your chest, but before you can get to your second point, she cuts you off.

"Fiesty!" She mocks, and your cheeks burn. At that moment, three more teachers enter, and you sigh, knowing they are all here to ogle and flirt with Quinn. Unfortunately for them, you do not have the patience to deal with this right now.

"Alright, everyone out. I'm busy."

Olivia is the first to protest, "But I need-"

"Get out." You grind, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and hurried out with the other teachers close behind. Quinn sighs a breath of relief as the door shuts behind them. Sometimes, you forget that he isn't a people person, and the way he is around you is reserved for you and you only.

"Sorry," you mumble out, tucking your lesson plan into your binder.

"S' not your fault," he smiles

"Wanna help me set up for the last activity for today?" you ask, holding out a stack of papers in a sort of peace offering.

"Sure," Quinn smiles, taking the stack of papers. He places one on each desk, inspecting it as he goes, "What's this for?"

"It's part one of our compassion project," you say, pulling the example paper out of your binder. It was a piece of paper titled 'Who I admire' The assignment was for each student to pick someone they admired, and write down a little bit about what they mean to you and why they inspire you. Part two of the project would be to make a little photo collage of their inspirational person.

"Can I see your example?" Quinn asks curiously, joining you back at your desk; you hand it over to him, the tips of your ears going red with embarrassment. Your paper reads:

'Who I admire'

One of the people I admire most is Quinn Hughes. He is my best friend and the person I love to spend time with the most. I admire Quinn because he is a hard worker and a natural leader who cares about everyone before himself. Quinn inspires me because he is a kind and caring person who always tries his hardest and can get back up no matter how hard he falls.

"You...admire me?"

"Of course, I do," You answer softly, "I don't think there's anyone I admire more."

Quinn's breath is caught in his throat. The sentences are worded for elementary schoolers, yet the weight they hold is unmatched to him. Sometimes, simplicity meant the most. Just as Quinn is about to say more, the bell rings, signaling the end of recess.

While you wait at the door to greet your class as they file in, you don't notice that Quinn is scribbling furiously on one of the many extra sheets you printed for the inevitable mistakes and overthinkers. After the class is settled and you explain the assignment, they get to work.

A low buzz of chatter fills the room as the kids work, asking each other who they will write about. Quinn took your chair while you were explaining the assignment, so you sat on your desk in front of him.

"Here's another example sheet," He says, handing you the sheet he was working on. You glance over it quickly, your smile growing softer as you read what he wrote.

One of the people I admire most is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend and one of my favourite people. I admire her because she is kind and funny and always believes in me. She inspires me because knows what she wants, and she isn't afraid to put in work to get what she wants.

The irony of the last sentence is not lost on you. Years of wanting Quinn, and you never put in the work to get him. You buried your feelings in hopes that they would go away. The fear of losing Quinn all too prominent to risk the friendship over some silly little feelings.

"I love it," you smile, pinning it on the board next to yours so the kids have another example to look at. You and Quinn sit together at your desk, chatting about mundane things here and there while kids come up to ask questions. On more than one occasion, you got asked if they could use Quinn as their person, to which your answer was no because he was your example. Quinn laughed about it every time.

"What do you want for dinner?" Quinn asks, absent-mindedly scrolling through recipes on his phone.

"I've got leftovers in my fridge. I'll eat those."

Quinn looks at you, face scrunched in displeasure. "Don't be silly, we are having dinner together. What do you want? And don't say surprise me."

Well damn. He took the words right out of your mouth. You tap your fingers in thought. "Steak," you grin.

"Steak?"

"Steak." You nod. If there's one thing Quinn can cook absolutely magnificently, it's steak.

"OK, what should we do on the side?" He hums, presumably checking his grocery list.

"Let's do that spinach fruit salad and roasted potatoes and asparagus?"

"Sounds peachy. I'll stop and get groceries when we leave. My place or yours?"

Soon, you will be able to say Our place you sigh. Being with him, but not with him is eating you from the inside out. Six years of friendship be damned. Living like this was killing you.

"Mine," you glance at the clock, ready to get this day over with and get home. You stand up, putting in your teacher's voice, "Alright, class, we have fifteen minutes till home time. Five to clean, five to get ready, and the last five to talk to Mr. Hughes!"

The kids cheer, and you dismiss them to clean. Within ten minutes, everyone is sitting in a circle on the carpet around you and Quinn, asking him questions.

"Mr. Hughes?" A little girl named Meredith raises her hand.

"yeah?"

"When are you gonna Marry Ms. Y/l/n?"

Your face turns red faster than you thought possible. Quinn looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes, a dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. Before Quinn can answer, you cut in, "Oh honey, we're just best friends." You say softly. It's physically painful for the words to come out of your mouth, but unfortunately, it's the truth.

Quinn looks at you, eyes swimming with emotions you can't discern. The bell finally rings, signalling the day is over. Usually, you would hang around for another hour, preparing for the next day, but with the promise of Quinn making dinner, you want to get home as soon as possible.

After making sure there are no more stragglers, you practically drag Quinn out of the building before anyone can stop him from flirting. "I'll meet you back at your place in a little." He says, walking you to your car.

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit." You watch as he walks to his car and gets in before pulling out of the parking lot and heading home.

Less than an hour later, Quinn is opening your apartment door with a few grocery bags in hand. He places them on the counter, hands you the latte he brought you, and changes into a more comfortable set of clothes before starting dinner.

"Take a break and come give me a hand?" Quinn suggests, from where you've been marking and planning since you got home.

"I'm almost done," you grumble, wanting to finish so you don't have to think about work for the rest of the night. Quinn glances at the clock, "You're getting huffy," he says fondly.

"I'll be done in ten," you sigh.

"Alright," Quinn hums, "I'm physically removing your work from in front of you in ten minutes."

You glare at him, knowing he will make good on his threat and get back to work, doing only the stuff that needs to be done for tomorrow. As promised, you put everything away in ten minutes, and wash your hands to help Quinn in the kitchen.

"Where do you want me, Chef?" You ask, drying your hands on the kitchen towel.

"Salad," he grins, nodding his head towards the salad stuff on the counter. Grabbing a knife and a cutting board, you stand beside him and prep the stuff. Your hips bump and your arms brush as you work in the comfort of each other's space, chatting about whatever comes to mind.

And when dinner is ready, and Quinn pours the wine, your heart aches. The steak tastes like ash on your tongue, and you feel the tears welling behind your eyes.

"Y/n? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

You sigh out a deep breath, and six years of friendship be damned because you just can't do this anymore. Your fork clangs against your plate, and you look at Quinn with a gut-wrenching sadness in your eyes.

"I can't do this anymore," you say softly, eyes downcast. You can't look at him. You can't. Your heart would break, and you know it.

"Do what? What's wrong? I don't understand." his voice is desperate, pleading, worried. Then he's abandoning his plate and kneeling by your chair, a comforting hand on your knee. "Please," he whispers, squeezing your knee, "let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."

The outline of his palm burns against your leg. You stand quickly, the chair sliding backwards. Your head swims, and you don't know what to do next. You want to tell him he can't help because it's his damn fault. You want to say you can't do this. You want to scream.

"What can't you do Y/n? Let me in. Let me help." He says, standing, stepping into your space. For all the times it felt comforting to have him in your space now it feels like misery.

"Quinn," you sigh, "I can't do this," you motion between you at the dinner. "I can't do it anymore. I just can't. It's killing me from the inside out."

Quinn is in utter disbelief. He looks so so hurt. You can't believe you caused him to look like that. A bitter laugh bubbles in your throat because fuck. His voice sounds foreign and far away. "I- what? Did I do something wrong?"

You sigh, running a hand down your face. "You know," you start knowing you'll regret it, that this will be the end of your friendship. Six wonderful, glorious, beautiful years. The memories would be there, but the bitterness of an ended friendship would taint them.

"I have loved you for six years." It comes out quiet. So utterly quiet, like raising your voice any louder, will shatter both of you into a million irreparable pieces. Quinn stares. The silence is worse than anything he could've said. It's all-consuming, crawling under your skin with whispers of it over. It's done. You've lost him.

Something snaps, and you can't take it anymore. You run to the front door, slip on a pair of shoes and run down the hall, down the stairs and out of the building. Away from Quinn and his suffocating silence.

---

Hello hello my loves. I hope yall are doing good on this Saturday night. So, as you can tell, this is a very long one. A whopping 7.2 k words! I definitely didn't mean for it to get this long. And you know what's funny?? I cut soooo much out. Originally, this fic was supposed to be completely different lmao. Not sure what happened but here we are! I'm probably gonna make this an Au, cause the amount of stuff I thought up while I was writing Quinn x Elementary school teacher, is unhinged. Anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Love Soph.

Find Pt.2 Here

#qh43 #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hughes brothers #domesticity #angst #fluff #vancover canucks #captain quinn #loving you is as easy as abc 123

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warning: language, ooc, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Special thanks to @tonightwrites for helping me with this piece! Enjoy :)

All right, maybe he is moving a little bit fast in falling back in love again but…well, Lucifer will admit that he can’t help himself. That’s just who he is. He’s passionate by nature, and it shows in the super amazing ducks he has created and how he helps Charlie in rebuilding her hotel. Not to mention you were so cute!

Sure, you’re a little stoic and didn’t have a cellphone, and he did mistake for a human, but that was okay! He thought it was amazing that you were able to grow almost anything in the hotel’s greenhouse! He had to see it to believe it; wire racks of pots in different shapes and sizes, all those flowers and fruits. There were even herbs nearly bundled up and labeled on a wooden table. It was all very meticulously, and everything was well taken care of. He couldn’t find a single sign of neglect. And a single person was responsible for it all? Holy shit. 

Charlie did reassure him that you were very much dead and a sinner. Why you still looked like a human and had freaky skeletal prosthetics, she had absolutely no clue. 

But the cherry on the top was how respectful you were towards him. I mean, when was the last time someone saluted and referred to him as His Majesty? And that look on the Radio Demon’s face when she curtsied to him, the king of Hell? Priceless. 

He did appreciate your honesty, not even holding back when you said that you weren’t sure if a rubber ducky would look all right with the new fountain in the greenhouse. But you did anyway, carefully laying it on top of the water. You looked at for a long moment, expressionless and calm before turning to him and saying that his little creation gave the greenhouse…a more peaceful ambience. 

You thanked him for his contribution, and went right to work, dressed in an apron with a watering can in your gloved hands. At least until the little maid Niffty came in with a big frown on her face, scolding you for trying to skip meals again. You looked at him for help…but unfortunately, he couldn’t help this time, gently pushing out of the greenhouse while Niffty tugged you by the hand. 

You might say that you are used to not eating to accomplish your tasks, though that growling tummy disagrees~!

Whenever he had a moment, he made sure you took breaks and would spend time with you in the greenhouse so you wouldn’t be lonely. He’d tell you stories, share what else he created, and how he’s been wanting to connect with Charlie for so long…yet was so scared and unsure of what he could say to her. Especially after Lilith left Hell without saying a word seven years ago. 

“The important thing is that you are here with her now and support her endeavors, Your Highness. I…did not have a family when I was alive…but I had friends. Friends who supported and loved me, for all the flaws I possessed.” You looked down at your hand, clenching it slowly into a fist. “It was because of them…that I understood many things about myself…and emotions I did not know I had. Grief. Gratitude. Empathy. Guilt. I was on fire, and I did not know it. But I killed many people during the Great War. I was a weapon. That will never change. However,” You then looked at him. “If I am able to accept that I cannot change the past, and find the courage to move forward…how can a sinner not be able to find redemption even if they are dead? I believe…in Charlie. What she is doing. You do too. And I am sure…she is grateful that you finally understand her.”

 If he hadn’t already been in love with you, this would definitely be the moment when he realized how felt towards you. And Charlie, his sweet, smart little girl knew too. 

That was probably why she pulled him aside one afternoon to privately speak in her office. She was obviously….a little freaked out. But he waited until she finished inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, eyes closed, clenching and unclenching her fists, whatever helped her calm down. She then looked him straight in the eye.

“Look Dad, I’m…happy that you’re happy. I mean, it’s really, really obvious that you like [First Name]. Now there’s nothing wrong with that, I’m okay!” She added quickly, waving her hands up and down frantically. “It’s…it’s been a long time since you and Mom split up, and I know you haven’t even thought about anyone else until now. Look,” She took in another deep breath. “I know how…enthusiastic you can get, but as the hotel’s founder and [First Name]’s friend slash employer…tone it down. The flirting, the dad jokes, and….the romance. I know, I know you love romance! But try to be considerate of [First Name], okay? She’s finally learning how to be a human and I don’t want her to feel pressured or uncomfortable or not understand what you’re doing because you’re moving too fast! She’s really, really oblivious! She doesn’t even know Alastor likes her!”

Lucifer stared at Charlie. “Wait…ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SHE-SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW -”

“Dad, please!” 

“IS SHE REALLY THAT CLUELESS?!”

“Yes.” 

To his dismay, you were. You had absolutely no idea that the Radio Demon was besotted with you. He tried to help you around the greenhouse too, invite you to listen to his broadcasts or walks around the nicer parks in the Pride Ring, all the boring stuff an old timer would think count as trying to be romantic. Nope. Nope, nope, this is not happening. Not on his watch!

He will win you over and promise Charlie that he won’t overdo it when he courted you. But could he at least show you how to make a super cool rubber ducky in his workshop, or take you out for a flight with you in his arms? That’s not overdoing it, right? 

…

Maybe? Or should he take you out for some caramel apple pancakes? 

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader #fem!reader #lucifer #an idyllic novelist #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ²

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: as promised, zoro finally returned to you... after three years at sea. there's much left to be said, but a rogue butler just might get in the way.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: swearing, use of Y/N, canon typical violence, fluff with a hint of angst

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: everytime you leave

series masterlist

Nami’s little ship taking on water was the least ideal occurrence possible. Yet, deep inside, Zoro found it incredibly funny to watch the orange haired girl scramble around all frustrated like this. 

“Gecko Island,” said Nami, drawing Zoro out of his thoughts. She was hunched over her map with Luffy over her shoulder, per usual. “I think we’ll be able to make it before the ship sinks.”

Those words took longer to process than they should’ve, but Zoro couldn’t help it. Gecko Island? How long had it been, three years maybe? No longer than that, he was sure. His eyes went unfocused at the memory of a laugh that could easily end him and bring him back to life all at once.

“Swear it.”

“I, Roronoa Zoro, swear that we will sail again.”

Nami nodded to herself, saying, “Syrup Village is known for its ships. I say we dock there and ditch this junk.”

He couldn’t believe that luck. Zoro’s lips threatened to quirk into a grin before he got a hold of himself. He rested his hand on his swords and snuffed. “I’ve got a friend in Syrup Village who could help us.”

Nami took off her readers and rolled up her map. “You have friends?”

He shot her a tight smirk. “Just one.”

“And he can help us?” asked Luffy as he took to the ship’s helm. 

“She might.” Zoro checked on a knot here and a rope there. With his back to his temporary crew, he let out a small smile. “If she’s happy to see me.”

A surprised grin took Nami's face. “And if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” he assured, only half certain, if he was being honest.

It'd been three years since his promise, after all. Whatever happened next, Zoro could only be certain of one thing: oh, how he missed you.

જ⁀➴

Zoro was sweating, and it had nothing to do with the heat.

With every inch they grew closer to Syrup Village the swordsman swore he could hear your last words to him, a taunting sort of echo reflected by the sea. He’d always heard that water holds memories, and now it holds memories of you.

For better or worse, for reasons he just couldn’t fathom, you loved him. The very thought had his heart stuttering, his lips threatening to curve into a smile. Hopefully, time hadn’t changed your heart. It certainly hadn’t changed his.

He stood leaning on the mast, arms crossed to limit the fidget of his fingers. Unfortunately, this left him out in the open, a prime target for Nami’s incessant teasing. 

She slinked up beside him, curiosity already planted on her face. “So,” Nami drawled, not even trying to hide her shit-eating grin. “She?”

“Go. Away.” Zoro shifted away from her, tensing when Nami simply ducked forward, her short orange hair falling in her face.

She only laughed. “Oh, someone’s defensive.”

Zoro didn’t satisfy her with a response this time, yet she wasn’t thwarted, bumping his shoulder with a chuckle. “Relax. I’m sure your friend will be happy to see you.”

A beat of silence passed before he found himself offering up his worry. “I haven't written to her in a month.”

Nami scoffed. “Will she care when she sees you?” 

Probably not, was his first thought, but then again, what if you had changed? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you’d grown bitter? 

“Hey.” Nami snapped in his face. “Get out of your head, all right?”

He looked at her then, and he wondered why she cared. They weren’t friends, or at least, he didn’t think they were friends. But the way the two of them locked eyes and he nodded and then she nodded—he wondered if he even knew what friendship felt like after all this time.

It felt like you, of course, but you were something entirely different. Entirely more.

So he pushed off the mast and walked to the rail of the ship, sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, and got out of his own head.

જ⁀➴

You were terribly hungover, and Vee was having a ball over it.

Your every groan prompted just one more I told you so. Because she had, after all, told you so. You didn’t remember much from the night before, just that you were sad and the bartender liked you enough to forget about a cut off.

But feeling like shit never got you out of work before, and it certainly didn’t today. 

So you did your usual chores, albeit at a slower pace, crushing coriander and sorting it into jars at the corner table of Vee’s office. Vee herself stood behind one of the village’s elderly hypochondriacs, Miss Irma, who sat upon the examination table.

You and Vee had made quite the team over the years. While your knowledge solely pertained to the more natural medicines, Vee had gone to academy to become a real doctor, studying new technology and practices. Her fancy framed documents were testament to her achievements. 

She taught you nearly everything she knew, and you showed her a few tricks too, and as a result Syrup Village developed a phenomenal one stop cure all shop. Your various tinctures and potions came in handy nearly everyday—today especially as you downed a hangover tonic seconds after waking up.

You pursed your lips, grinding up the coriander as your temples panged with the consequences of your actions. Last night the alcohol had done wonders to make you stop thinking, but today was a different story.

“Next week’ll be three years,” you said to Vee, not caring as Irma perked up at the potential gossip. Ever since you had declared your love to a ship retreating from the docks, the locals had been dying to figure you out. You never let them, finding great amusement in being the town mystery.

Vee glanced up from taking Irma’s blood pressure, sensing an approaching vent. “So that’s why you’re so worked up?”

“That,” you confirmed, pouring the fine powder into an empty jar. “And he hasn’t written in a while.”

It was silly to worry about him. He could handle himself just fine. He was probably just busy. Yet, you had to admit, his letters were normally like clockwork. He had never missed a monthly letter, not once in three years. 

Vee suddenly stood beside you, taking your hands that you hadn’t realized were shaking. The older woman caught your eyes and offered a smile. “He’s a capable young man. He’ll be okay.”

You sighed, the sound quaking. “I know.”

She squeezed your hands and turned to remove the blood pressure cuff from a carefully listening Irma. “Take the supplies list from the counter and head to the market, yeah?”

“But—”

“Nope.” She was pushing you by your shoulders now, leaving a less than pleased Irma behind. Vee walked you through the hall, the kitchen, and right to the front door.

“Vee—Stop pushin’ me!” You planted two hands on either side of the doorframe, halting your exit. Puffing, you begrudgingly relented. “You never gave me the list.”

A triumphant smile adorned her face as she swept back to the kitchen and returned with your shopping list. You snatched it from her fist and left her with a feigned smile, not liking how she chuckled as the door clicked shut behind you. 

You huffed, fondly remarked “Bitch,” and headed down the cobblestone street with a brief glance down at the sheet of paper. Chamomile. Turmeric. Peppermint. Calendula.

You hummed. That last one might be hard to come by in the market, but surely one of the local merchants could find it for you. Turning the corner to head through the square, you caught sight of a familiar little man hurrying through the square. You swiftly pocketed your list and chased after him. “Joli! Hey, Joli!”

The mailman startled and whirled around, relaxing upon finding you rushing toward him. He didn’t bother with pleasantries; this had been going on for days, and the usual reply was on his lips before you could even get the question out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in an apologetic smile. “No letters have come for you… Maybe your friend has just forgotten?”

“No. It’s something else.” Why did everyone assume he’d forgotten? It wasn’t like him to forget. You worried your lip between your teeth. “He always writes. Every month, without fail. Something’s gotta be wrong.”

“You could always write to him first?” Joli offered.

“I would if I knew where the hell he is.” It wasn’t easy being penpals with the Demon Pirate Hunter, given he was never in one place for very long. 

But he hadn’t written in over a month. Surely, he couldn’t have forgotten you. He wouldn’t have forgotten you. Even with the sea dividing you, the pair of you were intertwined. Three years and no letter wasn’t going to change that.

“Sorry, Joli,” you said, realizing you’d zoned out. “Thanks anyway.”

He swept a brief bow and hurried off to continue his day, leaving you alone in the bustling town square.

Time had gone by very slowly, and although Syrup Village was charming, you couldn’t help but feel drowned by the mundanity of it all. Syrup Village, to put it simply, was boring. 

But mostly, Syrup Village just didn’t have Zoro.

He was off on the East Blue, God knows where exactly, and the worry was eating you away.

Shaking your head as if it could dispel your thoughts, you quickly shifted to hurry toward the market. It was a long line of stands and booths running up and down the eastern part of the city. Directly behind it was a fine view of the shipyard, with its impressive ships large and small. And then to the left of the yard was the port, busy with the weekly imports.

The evening started to waste away as you went from tent to tent, offering smiles and beri in exchange for ingredients. Only after you’d asked the local flower merchant to place an order for calendula did you turn to look at the sky. Perhaps it’d been long enough for Vee to let you back inside. You’d already gathered everything on her list, after all.

But first, maybe you’d bring home something sweet. Food always put Vee in a good mood.

“Thanks, Luc,” you said to the young baker, taking the cloth wrapped loaf of lemon bread from him. “Tell your mom I said hello.”

“Sure thing.” You waved him goodbye and walked into the crowds, pinching off a piece of bread and popping it in your mouth. The billowing sails of the ships caught your eye and drew you closer.

The port reminded you of Zoro. Well, to be fair, many things reminded you of Zoro. Even lemon bread made you think of his sour expressions if you let the taste linger too long. But there was something about the salty breeze and the cursing sailors that threw you back three years time. 

If you closed your eyes you could practically see it—you and Zoro stood at the railing of a shipping barge, one of his hands on his swords and the other caging you between the ship and him, only to protect you from the many suspicious sailors, of course. Not at all because he enjoyed the proximity. 

Someone bumped your shoulder and barked an insult, and you realized you’d literally closed your eyes. Oops.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and ducked your head, stuffing the lemon bread in your satchel. 

You stopped in the shade cast by one ship’s sail, well out of the way. How many pirates stood in your midst? It was a question you tried not to think about, but you wagered a fourth of the crowd, maybe, but no more than that. Usopp scared most of them away with his clockwork alarms.

Maybe you could find your friend before you headed back. Usopp’s stories were farfetched, but never dull in color.

You had taken a single step when the crowd of hurrying sailors and passengers grew thin, and your gaze was drawn like a magnet to a shock of green hair. You seized up, tense muscles locking you in place.

You blinked, forgot how to breathe, and blinked again. Certainly you had to be tricking yourself. Plenty of fools have green hair.

As you forced an inhale the figure came into focus, one of his hands rested on a white sword you would recognize in the thickest of fog.

You huffed, disbelieving. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be real. Parched lips parting, you noted that you hadn't had much to drink that day and the sun was rather hot… but you surely weren’t dehydrated enough to hallucinate. 

That wasn’t any green haired fool. That was your green haired fool, in the flesh, like an answer to a desperate prayer. He came back.

You might’ve stood there all day had Zoro not felt your stare like a hot brand on his cheek. 

His heart was already hammering in his chest, skin prickling with the need to just shout your name till someone told him where to find you. But… his shoulders tensed, not from the anxiety, but from wariness. His brow pinched and he gazed around to find whoever was watching him.

Bit by bit, his gaze roamed over sailors big and small, crates and barrels, until it settled on you amidst the passersby. 

He’d tried preparing for this moment. None of it was useful now as he met your eyes in an everlasting moment. How had he ever left?

Zoro’s hand slipped from his sword as he started toward you, each step far too long and slow for his liking. It felt like walking through water to get you, like there was sand in his shoes weighing him to the ground. 

Luckily, you were impatient.

You took off, feet pounding against the wood of the docks, shoulder checking at least five people and knocking one person to the ground. You were heaving even as a wide smile took your face. 

Zoro gasped the instant before you barreled into him, your arms flung around his neck as his own embraced you tightly. He stumbled and let out a glorious little laugh for only you to hear. The sound alone made three years of aching boil down to one desperate need to never let him go.

Pulling back, you found his eyes, and the little grin on his face was the very last straw. 

Like a starved woman, you surged forward and cupped the sides of his face to drag him down to meet your lips. Soft and timeless, you sought to engrave the feel of his lips on yours, and yours to his. So just in case he’d ever dreamed of kissing another woman, he never would again.

Your hungry affection only made his infatuation worse; for three long years, Zoro only ever dreamed of you.

Zoro broke the kiss, drawing back and watching as you followed him, dazed like you could hardly believe it. A strand of hair was stuck to your forehead, damp with sweat, and he absently swiped it away. All he wanted to do was admire you, holding you close and breathing you in. 

“Hi.” It was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his arms, a half smile flickering onto your face. You swallowed thickly, hardly believing this was real. “When you didn’t write, I…”

Zoro suddenly remembered who he’d come here with and hoped with everything in him they weren’t standing right behind him like they had been before. “I got caught up.”

“Too caught up to let me know you’re alive?” You could’ve been teasing, but he knew better. He saw it in how your eyes searched his face; he’d scared you.

His eyes went a special kind of soft only one person had ever seen in Roronoa Zoro, and he cupped your face gently. A grin tugged at his lips. “Like anyone could kill me.”

Your own lips twitched upwards as you leaned into his touch. Zoro wet his lips and glanced at the ground. His throat was suddenly dry as sand. “Uhm… I’m… uh…”

“Who’s your friend?” Nami. Voice filled with mirth, he could picture that shit eating smirk on her face before he ever turned around.

He reluctantly peeled away from you, clearing his throat and stepping to the side (He never strayed from your side, his hand finding solace in fidgeting with the frayed end of your shirt). Now came a moment he’d been dreading: the introductions.

You assessed the pair of people standing, and you didn’t know how to feel that they’d probably witnessed the entire display of affection, beginning to end. The entire shipyard did as well, a part of you reasoned, so you brushed it off.

It was a boy and girl, the former wearing a cool straw hat and the latter with even cooler hair the color of tangerines. The girl, who you assumed was the one who’d spoken, wore a thick grin, arms crossed as she leaned into her hip. The boy, however, was glancing between you and Zoro with a puzzled sort of smile.

Zoro’s fingers brushed your hip; he was radiating nerves. “Y/N, this is Luffy and Nami.”

Luffy had eyes so lively you had to offer up a smile, as though your body felt no choice but to mirror just a bit of his obvious enthusiasm. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said, and you felt he really meant it. Luffy tilted his head. “How do you know Zoro?”

“We… go back,” you said, casting Zoro a glance to find his usual deadpan back in place—God, how you’d missed that frown. 

A thought provoked you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been happier, but what the hell are you doin’ here? I thought you’d be—I dunno—on the edge of nowhere sharing a beer with a bagged corpse or something.”

You zeroed in on Nami then, immediately having her beauty carved into your memory. Something oddly possessive welled in your gut before you quickly shut it down. Still, you inched closer to Zoro.

“That’s what we’re here to see you about,” said Zoro, and something about it struck a worry in you. The way your eyes met his must’ve betrayed everything, for his hand moved to grasp your own, speaking a million silent little things.

Sensing a story, you guided them to the closest tavern, finding a nice spot in a low lit booth. Luffy rushed to slide into the booth, followed by Nami. Zoro reached the opposite side of the booth, but took a step back to let you slide in first. 

Pausing to blink up at him, he worried, “You still like sitting on the inside?”

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you nodded, wasting no time in jumping into the booth and tugging him to sit flush against your side. 

In grand detail and elaborate hand motions, Luffy explained their mission: they had a map of the Grand Line, and when they got there, they would find the One Piece, and Luffy would become King of the Pirates.

To say you were at a loss was the understatement of the century. Jaw slack, you looked from Zoro to Nami to Luffy to Zoro, then the whole cycle over again. Finally, you settled for shifting to face Zoro entirely, a slow smirk forming on your lips. “But… Pirates?”

Just some years ago you’d been helping this man put pirates behind bars, you’d taken part in a few murders as well, and now he was trying to tell you he was one of them? You couldn’t help it; you laughed, your hand moving to take his underneath the table. 

Zoro choked on nothing as your thumb ran circles on the back of his hand, but he composed himself enough to shrug. “Surprise.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Almost doe eyed, you gazed all over his sheepish expression, adoration plain on your face. “I bet you’re a shit pirate.”

Nami burst into a laughing fit, eyes alight. He tried to glare, but it failed immediately, everything in him softening the moment he caught your smile.

“He’s great,” Luffy disagreed, grinning back at you. “And he’ll be even better once he’s the world’s—”

“Greatest swordsman,” you finished. Your smile was fond and warm. “I know. You never actually said why you came to Syrup Village, by the way. Not that the tale of your victory over Boogie the Clown wasn’t thrilling.”

Luffy leaned forward. “We need a ship,” he told you. “One worthy of our crew. A home.”

“Well,” you said, “if you see one you like, I know someone who can help you buy it. He knows the Shipyard owner.”

If possible, Luffy’s smile grew. “I’ve got my eyes on one already. The one with the goat figurehead! That’s our ship.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. You knew the ship he spoke of, and it would be a pricey one, that’s for sure. Instead of lying to Luffy’s face, you chose to focus your attention back on Zoro, whose eyes had never left your face. 

“Come on.” You tapped Zoro’s thigh to urge him out of the booth, grinning at how he went pink in the ears as he slid out. “My friend’ll work something out.”

You took the lead out of the tavern and to the Shipyard, eyes scouring the sailors for your friend as Nami and Luffy fell behind, almost of one mind as they sidled up to their solemn companion, caging him between them. Zoro’s gaze remained glued to your back, not willing to cast them even a glance. 

Luffy bumped his shoulder. “I think your friend was pretty happy to see you after all.” The tease in his voice was evident.

Zoro somehow kept from snarling when he snapped back, “I said she would be.”

“Never,” Nami chuckled, “would I have ever guessed you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not…” Zoro watched you longingly—he watched the way you waved kindly to people as you passed, how your very essence gave life to your surroundings—and he sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami kept her voice low. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that how you greet all your friends?”

He didn’t answer, allowing their soft laughter to eat up his silence.

The truth of it was that this had gone better than Zoro had ever expected. His entire body still felt the burn of you against him, your lips on his—he stopped that thought where it stood, feeling that old flush creeping back up his neck. 

He had to talk to you—alone. He had to say so many things that he wasn’t exactly sure where to start. An apology. That’s where he’d go from. 

Unbeknownst to the whispers behind you, you were approaching the ship of Luffy’s affections, which you thought you remembered Usopp being on rotation for. 

You cupped your hands around your mouth and called out, “Usopp! Hey, Usopp!”

A moment later a grinning face popped up from behind the deck of the ship, sweat beaded on his brow as he threw his rag over his shoulder and leaned over to see her better. “Y/N!” He scanned the lot of them. “And company?”

The three following you finally caught up, the swordsman taking his place by your side. You shot him a little grin and tugged on his sleeve to draw him closer to you. “Usopp! I’ve got some friends wantin’ to talk to Kaya ‘bout a ship!”

Zoro turned his head toward you with his eyes still on Usopp as the boy scrambled down to meet them. “Kaya?”

“The friend of a friend. Hella rich and owns the Yard,” you muttered back. He nodded, not minding one bit when you linked your index finger with his. 

As he watched you as though you’d hung the very stars in the sky whilst you explained the situation to Usopp, he knew the second thing he’d say. He would work up the nerve to say what he couldn't three years ago.

જ⁀➴

The house—no, the mansion ahead was more extravagant than Zoro had seen in some time. He’d been close to your side the whole walk with Usopp, close enough so you could hear every one of his gripes about their guide’s questionable credibility. You giggled and bumped his shoulder every time, so he kept it up. 

“He’s… imaginative,” you defended, chewing your lip. “Relax. Kaya’ll let you buy the ship for sure. No thievery even necessary.”

He quirked a brow, amusement playing on his face. “How’d you…”

“Nami’s been swipin’ stuff off vendor carts.” You shrugged. “I figure stealing a ship is her first thought.”

Zoro couldn’t help but grin down at you, and when you met his eyes—oh, how deep his eyes were—you lost all sense of gravity. You nearly tripped over a rock before Zoro caught your arm and steadied you, chuckling at your expense. 

“Careful,” he teased, worsening the red in your cheeks. You stuck out your tongue in defense.

It was difficult for Zoro to stop looking at you, even as Kaya hobbled out of her home on the arm of her butler. If possible, you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. 

He tried not to be too miffed when you fled from his side to greet Kaya in a happy birthday embrace, especially when you offered Klahadore a curt nod and rushed back to hook your arm through his. Zoro glanced at you, then at the butler, and had the sense he’d seen the proper looking man before. He just couldn't place where from.

The turn of events was less than pleasing. Now, Zoro had to sit through a fancy dinner with too many people around, and probably not a chance to whisk you away from the prying eyes of his newfound crew. 

The dirty lot of you were ordered to clean up and only then shoved into Kaya’s expansive dressing room to find suitable clothes for dinner. Zoro walked into the dressing room in a soft black robe, feeling one hundred percent clean for the first time in a while. 

Instantly, his gaze gravitated to you examining the rows and rows of clothing, a number of dresses draped on your arm. Nami was moving quickly through the racks, every once in a while resting a dress she’d found on your shoulder and muttering something Zoro couldn’t catch. To both Zoro’s amusement and annoyance, you and Nami seemed to have hit it off instantly. 

He didn’t want to bother you, not when you looked to be having fun, so he took the first black thing he found and sat down on a chair near the corner. Zoro almost wanted to take a nap the second he sat down; even Kaya’s chairs felt expensive.

You dodged yet another dress from Nami, giggling, and caught sight of Zoro, appearing pleasantly surprised.

“Zoro!” Your smile was blinding. You swiftly passed a hand over the many clothes in your arms and grabbed what must’ve been your two favorites, dropping the rest in a lazy pile beside you. “I kinda feel bad not telling Vee where I am. She probably thinks I’m drunk in a barrel again.”

You disappeared behind a folding room divider, laughing under your breath. The two dresses were thrown to drape over the divider, and soon your clothes joined them. Zoro tried not to picture it too much, especially when he caught Nami staring at him with a mischievous grin. 

He ignored her and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion never too far away. Zoro remembered the doctor he’d left you with. She had seemed nice enough at the time, so it was good to know she hadn’t murdered you in the night, or something like that. “Vee’ll be fine.”

Nami headed for the door, her chosen dress in hand and a toothy grin on her face as she nodded exaggeratedly toward the divider you stood behind. Now, Zoro might have rolled his eyes, and he might have flipped her off, but only because he’d drink acid before telling Nami he was grateful.

“Ay, Nami?” you called. “Can you help me with this?”

He was grateful till just then, as his gaze locked on the divider and his heart picked up a considerable pace. Your shadow danced on the wall behind the divider, and Zoro forgot how to speak. All he could do was think many thoughts he’d put off for a very long time.

Three years had given him a lot of time to think—he thought a lot about you, and his regrets, and how he wished it were easier for him to just tear out his heart and stitch it to his sleeve. You certainly made it look easy.

But it wasn't, and Zoro couldn’t change that anytime soon. He wasn’t too worried about it, though. You had this uncanny way of knowing exactly what he was trying to say, even when he said it all wrong.

“Nami?”

“Nami’s gone,” he said, voice near cracking. He grimaced and stood from his chair. “Can I help?”

There wasn’t so much as a hesitation before you answered, “Mhmm. Come ‘ere.”

His feet moved before he ever told them to. Zoro still wasn’t entirely sure if he enjoyed this chokehold you had on him... but then he was rounding the divider warily, finding you standing with your back to him, squirming around as you tried to reach the zipper of your dress, and he took it back. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth and then some, probably.  

Lips twitching upward, he stepped up behind you, his hands ghosting your skin as if he wasn’t sure what to do. His eyes raked up your back, and he froze. A thin white scar ran across your skin.

You peered up into the mirror in front of you, simultaneously locking eyes with the green-haired man. He didn’t look like he was breathing, almost afraid to touch you, it seemed. “Zoro?”

He hummed distantly. You grew concerned at the cloudiness in his eyes, and then his fingers ghosted your skin, tracing a line you’d memorized and yet somehow forgotten. Oh. 

You spun around and sighed as he took a considerate step back. You tried to speak, but nothing came to mind. How could you have forgotten your scar? How could you have just let him see it? You frantically fumbled to pull the zipper up yourself, stammering, “Zoro, I, uhm…”

His jaw set all of a sudden, and he met your gaze head on. “I’m… sorry. That I left.”

You did not want to have that conversation. Not right now. You could save it for later, after the nice dinner, after you relished in ignoring the elephant standing in the corner. Because as much as you shoved it all down, Zoro had left you there, and it’d taken him three years to come back, as promised. 

But he came back, you reminded yourself. A little devil in your mind piped in, not for you though.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms over your chest. “I understand why.”

“But I regret it. Everyday.” Zoro raked a hand through his hair. “Everyday I wanted to come back.”

It looked like he’d been bottling all that up, and you wondered if the words had been on the tip of his tongue from the moment he laid eyes on you. “Why didn’t you?”

“I… I didn't know if…”

“If…”

Zoro looked anywhere but you, wetting his lips. If your life was better without me. “If you liked it here.”

You really, truly couldn’t help it; you laughed. You laughed and laughed till your sides ached and you teetered to the side before Zoro’s hands settled on your shoulders to steady you.  “Don’t laugh! I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Slowly, the smile slipped from your face as you reached for his hand and cupped it in both of yours. “Zoro, everyday for three years I waited for you, because you made me a promise… But I need to know… Would you have come back if it wasn’t convenient? I mean, did you really plan on it anytime soon?”

He tried to pull away and you nearly thought of letting him, before you laced your fingers with his and refused to let him go. Cold worry flooded your gut. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair—”

“It’s fair,” he cut you off. Zoro looked down at your interlocked hands. “I told you I’d come back. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Still, he hadn’t answered the question, and you needed to know. “So, would you have?”

Zoro didn’t answer right away, practically giving you heart palpitations as he took his sweet time. “I want you to be there, when I defeat him.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his face drawn close to yours, eyes hung. “Hawkeye Mihawk is harder to find than I thought. Time kept slipping by and… I don’t know. I got…” 

Scared, but he didn’t want to say that. Fortunately, you read between the lines, squeezing his hand. He sighed, eyes shut as his head drifted to rest against yours. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, raising your hand to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck. “I probably would have waited till then, to be perfectly honest.” Your cheeks warmed, gaze lowering. You raised a brow at the robe tied around him, breaking you out of the moment. “This what you’re wearin’ to dinner?”

There was a tease in your voice that had Zoro rolling his eyes as he slipped his hand back into yours and tugged you out from behind the divider. He dropped your hand only to pick up the suit jacket and hold it out to you for you to inspect. 

Brows still vaulted, you looked up through your lashes, smirking. “Hon’, you can’t just wear a jacket.”

He blinked, giving a bashful scoff. “I know that.”

He was too busy not being embarrassed to notice when you shook your head and skipped past him, planting a kiss on his cheek as you passed. 

“Hmm.” You skimmed through some of the clothes, finding a dress shirt that stood out to you. “Here. Try this.”

You took a hanger and held it up for him to see. Zoro wrinkled his nose. “It’s pink.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the shirt into his hands and moved to find some pants. “I like pink. You like me. Therefore, you like pink.”

Zoro doubted that logic, but you were practically an angel in disguise with the way you glided back over to him and handed over a pair of black dress pants. Your smile was a dangerous thing, because the more he looked at it the more you made a whole lot of sense. 

“Fine,” he murmured, disappearing behind the divider and emerging a few moments later, decked out in clothes nicer than he felt he deserved. 

You turned, about to say something when you laid eyes on him and faltered. Your eyes reflected a longing affection that had Zoro flustered in an instant, clearing his throat and cracking his neck in the silence. The fond grin on your face threatened to have him crumbling at your feet.

“Something on my face?”

A beautiful laugh bubbled from your chest, a happy warmth in your cheeks as you smoothed down the fabric of his jacket, resting your palms on his chest. The topmost buttons of the pink dress shirt were yet to be fastened, and you moved to finish it up all while that lovely smile graced your lips.

You were halfway done with the last button when Zoro’s hand cradled the back of your head, angling you to look at him again. Breath hitched, the words begged to be set free. Always on the tip of his tongue. “I…”

And for once, you were patient, more patient than he ever deserved. Zoro felt panic well up in his lungs, deep in his heart, and he abandoned the attempt altogether, surging forward to catch your lips against his. You had no complaints, sighing as your fingertips tickled the skin of his neck. 

“Guys!”

“No, Luffy, stop!”

The swift footfalls of Luffy followed his shout. You snapped away from Zoro, the both of you taking a swift step back. 

Your foot caught the pile of dresses you’d left, a yelp fleeing your lips as you fell flat on your back into the clothes. Zoro took one look at you and coughed, literally choking on a sudden laugh.

Luffy rushed into the room, stopping at the door. Nami stumbled after him with a glare and hissed, “Luffy!”

He cast her an odd look. “What?” Not paying Nami any more mind, Luffy grinned and said, “Come on, I can smell dinner.”

You let out a huff as Zoro grinned down at you, holding out a hand to pull you up. Hobbling on your feet, you patted Zoro’s arm and swept past him, approaching Nami with a smile.

“Oh, you look lovely,” you awed, admiring her fixed hair and light make up.

Nami raised her shoulders to meet her ears, saying, “I try.”

Following her down the hall, Zoro was left with Luffy, who said suddenly, “Why was she on the floor?”

Somehow refraining from rolling his eyes, Zoro simply left it at that, trudging after you and Nami.

જ⁀➴

Things had gone south very, very quickly. You hadn’t been so exhilarated in years. 

The dinner was exquisite, but that was where the good things ended. Your late night search for water was cut short by the sound of voices from the entry hall.

Rushing to the edge of the banister, you found Kaya’s housekeepers dragging Luffy outside and handed over to the marines, the butler standing there void of any expression. That, paired with the sudden disappearance of all your friends from their rooms, was starting to be a bit more than what you signed up for.

“Hey!” you shouted, voice bellowing down the foyer. You nearly face planted down the stairs with how frantically you ran down them. “Let ‘im go!”

Klahadore gave you one conniving glare and pushed his glasses back up his nose. The second your feet hit the floor, Sham, that mousy little maid, jumped you and had your hands twisted behind your back. No amount of struggling ever loosened her grip, and she’d kicked in the back of your knees before you could even think to swipe at her feet.

“Ah,” drawled the butler. You huffed, shaking, and met the man’s black eyes. “Another of these Strawhats, as you called them. Care to take another pirate off our hands?”

There stood two young looking boys, decked out in matching marine uniforms, but one had cropped pink hair and the other had a shock of horrendously cut blond hair. The blond stepped forth with a tight smile. “Gladly. Thank you for your assistance, sir. You’ve helped to make the seas safer.”

Two other marines came out to take you by your arms while you grunted out curses. You could only get one look over your shoulder as the mansion doors shut behind you, giving you a clear view of the dark smile curling up Klahadore’s face. You fought tirelessly. “Hey! Hey! I—I’m not a pirate! He’s lying! Let me—Luffy! What’s wrong with Luffy?!”

The boy with pink hair was in your face then, his expression much softer than the others. “Calm down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You hardly believed that, but the kindness emanated in the boy’s tone was just enough to ease your struggling. Still heaving, you cast a look over at Luffy, who was being dragged along ahead of you. His head lolled at his shoulders and his feet dragged along behind him. “What’s wrong with Luffy?”

“He’s only drunk,” said the blond, though he amended himself upon hearing a not so comforting sound come from Luffy’s gut. “Probably…” 

“He’s sick,” you cried. 

“Drunk,” the blond marine insisted, putting an end to the matter by turning on his heel.

You looked back at Kaya’s mansion, which grew smaller by the second, and panic welled in your chest. Something was very, very wrong. Why had the butler done that? Who was Klahadore really? What were the marines there for? Where was Zoro?

Luffy’s sudden hurling almost gave you a heart attack, momentarily causing the marines at your sides to lose focus as tons of blue gunk flew out of Luffy’s mouth… and onto the blond marine. You couldn’t help it—you laughed, almost delirious, throwing your head back and all. The pink haired marine cracked a smile while the other four marines grimaced.

Released out of the marines’ grasp, Luffy hit his knees and heaved onto the dirt, expelling the rest of whatever poison he’d gotten a hold of. His distress sobered you instantly, and with your captors distracted you rushed forth to kneel beside him. When the marines lunged to catch you, the pink haired marine, presumably the one in charge despite his small stature, ordered them, “Stop. She won’t run.”

This guy honestly gave you too much benefit of doubt, but still, he was right; you didn’t run. Instead, you rubbed calming circles on Luffy’s back as the kind marine kneeled beside you, looking concerned himself. 

At your glare, he murmured, “I’m Koby. I… I know him.”

You blinked. “Small world.”

“Yep.”

Luffy gave one last cough, and with another gasp he raised his head to stare dazedly from you to Koby. His eyes narrowed in confusion upon finding the boy there. “Koby? I… I gotta go back.” 

There wasn’t any room for argument in his tone, his gaze shifting to settle on you. “That butler… He’s gonna kill Kaya, and then he’s going after our crew.”

“No.” Breathing shaky, your jaw set. You made to jump to your feet and bolt back to the mansion when you remembered you were technically still a prisoner, your glare returning at full force. 

Koby looked to be at a terrible loss, saying, “I’m under direct orders to bring you in.”

“Kaya’s going to die,” you snapped at him, causing Koby to almost flinch. “You want her blood on your hands, marine?”

Much softer, much less angry, Luffy set a hand on Koby’s shoulder and said, “You said you wanted to help innocent people. Kaya’s innocent.”

For an everlasting moment, you thought maybe Koby was going to let you go. The consideration crossing his eyes was sign enough. And then it all went to complete shit.

The blond marine scoffed. “Know what?” He retrieved his pistol from its holster and loaded it in one motion, running your blood cold. “Screw this.”

Koby jumped to his feet. “Helmeppo, don’t!” he ordered, falling on deaf ears.

There was no shake in the marine’s hand as he stared down a solemn Luffy. “Father always said a dead pirate weighs the same as a live one.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, you rose to your feet and inched yourself a good distance away from Luffy. “Helmeppo?” you scoffed, a panicked tilt to your voice. “That’s one step away from being hippo, dude. Back up.”

Eyes aflame, Helmeppo blinked his attention away from Luffy to find you, just like you wanted. 

Koby almost shouted, “Garp gave us strict orders.”

Helmeppo’s glare remained zeroed in on you. “Concerning this one,” he said, jutting his chin at Luffy, “but you.” He shifted to aim at you, a sadistic grin marking his face. “Garp doesn’t want you.”

Your heels dug into the dirt, a slight ring in your ears. It’d been some time since you stared down a gun. Luffy jumped up and took a threatening step toward the marine. “Leave her alone.”

“I will,” Helmeppo barked. “If you start walking, pirate, or she dies.”

You swallowed thickly. Where the hell was Zoro? “Have you ever even fired one of those before, cadet?”

You were certain Helmeppo would have at least bashed you over the head with the butt of his gun for that, had the pained grunts and clank of metal not cut jaggedly through the air. The bodies of the other marines sunk to the ground, unmoving, and a shadow stepped out of the dark.

In the flicker of the pathway torches stood the Demon Pirate Hunter, looking absolutely pissed.

He took one look at Helmeppo, saw where his gun was pointed, and sneered. “Hey, haircut.”

You’d never seen someone drop their gun so fast, the weapon hitting Helmeppo’s thigh. All your bravery fled your body as your steeled back shoulders dropped, allowing yourself to feel every bit of fear now that Zoro was there. It would’ve been sad to die like that, you thought.

But a sense of comfort followed that fear. You weren’t going to die—there was Zoro, and Zoro would never let you die by the hands of some arrogant marine. He wouldn’t let you die, period.

The devil-eyed man approached, looking only at you and the relieved smile tugging at your lips. He stopped, landed a knockout punch to Helmeppo’s face, and barely shook out his fist like it was nothing.

Helmeppo’s head hadn’t so much as hit the ground before you were racing at Zoro, jumping over the unconscious soldier. You hooked your arms around Zoro’s neck in a tight hug. “You’re alive.”

“Have a little faith,” he muttered back, pulling away to offer a teasing smile. 

Luffy let out a victory cry and quickly dealt with Koby, ditching the panicked soldier on the road as the three of you ran back to Kaya’s mansion. 

The massive house came into focus, basked in the darkness of night. Luffy left to find Kaya as you pulled out your dagger, ready for a fight, only for Zoro to tap your shoulder gently. His bandana was tied securely around his head, his brows drawn taut, and it took you far too long to realize he was holding out that white hilted sword you’d polished and shined too many times to count times.

You stared at it for far too long as well, bringing Zoro to roll his eyes. “You’re not fighting with a knife. Take it.” At your raised brows, he grabbed your hand and forced his sword into your palm, giving you a meaningful look.

“You’re not out of practice, are you?” he asked, a tease in his voice as he headed for the mansion doors. 

Spinning the Wado Ichimonji around your hand, you shot him a grin. “Please. You think I went three years and never picked up a sword?” You tsked. “And let all your training go to waste?”

Huffing out a chuckle, Zoro shoved open the doors and warily went inside. You cast his sword a fond glance, shook out your shoulders, and followed suit. Despite your assurances, you were nervous. More nervous than when you were staring down Helmeppo’s pistol. 

Practicing swordsmanship on scarecrows was much different than actually fighting a warm body. Warm bodies fight back. 

Adjusting your grip on the hilt, you raised the blade and sweeped the area, locking eyes with Zoro a moment later. The foyer was empty. It was quiet. Zoro’s eyes widened upon something behind you, giving you just enough time to whip around and parry the strike of Sham.

The maid still wore her work attire, but now she held a silver shortsword in hand, black paint drawing the shape of a cat’s nose down her face. Buchi lunged out as well, catching his two swords against Zoro’s. 

You shoved off of Sham and scurried back to escape her unrelenting strikes. Dodging around a small table you spun to swing at her neck before she could change directions. She jerked away with a literal hiss, eyes flashing.

Sham scooped a broom off the ground and jumped high into the air, moving the broom and the sword in a cross as she landed a blow against the flat of your blade. With a grunt of exertion you ducked and swept under her arm, Sham’s strength working against her as she went flying forward.

Buchi chased Zoro up the staircase, taking out some posts on the banister. Startling at the sound of cracking wood, Sham got a stab at you, catching your blade arm. Wincing through the pain you tightened your grip on the Wado Ichimonji, dodging this way and that to avoid being skewered by Sham’s advances.

“Hey!” Zoro snapped, dragging Sham’s attention to him. He leaped off the stairs and cut her broom in half, finding himself now under the attack of both Black Cats. 

Chest heaving, you rolled out your shoulder and bit back a whine at the shudder of pain, swapping the sword to your other hand. Zoro lunged around Sham and sought high ground back on the stairs. Sham grinned up at him, showing off his second sword she’d swiped from its sheath. 

An annoyed tick appeared on Zoro’s jaw. 

You seemed to have been forgotten in favor of better competition, slinking into the shadows of the room. Sham stabbed Zoro’s sword into the cabinet beside her, leaving it unattended as she and Buchi cornered Zoro on the stairs. 

He swiftly leaped over them and retrieved his sword, locking you in place with a glare. Don’t move, it said. Stop while you’re ahead.

Ears ringing, you traced the line of action as Zoro fought the two pirates down to the center of the room again. He knocked Sham aside only for Buchi to lunge again, allowing the other to get back up again. Zoro shoved Buchi against the ground, successfully knocking him out. 

Letting out a hiss, Sham ran at him and nicked his cheek, knocking one sword from his hand as he evaded another hit. Something furious welled up and out of you.

“Hey!” Rushing forth, you caught her by surprise, pressing your sword against hers with all your weakening might. Her footing was off, her legs collapsing long enough for you to descend upon her and bash the brunt of the sword against her skull. 

The newfound silence crackled in the air between you and your swordsman. Breathing deeply, you suddenly let out a curse, dropping Zoro’s sword as the gash on your arm finally strained from that last blow. 

“Fuck.” You shook out your arm to stave off the pain. “Shit-shit-shit, that hurt. Gah!” Then noticing the Wado Ichimonji on the floor, “Oh, I dropped it, I’m sorry—”

You kneeled down and picked it up in your good arm, still rolling out your shoulder even as you held it out for him, eyes shining with an innocent adoration as if you hadn’t just jumped a woman for him. 

Zoro only stood there in complete and utter awe, three years worth of dreams and nightmares flooding his head as you stood before him. Fighting alongside him. Just like you used to. Like he dreamed of. Like he wanted to for the rest of your lives. He heaved, struggling to get enough air.

“I love you.” A hefty weight was lifted off his strained shoulders.

His eyes bore into yours as he caught his breath, nearly nervous in how he watched you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if your heart exploded, giving way to every feeling coursing through your veins. A smile split across your face, you set the sword on the ground to rush at him, removing all space between you and him, flushing yourself to his chest. 

Sham and Buchi’s swift swordsmanship was nothing compared to the speed at which you left kisses on his face, leaving no skin unloved. Zoro’s face scrunched up through a laugh, light and airy, his cheeks dusted pink.

Finished with your attacks you pressed your forehead to his, cradling his head in your hands and just breathing in the moment. The two pirates were groaning at your feet, but you hardly heard it, swaying in the silence.

“This was well worth the wait,” you said.

He hummed his agreement against your lips, ghosting a kiss, meaning to really kiss you till you physically forced him away, when a voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

“Oh,” Kaya awed, arm hooked through Usopp’s. “How sweet.”

Zoro tried to back away when you hooked a hand around his neck and yanked him down to your level, kissing him gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, the pair of you ignoring Usopp’s encouraging holler. “So, so, so much.”

Behind you, Sham started to wriggle awake. The smile slid fast from your face as you whirled around and gripped her by the hair, ordering Zoro to get a rope so you could secure your two prisoners.

Zoro grinned lovingly as the rest of the crew descended the stairs. “Yes ma'am.”

જ⁀➴

“I hereby call this ship,” Luffy began to declare, turning away from a teary eyed Kaya to face the grand vessel on the sunny shipyard. “The Going Merry!”

“It’s yours now,” Kaya smiled. “Your new home.”

In reply Luffy let out a shrill cry of victory, dragging a chuckle out of you. Your arm was freshly bandaged, all three of Zoro’s swords now back in their rightful sheaths. You leaned on him slightly, chin rested on his shoulder as your eyes begged for some rest. 

Luffy turned to smile at Usopp, who’d wandered some distance away. “Usopp! What’re you waiting for?”

Usopp stumbled over his words, trying his hardest not to seem excited at the prospect, and after a brief goodbye with Kaya followed by a sweet kiss, he agreed. Before you could even smile, a worried figure broke through the crowds of the shipyard.

“Oh, God,” Vee cried as soon as she spotted you. She jumped over a rail and down some stairs to envelope you in her arms. “I heard about what happened!”

Nami tilted her head. “How on earth did you hear?”

Vee waved off her question with a brief the grannies hear everything and took you by the shoulders. “I never liked that butler, I—” 

She noticed Kaya standing to the side, her mouth snapping shut. “I’m… sorry for your losses, Miss Kaya.”

The sweet girl simply smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Luffy clapped Usopp on his shoulder, smile bright as the sun, and turned his sights on his next recruit. Luffy zeroed in on you, calling out, “Y/N! You’re coming, right?”

Vee cast him an odd glance, shifting her gaze back to you. “What…”

She blinked and seemed to only just notice the swordsman at your shoulder, and she let out a gentle laugh. “Would you look at that? Speak of the devil.”

Zoro scoffed, half grinning. “Hey, Vee.”

Realization was slowly dawning on the woman as she took your hand in hers. “So… This means you’re off then?”

You were almost reluctant to nod. “Yes.”

A hundred different thoughts flashed across her eyes, lips pursing, before Vee nodded firmly. “Right. You’ll need supplies, won’t you? Some herbs and bottles, to continue your work. A textbook maybe.” Her hand found your cheek as she gave a watery smile. “You’re exceptional, you know. I’m proud of my apprentice.”

A burn welled up in your throat as you cupped her hand. “What about you? Who’ll help with the clinic?”

“You know, Vee,” Usopp cut in. “Kaya was just saying she’d like to be a doctor.”

Kaya gently smacked his arm, reprimanding him as Vee blinked surprisedly.  “Really? Uhm, well, I’d be happy to teach you, get you ready for academy entries… If that’s something you’d like?”

“Yes,” Kaya blurted, flushing slightly through her barely suppressed smile. 

“Great!” Luffy exclaimed, locking eyes with you. “You’re in, then?”

You took in a steadying breath, your hand searching sightlessly behind you, Zoro’s hand meeting yours moments later. “I’m in.”

Nami leaned into her hip, grinning. “Good. I don’t know how much more testosterone I could take.”

The lot of you set off in different directions, off to gather supplies as quickly as possible to get off the island before the marines caught back up. You lagged behind, Zoro falling into step beside you.

He offered you a little smile and moved his arm around your shoulder, liking the feel of you tucked into his side. It finally settled in that this was happening. Years of wishing finally came to fruition. You pressed a kiss to the back of Zoro’s hand.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you confessed.

“I swore, didn’t I?” Zoro said.

Through a blinding smile, you stopped and kissed him. “You did.” Your fingertips grazed the back of his neck as you held him close, running a shiver down his spine. You pressed your forehead to his and mused, “We’re still not the greatest apothecary and swordsman in the world though.”

“Dracule Mihawk is hard to find—”

“I’m kidding. We’ve got all the time in the world to get there.”

Although you weren’t exactly sure how one becomes the greatest apothecary in the world, you were exactly sure that wherever your ambitions took you, Zoro would be there. If you had any influence on fate, you would sail together till the end of your days.

જ⁀➴

Four rickety boned women stood along the wall of the tavern, hawkeyed gazes scouring the streets of Syrup Village. Martha, June, Polly, and of course, Miss Irma.

Irma massaged at her ever-pained neck, searching out something of interest, when her ears caught the tail end of a laugh. Sweeping the street, her gaze stopped upon a shocking sight.

Well, she thought, that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Miss Kaya from the mansion estate was leaving the town clinic, arm in arm with that troublesome Usopp. Irma harrumphed, thinking Miss Kaya should know better than to keep such company, when she noticed Usopp was followed by some odd companions.

A ginger girl looking worse for wear, a boy with a straw hat so worn she wouldn’t be surprised if the wind blew it apart, and Vee, the village doctor. A fairly odd group indeed.

She hummed curiously, especially when the door to the clinic swung open once more to reveal Vee’s apprentice, a full to the brim satchel on her shoulder. Irma swatted at her three friends and pointed their attention to the sight just as someone else followed the girl out of the clinic.

Martha gaped, her cigarette falling to the ground. Irma, June, and Polly reacted the same, not entirely believing it.

Right behind the apprentice walked a handsome young man with a shock of green hair and three swords at his hip, a gentle smile on his face as he tugged on the girl’s arm to get her to face him again. Turning around, she was greeted with a kiss to her forehead and a gaze so warm Irma felt its heat from across the street.

“It’s—It’s that boy,” Polly exclaimed. “The one that left her.”

Irma started to grin a satisfied kind of grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pay up, ladies. I told you he’d come back for her.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nadlx33333 @fluffybunnyu @ellisaworld @hawkins-2000 @bdudette @misfits1a @star-yawnznn

#zoro #zoro x reader #opla!zoro x reader #opla #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader

[artiststarme]

Part 1 of a new thing I’m working on. It only gets juicier from here! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any name ideas, please send them my way.

~*~*~*~

Steve was confused most of the time, everyone knew it. Especially since his run-ins with the Upside Down, he never had any idea what was happening. From not sensing the obvious when everyone else grabbed a flashlight to missing blatant social cues, it wasn’t unusual for something to go over his head. And yet, sitting on the little Byers’ floor of his bedroom while Will paced around in front of him, ranting to the air, was the most befuddled Steve had ever been.

Of all of the kids, Steve was never very close to Will. He was the shyest of all the kids and he didn’t seem to need an older role model like Dustin or Max did. He already had Jonathan and his mom, two people that would risk their lives to save him so he never really needed Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loved the kid. He just didn’t have a bond with him the same way he did with the other kids. Nonetheless, when Will asked him for a quick word as Mrs. Byers spoke to El and Jonathan said his goodbyes to Nancy, Steve followed him to his bare room without complaint. He didn’t know what he expected, maybe some advice about girls or hobbies or maybe just Will asking him to look out for the other kids. Something expected, something mundane. But that’s not what Steve received.

Will stopped stalking back and forth, took a deep breath and said, “I’m gay.”

He cringed as he said the words, immediately losing his confidence and breaking eye contact with Steve. And Steve just blinked.

“Okay… Is that all?”

He didn’t really know how to answer that. It didn’t really matter to him if Will liked other dudes and it certainly didn’t change the way he saw the kid. It was still confusing that Will was choosing to tell HIM of all people, he had no idea what about him made everyone want to come out to him with Will being the second person to do so in as many days. But regardless, there was nothing that the kids could do that would make Steve turn on him.

It may not have been the most tactful way of voicing his acceptance but Will felt a weight lifted despite it. He knelt down to give a thankful hug to Steve who returned his hug awkwardly.

“Thanks Steve, I knew out of everyone that you would understand.” Steve was about to ask why he of all people would understand but Will continued, “No one else knows yet, not even Mike and uh… I really like him, Steve.”

All thoughts left Steve’s mind as he automatically started insulting Will’s taste. “Mike? Mike Wheeler? What the hell, dude. I have no problem with you liking guys but Mike? Jesus Christ, he’s like the worst person you could choose. His attitude sucks, he’s got beady little eyes full of anger, and he’s kind of a douche.”

Will looked stuck somewhere between amused and offended. “But… he’s my best friend? He’s always been there and I, I think I love him a little bit. What do I do?”

Steve sighed and put a heavy hand on his shoulder, his bruised face grimacing in sympathy. “You’re young so you have plenty of time to fall for other guys. Move on. Trust me, you do not want to date a Wheeler. Especially Mike. My god, kid, have a little taste. I can understand Nancy but Mike? No way.”

“But, but you’re sure you’re okay with me… being gay. I like boys, not girls,” Will prodded.

“I know what it means, Byers. It doesn’t change anything. Liking boys doesn’t make you any different and you’re still another one of the runts to me, alright?” He ducked his head to meet Will’s eyes and only when he nodded did he put space between him. “Good. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. I’ll always be here if you need me.”

“Can I call you? After we move to California?” Will asked with trepidation.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be around. You can call me, El can call me, hell even Jonathan can call me if he wants.”

That last part got him a weird look in response. “... you want Jonathan to call you?”

“I mean, sure, if he wants to. He probably won’t because I’m no Nancy and we’re not really friends but it would be nice to have people calling,” Steve shrugged and ignored Will’s look of appall.

“I thought you wouldn’t like Jonathan because he stole your girlfriend.”

He frowned, “nah, there were other things wrong between Nance and I long before your brother came around. He’s pretty cool and he’s got an awesome little brother too, what’s not to like?”

Will smiled and they sat in silence for a few moments before Steve cleared his throat, said his last goodbyes, and made his way home. He slunk back to bed to sleep off the oncoming migraine and pain in his beaten face. Steve didn’t think much more about Will’s admission or their emotional conversation. Instead, he focused on the warm feeling in his chest that came with two people trusting him enough to be honest to him, to be themselves without fear around him. Robin and Will were the first people who trusted him with something important beyond reputation or popularity. It made him feel like he was finally doing something right, like he had finally moved past all of the King Steve bullshit and he’d never felt better about it.

#this is probably going to be like 3 or 4 parts #it’s been in my notes for ages #stranger things #fanfic #eventual steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #will byers #byler

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR.

PART I: SOUNDCHECK.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (f,a)

Chapters: II. OPENING ACT / III. UNPLUGGED / IV. HIDDEN TRACK

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band's photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who's not very welcoming of you . (10,2k words)

Author's note: The smut will not be taking place in the first part pls be patient because good things come to those who waits :)

Click here for ON TOUR playlist.

Content warning: mentioned vomiting.

A man is standing by the door of your apartment.

You take a few steps down the stairs to hide because he seems suspicious. He's dressed in all black with the hoodie pulled over his head, casting a dark shadow over his face and making it hard for you to identify him.

If that was someone you know, he would call you and let you know that he's outside your apartment. To add to your suspicion, he starts pacing back and forth by the door of your apartment.

You duck to get out of his sight and you shouldn't be afraid because you are in your apartment building, he's trespassing, and you have the rights to send him away.

As a precaution, you rummage inside your bag for your keys and tuck one between your fingers as a weapon. It's not the best form of self-defense but just in case it's not working, all you have to do is scream loud enough for your neighbors to hear you.

You take cautious steps up the stairs and approach the mysterious man who has his back facing you. You swallow air as your heart starts beating so fast that you feel like having a cardiac arrest.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupted the suspenseful moment and the man picks it up immediately, "Yeah, I don't think she's home. Do you..."

Wait, you know this voice but you can't pinpoint who it belongs to. It's like listening to an old song and trying to guess who sang it.

The hand that is raised and ready to attack slowly drops to your side as you rake your brain and try to remember.

The man suddenly turns around and in reflex, your hand raises to attack him again to only abruptly stop once you see his face.

"Whoa! Whoa! Calm down!" He says with his hands up.

Then you recognize the freckles, the small mouth, the nose, and his deep voice that you finally remember who it belongs to.

"Felix?" You ask in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's me!" He says with his hands still raised and a horrified look on his face.

You miss him so much your eyes teared up that you finally get to see him in the flesh.

"Were you about to punch me?" He asks, eyeing the key between your knuckles.

You cry-laughing in response, "And I'm still going to punch you," you say.

You proceed with your plan, playfully punching him in the chest, "You said you would never forget me when you become famous," you say between your exhausted grunts.

You gently push him away, sending him staggering backward, "you lied to me," you say with your index finger pointed right at him.

He laughs and walks up to you again, "Hey, come on! That's why I'm here," he says, opening his arms to welcome you to hug him.

It's useless to try to act upset when you're immensely happy to see him again, the frown on your face gradually turns into a smile.

"I miss you," he says, being the one to hug you first.

You cave in almost instantly and hug him back, letting the memories from the teen years you spent together flood your head like a fast-paced montage. You hug him as someone who misses her best friend would, tightly and warmly. What is there left to do than letting him know it with words?

"I miss you," you say back, saying it makes it real that you feel a sting in your heart.

-

"How did you know where I live?"

You take two cans of beer out of the fridge and push the fridge door close with your hips.

Felix is looking at the wall covered with photographs you took from your years of studying photography abroad.

"Your mom told my mom and my mom told me," he walks to the sofa to sit next to you, taking one of the beer cans from you.

"Thanks," he mutters, doesn't waste a second to open it.

You also take a long gulp, unexpectedly thirsty from experiencing a short adrenaline rush earlier.

"Oh, my God! I forgot that our moms are friends," you say.

You and Felix were neighbors thus explaining how the decade-long friendship formed since you were in middle school.

"Unlike us," you jokingly add.

While you had to leave to study abroad, Felix stayed and pursued his dream to study music which marked the part of your lives branched out, growing apart from each other.

"Here we are now," he says and clinks his can of beer with yours.

You smile and take a small sip.

"So, you're a photographer now?" he puts down his drink and leans back with his arms outstretched on the headrest of the sofa.

"Yep!"

"And how is it going?" He turns his head at you with his hand playing with the end of your hair.

"It's great! I got fully booked until the end of the year," you answer with a sly grin.

"That's incredible!" He sincerely praises.

"Yes, it is!" You take another sip of beer, then burst into laughter.

"Except that I'm lying," you sadly add as the laughter turns into a grim look.

Felix doesn't say anything but put his arm around you, lets you rest your head on his shoulder, and endearingly pats your shoulder to comfort you.

"I'm glad that we're reconnecting cause now I know I can borrow some money from you," you say with a heavy sigh.

He nudges your shoulder with his, "I'm sure it's not that bad," he says.

"It is that bad. I'm barely booked for a job," you admit how pathetic you are to a friend you haven't seen in years but it's relieving to have someone you can openly tell your worries to.

His arm draws you closer so he can plant a kiss on top of your head, "just give it some time," he says.

It's the one thing that doesn't change in him: a man of physical affection. As someone who knows him for years, you don't mind him entering your personal space because that's just how he shows his affection, it's through physical touches. As he brushed your hair with his fingers, you feel nothing but comfort.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asks.

"It's the perks of being a freelance photographer, you have a flexible working time which technically means that I'm jobless so yeah, I'm not busy at all," you ramble as you catch his hand and clasped it with his.

"How about we have fun and have some good music tomorrow night?"

You get what he meant when he said 'tomorrow night', his band is having a concert and you need the distraction from this adulting thing.

You turn your head to look at him, "I would love that."

He smiles while looking down at you, "I'll have someone pick you up tomorrow afternoon," he says.

You tilt your head up, "Doesn't it starts at seven?"

"You don't want to join us for the soundcheck?" He asks back.

You grin at the thought of being exclusively invited to it, "can I bring my camera?"

He thinks for a moment, "I think so, yeah," he doubtfully answers.

His phone has been vibrating inside his jeans pocket but he keeps ignoring it. You leer at him, "It's okay if you have to go," you tell him.

He takes his arm away and pulls his phone out to reject the call, "It's my manager. We have tons of interviews to do tomorrow before the show so..." he sucks air through his teeth instead of finishing his sentence.

You get it that he feels bad for not having time to catch up on a lot of things with you yet he has responsibilities to do on behalf of his job.

"Then go!" You simply tell him.

He squints his eyes at you, "Are you kicking me out?"

"Yes," you take his jacket from the armrest of the sofa and toss it at him.

As much as you wanted to catch up with him, you can't be selfishly holding him from fulfilling his duty. Moreover, he needs the rest.

It's close to midnight and the street is almost empty, it's a good thing, there's a thin chance of people recognizing him.

"You wanted to punch me earlier and now I got kicked out of your apartment," he mumbles as he pushes the door to get out of your apartment building.

"Goodness, Felix!" You sigh and it feels weird calling his name again after a long time.

You hail a cab from across the street for him and the other hand holding his, "We'll meet again tomorrow, remember?" you remind him.

The taxi stops on the side of the road and you open the door for him.

Felix puts his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, "I'm so happy to see you again," he says with a breath of relief.

Knowing that the feeling is mutual, you smile as you hug him back, "me too, Felix, me too," you say, rubbing the small of his back to let the words seep into him.

"See you tomorrow!" Felix doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek, a long, lingering one then lets go after a while.

He flashes a warm smile at you as he gets into the taxi, "go back inside!"

You nod, walking backward toward the entrance of your apartment building with your hand waving at him, "Goodnight!"

You watch the taxi drives away which makes you hit by a wave of nostalgia.

The day you left to study abroad, Felix sent you away in a taxi and you remember crying so hard the whole ride to the airport, heartbroken by the fact you won't be meeting someone like him to where you were going.

The moment you're back at your apartment, you dig into your vinyl collection, searching for an old record you haven't been playing in a long time.

"Gotcha!" You exclaim when you finally found it. You rush to the record player and carefully place the needle on the vinyl.

As the song starts playing, you sit by the window sill with a new can of beer, looking out at the view of the city with its blinking lights. It surely reminds you of those grueling first few days of living so far away from home. You cooped in your small flat and listened to this song through the headphones, being severely homesick.

"So what do you say? You can't give me the dreams that are mine anyway."

It wasn't a place or a certain object or the dull routine that you long to do, Felix's face ran through your head whenever you thought of home.

"You're half the world away... Half the world away..."

And tonight, you want to replace the bittersweet memory it elicits and plant a new one so the next time you listen to this song, you'd think of this day when you finally reunited with him.

"I've been lost. I've been found. But I don't feel down."

-

The car is pulling up right in front of you and you doubt that it's the one Felix sent to pick you up. The car is way too big and too fancy to pick up someone like you.

The window rolls down and you see someone with a bleached, buzzcut hair on the driver's seat.

"Are you a friend of Felix?" He asks.

It takes you a moment to process such a simple question, "Y-yes, I am."

"Okay, great, get in the car then!" He says.

You stand there and exchange confused glances at each other.

"I came here to pick you up," he explains, "Felix sent me."

He butchered the key information that assures you he's the one Felix ordered to get you to the venue. Seeing that you're not convinced yet, he pulls out an ID hung around his neck.

"I would appreciate it if you get in the car right now or else, we'll be late for the soundcheck," he says.

You stifle a nod and get into the car, sitting on the passenger's side, and putting on your seatbelt quickly.

"And thank you for sitting in the front," he says.

He drives fast despite the heavy traffic on the way to the concert venue. While waiting for the traffic light to turn green, he uses the opportunity to introduce himself.

"I'm Lou, by the way," he introduces himself.

You introduce yourself back, "Are you working for the band?"

He sucks air through his teeth, "you can say that, yeah," he vaguely answers.

You don't want to pressure him to answer your question especially when you just met him minutes ago.

After driving past the intersection, he continues to speak more about himself, "I'm a friend of Han and he got me to work with him, as a roadie."

"Ah, I get it," you lowly exclaim.

"I guess it's better than staying unemployed," he says.

You nod, agreeing with him. Anything is better than having no money.

"What about you? I heard you're a photographer?"

"That's right, yeah, I'm a freelance so I'm as good as a jobless person," you jokingly say.

He glances to see that you're not bringing anything but a sling bag, "you're not taking any cameras with you?"

You planned on taking one but you doubt that they'll let you take any pictures in there anyway so you decided not to. You still can take pictures with your phone anyway.

"I'm not sure if they'll allow me..."

He nods, "Yeah, I'm not sure either."

You let out a breath of relief knowing that you made the right decision.

Lou parks the car at the back of the concert venue, he tells you to keep following him but he walks so fast that you start to panting.

"ID, please?" The security asks him.

He shows his ID at him then points at you, "She's with me."

Lou continues walking fast while greeting everyone he meets on the way. It's like walking in a maze but he takes you to one of the doors that leads to the pit.

"I think we're late," he says.

As he pushes it open, the sound of music playing greets you.

There they are, the three of them on the stage, adjusting their instruments to get them ready for the soundcheck.

"Sit whenever you want!" Lou tells you.

You nod and find it hard to choose where to sit despite they're all empty.

"I'll come back in a few minutes with a pass for you," he says before leaving.

"Thank you," you mutter to him but he probably can't hear it against the blasting electric guitar playing from the stage.

You can spot his red hair, catching your eye right away as if his head caught on fire.

He's shredding his guitar, playing a riff that you recognize is an intro from one of their songs. On the back, you see Felix, tightening the screws on his drums and checking his pedal.

The other one is setting the amplifier next to Felix's drums, playing his bass to see if it's the tune he desired.

It doesn't stop there, next, they're checking their mics by calling their names into it.

"Check one two, one two, it's Han," he says into the mic.

You wouldn't say you don't know any of them because who doesn't?

Ssick is a band founded by Han, the vocalist and informally, the frontman of the band. He met Felix at a college and started jamming together but to start a band, they needed a guitar player, so Felix introduced him to Hyunjin who's now their main guitarist.

So they began playing as a band from one place to another throughout their college years and they grew a great following.

A year later, they got offered a record deal. Little did they know, they're off to great things. It's their third year as a band now.

As you grow older, you're off the radar on knowing what's popular these days so you can't exactly know how big they are but they're having a showcase concert to promote their third album right now so that says a lot.

They start playing a song on the stage right now, it's one that you heard so many times on the radio and again that says a lot about their popularity.

You can't help but notice how much Felix has grown, he used to be this boy who eats sweets and left the wrappers strewn around your bedroom floor and now he's there, being what he always wanted to be, a drummer for a band, a rockstar.

It sounded like a silly dream back then but look at him, proving that you're wrong.

You unconsciously get up from your seat once the soundcheck is done and clap your hands together, you doubt that they can hear it because you're sitting far enough and they get off the stage right away.

"Okay, now what we're doing?" You awkwardly ask yourself.

Lou says he'll be away for a few minutes but he hasn't come back yet. You look around the empty arena only to spot a few staff putting numbers on the seats.

It won't be long until one of them find out that you're an intruder walking around the concert venue, it's not like they would believe that you're a friend of one of the band member. Things don't work out that way.

You exit through the same door Lou took you in and start looking for him. The faster you get to him, the better chance you get of not getting kicked out.

However, the constant reminder of telling yourself to put on a calm face only makes you even more suspicious. Someone spotted you walking through the hallway and makes his way toward you, it's too late to turn back.

"Sorry, miss," the tall guard says.

He looks for something which you believe is an ID hanging around your neck.

"May I know what your business here is?"

You open your mouth but nothing comes out of your mouth, it isn't like you commit a crime but it feels like you got caught stealing something.

"I-I got here with Lou," you stammer.

"Who?"

"Lou, I came here—" your throat is closing up the more you try to explain, "but h-he went to get me—"

"I'm sorry, miss. I can't let you walk around here without an ID," he sternly says, holding his hand out to escort you somewhere.

Somehow you find yourself walking to where he's leading you as you try to come up with something convincing, "I'm a friend," you say.

With a flat smile, you know he dismissed you right away.

"I swear, I know Felix," you say but that sounds delusional coming from you who have no proof whatsoever.

From the opposite direction, you notice a familiar face who you think may be able to get you out of this dire situation.

You only have a little time as you're about to meet in the middle, hesitated and groggy, you call out his name.

"Hyunjin?"

You see him walk past you with his headphones on. Hopeless, you pull the sleeve of his jacket at once that the phone he's holding drops onto the floor.

Hyunjin immediately turns around and sees you.

"I'm so sorry," you quickly mutter, scrambling to pick up his phone from the floor. In one glance, you can tell the song he's listening to on his phone.

"I'm sorry," you say again while looking up to see and make sure that it's him, the red hair peeking out from the black beanie he's wearing confirmed it.

He stares at you for a moment but you sense that he's going to come at you for dropping his phone.

"Can you help me?" You ask, getting ahead of him.

His forehead wrinkles in confusion as he cleans the screen of his phone with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Can you call Felix for me? Let him know that I'm here?" You desperately say as the guard stands right behind you, witnessing the awkward exchange.

He looks at you again with an even more intense stare.

"Please?" You plead with a thin smile.

Hyunjin shifts his eyes to check for any damage, "and who are you?" he asks without looking at you.

"I'm a friend of Felix," you say and you wished that you said it confidently.

He looks up from his phone, his eyes are once again on you but what is strange about his stare this time is it's as if he saw another human for the first time: pure bewilderment.

"Can you please call him for me?" You kindly ask him again.

But the long pause only tells you that he has no intentions to help you.

"You know what? Never mind," you sigh.

You decide to give up trying to convince him. You have no proof to make him trust you anyway so why bother trying?

You turn around to let the guard take you to wherever he's going to send you, probably toss you out to the street.

Thankfully, at the end of the hall, Lou appeared to stop that from happening.

"I've been looking for you!" He says when he's still a few meters from you when it should be you saying that.

"It's okay, she's with me," he says to the guard.

He lets go right away and turns to do his job elsewhere, as much as you hate to experience it but that man is merely doing his job.

You let out a big sigh of relief, "what took you so long?" You whine and sound exactly like you're about to cry.

He puts the pass around your neck like a necklace, you check it to see that it's an all-access pass.

"Logistics stuff," he concisely explains.

You choose to let him off easy, he's also, just doing his job.

Putting his arm around your shoulder after, Lou takes you walking with him in the opposite direction of the hallway and when you think about it, it starts to feel like a maze.

"Where are we going?"

"The green room!" He shortly replies.

You both arrived at two big doors with the name of the band plastered on them and guarded by a security guard. He glances at your pass before opening the door for you.

Suddenly, a wave of anxiety hits you. Because what if you're not welcome there? You stop Lou from taking you inside with your hand holding onto the door.

"Is it alright for me to be in there?"

Lou got so perplexed by your question, "Of course!"

The little incident earlier gives you an inkling that someone inside wouldn't want you there. Lou probably thinks that you're nervous, he takes your hand to drag you inside, "If it's not alright then why Felix asked me to take you here?"

The green room is empty except for a few people sitting on the couch and a few others are in another part of the room.

"Hey guys, I found her loitering outside," Lou playfully announce your arrival to Felix who was talking to someone on the couch.

"Should we take her or not?"

Felix chuckles and leans back on the couch, scanning you from head to toe, "I'm not sure," he says.

Lou grabs both of your shoulders, "okay then I'll just toss her into the recyclable bin," he jokes.

You glare at both Felix and Lou, keeping your face stern.

Felix softens right away, "Okay, okay, come here!"

He takes your hand, pulling you hard enough that you topple onto his lap. You immediately get off his lap, afraid that people might take it the wrong way.

"Thank you for taking her here," Felix thanked Lou.

"No problem, man!" He replies, walking to the fridge stocked with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. He picks up a can of cola and plops down on the other sofa.

"Where's Han?"

"In an interview in the other room," Felix replies, also grabbing a can of cola from the fridge without getting up. He opens it and hands it to you.

"Thanks," you mutter.

He leans back on the sofa again, looking tired even though his day is far from done.

"So, how was the soundcheck?"

You quickly swallow your first sip of soda to answer, "It was great!"

"Just great?"

You lowly chuckle, "we were much greater," you answer with a cheeky grin.

"That! I don't agree!"

Your head turns to see someone standing behind you and for a second, you thought it was the last person you want to see there and vice versa.

Han plops down on the sofa next to you, "I'm Han," he offers his hand at you.

You tell him your name while taking his hand to shake, "here I thought no one shakes hands anymore," you say.

A cocky grin appears on his small, round face, "I'm classy that way," he says.

Felix snorts next to you, "Trust me, there's nothing classy about this man!"

Han hits Felix with a cushion, "Back me up here!"

"She'd know if I lied," Felix defended himself.

"No, actually," You turn to Felix and continue speaking, "Anyone can tell when you're lying, Felix!"

Now, it's Han's turn to laugh, he puts his hoodie on and moves to the smaller sofa, getting comfortable by putting a cushion under his neck.

"I'm taking a nap," he announces and puts on earplugs.

Felix puts his hand around your shoulder and pulls you close until your head meets his, "am I that transparent?" He asks you in a whispery voice.

You lowly laugh, "Since day one."

He drops his head onto your shoulder and heavily sighs.

You pet his head and his hair is perfectly tousled as if someone spent hours styling it that way.

Something red enters your peripheral vision and your heart skipped a beat, you haven't decided how you should act upon the little incident earlier.

Should you be wise and let it go? You also hate to be in this situation.

"Hyunjin, I want to introduce someone to you," Felix shouts at him with his head still resting on your shoulder and your hand in his hair.

Hyunjin stops on his track for a while, looking at Felix, then at you. As he sets his eyes on you, you decide to bravely stare back at him, letting him know that it's the right time for him to say something.

All he does is this subtle shrug then goes to the other part of the room. No apologies or even a hint of regret for dismissing you earlier.

Holding a grudge seems to be the only right choice at the moment and you don't care how petty that sounds.

Felix knows that Hyunjin just gave you a not-so-friendly welcome greeting, "he's always like that before a show," he assures you.

"Man, he's like that even after the concert," Lou adds.

With eyes closed, Han injects himself into the conversation, "pretty boys are like that," he jokingly remarks.

"The fact that you aren't like that means you're not pretty?" Lou pokes fun at him.

He smirks with eyes closed, "that's because I'm cool," he ends with a bold statement.

-

Thankfully, Felix doesn't have to go anywhere but get his makeup done.

The make-up artist doesn't do much on him, just a thin layer of foundation that covers enough with his freckles still showing, dusting both of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

After that, he does his preconcert rituals and which consist of having a light meal, drinking hydration drinks, memorizing the setlist, warming up, and having a quick briefing with the stage director.

You feel like a real intruder as you walk with him to the back of the stage, you have no other choice with his arm around your shoulder.

The manager finally appears a few minutes before showtime, everyone gathers into a circle while you stand in the corner.

"Come here!" Felix says, gesturing you to join in.

Lou is pushing you from the back, also joining the circle for team cheer. Hands are stacked in the middle of the circle you can't tell whose hands belong to who anymore.

The manager shouts encouragement loudly as the opening sequence of the concert has began playing on stage and the crowd cheers at the anticipation.

"On three!" Han shouts.

"One, two, three!" He shouts as everyone throws their hands in the air in unison.

"WE'RE SO SSICK!" Everyone shouts in unison except you.

The path to the stage is signed with neon-colored tape plastered onto the floor but it's still dark to see what you're stepping on. Lou is quick to turn on the flashlight from his phone while fisting the back of your t-shirt, afraid that you might stumble with the cables slithering on the floor.

Everyone is stopping at the side of the stage, still out of the crowd's sight.

"You can watch from here!" Felix tells you.

You grab him by the elbow to whisper to him instead of trying to talk over the loud music, "Good luck!"

He smiles, then pulls you into a quick hug. He turns at Lou but he knows what he's going to say.

"Don't worry! I got her!" He assures him.

The moment each one of them steps into the stage, the crowd cheers louder it's deafening.

"Your friend worries a lot," Lou whispers to you.

"I know," you mouthed at him while laughing.

The show starts with a blasting guitar playing from Hyunjin, a riff from the title song in their last album. It feels as if someone just electrocuted you because all of sudden your body is buzzing all over but in the best way.

Then Felix starts banging his drum with his foot hitting the pedal so hard that you can feel every beat right in your eardrum.

After a few bars of intro, Han takes over his place in the front and pushes his mouth close to the mic, singing the first line of the verse followed by the crowd singing along with him.

Somehow, you picked up the lyrics of the chorus right away and sang along on the second verse. Your body is controlled by the music that you're no longer trying to stop yourself anymore but giving in.

In the break between the songs, you take a step forward to see how many people are there coming to the concert. Turns out, the arena is full of people from top to bottom, front to back. There are so many people you can't possibly count them in your head.

All of the hairs on your arms are standing as you take a step back to the side of the stage, "oh my God!"

Lou grins at you, he seems to be used to this view. Unlike you, he's busy looking at the members the whole time, to check if anyone needs something fixed quickly.

They'll signal him if something is wrong or the sound is either too low or high, mic problem. Lou also helps if either Hyunjin or Han needs a change of instruments.

"Here! Felix's solo is coming soon!" He gestures for you to come over to him.

You comply, standing a little too close to the stage but hidden behind the stage equipment. There, you get a clear view of Felix playing his drum, every movement of his hands and feet on the pedals.

Hyunjin stops playing his guitar, leaving only Han playing rhythmical guitar as the background to Felix's solo drumming.

You were wrong to ever thought that Felix's dream of becoming a drummer is a silly thing. Here you are, watching him become one and he's incredibly good at it that it feels like he's sticking his middle finger right to your face.

Other than that, you are so proud of him, proud of what he has become yet remains the same person.

Felix is too focused on playing that he only realized you were watching from the side once he's done with his solo. He slyly grins at you with one eyebrow raised while his hands are busy carrying the beat.

"Told you I'm great!" He shouts at you.

"Yeah keep telling that to yourself," you playfully reply.

It feels a whole lot different watching them from the side of the stage like this and seeing what's happening behind the scene, that there are a lot more people involved in the show to make sure everyone leaves with unforgettable memories.

They finish the last song on the setlist and take a break before going back in for the encore.

Lou is handing out extra towels as each one of them comes to the side of the stage. Felix grabs one, then begins aggressively drying his hair with it, making a mess of it.

Han has his tongue out as he tries to catch his breath, standing facing the nig portable air conditioner to cool himself down.

Hyunjin is the last one to come backstage, practically drenched in sweat. His t-shirt is soaking wet that it's stuck to his body.

He sits on top of a box with his head down, sweat dripping from the end of his hair with the red hair dye fades into the white t-shirt he's wearing.

Felix puts his hand on your shoulder as a support, as he too, is running out of breath. The sleeveless top he's wearing is sticking to his skin despite it having two gaping holes on each side, exposing just enough to let everyone know he has toned abs under there.

Realizing that you unintentionally ogling at your best friend, you shake the thoughts away, quickly grabbing a bottled water nearby and uncap it for him.

"For the greatest drummer in the world," you switch the towel in his hand with it.

He's too exhausted to laugh at it that he can only grin, then takes a long, big gulp of water it spills out the corner of his mouth and dribbles down his chin. He finishes the whole bottle in under a minute.

With the already damp towel, you dab the sweat on his face and neck, carefully not ruining the make-up that somehow survives the extra moisture on his face.

A few minutes have passed with the crowd chanting for an encore when it's obvious that they need another few minutes of break.

You check the setlist taped to the wall and they have three songs to play for the encore. You wonder how they can still fully function after performing for more than two hours already.

"Whenever you're ready, boys!" Someone says, which you believe is coming from the manager.

Felix grabs another bottled water, not to drink it but pours it on his head to cool it off, he pushes his bleached blonde hair to the back with his fingers.

This is the kind of sight that would make the fans go wild, but what can you say? Guess tonight they're not lucky as you.

Felix takes the towel back from you to wipe the water dribbling down his neck, "do I look alright?" He asks with his eyes wide.

You saw the stylist put on mascara on him earlier and now it's slightly smudged with how much he sweats, but that only adds to the rockstar look. You decide to only wipe the excess under his eyes ever so slowly with your pinky finger.

"Let's get ready!" Han says as he looks around for the members despite he's still catching his breath.

Felix puts his hand away from your shoulder to get a clean towel, using it to dab fresh sweat on his face.

Behind him, something catches your eyes, the red of Hyunjin's hair and him casually taking his t-shirt off in front of everyone. Well, everyone is probably used to this but not you, you're the only one having a hard time trying not to look his way.

Look away, look away, you repeatedly tell yourself, but instead of doing that, you do the exact opposite.

You stare at his back figure and see the ridges his back muscles made as he puts a t-shirt over his head that eventually covers his smooth skin, glistening wet even under the poor lighting backstage.

Han once again takes the lead, walking up to Felix and tapping him on the shoulder repeatedly as if to transfer his energy to him.

"Let's go!" He excitedly tells him.

Felix always manages to catch you off guard, surprising you by pressing a kiss on the cheek and you can only give in to him.

"Be right back!" He says with a grin.

Hyunjin follows them not long after, but stopping at the side to dry his hair with a towel, you feel a few drops of his sweat land on your arms.

He briefly glances at you, then tosses the damp towel away before entering the stage again.

That one stare reminds you why you're still holding a grudge against him, but at the same time, you don't want it to ruin the night.

However, once Hyunjin plays his guitar, you forget all about it.

You feel the shiver down your spine, and it's getting intense as the guitar riffs he plays charmed you to keep watching.

And it's hard to do so because he's so blinding.

Before you fall in deeper, you turn to see Felix who's just as blinding, shining in his own limelight. You don't have to talk about Han, he shines in his own way from the way he got everyone wrapped around his little finger.

The pit is going berserk as they play a song they have probably been waiting for. The loud cheering returns and the music starts filling the entire space, letting it hypnotize and control them.

There's no use in fighting it, you let yourself get carried away and notice that Lou joining you as he puts his arm on your shoulder, jumping together to the intensified music as it comes close to its ending.

As the music stops, you found yourself panting and turn to the side to find Lou laughing, you can't help but laugh along with him even though you feel like you're about to faint.

The concert is close to three hours long but it seems like none of the attendees wanted to go home. You can relate to that after what you've experienced, that incredible feeling of being a part of something much bigger than ourselves. It's one-of-a-kind, euphoric, and addictive.

"Let's wait in the back!" Lou says, leading you down the steps with the help of the flashlight from his phone.

After the curtain closed and the lights are out, they finally come down to the backstage. The cheers from everyone who's working just as hard behind the curtains welcome them, applauds and whistles.

They give handshakes, high-fives, and quicks hugs to thank them for their hard work while you're trailing behind as they make their way back to the green room.

Felix stops on his track with his head turned, searching for you.

"She's here!" Lou says as he gently pushes you his way.

You walk up to him with a proud smile on, profoundly proud of him for not only achieving his dream but keep thriving at it.

"You were so great!" You got choked as you tell him that and he knows it's coming from the bottom of your heart, you're about to hug him when he avoids it.

"I'm sweaty, babe," he says, maintaining a space between your bodies.

He drops his hand to hold yours instead and starts walking together.

-

Felix comes out of the green room with his damp hair brushed to the back, carrying a bag on one shoulder with a smile blossoming on his face the second he sees you.

You've been waiting outside because they must be tired from the show, you should give them the space to cool down.

You stole a few packs of sweets and waited outside with Lou.

Felix walks towards you with his arms outstretched, hinting that he's going to hug you and you immediately rise from your seat to receive it.

His freshly shampooed hair smells nice but what you like the most is that natural scent that clung to his clothes.

"You smell way better now," you playfully say as you pull away.

"I know," he coyly answers with a smile.

He puts his arm around you and starts walking down the hallway that leads to the parking basement where a van is already parked right outside with the driver already waiting.

"You get in first!" He says.

Again, you comply without a word and only realized that you have no idea where he's taking you once you are seated in the back row of the van.

Felix plops down next to you and puts his bag next to him.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"The after-party, of course," he simply answers.

"Aren’t you... tired?"

That must have sounded so naive coming from you that he chuckles, "Why? It's past your bedtime?"

You nod, "Yes. I actually want to go home. I miss my bed."

He glances at you in disbelief and shakes his head with his hand rummaging the inside of his bag.

"I use the same one," you share as he takes out a cherry lip balm.

He applies it on his lips, then says, "Want me to apply it on you?" he leans in with his lips puckered.

Your hand reflexively pushes him away as he playfully tries to kiss you. At the same time, someone enters the car and from the bright red of his hair, you know who it is without having to see his face.

Your laughs die down as he sits on the seat in the middle, you hear him sighing then drops his bag on the space next to him with a low thud.

It's getting quiet inside the dark of the van, the only source of light is coming from Felix's phone as he's checking his messages.

"Are you even allowed to take your girlfriend?" Hyunjin suddenly asks.

He doesn't even turn his head to the person he's asking the question to. Felix puts his arm around you to pull you closer to his side even though he has no one to show it off to.

"Why? Are you jealous?" Felix asks back instead of denying him.

You turn to the side to see Felix slyly grinning with the lights from his phone illuminating his face. On the other hand, you hear Hyunjin sighs again then puts his headphones back on again, probably regretted for asking about it.

A while later, Han and Lou finally get into the van, sitting on the front seats together. They're already busy chatting about a few things all at once and it's the first time you hear Lou talks so much.

Someone else gets into the passenger's side and the car lurches forward, exiting the parking basement. As the car drives out of the building, you can see a group of people lining up to perhaps, see the band once more before going home.

They're cheering as the van rides past them despite they can't see through the heavily tinted glass.

Calculate it fast in your head, they have waited for almost two hours after the concert ended just to catch a glimpse of them.

It makes you realize that you're lucky to be able to comfortably enjoy the show and now, being in the same car with them, an experience that a lot of people dream of having.

The whole ride is quiet and when you thought they must be resting out of fatigue. When the car stops in another parking basement in which you have no idea where.

Everyone can't wait to get out of the car, you're the last one to come with Felix helps you get off by holding your hand.

It's when you enter the building that you recognize it's the hotel they're staying at.

As everyone waits for the elevator to arrive, Han notices you standing across from him. Since your eyes make contact, it's only right to say something.

"Hey," you sheepishly say, afraid that he's not in the mood to talk to someone.

"Hey!" He greets back, "How was the show?"

He looks alright for a man who has sung more than twenty songs in two and a half hours.

"Incredible!" You shortly reply then realize that's not enough of a compliment.

"It's just amazing from first to last," you add and hope that it doesn't sound phony, you're just bad at verbalizing your thoughts.

He smiles back while fixing the collar of his jacket, "well, I'm glad you came," he says.

You don't expect him to be this charming in person, he has the kind of charm that slowly growing in you.

Felix hisses at him, "she came for me," he says while pushing you into the elevator as the doors slide open.

Han nudges Lou's elbow, "I didn't know Felix can be this possessive," he whispers to him intentionally loud.

Inside the small space of the elevator, Hyunjin remains unbothered with his headphones still on, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. You can only see his face through the reflection on the shiny furnace of the elevator as it shoots up to the top floor which you assume is where all the luxurious suites are located.

It shouldn't come as a surprise to you anymore but the reality that your friend is in a famous band hasn't sunk in yet.

The after-party isn't what you expected it to be, it's more like a get-together with a hotel bartender working behind a small bar, tending to everyone's drinks.

You recognize most of the people there as the staff working in the green room earlier except that they're way more relaxed.

Everyone scatters like they know where they need to go and you hate to always have to cling to Felix which only shows how shitty you are at socializing.

"Drinks?" Lou asks from beside you.

"Yes, please!" You let out a sigh of relief at the end of the sentence.

Lou doesn't hesitate to order a hard liquor while you chose to have something with the least amount of alcohol in it. You take a sip to confirm that it tastes more sugary than an alcoholic and have a bigger sip after.

Being Lou is exceptionally easy, maybe because he's so laid-back and nonchalant in a sense that makes you feel like he's not going to attack you with personal questions.

"So, what do you guys usually do at the after-party?" You ask.

He snorts, "Actually, nothing, we just... chill?" He doubtfully answers, then pulls out a phone from his jacket.

"Let's take a picture!" He gives you no time to think of a pose but holds out his hand far enough to fit both of your faces in the camera.

What kind of photographer who doesn't know how to pose? You almost roll your eyes at yourself as the thought runs through your head.

"What's your Instagram?"

"I don't have one."

He squints his eyes at you for a moment, "No media social presence? Cool!"

You can't tell if he's being sarcastic or earnestly complimenting you, whichever it is, you don't feel offended by him.

"I have one but it's for my photography and work stuff," you add before you weirded him out more.

"Here," he hands you his phone to let you insert your username.

As you're handing his phone back, Felix comes from behind you. He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and talks close to your ear.

"Hey, I need you to meet someone," he says.

You turn to the side to find him leaning so close to you that it startles you.

"Who?"

He drops his hand to yours, "come with me," he orders.

"Okay, wait," you gulp the rest of your drink before letting Felix take you somewhere.

You haven't had the chance to look around the suite to know there's a balcony and a group of people lounging out there.

This is where they scooted away to, you say as you spotted Han and Hyunjin sitting on the long sofa.

Felix is taking you exactly there and makes you stand in front of everyone, putting you in the center of attention.

He points at the man sitting on the other sofa, "This is Vin," he introduces.

"He's the tour manager," he adds.

You hold out your hand because this sounds formal and it's basic etiquette, something that you learned from Han earlier.

"Hi, pleased to meet you," you sincerely say.

There's a hint of regret that you didn't choose to drink something stronger back in the bar, this calls for that too with the attention you're getting.

"You're a photographer?" Vin asks.

You clear your throat before answering, "Yes," you stammer.

That doesn't sound convincing so you try again, "Yes, I am."

He fixes his seating on the sofa and leans forward as if he's needing to take a better look at you, "I don't see you taking your camera with you tonight."

"I thought I'm not allowed to so I–" you pause as you heard someone snorts, everyone else there is chatting to each other however you feel their eyes on you.

"I'm sorry," you conclude instead of finishing your sentence and oh, you hate to apologize when you don't even do anything wrong.

Vin nods as he takes his glass of drink from the glass table, "so what do you think about being the band's photographer?"

The question takes you out completely. Firstly, because you didn't ask for it, and secondly, you don't know how you feel about it because you never even thought about it.

"Felix has been telling me about you," he says.

You look at the culprit next to you and he's grinning ear to ear, he knows that you can't be mad when he's putting his sunshine face on.

"We'll be going on tour next month," Vin continues, shifting on his seat and hastily sipping his drink, "how about you join us, taking pictures of the boys, the stage, everything..."

This is so sudden, so out of the blue and you don't like doing things unplanned. You take a low breath to supply your brain with more oxygen so you can think clearly.

After a while, the cogs are turning and your head started to fill with the pros. One, It's a job, you're barely booked and the tour is next month, two, no one booked you next month and third, it's a huge opportunity, you'll not be just a photographer for a band, it's THE one famous rock band, it's Ssick.

Vin hisses as he takes another sip of his liquor, "Just for the tour and you'll be paid, of course!"

Oh, and money. You need money, a lot of it to rent a photo studio.

"Oh, you're going on tour with us?" Someone asks.

Your head turns to see Han sitting on the armrest of the sofa, talking excitedly as if he's delighted to have you as one of his entourage. Or maybe he does and that lands him on the pros list.

You're getting confident about it now and about to answer him when your eyes somehow turn to the guy sitting next to him, the bright red of his hair is a contrast to his pale face that tells he is opposed to the idea, well, he can be on the cons list and you couldn't care less.

You look away from him and turn to Vin, "I'd love to, yes," you confidently answer.

It's the first time in your life saying yes out of a whim and you feel anxiety rises inside you.

"See you on tour then!" He coyly says with his glass slightly raises at you.

You excuse yourself the second the deal is made and run back to the bar, you meet Lou on the way there as he's talking to someone.

"Can I have it?" You point at his drink.

He shrugs and hands it to you without complaint.

You drain it empty in one long gulp and wince at the bitter aftertaste. It's whiskey and it's burning your throat that you can't speak without feeling like you're about to spit fire.

He rolls his head to the back to look at you, "what's wrong?"

You can only respond by shaking your head, telling him that you're alright and that you needed to release some jitters.

When you thought you can take it, you can feel the alcohol is making its way back out of you.

Lou is quick-witted, he gets up from the sofa and pulls you to a bathroom at the end of the hall. He closes the door for you as you rush to kneel on the floor, vomiting into the toilet bowl.

You check yourself in the mirror and see the mess you made on your t-shirt. You wet a towel to clean it but it's doing nothing, if anything, everyone would know you just vomited.

Someone barges into the toilet, it's your fault for not locking it after Lou closed it for you.

"It's occupied!" You shout, putting a hand to stop someone comes inside.

"It's me!"

From his deep voice, you can easily tell that it's Felix. Slowly you let go of your hand from blocking the door and open it for him.

His eyes dart to your wet, tainted t-shirt.

"I'm so grotesque, I know," you whine and continue your effort to clean it by roughly wiping on it with the wet towel.

Felix takes off his hoodie and hands it to you, "here, wear this," he says.

You take it from him without thinking, it's the only right option. He turns around to let you change your clothes.

"Are you mad?" Felix asks.

His question sounds so loud in this bathroom that is bigger than your bedroom. Other than that, you hear the sheer anxiety in his words.

"I'm not mad, Felix," you shorty reply.

You take a second to put on his hoodie and fix it while looking at the mirror, "You can turn around now!" You tell him.

He turns around and puts his hand against the sink, leaning his body to one side.

"But...?"

He knows you well that no detail is missed from you, "I was just a little taken aback," you honestly tell him.

He stares at you, making sure you're being honest and you let him see it in your eyes.

"If you feel pressured to do so but couldn't tell Vin, you can just tell me," he says as he takes a step toward you.

You shake your head and toss your unsalvaged t-shirt into the trash bin unintentionally hard, "are you kidding me?"

Felix gets startled that he reels to the back, "What?"

"What makes you think I'll pass the chance to go on a road trip with you and get paid for it?" You put both of your hands on his chest and playfully shove him away.

"I don't think so," you add with a playful grin.

His face loosens at your answer, he pulls you into a hug but you're fast to avoid it. You walk past him and stumble out of the bathroom, running away from him.

Felix catches you with his arms around your waist and you squeal as he lifts you off the floor.

"Put me down!"

"No!" He refuses, tightening his arms around you instead.

You hit his arms to force him to let you go but he's starting to spin you around as if you haven't just vomited a few minutes ago.

"Can you guys get out of the way?"

Both of you turn your heads at the same time to see Hyunjin with his annoyed face, waiting for any of you to make a way for him.

"Sorry," you meekly say and get to the other side with Felix.

"There's another bathroom..." Before Felix can finish his sentence, Hyunjin is already inside the bathroom.

Felix shrugs, "he probably needs to go number 2!"

As your eyes meet again, both of you burst into laughter at the same time.

The after-party is still going but it's past midnight and you're booked tomorrow, "I have to go home," you tell Felix.

He starts groaning, fussing like a child, "stay a little longer," he pleads with an adorable pout.

"I am booked for a job tomorrow," you share, and that the job requires you to be there earlier than the appointed time.

He pouts more it's forming into duck lips and you put your hand over it, slowly pushing him away.

"I have to go," you groan back.

He holds both of your hands, looking defeated.

"I'll have Lou drive you home," he says.

"No!" You strongly refuse, "I'm sure he's tired already."

"I'll drive you then," he offers with a flirty wink.

He's so relentless it's silly, you laugh and push him away from you, "I'll take a taxi home, the hotel reception can get one for me," you tell him.

You make a quick trip around to say bye to everyone, well, just a few of them that you know.

"Hey, I'm still glad that you came," Han says as he waves back at you.

"See you on tour!" Lou says to you with a quick, side hug.

This feels nice, this feels like you're welcomed even though the tour hasn't begun yet. Part of it is because Hyunjin is still out of your sight until you leave the suite. Well, you don't have to worry about him until next month.

Felix insists on sending you off, he comes to the hotel lobby with you and waits for your taxi to arrive.

He intertwines his hand with yours on his lap, "It'll be fun!"

Felix is filled with giddiness after he made sure you fully agreed to join the tour.

"We'll have so much fun!"

His gleeful grins are so child-like, you can't say no to his wishes when he's adorable like this.

"Are you that happy?" You jokingly ask.

He enthusiastically nods his head like a puppy.

You can't help but smile. The hotel doorman informs you that the taxi has arrived. You both get up from the chairs and exchange a hug.

"You were so great today, Felix! I'm so proud of you," you've been wanting to tell him that and make sure he hears it well, he has to know that he's doing great.

It seems that he doesn't expect to hear that from you but you feel his hand squeezes your shoulder.

"See you soon!" He finally utters something after what you said to him, then pulls away.

You wave your hand at him before exiting the hotel and sigh the moment you get into the taxi. A month feels so long, so far when excitement fills you to the brim.

A month couldn't come sooner.

-

It feels nice to be home and be in the comfort of your bed.

You pick up your phone to set an alarm since you have to wake up early for a job tomorrow. There's a notification and you click on it to see the photo Lou posted on his Instagram with your handle tagged on it.

Turns out, Lou has his fans as his followers count can grant him an influencer status. You scroll down his social media page to see the photos he has posted and they're mostly the photos he took of the band, random bits, here and there.

There's one photo of Hyunjin eating a donut with a box full of it sitting on his lap with his hair still dark and tied into a tiny ponytail that formed a little palm tree on the top of his head.

"Flour boy," Lou captioned it and a chuckle escapes your mouth.

You slap yourself on the face to remind yourself that you're holding a grudge against him and the next thing you know, you fall into the rabbit holes of things you should have done or said to him, making scenarios in your head until you can't take it anymore.

You can't go to sleep like this, not when the last thing on your mind is that annoying red-haired flour boy. You're flipping through your vinyl collections to check if you have what you're looking for.

Everyone knows that album artwork of a painting of a banana by Andy Warhol but you're not sure if you ever bought it.

Giving up, you end up looking for the album on your phone and play the same song Hyunjin was listening to as you knocked his phone down.

You sit down on the carpeted floor listening to the song playing the intro of the song then you hear a girl starts singing...

"Here she comes

You better watch your step

She's going to break your heart in two

It's true..." 

-

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#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids fics #skz fics #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz x reader #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #kpop smut #seospicy smut #on tour series

[uluvjay]

Plum- J. Drysdale

Jamie Drysdale x fem! Reader

In which the ducks anniversary jerseys are looking very good on your boyfriend.

Warnings?; SMUT, breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex(Wear protection!), pet names, cursing, kissing, those fucking plum jerseys, talks of starting a family, I can’t think of more

Part of my 1kcelly:)

You hadn’t been able to sit still since he left the house dressed in the plum colored Jersey. The way it complimented his pale skin and dark hair had his eyes appearing brighter and jaw sharper.

You had always found the jerseys appealing ever since he told you that was what the team would be going with for their 30th anniversary.

But what you weren’t expecting was just how good he looked in said jersey. When he walked out of your shared bedroom wearing the jersey over a hoodie and a pair of joggers for the Ducks community event, you had just about dropped to your knees for him right then and there.

"Baby I'm home" you heard his voice call from the entry way of your new home, finally getting somewhat rid of Trevor allowing some more privacy.

"Living room!" you shouted back, acknowledging the boy of your whereabouts.

Strutting in still clad in the plum jersey he leaned down to give you a kiss in greeting, "Hi baby" he smiled when you two separated.

“Hi” you muttered out before hastily pulling the boy back down to your lips.

Jamie groaned as he felt you attempting to deepen the kiss, your nails had slipped into his hair and tugged at his dark roots causing Him to open his mouth in a gasp, allowing your tongue to enter his mouth.

“Mm, baby. What’s all this for?” He asked as he pulled away for air.

“Missed you” you whined as he pulled back when you tried to bring him down again.

“Missed me? Baby we’ve been together al-“ the boy cut himself off as he finally took a full look at you. Your thighs were clenched, lip slightly pouted and red, and your eyes were darkening with blown out pupils.

“Ohh, I get it. You just want some attention huh baby? Tell me what got you all worked up” he teased as he sat next to you and pulled you onto his lap.

“S embarrassing” you mumbled, face buried in his neck.

“How so?” He laughed, his hands running up and down your thighs smirking at the shiver that ran down your spine.

Playing with the strings of his hoodie you finally admitted just what had gotten you so turned on, “The damn jersey was the first thing and then I kept seeing videos of you all over Twitter playing with kids and holding babies, and god do you look good with a baby in your arms. It was quite unfair really” you grumbled into his chest.

Jamie smirked at your words, the two of you had been talking about kids for a long time but you knew it wasn’t the right time. But that didn’t stop the two of you from fucking like bunnies every time one of your breeding kinks kicked in.

Jamie tangled a hand in your hair to pull you head away from his chest, causing a whine to escape your throat at the pain. “You just want me to fuck you full huh baby?” He mocked as he felt you grind against him.

You let out a pathetic whimper in response, hips rolling against his in attempt to settle the ache between your legs.

“Please Jamie..” you breathed

“Take your pants off for me” he spoke before lifting his own hips to pull down his pants and boxers.

His hard cock springing out from the restricting material he wrapped his hand around it and slowly jerked himself while he waited for you to take your place on his lap.

“Come here baby” he called a hand reaching for one of you own to pull you on top of him.

He pulled you into a heated kiss, one that had your breath hitching and yearning for more when he pulled away for air.

“Jamie..” you breathed but he cut you off with soft shushes as he angled you over his cock.

“It’s okay baby, just breathe for me-there you go, good girl” he worked you through the stretch of your cunt from his cock.

“Shit Jamie, you’re so big” you cried at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you.

A shiver ran down Jamie’s back as he slowly started to guide you up and down his cock by your hips, a slow and sweet pace.

He placed his head in your neck, lips sucking and nipping along your warm skin. He loved the way your body reacted to him, his cock coaxing whines from your throat while your manicured nails dug into the fabric of his plum jersey.

“Doing so good for me baby, such a good girl” he praised.

He loved fucking you slow but he couldn’t hold off much longer, he was getting close and he needed something more.

Pinning you against his chest with his arms locked behind your back, he positioned his feet against your coffee table before thrusting his hips into you at an unforgivable pace.

“Oh! Shi-Jamie” you mindlessly babbled at the new pace. His cock hit all the right places, his tip brushing right against your g-spot.

Your toes curled as you could feel the tightness forming in your lower stomach, cried becoming louder and louder.

“Shit I’m getting close baby” he groaned into your hair.

“Me to Jamie-fuck! Come for me please baby.” You encouraged the man beneath you, fingers slipping into his dark locks.

He brushed wet kisses along the skin of your bare shoulder before he sucked in a deep breath at the euphoric feeling washing over him.

“I’m coming” he shivered, spilling his seed deep inside your clenching core.

He could tell you were almost there by the way your walls were clenching around him tighter and tighter as he continued to thrust up into you, sharp breaths and whines coming from your throat.

“I’m coming Jamie!” You cried into his neck as you felt the shiver run down your spine and shaking of your thighs be unbearable.

You two sat like that for a moment, his hands running along your back while he placed loving kisses to the side of your head.

“I guess I should wear the plum jersey more often eh?” He teased.

“Shut up” you laughed placing a light slap to his arm.

-

#jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #anahiem ducks #anaheim ducks #jays1kcelly

[doobea]

✰⋆⁺★ I SURRENDER ALL OF ME ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: choso takes a lot of things seriously - this includes childhood promises and vows.

contents: very fluffy, sfw, no curse AU, childhood friends to lovers, gn!reader, death jokes thrown around, umm just imagine the rest of the curses as humans LOL, sorry mahito - ur interesting word count: 1.4k a/n: bye this meant to be a small drabble but ended up being semi lengthy... sorry i havent been active as much ;;

Two fruit punches, a full bag of grapes, and four sandwich halves in a colorful lunch box sit between you and Choso. It isn't until it's down to one fruit punch, half of bag of grapes, and three sandwich halves left that you decide to build up the courage to blurt out a burning question.

"Do you want to get married?"

Your best friend doesn't bat an eye at your inquiry as he finishes the remainder of his drink and rips off a piece of crust from his meal, tossing bits of it into the pond in front of him. The moment a flock of ducks fight over the the pieces, he answers.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Yeah, but—" Heat rushes to your cheeks as you force the next words. "Do you want to get married to me?"

This time, Choso turns his head and tilts it, eyebrows creasing and the birthmark on his nose scrunches just ever so slightly. The eight year old looks mildly offended that you even asked that.

"I only want to be with you," he proclaims with all the vigor that a child has. Then, with another chunk of crust thrown in the pond, Choso continues with all seriousness. "But you need a ring to propose, right?"

"I..." you trail off, fumbling with your empty juice box as you try and search for the right words.

To be honest, you didn't expect that response from Choso. If he isn't interested, he would've your question, and that would be that.  It isn't like you two can actually get married anyway.  And yet, watching Choso fiddling around with the patch of grass next to him, examining and ripping the longest blade he can find, you can't help but to anticipate a response from him.

Choso looks satisfied with himself when he raises the makeshift ring in your face. You only had a split second to inspect the 'jewelry' before his voice rings in your ears. "Will you marry me?"

You find yourself answering without much second thought. "Yes."

Both of you hold onto your breaths as he slides it on. It's not the perfect size, a bit too big for your finger, but there's a little bow at the top that's tied with a small yellow dandelion. Your chest swells with happiness and did the next thing that an eight year old would do - you lean in and press your lips to Choso's cheek, the way you've seen your parents do to each other hundreds of times.  When you pull back, Choso is staring, cheeks inflamed.

You smile brightly at him. 

You're going to kill Satoru and Suguru.

They just had to decide that a maid and butler themed cafe wasn’t going to raise enough money for the college fundraiser this year. They both just had to decide to set up another booth, and not just any booth — a kissing booth.

And Satoru, for some reason, thought it would be funny to put you in charge.

You're not entirely sure how the rest of the elective board approved of this idea. And you're still not entirely sure why you have to wear a stuffy uniform along with it.

You're going to kill Suguru first, and then give Satoru a slow painful death.

"Pfft, oh my god!"

No, scratch that. You're going to kill every student that comes up to this dumb booth. The first victim starting with Mahito.

Your stomach churns as you watch him and his little group of friends trail behind him, edging closer to the booth with a wide grin plastered across his face.

It takes every fiber in your body to not physically lunge forward and punch him. Getting this booth shut down not even ten minutes in would have you running around the track field as part of Suguru's punishment. You're ignoring the sweat trailing down the back of your neck and pray that Mahito isn't serious about putting his lips anywhere near you.

"Fuck off," As long as it's not physical, you plan to verbally assault him as much as you can.

You force yourself to look pass Mahito and sneer at the rest of his friends. It doesn't surprise you to see all of their lips quivering, trying their best to not just burst out laughing in the middle of the campus courtyard, which they're all failing miserably at. All of them are giggling to themselves like middle schoolers but one man.

His eyes catches yours, looking mildly unfazed before tired eyes suddenly widening at recognition. You have to do a double take and, upon closer inspection, you let out a small noise at the sight of the distinguishable birthmark on his face.

"Choso?" You haven't seen him since he moved away several years ago. Who knew he would've ended up at the same university as you, let alone hang out with an annoying guy like Mahito.

Before he could even respond back, Mahito begins fishing for something in his bag. Then, your worst nightmare comes to life as he pulls out a fucking wallet. You're mentally preparing yourself to throw up on the spot, then calling your club presidents announcing your leave as treasurer, then killing yourself. That is, until Choso slams down a couple of bills of his own.

You take a moment to process what just happened before staring bewilderedly at your childhood friend, who just kept a straight look.

"What the fuck?" The voice comes from Mahito.

"That's cheating," Choso begins and now you're really confused.

"You guys are dating?" Another voice chimes in, you think it belongs to Jogo.

With a firm head shake, Choso responds, "Married, actually."

You can't tell if this is his way of protecting you from Mahito but you go along with the act anyway.

"Married." Mahito repeats slowly.

"Married." Choso confirms.

Then, the other male points a finger at your direction. "Since when?"

You smile. "Since we were kids."

You awkwardly clear your throat, stuffing your uniform in your bag as you stride out of the bathroom back in your regular clothes. Choso greets you right outside with a subtle smile, signs of his friends from earlier gone and the small shoebox in his hands, the one specially for today's event, has a total of twenty dollars. Twenty of his dollars and zero kisses were made.

According to Suguru math, that's, like, ten miles around the track field.

"Thank you, I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there," you finally speak after he offers to walk you back to your dorm.

"Technically it would've been cheating," Choso jokes nonchantlanly.

You snort, shoving the male just slightly along the empty gravel path. "Well, you're a terrible husband because I haven't heard from you in over a decade."

Choso winces, rubbing his neck and mumbling a soft, "Sorry, I forgot to ask for your house number before my family moved."

Choso has always been relatively quiet as a kid, and even now you can still see that he keeps to himself by some of his habits, but your days spent throughout middle school to high school were relatively much quieter without him by yourself. Thankfully, he saved your ass today, so you suppose you can spare Choso's life for now.

"Social media is free, you know?" You tease back.

He laughs. "Didn't get my first phone until second year of high school, and that year I found out I had a half-sibling."

You stretch your eyes wide, almost tripping over your feet, and then your gapping mouth evolves into a smile. "Okay, wow—that's huge news, I guess I can forgive you for that."

"He's a senior in high school, might be thinking about coming here next year."

"He similar to you?"

Choso shakes his head and looks fondly ahead. "Livelier. Kinda like jock but one of the nice ones."

After rounding a corner, you speak again, eyes now glued to his messy pigtail buns. "Your hair is cute, you've always kept it down as a kid."

Choso self-consciously runs a hand over his scalp, tints of pink paint over his face. "Thanks."

You decide to be bold and interlock your arm with his. You watch closely as his body flinches at the contact but he doesn't pull away, doesn't say a word.

Your stomach does a few threatening somersaults. "I thought about you almost everyday, you know?"

For a moment, Choso says nothing and you're starting to wonder if you're going to be left in suspense but, after he reaches to the steps of your dorm building, he says, "Me too."

You elicit a sigh of relief and tug his arm closer. "So, you planning to start walking me to classes and getting lunch every day now?"

Choso brushes the hair out of your eyes before resting his forehead against yours. "If that's what will make me a good husband, then yes."

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

#doobea writing #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #MY BOYFRIEND <3

[roosterforme]

Daddy Would Say Yes | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you manage to embarrass yourself in front of Rooster, he still makes it clear he wants you to ask him out.

Warnings: Fluff and swearing and calling Rooster Daddy

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request! Check out my masterlist for more!

If you were lucky, Friday nights at the Hard Deck were just a little hectic. If you were unlucky, you were responsible for splitting up fights. And if you were very unlucky, you had to dodge grabby hands while you served up drinks at the bar.

But you still loved your job, as crazy as it was. Especially when you got to throw some of the guys with grabby hands 'overboard'.  

But tonight was Friday the 13th and a full moon. So you were certain your luck would either be very good or very bad today. 

You decided to use the time before your shift started to take a walk along the beach, since you'd be trapped behind the bar for hours later. It was beautiful out, sunny and warm with a little bite to the windy air along the water. And as you neared the stretch of beach in front of the Hard Deck, you were beginning to think this might be your lucky day after all. 

The aviators, whom you recognized by their specific drink orders, were all out playing beach football. And the guys were shirtless. You felt your pace unintentionally slow down as you enjoyed the view before you. 

They were running around and kicking up the water along the shoreline, all laughing and playfully fighting to control the football. As you got closer, a few of them casually waved to you, seemingly recognizing you from work. 

"Holy shit," you muttered, looking at the one called Rooster and nearly choking on your own saliva.

"Heads up, babe!" he shouted to you, and luckily you managed to focus just in time to catch the stray football that was headed your way. "Nice catch!" he called out, making your cheeks warm up.

"Thanks," you said as Rooster ran over to you to retrieve it.

"You wanna come play?" he asked with a smile. You held the ball out to him, and his fingers brushed yours as he took the ball from you with a wink.

"No, I'm having a good time just watching," you promised him with a grin.

"Are you bartending later?" he asked, backing away very slowly as everyone started calling for him.

"Yeah, I'll be serving up your Heinekens all night long."

"See you then," he said with a salute in your direction.

You licked your lips as he turned back to the game. You didn't move as you watched Rooster's muscles flex when he waved his arm to try to get Coyote into position. He was so tan and buff, and maybe even more handsome outside in the sunlight. 

"You should just ask him out," Phoenix told you from a few feet away. "He's single."

You scoffed at the idea of it. "No way he'd say yes. He's a full snack. He's such a... Daddy." You were mortified as soon as the words left your mouth.

Rooster stopped and looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes taking in your entire body. "Daddy would say yes!" he called before throwing the ball to someone else.

Phoenix laughed heartily as you ducked your head in embarrassment. Instead of waiting to see what either of them had to say, you turned and power walked down the beach.

Once you were far enough away that you couldn't hear the aviators, you turned back and looked at them for a second. There was absolutely no way you'd be able to ask him out without embarrassing yourself further, so you headed toward the sidewalk, opting to walk back home a different way. 

------------------------------

The bar was packed, and you were overly warm in your Hard Deck Staff tee shirt and cutoff shorts, but so far there had been no fights and no rowdy guys. So the night was looking good. 

And then Rooster arrived, and the night was looking great. He strutted in wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt like he owned the place, which yeah, the aviators kind of did. You watched him hang his sunglasses from his white tank he had layered underneath the button down, and then he met your eyes. 

It took you a second to realize that the pint glass you were filling was overflowing onto your hand. "Shit," you muttered, handing the very full glass to the man who had ordered it. After you added it to the tab, you looked up to take another order, and Rooster had somehow squeezed his way up to the bar. 

"Hi," he rasped, a smug smile settling into place just below his mustache. 

You just narrowed your eyes a bit and asked him, "Can I get you a Heineken?"

He leaned his forearms on the bar and nodded, saying, "I love that you know my drink order."

"I know everybody's drink order," you replied, leaning on your forearms as well. But that was a mistake, because now you were dangerously close to him. You could see amber colored flecks in his brown eyes, and the slightly raised lines of his scars were so close, you could kiss them. "Phoenix drinks Moscow Mules. Payback likes Miller Lite. Hangman favors an old fashioned. Fanboy likes mojitos. And Bob always asks me politely for a ginger ale with no ice."

Rooster laughed and smirked at you. "You sure know how to make a guy feel special."

You just shrugged and pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge and uncapped it for him. "Add it to your tab?" 

"Please," he replied, taking a sip of his beer and settling into a vacant stool. You took some more drink orders, occasionally glancing his way. He looked so good. 

"You're going to hang out at the bar tonight?" you finally asked him as you sliced up some more limes, handing a cupful to Penny where she was working on the other side of the bar. 

He just ran his fingers through the condensation on the bottle. "Mmhmm. Hey, didn't you have something you wanted to ask me?" You looked up at his face, but he was the picture of innocence. You were pretty sure he was referring to you asking him out. You closed your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek, still mortified that you had called him Daddy. 

"Nope. Can't think of anything I needed to ask you," you managed to say with only a slight tremor to your voice. 

"Well, I can wait here until you think of something," he replied, nodding to Payback when he came up for another Miller Lite. 

"Aren't you going to the pool table with your little friends?" you asked, nodding after Payback as he walked away. 

"Not right now. I'm still waiting for you to ask me your question."

You were flustered now, trying to mash up mint leaves and pretend you weren't listening to him. 

"Are you gonna ask me?" He was a little quieter this time, and when you met his eyes, he didn't seem to be teasing you any longer.

"Not right now," you told him as the woman next to him ordered four gin and tonics. "But maybe later."

"Right," he replied with a pout, picking up his half empty bottle and heading for the pool table. The vacant stool was filled immediately, and you already kind of missed having him so close. 

You watched him pick up a pool cue and laugh with his friends while you shook and poured the drinks. 

"Can you hand me that Tito's?" Penny asked, breaking your focus away from Rooster. 

"Sure thing," you replied, handing her the requested bottle of vodka from your side. You took a few more drink orders, and then Rooster was back up at the bar, in another empty seat. 

"It's later. You got something to ask me yet?" 

"No," you said with a laugh as you collected his empty bottle. 

"Nothing? That's a damn shame," he told you with a little smirk. "How about you get another beer for Daddy. Maybe that will jog your memory."

You looked at him and bit your lip, desire pooling low in your belly. He really was making it clear he wanted you to ask him out, but it might be fun to play around a bit first. 

"Okay, Daddy."

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, he popped out of his seat with wide eyes and a ridiculous grin. 

"Where are you going?" you asked, reaching for his arm across the bar as he started to move.

"Gonna come back there and kiss you. Can't expect me to just stand here while you say that to me."

"No Daddys allowed behind the bar," you told him quietly with an innocent look on your face. 

You watched him tip his head back and groan, the veins in his tan, muscular neck straining. He looked at you and shook his head. "You're just teasing me now, baby," he said, reaching out to stroke your cheek. You were instantly melting into his touch, biting back a soft moan. 

You saw several people trying to flag you down to order drinks. You held up your hand and let them know you would be right with them, just as Penny turned your way.

"Rooster, we're busy! Quit flirting with my best bartender," she called out with a smile. 

"Aww, come on, Pen!" he whined loudly, still touching you. "She's so pretty!"

Penny just laughed, but you ducked your head away from him in embarrassment as someone else further down the bar wolf whistled. 

Rooster watched you open another beer for him and slide it across the bar, but you could barely meet his eye. He took the beer in one hand and then reached for your wrist to gently keep you in place. 

"I'll be at the pool table. You better have a question for me before the end of the night, baby."

You just nodded and bit your lip again as he walked away. You stole a few glances at each other, but you didn't have a chance to stop by the pool table. The bar was swarmed with too many people for you to take a break. 

--------------------------

Bradley glanced at you from time to time. His body had felt alive when he touched you, and your voice made him smile every time you spoke to him. He was going to be very disappointed if you didn't ask him out. He wouldn't mind if you happened to call him Daddy again while you were at it. 

Jesus, you were adorable and funny. Bradley never gave you much thought romantically until earlier this afternoon, but he was definitely thinking now. Sure, he liked looking at you, but probably most of the guys here did. He'd helped carry a few handsy guys out of the bar for you since you'd been working here. He knew you could draw a crowd. But now you were drawing him in, and he wanted your attention in the worst way.

It was nearly last call, and Bradley hadn't been back up to the bar. Things were finally quieting down, and most of his friends had already left. He gathered some empty bottles and glasses in his hands and walked them up to the bar to save you a trip. 

Your eyes found his right away as you wiped down the bartop. "Thanks," you whispered with a smile when he set them down. 

"I'm heading out," he told you, nodding toward the door. Your eyes went a little wide as he added, "Getting late. Maybe you'll think of something to ask me another night."

"You're leaving already?" you asked, planting your elbows on the bar and leaning toward him. 

He laughed. "Yeah, it's almost last call. Can't hang around all night."

You were chewing on your lip, and he found himself leaning toward you as well. What would you do if he just kissed you? He wondered if you'd move away or move closer. 

When Penny crossed the bar and leaned on her elbows next to you, Bradley could feel himself blushing.

"What did I tell you earlier, Rooster? Now I'm going to put you to work," Penny said with a wink. She turned toward you and said, "Take him back with you, and have him carry the heavy stuff." 

You slipped out from behind the bar and took Bradley by the hand, and he would have followed you anywhere.

"You're in trouble," you sang over your shoulder. "Now you have to carry all the heavy bottles back to the bar for me." You nudged open the Staff Only door and led him inside. 

He waited until the door shut behind him to tell you, "I don't mind one bit. I actually think I could help you with a lot of things."

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as you turned toward him with your eyebrows raised and your lips parted. "Okay then, put those muscles to work, Daddy," you said softly with a slight tremor in your voice that made him wild. "You like flaunting them so much, I'm sure I'm not the only one who notices."

The smile fell off his face as he backed you up against the wall. He was so turned on by you. "You gonna keep calling me Daddy?"

Your voice was still soft and unsure now. "Unless you don't want me to. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

He leaned on one forearm next to your head as you waited for him to answer. "Do I look uncomfortable to you?" he whispered with a grin, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. 

"No," you replied, leaning a bit closer as he withdrew his hand from your mouth. You had his heart racing now.

"Too bad you forgot your question," he murmured, dipping his mouth a little closer to yours and reveling in the little sound you made. 

"Rooster?" 

"Ask me, baby."

"Do you want to go out to dinner with me, Daddy?" Your voice was teasing, but your eyes were sincere.

He grinned at you, watching you buzz with anticipation now. "I'd love to," he whispered, tipping your chin up for him to kiss you softly. In an instant, your arms were around his neck, and your body was flush against his. When you moaned softly, Bradley slipped his tongue between your lips and tasted you. Your warm, welcoming mouth was soon open and gasping for air as Bradley worked his lips and mustache down along your neck.

"Tomorrow night? My treat," he whispered, next to your ear.

You agreed and then kissed him hard, your fingers threading through his hair. After a few minutes of making out and nearly knocking over a shelf of expensive tequila, Bradley picked up a heavy crate of liquor for you. When you hooked your fingers through his belt look and led him back to the bar like you did this all the time, he tried his best to hide his smile. 

But the grin that Penny bestowed on the two of you was so smug as Bradley tried to distract you from restocking the bar by nipping and kissing your neck.

"I knew this would be my lucky night," you told him with a smirk as he wrapped his arms around you. "I'll bet tomorrow will be even better."

-------------------------

Thanks for reading about Daddy Rooster!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: WE MADE IT TO CHAPTER FIVE!! EVERYBODY CLAP!! labour of love fr <3 but we're almost to the scene that sparked the whole freakin series and i. oh man im just yearning for that hurt/comfort

word count: 4.4k

synopsis: You test out if your efforts with the tonics are worth anything and Azriel bestows you with a gift. He asks about the Blood Rite and you ponder the strange, golden thread you've been feeling in your chest. Disaster strikes when night falls.

CHAPTER FIVE :: CONFIDANTS

You look younger in your sleep, Azriel thinks.

He doesn't think he's ever seen you like this before. The hard lines of your face are all smoothed out as you rest, so unlike your usual expression. There's something softer about you.

The constant furrow between your brows is whisked away for once. He can still see the familiar line between your brows though, if he looks close enough.

If he can look past the bruises that mottle your face, that is.

The damage you've sustained from training within the camp is severe enough to curdle something sour in his stomach.

Azriel had held his reservations about his trip back to Velaris— a suspicion that proved to be well founded. His own memories of training at Windhaven provide plentiful ways for you to have ended up in this state.

You’re curled up instinctively in your sleep, wings tucked around yourself. It sews of thread of worry through Azriel's chest, a slight concern at the state of your wounds and how the position will agitate them. While you don't move much in your sleep, he knows from experience that it'll be hell when you finally do stretch back out.

But... he can’t bring himself to wake you. You need the sleep desperately.

Azriel is fairly certain that the huddled form you take is some subconscious way to protect yourself, even in your sleep. Your wings drape across yourself, keeping yourself covered, hidden.

And while that makes some part of Azriel's heart ache, he can't deny that you—it looks… sort of cute.

Azriel forces himself to avert his eyes, ducking his chin for extra measure. Those pesky thoughts were becoming more and more frequent — something that he's pointedly ignoring at this point.

Protect, his shadows whirl around his ears like tiny gusts of wind, whispering their suggestions. Protect, they whisper.

Protect. Both a thought and a feeling. A guiding intuition that seems to reverberate from his very bones.

The suggestion from his shadows isn't entirely left field either, as they always take inspiration from what he can see. From his wandering thoughts, from his prolonged gentle gaze that lays upon you whenever he can.

Azriel scowls lightly at himself. He had no claim to protect you and further more, most Illyrian males like yourself would take great amounts of offence to the mere insinuation. He knows that you are more than capable.

He steals another glance at your peaceful, sleeping figure and his shadows seem to quieten in response— at least about you. The whispers don't ever truly quieten.

Azriel's fairy certain where they're getting their ideas. It's what he wonders too as he takes in your battered face once more—whether it’s the truth or just his familiar brand of desperate hope.

Something that would explain the urge to protect beyond reason.

Something like... a bond forged in starlight.

The Mother's Kiss whistles quietly outside and Azriel shifts his gaze again and this time, it lays upon the Heartstriker.

Sitting atop the one table-top in your shelter, the blade stays sheathed away in the very same bejeweled case that Azriel had found it in. Same as on that very first day he laid his hands on it.

It had been a wretched mission. One of his very first. It was not performed with the eloquence he would come to learn in future years.

Heartstriker had not been the objective of the mission. Far from it, in truth. The objective was a simple stealth reconnaissance into the Court of Nightmares.

He was to delve beneath the rock of the mountain in a mission very similar to his current. Swirlings of rumours and whispers of rebellion, against the new Highlord. Azriel was there to learn who had the guts to pick up the knife and try.

Heartstriker was a ploy. A shiny trick that Azriel had not yet learned how to evade.

He was still a novice by his own standards, only a few hundred years old. Spying in this sense was still fresh, still new. The work he had done under Rhysand's father during the war had been far more reliant on his brute strength. He had strict instructions not to hesitate to draw his blade.

It had taken time to relearn the importance in a message sent with words.

To remember the power of mercy.

This mission had been the first and only time Azriel had underestimated the measures in place in the Court of Nightmares, meant to keep out the likes of him.

His hesitance to kill had given another Fae time to trip an alarm, to flood the room with warriors. So when he had been backed into a corner by the snarling miscreants that lived in the belly of the mountain, taken by surprise, he hadn't hesitated to snatch up any weapon he could reach.

And it had branded him, singeing him right to his core.

But when he tried to force his fingers apart, they wouldn't obey, even as they screamed with the pain of the invisible flames. It was as though his hand had become fused with the blade, each atom of his being completely joined with the bronze of the sword through a terrible, unstoppable and invisible force.

Every part of him shrieked in agony. An age-old fear reared up within him, his hands burning like they were set alight and he could feel the flames licking at his skin, at his hands, could smell the scent of burning flesh—

He had fought on and won, all the same, taking on two battles at once. Fighting foes by real and faux, all whilst burning up from within all the while. The sword was immeasurably heavy and yet too light, all at once.

And only once almost all his enemies were slain, their blood staining the marble floors, did the burning cease. The blade seem to hum in response to the battle— drawn to the final foe who was clawing for his breath through his blood-soaked throat.

The tip of the sword had urged Azriel forward, like pulled by an invisible string, and he let it lead him, plunging the blade through the chest and into the heart of the last enemy left.

Only after, had the humming stopped. The sword finally clattered from Azriel's strong grip, the fusion broken.

His hands were same as ever, mottled with their scars, but with no indication of the burning he knew he had felt.

On his return, Rhys had told him the history of the sword and it's duly fitting name: Heartstriker.

It hadn't been claimed in centuries and as such, naturally it had come to live amongst other cursed objects within the Court of Nightmares. Unable to be used, unless someone bested the pain it took to raise it.

But Azriel had, entirely by accident.

It is said that once mastered, it will always strike true. Rhys had said, violet eyes gleaming as he looked over the bronze sword with piqued interest. That it's more than a regular sword but a living thing you must work in tandem with.

If anyone tries to take it from you, they must suffer the same fate. It can be gifted freely but, He had paused, that smirk that held no warmth in it pulling at his lips. I'm sure you can guess how often that happens down there.

It hadn't been used within the Night Court either, condemned to another hundred years or so without sight of battle. Azriel had more than enough blades of his own. The Illyrian broadsword that he had earned all that time ago in the Blood Rite for a proper battle and his Truth-Teller for the finer details.

Heartstriker wasn't right for his stature. Too short, strange weighted.

He'd kept it all the same. Perhaps, he told himself, to keep some other Fae from suffering the same fate if they laid hands on it.

His hazel eyes drift back across to you, bundled within yourself. You make a noise in your sleep, a gentle snuffle, and Azriel finds himself smiling.

Or perhaps, he thinks, he knew to keep it for entirely other reasons.

—

The quick healing of Illyrian's is more often a blessing than it is a curse.

On today's quiet winter morning, it is somehow both.

When you wake, dragged from your slumber in the early hours, it's before the sun has begun to make an appearance on the horizon. The shelter is coated in a soft darkness of dawn. The trees sway outside, a thousand creatures still roaming amongst their branches, reliant on the dark before daylight breaks.

It's the pain that wakes you, ebbing in through your sleep til it shakes off your sleep. You wake with your teeth already gritted.

The only pleasant surprise is that fact you're not shuddering yourself awake out of a nightmare, especially considering yesterday's training session.

You have a feeling that it has something to do with the sleeping Illyrian, propped up beside the fireplace, keeping watch.

His shadows still move about, even in his sleep. His neck is tucked down, his forehead pressed against his knee. It hides away part his face but as your eyes adjust to the shadowy light, you can make out his closed eyes. His hair looks messier than you've ever seen it.

It can't be comfortable, sleeping the way he is— but you have a feeling that Azriel has slept in places far worse before.

Shifting about in the darkness, your hand comes down to press tenderly at your sides, assessing as quietly as you can. There's no immediate sting of sliced skin as your fingers tips poke and prod at the skin, which makes you sigh in relief. You press down again, at bit harder this time, and it forces a wince out your gritted teeth.

Extremely bruised. But at the very least, the skin has knitted itself together in the nighttime.

Your face still aches, too. It's not quite the same ringing that made both eyes throb painfully yesterday and with a slow wrinkle of your nose, you can assess that the worst of your broken nose has healed up too.

Your ears, however, poses a different problem. One of them, the right side, still rings lightly. It would be more concerning, you think, if the left one itself wasn't so muffled altogether.

Huffing out a breath, you drag yourself up to a sitting position, moving at a tentative pace. Pain ricochets around your body. You're doing the best you can to be quiet but it's futile it seems — there's one creak of the bed as your weight shifts and Azriel's wings twitch, giving him away. He’s awake.

He lifts his head slowly, letting it roll from one side to the next, stretching out his neck. It's the only indication he gives you of feeling sore from his cramped sleep all night, his attentive eyes already watching you closely. His shadows, you notice, seem to gain speed at his rousing— circling his shoulders and neck closely.

You clear your throat and focus your gaze forward, resuming the task at hand. Raising one hand, you snap your fingers beside your left ear, then your right.

Frustration bubbles up inside you as you repeat the motion, as if it’ll change the outcome.

It doesn’t.

At least beyond the ringing, your right ear can hear the snap clearly— a keen Fae sense that like any warrior, you rely heavily on. The left one…

All you can think is that they must have hit you pretty damn hard to leave it as dulled as it feels. It can still hear, thankfully, but the noise that filters through is muffled around the edges. Buzzy. It makes you feel off kilter and unbalanced.

You let your hand drop and try to remain stoic, so used to hiding your emotions away from your face. You don't realise your drooping, limp wings give you away anyways.

Azriel gets to his feet swiftly, the movement so smooth you would have never guessed he spent the night tucked up uncomfortably against the bricks of your fireplace. He regards you with those burning amber eyes and your heart seems to lurch forward in response. You avert your gaze.

"It would seem we have an opportunity to test out our efforts." He says. His voice is still coated in sleep, low and rumbley, and it sends a bright zing down your spine. You lift your gaze from your lap and raise your brows in question.

He waves a hand to the table, in gesture.

Your various ingredients for brewing the tonics stay tucked in one corner, some wrapped up and set beneath the table. There are several different bottles too, stoppered with corks and containing yours and Azriel's attempts at the healing tonics.

It takes another moment to understand what he means.

"No," You say sharply, climbing to your feet. A thousand parts of your ache and groan in protest and you channel your focus into not letting a single ounce of it show.

Rolling your tense shoulders back, you wander towards your armor in slow steady steps. "Those aren't for me. I've healed enough in the night."

"I see." Azriel replies. "Is that why your left ear isn't working right?"

Gaze snapping back to him, you curse his ever-so observant nature. Maybe that's on you for trying to keep a secret from a Shadowsinger.

You are keeping a secret from a shadowsinger, something whispers in you.

A cold flush fills your body, numbing out every nerve for a single moment. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your wings hike up, tuck in. It feels wrong.

For the first time in your life, it feels so so utterly wrong to be keeping this secret from someone. To be hiding who you truly are.

But Azriel... he was a stranger not too long ago, wasn't he? You're not sure if you can even call each other friends, even if you had begun to in your mind, without even realising.

You think back to last night, to when he could have easily lifted your shirt a few inches higher when trying to save your life and known.

Then you wonder if he did — and he hasn't said anything.

If he's waiting for you to trip up, to fess up, to explain to him why you've been lying to him from the moment you first met him.

Azriel seems to sense your internal battle, the same way he seems senses a thousand things from you as though he's known you his whole life. He clears his throat to get your attention. When you focus your vision back on him, you notice one of the bottles is in his scarred fingers.

"I will train you today," He says. "On the condition that you take it."

Your nose twitches. It's an ultimatum. He knows you want to train, to brush off yesterday and let the pain in your body fuel the determination of today but he won't let you do it so carelessly. Bastard.

Before you can blink, he tosses the bottle across to you. You react instinctively, cradling your hands to catch it quickly before you realise what you're doing. Your nose twitches again, a tiny flare of annoyance at his smugness.

No, not smugness. Surety. His expression, bordering on bored, tells you that he knows you don't have any other options— unless you want to climb back into bed and rot for the day.

You yank the cork off the bottle harshly. Then, just to show him how unpleased you are with this, you lob the cork at him with all your might. Your bruised side screams in response. Azriel snatches from the air easily, without so much as a blink.

He looks like he wants to smile but thinks the better of it, placing the cork gently onto the table. "I'll meet you outside." He eyes the uncorked bottle in your hand then back at you. "Drink it. Please."

—

The tonic, as you find out, is only mildly effective.

It's a gutting discovery. The mixture is nowhere near potent enough to fix the level of nerve damage that gets inflicted during clippings if it barely lightens the bruises on your side.

The mottled blue painted on your skin gives way to a light purple, the edges of them retracting to a tinged yellow. The skin glows hot as the tonic works as best as it can.

The taste of it is nearly as rancid as the failure feels.

You deal with it the only way you know how; chewing it up and spitting it back out as determination to do better. The drive to push yourself harder in training rears up, fiery and stubborn— harder than you logically know is any help to yourself.

What was already tedious and heinous training is made that much worse by your injuries.

You're moving sloppily today, offbeat. The dullness in your left ear helps to keep you off balance. Still, you manage to keep up with Azriel— not quite the one step ahead you're usually aiming for but, at the very least, you're still holding your own.

Your ribs ache and your heads throbs. The ringing in your right ear has disappeared with the help of the tonic, only to have started up in the left. A relief in one sense— it's good to be hearing more of anything. A fucking pain in another.

The only major upside, really, is the sword.

The Heartstriker, Azriel had called it

You had been half convinced it was a hallucination, the gift. Sure that it some desperate illusion born out of the delirium of the blood loss because, really, when was the last time you had ever gotten a gift?

When you'd limped your way out into the snow and saw it in his hands, you had blinked in disbelief.

But it's almost like Azriel had expected it, his scarred hands reaching out to gently curl around your wrist, murmuring its name as he had pressed it into your hand. It's yours, he had said.

He had let go of your wrist go immediately, stepping back but not far, still hovering close by. He let you have a moment to marvel at it before he urged you to follow to the usual neck of the woods you trained in. The sound of clashing steel had soon followed.

It's a perfect addition, you find.

The blade is like a mere extension of your own arm. It's light enough to carve through the air with ease but when you strike, it's buries deep. Compared the Illyrian broadsword used in training at camp, it suits your stature far better. You move more agilely, hit more frequently and harder when you do.

It's probably the best thing you've ever owned— ever held.

You're gazing at it where it rests on your lap, glinting in the light of the day, as you try to catch your breath. Azriel had given you a moment to recover, far earlier than normal, due to your injuries, no doubt. Normally, you'd grumble and snarl and push him to continue but today, you're quite happy to have another moment to stare at the first gift you've gotten.

Azriel breaks the silence with a question.

"Why haven't you competed in the Blood Rite?"

Something icy spikes in your blood and your back straightens instinctively, the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end. Whether he knows it or not, he is treading close to dangerous territory.

"Why do you ask?" You answer his question with another question.

Azriel regards you with a certain look, his dark eyes dragging down your body intensely and back up to your face. It's enough to make you fluster momentarily, to feel a faint stirring in your heart that doesn't entirely feel like your own. No one has ever looked at you like that before.

"You're strong. You hold your own. You're of age." He states carefully. "You remain attached to this camp with no rank until you pass it. Why not?"

You scowl at his frame of thinking, as if you haven't passed over those reasons a thousand times. Beyond the fact you can't ever ensure you wouldn't be burdened with your cycle during the Blood Rite, there's more than enough reason for you to remain a nobody.

You feel oddly disappointed that he would think only in that manner; glory and rank.

"What makes you think I want any rank in my camp?" You spit bitingly, watching as his wings sink down an inch at your tone. His misunderstanding of why you've chosen this way of life bothers you more than you expect.

"Because you did?" You ask. "Because three bastards fought their way through it and won and left their shitty pasts behind? I am not you, Azriel."

Azriel doesn't react, not even the raising of his brows. Only his shadows give himself away, whirling around slower than usual. He speaks in that same careful tone as before.

"I know you are not."

He makes you feel foolish for giving in to any lick of your anger, for so quickly snapping at your only friend. You turn your head away and stare down into the snow, taking a breath. Cauldron, you're tired. Lifting you arm, you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, clearing the sweat that beads there.

"I could leave but for what reason? Ever since I—" You suck a sharp inhale, swallowing back words that dance too close to giving you away. You pray he doesn't notice your hesitation. "Ever since I was young, this has been my goal. This change must come from within, you know that."

You inhale again, feeling the breath rattle past every ache and pain in your chest.

"I can only do the things I do... the things I must achieve, by being unnoticeable."

You cast a glance up to him. "To them, I am some bastard who won't give up and die. I am not a proper threat. You, of all people, should understand that it's easiest to work when people are not paying proper attention."

And that's all you have known — how to become unnoticeable when needed and how to be noticed when wanted. Attention, you've learned, only means a target on your back.

Beyond that... you can't imagine someone who would want to notice you for anything more. You've had many, many years to make peace with that bitter fact.

I am.

Without warning, there's a sudden thrum from deep within you, like a echo of a drum, of a call. It's golden and threaded with softness. I am paying attention.

It startles you, one hand flying to your armored chest in surprise. As quick as it had appeared, the hum flees and leaves your bound chest twingeing only in its usual discomfort. One moment of brief serenity. You long for it, despite the unfamiliar nature.

You realise abruptly that you've trailed off and force yourself to move, body aching in the process. Heartstriker sinks into the snow and you use it to clamber to your feet, not nearly as graceful as you would like. Azriel doesn't say anything.

In fact, when you lift your gaze to meet his, he's staring at you more intensely than usual. His shadows seem more agitated. They flit about, circling his hands more than his shoulders, and you can barely see the scarred skin through their inky darkness.

There's a long moment. Around you both, the trees creek as they bend in the wind, a thousand leaves rustling around you in a chorus.

Azriel breaks the silence, casting his eyes to the ground and lifting his blade. "No more questions."

He says it like a promise, his lips pulling at the edges like he might be offering a smile.

"Just fighting."

—

By the time the moon rises, the ache in your body has dimmed to a more bearable pain.

While you'd be miffed at the idea of Azriel pulling his punches, you can't deny the sliver of gratitude you have for it now. As you reach over the cauldron of simmering stew, only a few of your ribs twinge enough to make your motions falter momentarily. The stew bubbles and brews, filling your shelter with a hearty smell.

It's been too long since you last cooked something to share.

You try to shelve the guilt away—you and Azriel have been running a very tight schedule, switching between training, tonics and rest. Taking time to cook, for yourself or others, hasn't even had time to cross your mind.

Your brief brush back with the reality during yesterday's training, however, had provided you with ample reminders. Your home camp and all its violent glory.

So, you cook. The logs crackle on the fire and above them, the stew simmers gently as you stir absentmindedly at it. Giving yourself this quiet moment, you let your thoughts drift as the tiredness of the day trickles into your body. Your thoughts turn to the quiet Shadowsinger.

He had taken his leave as soon as he had declared the end of your days training, needing another trip to Velaris.

I'll be back by morning, he had said, each of his seven cerulean siphons flaring brightly before he stepped between the fabric of the world and disappeared. Another hidden trick up his sleeve.

You'd allowed yourself only one moment of surprise before you closed your mouth— you really needed to stop underestimating him. As the stew before you begins to hiss and spit, you pull yourself from your thoughts and prepare yourself for the discomfort of meal times.

They never are as friendly as you might hope.

Despite your generosity, the different outcasts of Exordor remain cagey. Regard you with pensive and guarded looks, hands hovering on the butts of their swords. You can't blame them in the slightest.

But those that can brave the walk to your cabin, risking both themselves and your own safety against the other Illyrian brutes in the camp, are rewarded with a hot meal. Tonight, you feed 12 hungry mouths before your doorstep grows quiet.

You pack it all away in silence, with a quite yearning for company you've only just become used to having.

It's only as you're tucking in for the night, your wings wrapped around yourself tightly, does the first pain strike. Right to your core, the very insides of your gut feels as though it's being shredded. You gasp, your entire body curling up tighter to fight against the pain.

For only a moment, confusion clouds your mind at the attack that seems to come from nowhere, from an invisible enemy. Only one answer comes forward—the only thing that can threaten to reveal your secret without your permission, through mere scent alone.

A certain agony that only tortures you twice a year.

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #i have nothing to say but sorry it took more than a month!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!!!! #mwahmwah please forgive me #we're GETTING there #i just keep being dedicated to the backstory lmao #TOO dedicated

[hihhasotherfixations]

Kinktober Day 2: A/B/O - Price x Reader

Kinktober masterlist

CW: I wrote it gn, however, in my mind, all omegas have uteri. In other words, man, woman or gn, omegas have a cooch in order to make babeh. Sooo, it’s gn but with afab anatomy :3. Attempted assault (aka unwanted claiming – though not by Price), a/b/o dynamics, claiming, mating marks, unprotected p in v, possessiveness, praise, knotting, scenting

Word Count: 5602

This was supposed to be a drabble/short fic. Oops. Please keep in mind I won’t be writing long fics like this very much cause doing that every day is impossible, hence me posting this a day late and also at 4am :’)

But I hope you enjoy!! Cause I did have fun writing it UwU

Walking across the tarmac of base, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, a skittish feeling rising in your gut.

For the last few minutes, you’d felt as if you were being followed, your instincts going haywire, making you extra conscious of the scents in the air. And you had to, for you were an omega. 

With a world made up of 63% beta’s and 24% alphas, the omegas were usually left out or singled out. And it was dangerous.

Throughout history, omegas had been plentiful. There was an omega for every alpha, multiple even. But as time went on, it became less and less desirable to be an omega, causing for selective breeding- and mated pairs to be made. Where there once was an omega for every alpha, slowly it became a beta for every alpha – and with the influx of beta’s, alphas’ numbers too dwindled, leaving the world in the state that it was today.

And while the percentages had changed, instincts hadn’t.

Glancing over your shoulder, you finally saw it: a body ducking behind a wall too slow.

It was no secret that the military was a breeding ground for alphas, the high status individuals drawn to the hierarchy and power-filled environment. That however, left omegas like you.

Even with modern day medicine and modifications, instinct was something that was impossible to suppress, and the low amount of omegas left in the population caused for those instincts to go haywire in alphas.

Any unclaimed omega was at risk. It is why suppressants had been invented, to ensure the safety, choice and free will of all parties involved.

Hiding your scent with the suppressants and making you as invisible as a beta, you were supposed to go under the radar. And you had been. In your entire career in the military, everyone had thought you were a beta. There was only one person in your team who knew – your captain, Price.  But he never treated you differently for it.

Walking on, you repeated those words; ‘only Price knows, only Price knows’ like a mantra – but no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you were just paranoid, the man kept following you, causing your anxiety to raise.

Turning the corner to cut between buildings and get to the barracks quicker, you’d barely taken a step before your shoulder was grabbed and your body turned.

Harshly, you were pushed to the wall, your eyes wide as you looked at the black-haired, well-built man in front of you, his pupils dilated as he took you in - you were so deeply stuck in your head that you hadn’t heard him run up.

“Knew I smelt it.” He spoke lowly while his hands squeezed at your shoulders, confusing you while his form eclipsed yours. Before you could even open your mouth to ask what he meant, he leaned down to press his nose into the side of your neck where he sniffed, groaning in response.

Feeling that, your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the amount of pheromones he gave off, your nose clogging up and making you whimper on instinct.

That seemed to satisfy the man however, a low humming coming from him. “Unclaimed and walking around so shamelessly?” He grinned, pulling his face back as he instead placed a hand on your throat, keeping you under his thumb and pinned to the wall.

Your hands were on his chest, your breathing heavy and panicked. “Get off-“ You growled when he leaned back in, your right hand grabbing onto his face as you pushed his chin up, making the alpha growl in disdain.

“Stop that-“ He hissed the order, squeezing your throat which had your muscles freezing as his fingers pushed into your sensitive scent glands. It broke your focus long enough for him to grab your wrists and trap your arms together by your side, freeing himself up while his other hand stayed on your throat; commandeering. “Be a good omega and listen.” He huffed while nearly depriving you of all oxygen, your breaths small and weak.

Your mind however was spinning. He called you an omega. He was clearly acting on instinct and smelling you. But there was no way he should be able to.

With your arms pinned and your oxygen fleeting, you did the last thing your frantic mind could: slamming your knee up into his crotch before you swept his feet out from under him, causing the two of you to topple to the gravel together.

Slamming down side by side with a grunt, you struggled to pull your arms free but the man – to his credit – was quick, finding his feet fast enough to get on his knees and roll you underneath him, pinning you once more. His eyes fiery and angry, he re-gripped your neck, baring his teeth.

“You-!” Whatever else he was going to say was cut off as he was suddenly grabbed by the back of his uniform and thrown off of you.

“What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, soldier?!”

Immediately, your eyes widened at the familiar voice, looking up to see captain Price standing between you and the alpha he just yanked off of you.

His feet firmly planted in a wide stance, Price’s hat cast a shadow over his face while he stood there, glaring at the one in front of him.

“C-Captain.” The guy mumbled from where he was laying in the gravel, seeming thrown off for a moment before he scrambled up, tugging his shirt back into place with misguided confidence. “This isn’t what it looks like, there was no need to interfere.”

Those words however, seemed to light a fire in Price as he stepped forward and grabbed the raven by his collar. “Oh really? Cause it looked a whole lot like you assaulting my soldier.” He hissed, pulling the man close towards his face.

Getting to your feet, your heart was still thudding in your chest as you looked at the two men. Their anger filled the scent in the air, neither seeming to want to back off as the sergeant – as you now saw on his chest – glared back at Price just as vehemently.

“I am entirely within my right to pursue an omega.” He growled, grabbing Price’s wrist to attempt to pry his hand off his shirt, but Price held fast, his head tilting.

“But that’s not what this was, is it?” He chuckled darkly. “Courting looks very different, mate. And I’m not going to allow you to lay a hand on my soldier, my omega.” He growled right back, a possessiveness in his voice and scent that quickly had the other alpha questioning his chances.

Even among base, Price was well known for his status. Not only as captain but also because he came from a long line of alphas, kept ‘pure’ by not mixing with betas.

Though it had been something Price had lamented to you about – giving back for you sharing your secret with him – now it served its purpose, causing the sergeant to take a step back.

Price allowed it, letting go of the man’s shirt with an authoritative shove, still keeping himself positioned so that the other alpha couldn’t even see you behind the captain’s broad shoulders. “Scram before I have you written up for forcibly marking.” Price spat, his voice low and filled with danger as he glared.

Stumbling back from the shove, the sergeant stayed for just a moment longer while he clenched his fists, looking at Price before he accepted his loss, scurrying away and back around the corner, out of sight.

The moment his immediate scent left the area, Price un-tensed, sighing out before he turned to face you, a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

Standing before the man, your breathing was still shallow, your hand cradling your throat as the reality of what happened settled in. In panic, your eyes shot up to his blue ones. “Price, I- I don’t know what happened, how he knew- I-“

Before you could continue, Price stepped up and pulled you into a hug, his breath stuttering a little as he did, though he held you all the same.

“It’s okay, just breathe.” He mumbled, cradling the back of your head. “This is on me, not you.”

“What?” You asked, pulling back to look at him, your eyes a little foggy as you tried to keep your panic down. “You came to my rescue in time, you’re not to blame.”

“No, that’s not…” Letting out a breath, Price stepped back, turning his head away to take a breath, trying to contain himself as your scent filled his nostrils, only seeming to get worse by the moment. “Come with me, I’ll explain.”

Confused, you nodded, taking a little step back and Price started walking, the sun beginning to set behind you.

His pace was firm while he kept glancing around, obviously still riled up from the confrontation earlier. And while you walked in silence with him, your mind was anything but.

Despite it however, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of your thoughts, simply following while you pushed your hands down on the scent glands on either side of your neck, hoping to stop spreading around your true nature.

Before long, you reached the 141’s barracks, walking inside and straight to Price’s office, to which he opened the door and let you walk in first, stepping inside after you where he closed and locked the door.

“What’s going on?” You managed to get out, still keeping your hands over your glands now that you were in a locked area with Price. Though you trusted him explicitly and knew he wouldn’t act on his instincts, you knew it was hard for him to fight against it. So to help his discomfort, you kept your hands firmly locked around your neck.

At your question, Price let out a deep sigh as his hand slipped off the doorknob. “You’ve been off your suppressants.” He eventually said, raising his head as he walked past you to his desk, making you frown in confusion.

“No, I’m not.” You spoke back. “I’m taking them. Every day.”

At your words however, Price shook his head no and opened a drawer low down his desk, bent over as he rummaged through it. “Those aren’t your suppressants.” He said as he found what he was searching for and smacked a pill bottle onto his desk for you to see. “I accidentally gave you the wrong one.”

Confused, you glanced at Price who had a guilty and frustrated look on his face before you glanced down at the pill bottle and walked up to his desk, pulling the container towards yourself.

Written on it in small lettering, there it stood.

‘Omega Scent Suppressants Recipient: Y/N L/N’

Snapping your head up, Price stood there, rubbing his forehead while his eyes were clenched shut. “I accidentally switched my migraine pills and your suppressants.” He spoke, sounding truly frustrated with himself. “I got the shipment for both on the same day and somehow mixed them up.”

“Oh…” You whispered and Price sighed, sitting down in his chair.

“It’s why I’ve been sick the last three days. I took what I thought was a pill for a migraine last Wednesday but it was your suppressant. It royally fucked me over physically. And it kinda still is. I wanted to take another migraine pill just earlier and that’s when I noticed.” Price explained, taking off his hat and rubbing his temple slightly before he raised his head and guiltily looked at you. “Which also means you’ve not taken your suppressants in a week.”

Realisation setting in, you gingerly sat down in the chair across from the captain, stunned. “So… their effect is wearing off and-“ “And the entire base can smell you’re an omega because of my cock-up.” Price nodded. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse, I should have been more careful.”

As his words sank in, you then looked up, shaking your head. “No, captain, this isn’t all on you.” You spoke, reaching out to grab his hands which he had clasped together on the desk. While this whole situation was fucked and dangerous, you weren’t about to let him eat himself alive – which you knew he would- and most likely had been doing. “You looked at those bottles twice to take a pill. I’ve been staring at mine every day and haven’t noticed. Don’t blame yourself for not noticing sooner because I never noticed at all.” You spoke, the smallest of smiles on your face and Price frowned.

“You’re taking this too lightly.” His voice was firm as he said that. “Even if you start your suppressants again now, it’ll take a day or two to take effect. By then, even if you hide away in your room, your scent will spread – if that bloody bastard hasn’t already squealed to his friends-“

Just at the mention of the other alpha, Price’s hackles raised again and you jumped in, holding his hands with both of yours now, pulling them a little closer to yourself. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s… not optimal but it would have to come out eventually. If I start with the suppressants again, maybe people will know I’m an omega, yes, but they won’t be driven mad by instincts. I’ll be fine.” You smiled but Price frowned in distaste, his muttonchops curling downward.

“I wish the world worked that way, love. I know alphas. And especially alphas in the army. As long as you’re unclaimed, they will behave like feral dogs, ripping each other to shreds just to get to you. You’re no longer safe. Especially the coming days.”

At his words, the blood drained from your face. “I can block my scent, it’ll be fine.” You said quietly, and Price just shook his head no with a sad smile.

“You’re going into heat soon. I can smell it on you.” Saying that, almost as if saying it out loud made it real for him as well, he pulled his hands back, gripping the edge of his desk as he blew out a breath. “God. You don’t know how hard it is for me to just sit here right now.”

At that, you looked up at him, feeling incredibly small of a sudden. “Then what can I do?”

“Either get claimed by someone you want, or go on an indefinite leave.” Price spoke. There was no room for argument, no room for any other possible options and tears filled your eyes.

“Leave?”

Sighing, Price got up from his desk and rounded it, turning your chair and crouching before you, taking your hands in his. “That’s not what I want. You’re my soldier. And a bloody good one too. But as my soldier, it is my job to look after you and keep you as safe as I can. This is the only way I can.” He spoke, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper at the end.

“Don’t make me leave.” You begged softly, feeling so defeated.

“I know. I know.” Price mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You’ll always be my soldier.” He assured, a little smile on his face. “And when you find…” Uncharacteristically, he stuttered in his speech, trailing off, almost as if it was hard to get out. “-And when you find a good mate,” He eventually managed to say, “you can come be my soldier again.”

Those words however struck a chord within you, his words from earlier playing in your mind. “Your soldier.” You repeated in a whisper, your eyes landing on his. “Your omega.”

As you spoke that phrase, a blush flamed to life on Price’s face, unable to be hidden even by his beard. “I- That was a spur of the moment thing. It shouldn’t have slipped out, I’m sorry.”

“Slipped out?” You ask softly, a small bead of hope beginning to settle in your chest. “Are you saying those words are normally in your mind?”

Sitting before you, Price swallowed, his breath a little laboured. “God, don’t do this to me.” He almost pleaded, the gravel in his voice increasing as his body unconsciously began to lean closer, his chest almost touching your knees. “I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

“Answer the question, captain.” You whispered and Price rattled out a breath, your scent starting to overwhelm him, causing his body to respond in kind, giving off his own receptive pheromones.

“Yes, they are on my mind.” He growled, getting up from his crouch as he instead loomed over you, placing his hands on either side of the backrest of your chair, caging you in. “Every damn day.”

For the umpteenth time today, your heart started hammering in your chest, yet for once, it wasn’t out of fear or anxiety. “Captain…” You whispered, seeing your own hopes and wants play out right in front of you.

“Leave, Y/N, before I can’t hold myself back anymore.” He whispered while his hand came up to cup your chin, his face leaning in next to yours as he closed his eyes, taking in your addicting scent. “Fuck-“ He huffed, having to physically restrain himself from nuzzling into you. “Go. Now.” He ordered yet you stubbornly stayed put.

“Is this something you want, captain?” You whispered, your own eyes closed as well as you took in the waves of want and need cascading from him. “Not just your instincts?”

At your words, he let out a short chuckle, turning his head to push his brow into your temple, the pure image of barely contained need.

“I’ve been wanting to court you since you first arrived at this base.” He growled, his lips now so close to your ear it nearly reverberated through your body. “You don’t know what you do to me. Please go. Please. I can’t pull away.” Price pleaded, a mix of want and despair.

“Price, I don’t want to.” You whispered back, his eyes opening at that.

“What?”

Carefully, you pulled away and turned your head to look at him. “I’ve already chosen who I want to be claimed by.”

At that, the man almost seemed to falter, re-gripping the backrest of the chair to keep himself standing properly as he looked at you, trying to steel the excitement rippling through him as he processed the meaning of your words. You wanted him. “Are you sure? This is a lifetime commitment.” He mumbled and at that, you couldn’t help but smile, the omega inside you almost floundering at the care he displayed.

Throughout all your time you’d known him, Price had been a pillar of safety and support. No matter what, he’d been there for you, and you’d fallen a long time ago.

This man was the only one you’d entrusted with your secret and the only man you could see yourself being with. And because of it, you said the next words without hesitation.

“Please, I want you. Always have.”

As if a flame alighted in Price with your agreement, his lips slammed into yours. Reaching down, he lifted you up faster than you could have expected as his hands grabbed onto your thighs, hoisting you up and supporting you against his body.

Squeaking in surprise, you wrapped your arms around his neck for stability, holding onto him while you kissed back, your eyes closing. The coarse hairs of his beard scratched against your skin while he moved his lips, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

Even as he started walking, Price didn’t break the kiss, his scent becoming overpowering in the most delicious way while he walked out of his office and down the hallways to his room, his hands starting to squeeze and fondle the meat of your thighs.

In record time he had reached the door, kicking it open before rolling inside, using your body to slam it shut as he pinned you against the wooden frame, finally breaking the kiss fully, giving the both of you time to breathe.

“Fuck, I’ve waited so long to do that.” Price whispered, leaning down and pressing his nose against your neck, groaning as your scent fully enveloped him. “My omega…”

At his words, a flutter coursed through you, happier than you could believe to hear him say that – actually say that.

“Please claim me, alpha.” You returned in kind as you begged, causing a shiver to rack down Price’s spine, his pupils blown with lust as he nipped at your neck before he pulled back to look at you.

“Gladly.”

With that, he pulled back from the door after locking it, swiftly walking to his bed where he lowered you down, carefully placing you on your back before he allowed himself to get on as well, climbing over you.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He whispered, finally able to openly stare at you as he took in how well your uniform clung sat on your body.

Laying beneath Price, your chest was heaving as you took him in. His hat was nowhere to be seen, forgotten in his office while he trapped you beneath him. The muscles of his arm bulged underneath his shirt, his chest moving with every breath as he shifted, moving to slot himself between your legs.

“I’m going to ask this one last time, love.” He spoke in a low tone, leaning down as he pressed a kiss by your chin before moving up to the corner of your mouth, kissing there as well. “Are you sure this is what you want? No going back.” He murmured, one of his hands landing on your waist, rubbing back and forth.

“I want this.” You said immediately, reaching your hands down to grab onto his belt, pulling him closer to you. “I want you, John.” You whispered and Price groaned, placing his hand on your cheek.

“You’ll have me.” He mumbled before kissing you, starting to untuck your shirt from your camo pants with his hand still on your waist, his palm immediately darting underneath the fabric the moment it could.

His hand was warm and rough, sending shivers up your spine as he traced your ribs up, stopping just short of your chest.

Humming in delight at the feeling of his hand, you began to undo his belt, the clinking sounding through the room besides your shared heavy breathing. Price didn’t seem to mind as he hiked your shirt up further, seeming just as eager as you were as he broke the kiss and smiled down at you.

“Look at you, already so good for me.” He hummed with a smirk.

Sitting back on his haunches, he reached over his head and grabbed his shirt at the back, yanking it off of himself before throwing it to the side, revealing his bare torso. Dark hair was scattered all over his chest, running down in a v-shape towards his stomach where it ran down until it disappeared into his happy trail, obscured still by his boxers – visible now that you had opened up his pants.

You were unashamedly staring and it was clear Price enjoyed it.

Staying put for another few seconds to let you stare, Price then leaned forward to hover over you again, his dog tags swinging by your neck now that they were no longer tucked under his clothes. “Show me.” He whispered, tugging at your shirt and you bit your lip, nodding as you obeyed the command.

Reaching down, your torso was bare in no time, making Price groan appreciatively. Grabbing hold of your waist, it was dwarfed by his large hands while he leaned down, starting to kiss from your stomach up to your neck, making sure to nip and suck at your nipples before he moved further up, starting to rub his cheek past yours before he leaned even further rubbing the side of his neck to yours as he scented you.

Your scent glands, extra sensitive due to the oncoming claim, caused you to shudder as he rubbed his own into yours. Slowly, what had been so distinctly alpha and omega in the air now mixed into one as Price then moved onto the other side of your neck and scented you there as well, a groan in the back of his throat as his hips bucked into yours.

Just feeling his erection - straining against his clothing - caused a whimper to pull from you as you quickly faded into the submissive mentality that came with a claiming; your instincts taking over.

“Fuck, please, I need you.” You whimpered, almost feeling as if you’d gone into heat just from how needy you were becoming, your underwear stained with your own arousal, making it uncomfortable to stay in.

“I know, I’m here.” Price soothed, equally riled up though he managed to hide it better, putting you as priority while he began unbuckling your pants, quickly discarding it together with his own, leaving you both in nothing but underwear.

Seeing the wet stain on the fabric, Price growled low in his throat as he placed his hands on your inner thighs and spread your legs, giving himself a better view while he rubbed his thumb over the spot.

The scent of your arousal filled  the air, joining with your combined pheromones and that was enough to do the alpha in, his patience faltering as he reached out and ripped through your underwear, tearing the fabric before he threw it away – useless now.

Transfixed, he stared at your glistening folds, his erection straining against his own underwear as he now used both thumbs to spread you open, getting a good look at every part of you. “Fuck, such a perfect pussy.” He spoke almost under his breath, as if it wasn’t meant to be said out loud. Yet you heard all the same, making you whine as you bucked your hips towards him, almost inviting him to take you.

Something Price wasn’t going to pass up.

Quickly discarding his own underwear, Price panted as he grabbed hold of his cock. Pumping himself a few times, you could see he was leaking precum, his tip an angry red while he positioned himself back between your legs, the tip pressed to your folds.

“I’m going to claim you. My mate, my omega. Do you understand?��� He spoke, his voice a low gravel and you nodded desperately, making Price groan as he leaned forward and buried his face into the side of your neck, his eyes closed. “Are you ready?” He whispered and you hummed, spreading your legs even wider.

With that final consent, Price then began pushing his cock into you.

Sliding inside inch by inch, you gasped for breath while the alpha stretched you out, taking his time as he moved bit by bit, his hips stuttering whenever he did, as if he was still firmly holding himself back.

Yet none of that was on your mind, as all you could think about was to feel him inside you. Without warning, your legs wrapped around his waist before you locked them together and pulled, forcing Price fully inside of you, causing a groan to leave him as your wet heat enveloped him entirely.

Immediately, the faux-heat that had began to develop inside you rocketed the pleasure to eleven. Just the feeling of him entering you had your toes curling as you gasped, borderline on the brink of orgasm already.

Caught off guard by your action, the alpha then steeled himself, firmly planting his hands on your hips. Given how wet you were, Price slowly began to thrust, unable to wait while he leaned in and kissed you, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin while he began fucking you.

What started out slow quickly picked up in pace, neither of you willing to wait. While you let out little breaths every time he bottomed out, the captain grunted in pleasure while the sound of skin slapping on skin began to ring in the room.

“Fuck you feel so good. Exactly like I imagined.” Price huffed as he kissed around your throat, his right hand coming down to push into your clit.

Immediately, your back arched and you whined loudly, causing the man to keep rolling his thumb over the nub, your shallow breathing turning to little moans while he thrusted into you, your head feeling thick and foggy as you could barely comprehend the orgasm you were on the precipice of.

You didn’t even have time to be embarrassed. The two of you had barely started before you were already orgasming as he pushed down onto your clit one more time, making you moan as you arched your back, your walls beginning to clench and spasm around the alpha fucking into you, an appreciative groan echoing from his throat at the feeling. “Bloody hell, love.” He panted while you trembled.

Even as you rode out your orgasm, Price never stopped thrusting, a ring of white appearing around his cock from your cum now as he pushed right through.

“Fuck, John-“ You moaned, not even given time to recover or breathe as he started speeding up his thrusts.

“Keep going like this and I can’t hold out long.” Price groaned, grabbing the back of your knees before pushing up, pinning them to your chest as he put you in a mating press, his cock dragging in and out of your walls at a rapid pace, making your whimpers and moans increase.

Where there usually should have been overstimulation, now you only felt pleasure, the uncanny ability for an omega to turn the sensitivity of pleasure up yet remove overstimulation rearing its head. After all, the more aroused and pleasured, the more fertile, as well as to keep up with an alpha’s stamina in rut.

“John- Alpha-“ You cried, completely trapped under him as he put his full weight onto you, keeping you in a mating press for him, causing his thrusts to hit deeper than before, his tip hitting straight onto your g-spot with every single thrust.

His hips slapping into the back of your thighs, you were a panting, moaning and sweaty mess, barely able to hold onto your own mind as he fucked you straight towards another orgasm, his shaft squelching with each thrust, making you whine as slowly, the base of his cock started to swell.

Panting, Price began stretching you out further and further with each thrust as his knot began to grow, indicating his climax was near.

Every thrust became more shallow than the previous while his movements sped up, fucking into you now to chase his own release as his knot slowly became too big to fit as he pounded into you.

“God, I’m gonna make you mine.” Price panted, his eyes focused, dead set on your neck and you whimpered out a moan.

“Please, please, fuck, I need your knot!” You begged, pushing back into every one of his thrusts now, needing to feel the swell of his cock inside you, feel it plug you up to keep his cum in, fully marking you as his, inside and out.

“You want it, love?” Price panted, smiling as he kept thrusting, the bulbous knot at the base of his shaft teasing your entrance every time, beginning to push in before it met too much resistance and the alpha pulled back before thrusting again.

“Yes!” You whined, grabbing onto the chain of his dog tags to pull him down. “Please!” You cried and that was all it took.

Groaning loudly in pleasure, Price tightly grabbed hold of your hips and pulled, pushing his cock into you at the same time, forcing himself past the resistance of your tight entrance.

Instantly, the both of you moaned and Price started shallowly thrusting as much as his cock allowed, his release mere moments away as he continued to thrust.

“Fuck, fuck-!” The captain growled before darting forward and sinking his teeth into the point where your shoulder met your neck, slamming into you as deep as he could go at the same time, grinding his pelvis into yours while his knot swelled fully as he came.

Hot, white seed shot into you, painting your walls as his orgasm washed over him.

With his teeth embedded in your flesh, he marked you inside and out, pumping his hips as he filled you with release, his knot trapping every single drop inside of you as ropes of cum continued to spurt into you, filling you up in a sensation you’d never experienced before.

Moaning at the feeling, it hurtled you into another orgasm as you sharply arched your back, causing Price to bite down harder as he created the mating mark, making sure he wouldn’t slip even as you squirmed, the pain only intensifying your climax as your breath was knocked out of you, your walls attempting to clench around his knot but unable to, simply too stretched as they were.

Yet as Price’s high faded while he became fixed to you through his knot, you were still on cloud nine. With both your orgasms, the heat in your body faded, replaced by a pleasurable thrum that flickered in your belly.

The both of you were panting and sweaty, Price pulling away from your neck, a deep bite mark sitting right around your left scent gland.

His mark.

With his seed kept inside you by the plug of his knot, and the permanent mating mark around your scent gland, you knew you were now full and well Price’s omega.

#hih kinktober 2023 #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #price smut #captain price smut #john price smut

[saetoru]

[ TODAY, TOMORROW ] SCARAMOUCHE.

scaramouche is pouting—you can practically feel him sulking from across the room. 

and you’ve tried a good number of times to coax the reason out of him, but he’s every bit as stubborn as he’s always been. you can feel the daggers he stares into your head even with your back facing him, and you can feel the waves of his petulance radiate like they’re meant to aim at you. 

scaramouche is entirely too difficult for his own good—he always says one thing and means another, leaving you to read between the lines to really figure out what he says. he grumbles and protests at every chance possible, and sometimes you wonder if it’s on purpose to make your life harder. you think if you go left, he’ll always surely go right, but in the end, he always finds his path back to you—and even though you know he doesn’t like to admit it, he enjoys the warmth of your body next to his, feels almost incomplete without it. so, with a soft sigh and a calculated risk, you make your way over.

“alright,” you hum, poking his cheek—if it were anyone else, he might consider slicing the appendage off. but the gentle prod of your finger is one you get away with, only making his lips curl further, earning you a huff as he angles his body away from you. “c’mon, just say what’s wrong already.”

it’s kind of cute, the way he glares at you—it’s not very menacing when he’s got pouty lips and crossed arms, almost resembling a child told no more than an ex-harbinger that once turned god.

“nothing,” he mumbles, “quit asking.”

“c’mon, kuni,” you sigh, sinking beside him, leaning your cheek against his arm as he grumbles under his breath. “i know it’s not nothing. did i say something?”

“no.”

“did someone else say something?”

“no.”

you contemplate for a moment, staring at him from the side, watching the light cast shadows on the perfectly sculpted ridges and dips across his face. he’s beautiful—as is expected of something created from means so divine. he’s as close to perfect as you think you’ll ever see…and yet, he’s more beautiful like this, in moments where he’s less than pleasant and more than difficult.

you hum quietly before finally nodding. “okay.” 

it’s not the response he’s looking for—that much you can tell when he raises a brow, finally glancing at you from the corners of his eyes. and you try to fight back the small grin threatening to tug across your face, trying to keep it hidden under a neutral expression as he stares at you bewildered. 

“okay?” he furrows his brows, staring at you with slightly widened eyes as you make your way to stand up. for a moment, you faintly register the slight panic on his face as you make an attempt to move. it makes you hold back a giggle—it’s endearing the way he craves your attention under the front of indifference, how he waits for you to notice him even as he ducks away from your gaze. you hope he doesn’t notice the amusement in your eyes as you simply shrug and nod.

“yeah,” you say casually, “if you say it’s nothing, then i believe you. i’ll leave it—”

and suddenly, you’re dragged back down beside him with a tug of your wrist, his arms wrapping around you tightly and his body twisting to hide his face in your neck. you can’t see it, but you don’t think you need to in order to know that his face is warm in the crook of your neck with a soft blush. 

“ah,” you grin, “so there is something wrong, isn’t there?”

“no,” he insists again stubbornly, making you snort as you thread your fingers loosely through his hair. 

“you’re so difficult,” you chuckle, pressing a small peck to the side of his head. and if he relaxes a bit in your hold, you don’t mention it—and he’s grateful. “what’s wrong? you can tell me.”

there’s a touch of delicateness in your voice now, a softer note to your tone that makes him clutch onto you tighter. the world has not ever been very delicate with scaramouche—there have never been sweet smiles or careful words, no thoughtful touches that graze his skin with affection. he’s used to harsh blows, of being ripped apart over and over, of watching the backs of every figure retreat slowly, leaving him behind.

but you stay. you take one step closer even when he shoves you two steps back, you keep your arms outstretched for him to fall into. and just when he thinks you’ll turn to face your back to him too, he meets your chest instead, pulled into your embrace where your arms are warm, tight, home.

“i don’t know,” he admits after a while, trying to figure out what he wants to say before settling for the same words once more. “i…i don’t know.” 

“it’s okay,” you hum, nails raking over his scalp as you scratch gently, “we all have bad days.”

“yeah? try a bad life,” he grunts. you chuckle, and he can feel the slight rumble against your chest. he wonders for a moment if you ever feel the same comfort he does when your body is slotted against his—if the hollowness of his chest feels as homely as the slow rise and fall of yours. 

“well, you still have the rest of your life to make up for it. that’s nice, huh?”

scaramouche wants to scoff, maybe call you naive, perhaps even stupid. he knows that would land him a huff of disapproval and maybe a gentle smack to his shoulder, but it doesn’t stop him from rolling his eyes (from where you can’t see it, of course.) and he’s sure that you’ll always be in this constant tug of war between whether or not the glass is half full or half empty—but he thinks as long as you don’t stop pulling, he won’t either.

and that’s okay. in fact, it’s more than okay.

“that’ll suck too.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do,” he insists, letting you adjust his body so that it sprawls over yours. he’s laid against your chest now, cheek pressing right against where your heart should be.

it rises. and falls. and rises again, just like each breath is a new day—a new chance to start new. he thinks for a moment, you might be right, that perhaps there’s hope for him to have something good. 

to have you.

“i don’t think so,” you hum thoughtfully, “cause now you have me.”

he snorts this time, rolling his eyes again with a fond smile tugging at his lips. he can’t remember the last time he smiled at something with affection laced into the cracks, but he thinks maybe things aren’t so bad if he gets to now. 

so he lets himself hope—lets himself trust that tomorrow will be good and the day after that too, that maybe next week and perhaps even next month will be one he can enjoy, that maybe—just maybe—he’ll have the whole rest of his life to look forward to. 

because you’ll be there. you’ll press those soft kisses to his head and you’ll reach for his hand. you’ll crack those stupid jokes and you’ll laugh that stupid laugh. you’ll stick your tongue out after you tease him and he’ll smile fondly as he always does before he hides it with a scoff. 

“aren’t you a conceited one?” he muses, making you laugh. you poke his cheek again, and he lets you again. 

“i make your life the best, kuni. don’t lie.”

“as if,” he scoffs, but he presses against you closer, arms pulling you tight against him.

scaramouche thinks maybe today wasn’t as bad as he thought—and maybe tomorrow will be better. for now, it’s enough.

do not repost, translate or plagiarize

he’s a lil muffin top :( i love my baby :(

#just scara having a bad day and you annoying him till its not so bad anymore bc that is exactly the dynamic he needs why lie #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fluff #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #teepods.writings #drabbles.