#I dunno it’s just a small thing that meant a lot to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanaticsnail · 23 days

Text

Parts You Left Behind

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 7,300+

Synopsis: You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.

Themes: Brook x f!reader, therapist!reader x nakama-musician!brook, skeleton kisses, cheek kisses, platonic kisses, romantic kisses, angst, fluff, crews being themselves, validating feelings, requited love, flirtatious dialogue, talks of panties, heart-pirate!reader

Notes: this was meant to be a small drabble. And the same thing happens every time I try writing a small drabble - we end up with a full fic. Apparently I have a lot of angst inside about the Heart-Pirates that needed to get out, and also skeleton kisses. Posted a day late for the Skele-man's bday. Thank you to @sordidmusings and @since-im-already-here for helping me with boney kisses.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff (sorry if you're all not into the skeleton. He needed some love)

The air shifted the weight of salt-forward air through the strands of fallen hair which whipped across your face. The docking of the three ships, joined together by ropes and beams, were thrust into the hull by a soft thump. Your crewmate Shachi instinctively reached for your forearm to steady himself on, gritting his teeth as he adjusted to the new altitude above deck.

“You alright there, big boy?” you cocked your head to the side as Shachi balanced himself on your forearm and the metal beam framing the deck. He hid his head from view, shooting you a swift gesture with his thumb to indicate his well being. You smiled at him, shifting his weight on your arm by weaving yourself beneath his shoulder.

Rubbing soothing circles onto his back, you aided him in adjusting to the altitude difference, as he grew accustomed to life above the barrier of the oceanic waves. Being at lower altitude saved Shachi’s sea-sickness from the swell of waves, rocking his body and causing his stomach to lurch with every rise of the ocean surface.

“I got you, sweety,” you cooed at your red-headed crewman, holding him steady as he holds back the rise of bile in his throat: refusing to open the floodgates to expel the contents of his stomach, “Take some deep breaths for me, hun. Big one in,” you breathed with him inwards for three seconds, holding it briefly, “And then out,” you exhaled with him.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good job,” you praised him, feeling a shudder in his shoulders as he fought back the sickness in his stomach and mouth. You breathed with him a few more times, praising him on every inhale and exhale that he took with you. Once adjusting to the pattern of the swelling ocean, he turned to face you.

“It’s just hard, you know? Being under the water, then over it again,” he commented, leaning into your touch with his back arching beneath your palm, “It’s the rocking that does it for me. Just the constant rocking.”

“I dunno,” you shrugged beneath his shoulders with a bitten-back, downturned smile, “I don’t mind a bit of constant rocking from time to time.”

Shachi expelled a roar of laughter accompanied with your own at your unbridled jest. He hooked his arm over your shoulder and teetered off into a light chuckle. You looked up at your crewmen beneath your shoulder and shot him a winning smile. He reflected the expression on your lips with one of his own.

“There’s a few members of the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews, hun,” Shachi commented, gesturing to the ship that had docked with your own with the index finger of the hand around your shoulders, “Maybe you could find some constant rocking amongst a few of them.”

Your captain, Trafalgar Law, made you aware of all of the crew that served the Captain of the Thousand Sunny. The ever growing list of occupants never seemed to end: Captain Luffy, First-Mate Zoro, Navigator Nami, Marksman Usopp, Chef Sanji, Doctor Chopper, Archeologist Robin, Shipwright Franky, and finally, the Musician Brook.

Your role as the counselor of the Heart-Pirates, executing your position with the utmost excellence, had you immediately drawn to advise your captain with the Nakama encounters with the Straw-Hat Crew. You knew a few members of the crew, the person you seemed to gravitate towards the most was Nico Robin. Her level-headed dimenure alongside her ability to balance the rapport of the crew was truly admirable.

The other was the playful musician, Brook. The first time you met with the Straw-Hat “Brook,” you were truly ill-prepared for what was to come of it. Where a few people found his straightforward approach of flirting with the opposite sex repulsive, you found it quite endearing. When he performed his melodic compositions, you were entranced by his musicianship. You adored him, and would love to get to know him in the arena of flirtatious engagement.

“We’ll see,” you smirked up at him, pressing a small, friendly kiss on your crewmate’s shoulder before you gave his waist a gentle squeeze, “How are we feeling, Shach?”

“A bit better,” he confirmed with a nod, looking over to the docked ship and their crewmen, “Just gotta focus on not locking my knees, and we’ll be all set.” He turned to look down at you, smirking with his eyes shrouded beneath his glasses. Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss on your forehead before breaking from the embrace.

Shachi, Penguin and you were the closest amongst the Heart-Pirate crew. The seas were incredibly lonely, comfort being scantily found amongst one another aboard the crew. It started one night when the shifts were switching between the ‘am’ and ‘pm’ crews, your body reacting in its exhausted state within changeover.

“Nothing new to report here, just a small blip on the monitor indicating the arrival of a school of fish,” you yawned at Penguin, he nodded in understanding.

“Alright then,” he confirmed, clapping a hand on your shoulder in his own dissociative and sleep-deprived state, “Get some rest. See you in a couple winks, honey.” You hummed in response, cupping his left cheek within your right hand and pulling his right cheek towards you.

“Night-night,” you uttered, pressing a small peck on his left cheek before turning to his redheaded shift-partner beside him, “Happy shift-watching,” you uttered, breaking contact with Penguin’s body before extending the height of your body by standing firmly on the tips of your toes. Grasping Shachi’s cheeks, you tilted his head to give him a gentle peck on his forehead before heading off to crew-quarters without any further explanation.

After that moment, the three of you became as close as close friends could be. Jokes, playfulness and comradery were always openly expressed physically between the three of you. Should Captain Law make port, you would wingman for your special boys, just as they would absolutely reciprocate for you. Each time Law made a Nakama encounter, you would all be on the lookout for appropriate couplings for one another.

“All crew: prepare to board,” your captain’s voice rang over the speakers with a soft crackle, “Reconvene aboard the Straw-Hat vessel. Counselor, to my side.”

Bowing a small nod and giving Shachi a final squeeze, you broke from your position within the arms of Shachi and made your journey to your position beside your captain. Both the Victoria Punk and the Polar Tang bound themselves against the Thousand Sunny: sandwiching the great lion figure between their own figureheads.

Approaching your captain, you cupped your palm over his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. He huffed out an acknowledgement of your name and title while he bowed his head.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” you asked him, stepping into his peripheral view. He continued to have his head bowed low, pursing his lips into a straight line. You furrowed your brows, sinking lower to get a better gauge on his emotions.

“I have a confession, Counselor,” he nodded, opening his eyes and looking above his descended brow, “And I need absolutely no judgment other than the highest level of professionalism.”

“Understood, Sir,” you smiled, releasing his shoulder and quarrying your own as a way of depicting your full attention, “You will always have my ears, along with my complete attention.” He sighed in gratitude, tilting his chin to elevate his eyes upwards.

“Being with those two captains makes me-...” he paused with a light scoff in his tone, “...-make awful decisions. It’s as if I am no longer in control of myself: always doing something to prove how much of a man I am to not only them, but to myself.”

Nodding along to his confession, you wordlessly agreed with all points he raised regarding himself. You relaxed your stance, opting to remain more compassionate and empathetic while you listen to your captain speak. As of this moment, your captain was only a man - and one that desired to verbally process with his therapeutic confidant: you.

“I put our very lives at stake with this utter stupidity,” he continued, shaking his head at himself as he uttered his confessions to you, “All I seem to do is share a single, joint brain cell with those two morons each time we meet. There are no intelligible thoughts I can call my own, only competition and idiocy seem to remain.”

After taking several moments pause, Trafalgar D Water-Law waited patiently for you to offer a countenance for his predicament. You suddenly allow a warm smile to begin its rise on your lips.

“May I ask what our purpose is with docking with the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk?” you pose your question as simply as you can. He furrows his brows, clicking his tongue in thought.

“It’s a simple exchange of information,” he confirms with you, eyeing your face as you receive this knowledge, “And to determine if our alliance should remain valid in its longevity.” You hum in response, pursing your lips before allowing that warmth to return to your features once more.

“Then I would suggest leaning into the so-called stupidity, sir,” you shrug, scrunching your nose before looking to the hull of the Thousand Sunny. Cyborg-Franky was tying up the rigging to secure the Polar Tang in position to ensure it didn’t slip away in the swell of water with the dark-haired Nico Robin beside him.

“Excuse me?” Law expressed his concern with a low tone, “Lean into it?” You hum emphatically, returning your gaze to meet with your captain. You shrugged nonchalantly, cocking your head to the side to get a better gauge on the emotions of your captain.

“We’re not in any danger here, sir,” you relay your translation of his objective, “We have no threats posed to us, that is not at the hands of one another. I doubt the other two captains and their crew would make any attack on our vessel here, if we’re all in a similar predicament.”

Law stands quietly, interlacing his hands behind his back as he mulls your words over in his head. He inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes with his brow deeply furrowed in the center of his forehead.

“If I also may, sir,” you add, stepping closer to your captain, “You are only twenty-six years old. You are young,” you dip your head down to capture his gaze, his eyes now reopened, “And from what we’ve discussed in our prior sessions together: the opportunity to behave like a child in your youth was taken from you by illness and cruel, tyrannical hands. You never truly had an opportunity to be stupid, Captain.” His small gasp was barely audible, eyes widening at you giving him permission to behave childishly.

“Then what would you suggest, Counselor?” He questioned you a final time, floating his gaze with the utmost seriousness between your playful eyes.

“Allow the crew of the Polar Tang to switch out of their uniforms, and let us all be stupid together,” you smile at your captain, extending your hand up to clasp his shoulder once more, “You deserve to be stupid amongst friends. Even if it’s just for a little while. If it matters, as one of the few members of your crew you trust with the rank and title to dismiss you from active duty-...”

Law’s eyes never left yours as you softened your playful expression

“...You have my permission to be stupid, sir,” you quip with a small wink, releasing his shoulder from within your grasp and turning back to make eye contact with the Thousand Sunny’s archeologist. You give her a small wave and a broad smile, with a final word to the gloomy man by your side, “But really, the person who’s permission you truly need is your own. Give yourself the luxury of behaving like, as you say, ‘a moron’ for a few moments. See what happens.”

With that final word, Law dismissed himself from his place standing beside you and hurriedly scurried below decks to, presumably, his office. In his sessions with you, he has worked through a few hard truths, all of which resulted in him taking a few moments in isolation to allow the truths to sink in. This appeared to be such a moment as this; which left you, in his absence, to be the welcoming committee to both the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews and their Captains.

As you walked over the wooden plank used as a makeshift bridge between the vessels, Nico Robin offered you her hand to stabilize your footing as you stepped down onto the deck. Her radiant smile elevated her features, mirrored within your own.

“Counselor,” she addressed you with the smooth hum of her voice.

“Archeologist,” you acknowledged her title with a soft nod in your welcome, “Are we reduced to titles now? Shall I address all of you in such a manner?” Luffy smiled at you, his pearly teeth shining beneath his upturned eyes.

“Where’s Traffy at?” Luffy asked loudly, his voice carrying over to alert the red-headed captain at the other side of the deck, “He not with you?”

“Unfortunately not. My captain is not available to conduct the preliminary introductions of our crews presently,” you relayed your practiced response, “Is there anything I can do to make this first step more comfortable for you while we wait, Captain Luffy?” you asked before turning to the taller man rapidly approaching, “Or you, Captain Kid?” you finished your question with a low bow and awaited their responses.

“Nah,” Luffy shrugged, clapping his hands behind his neck and offering you a tight-lipped smile, “Welcome aboard, Counselor. Tell your crew to get comfy, Sanji has made a whole heap of food for us all.” You rose from your deep stoop, smiling at Luffy before turning to Eustass Kid and awaiting his response.

“Traffy sends his cute little counselor ahead of him to meet us, instead of showing his ugly mug up here,” Kid smirked, his lip paint cracking in the warmth of the sun, “Smart man, that captain of yours.” You chose to remain stoic at his unbridled, backhanded compliment of your captain. You extended your chin into the air, narrowing your eyes at the tall captain.

“I would prefer all compliments coming my way be not at the expense of my captain’s intellect, nor his appearance,” you snarled, arching your brow at him, “If that would be all, Captain Kid.”

“Aye. That’s all, little mouse. Scurry on back to your duties,” he smirked down at you, his narrowed eyes training after you as you turned to direct your crew, now in common clothes, aboard the Thousand Sunny. They all seemed more than joyful at their captain’s lax behavior, depicting their personalities in their own styles rather than in boiler suits. The only member of the Heart-Pirate crew that remained in their uniform was yourself, eagerly awaiting for your captain’s dismissal so you could change into common clothes, yourself.

You felt a presence behind you, your blood running cold as a shudder curled itself up from the base of your spine to the top of your skull. The small rattle of bones indicated the soul which stood behind you, a smile immediately tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Pardon me, miss,” the soft-spoken voice addressed you over your shoulder, “Would you mind terribly if I were to ask you what type of panties you were wearing?” Your tight-lipped grin did very little to stifle your teetered giggle at such an insanely, forward question from the familiar man behind you.

“Soul-King Brook,” you addressed him, turning to meet with the hollowed eyes of the skeletal form which stood before you. He was dressed in a purple, velvet suit, his hair curled and styled in a carefree, circular afro. The beads hanging from his skeletal neck shook and rattled against his exposed ribcage, the perfectly bleached bones secured with a black, leather belt.

Eagerly awaiting your response, he pressed the tips of his fingers together in anticipation of your response to such an unhinged question. He could not remember if you were the type to yell, if you were the type to respond with violence, nor if you were the type to simply scoff and walk away from him.

“If I were wearing any, I would absolutely inform you of the make and model,” you smirked up at him, before adding a soft wink with a further hushed utterance, “When I am dismissed from duty by my captain to change into more comfortable clothes, I would be more than happy to tell you the exact shade of the ensemble.”

If you had never met this man in encounters prior, you would scoff if anyone ever attempted to convince you that skeletons could blush. But you did know him, and here he was: Brook, the Soul-King, the undead skeleton - blushing red at your words. The cracked cap above the crown of his head popped briefly, to which you almost thought you could see steam rise out of the hollow crevice.

Nami, the straw-hat navigator, noticed the skeletal musician beside you seeming to have a small rush of energy pop out of his cranium. Immediately, she hastily walked to your side to ensure the skeletal man was behaving himself.

“I-If then, it wouldn’t be too much trouble, miss,” he stuttered over his words, tumbling through his teeth without anything to halt them, “Would you mind telling me if the carpet matches the drapes?”

“Brook!” Nami scolded her crewmate with a loud reprimand, “You can’t just go around asking people if-.” You halted her words with a wave of your hand and an enthusiastic giggle.

“-It’s perfectly fine with me, Navigator,” you huffed a laugh at both his poorly held conversational skill, and the response his crewman welcomed him with, “I am more than capable of defending myself if I were ever uncomfortable, but I thank you for your valiance nonetheless.” From the corner of your peripheral, you notice Law’s presence aboard the Thousand Sunny. He gives you a curt nod before elevating his chin sharply to excuse you from active duty to change out of your uniform.

“If I may be excused, Nami, Brook,” you nodded to the two Nakama crew respectfully, which they both reciprocated. You turned and began to take a few steps, casually calling over your shoulder, “To answer your question, Musician: The last time I checked, I wasn’t bald up top.”

The whistle of steam sprung into the air behind you, the rattles of the rotation of excited bones clinked together behind you with the familiar, unhinged laughter you had come to enjoy upon your meetings with the Straw-Hat crew. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you made your way back to the Polar Tang to redress yourself in more appropriate garb for the encounter.

Brushing your shoulders against Shachi and Penguin as you began to go below deck, Penguin quickly grasped his hand over your wrist and halted your movement. You quickly snapped your head to him as he lent down towards you.

“You keen on the skeleton, honey?” he whispered his hushed question into your ear, “Need a wingman to set something up? We can be on the lookout for something, if you like.” You laugh at his questioning, shaking your head at his enthusiasm at the proposition of a romantic fling amongst the crews. Feeling the loosening of his grip over your wrist, you quickly pressed a small kiss against his cheek in gratitude.

“I think I can manage on my own,” you confirmed with a small teetered laugh, “He is quite easy on the eyes, and I find his unbridled lust for the living flesh endearing.” Shachi joined you with your laughter, both quickly dismissing themselves from your presence as you hopped back on board of the ship you called home.

Hollowed eyes tracked your every movement. From the grip on your wrist, to the kiss on a cheek, to the teetered giggle rising between the three of you. Brook didn’t truly understand how to feel in this moment: a woman of his dreams seemingly reciprocal of his flirtations being more than friendly with her own crewmen. Was this foreign emotion jealousy?

He turned his head from your position, as your silhouette vanished below decks of the Polar Tang. He felt a warm hand tuck itself within his skeletal palm, giving his bones a gentle squeeze in support. Nico Robin offered Brook a smile alongside her affectionate touch, soothing over his scattering nerves.

“She is friendly with those two, Brook,” she hummed up at his tall form, “You, of all people, understand how lonely it is on the seas. She’s blessed to have found friends to offer her a gentle touch and a friendly embrace from time to time.”

“That I do, Robin,” Brook confirmed softly, nodding to himself as he knit his thoughts together, “I just-...” he trailed off, his onyx hollows seeking out the former position you were atop the deck of the Polar Tang, “...I would never dream of ruining that, should I choose to entangle myself with her. She’s wonderful.”

Robin’s gaze floats over to the two crewmen of the Polar Tang you had found a family with, both of which were focussed in deep, private conversation. Their eyes would float up to Brook, as their hushed whispers were scheming in hyper-focussed plotting.

“Something tells me you won’t be ruining anything, Dear,” Robin chuckles before releasing Brook’s hand and giving him a small tap on his shoulder in encouragement.

As you stripped out of your boiler-suit, you hastily made yourself more comfortable in clothes you rarely found yourself donning. You quickly made an appropriate arrangement of your favorite dress: cinched in the waist, accentuating your figure in a perfect hourglass and laid it out on your bed. Before you threw on a plain set of undergarments, your fingers halted on fabrics you had yet to have an opportunity to wear.

A small smile grew into a playful, mischievous grin, as your fingers looped over the lingerie: hastily drawing it up onto your body. You usually wore this garment if you were feeling particularly dull in your boilers uniform: something only for you to wear to make yourself feel more confident. You giggled as you hooked your thumbs over the bottom piece and pulled it up over your thighs to settle on your hips. Hooping your arms through the arm holes of the corseted bodice, you tightened the front of the piece to accentuate your breasts within the cups.

You quickly took a moment to laugh at yourself at your own stupidity, before you reminded yourself: “If I gave the captain permission to allow himself a moment of idiocy, why should I not do the same? Where is the harm?”

Throwing your dress over your head, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror. Hastily adding a small amount of makeup to accentuate your features, you hurriedly made your way back up to the top deck of the Polar Tang while adjusting your laced ankle boots as you took lengthy strides.

As you made your way back aboard the Thousand Sunny, you truly took the time to notice the assortment of clothes your crewmen were finally allowed the luxury of expressing. You set an internal reminder to put forward a petition to allow the crew to dress casually at least once a month while serving aboard the Polar Tang.

Your eyes quickly found the skeleton, sitting cross legged in front of a checkerboard with the archeologist of the Straw-Hat crew: both drinking jasmine tea and engaging in a game of chess. Approaching slowly, she gazed up at you and wordlessly complimented your chosen casual attire for the day. You gestured with your eyes whether it was an opportune moment to interrupt their game to claim the skeleton’s attention for a moment. She tilted her head with a warm smile, gesturing with her hands to go right ahead.

Brook was confused briefly before he felt a hand press down on his shoulder. He quickly turned his face to glance down at the fingers perched on his right shoulder before his chin was claimed beneath the same warm grip. You tilted his face to gaze into his eyes, taking a moment for Brook’s mind to catch up to what his body was experiencing. You gazed through half-hooded lashes into the darkened recesses of his circular hollows, a playful smile drawn up on your lips.

“Violet and pastel-lavender,” you uttered in a soothing, low voice, “Laced up with a gold ribbon in the front with a gold embellished trim around the hemline.” Brook would have lowered his eyebrows in deep thought, if he had any hair sprouting over his skull. He was confused as to what exactly you were relaying to him before he focussed on who was relaying the information.

His spectral breath was taken from him, no further words were formed within his hollow cranium as steam began to exude from every open orifice. Your half-hooded eyes playfully toyed with him, as a feline would with their freshly caught rodent in their teeth. You held your eyes watching him squirm as you bit your smile back with your teeth, while Robin attempted to contain her chuckle at witnessing her crewman be the center of another’s romantic attention.

“Y-Y-You-...” he choked on his words, the steam rapidly whistling and fuming throughout his skull, “...You’re w-wearing purple panties?” You giggled at his response, pressing your painted lips against the hollow surface where his nose was once located, leaving a perfect pursed circlet of affection painted on the bleached bones.

“Of course I am,” you confirmed with a wink before pulling away from him, releasing him from your hands and beginning to rise from your stoop, “I had to match with my favorite musician.” You gestured to the velvet suit Brook was wearing, prompting his attention to briefly switch to his own clothes before snapping his head back up. His jaw hung comically slack, prompting a giggle to rise in your throat before you turned back to acknowledge the woman opposite to Brook.

“Apologies for my forwardness, Nico Robin,” you bowed your head in respect to the dark-haired woman before returning your attention back to Brook, “Soul-King,” you nodded your head to the musician before walking over to your captain.

Sitting beside Trafalgar Law as he shared a single brain cell with the two Nakama captains was truly a sight to behold. You adored how he finally allowed himself to loosen the tight reins he held himself bound by, his playful stupidity was something you would’ve prescribed as his personal councilor. He needed a holiday, and he was finding one beside the two louder captains.

As the food changed from the savories, to the sweets, to the cheeses and cured meats: you felt hollow eyes fixated upon your form. You were not swayed by the attention in the slightest, it was a welcomed change to your experience aboard the Polar Tang. You embraced the opportunity to express your femininity in a creative way, and it was a bonus that you managed to snag the attention of such a unique individual as-.

“Brookie!” Captain Luffy called over the ramblings of the crowd, “How’s about a song? Somethin’ from the heart while we enjoy being one big crew together?”

His trance broken by the orders of his Captain, Brook snapped out of his bout of hypnotism as he made his way hurriedly to claim the first instrument set aside on the deck. The old guitar had water-swollen cracks in the base, but the strings were all new and freshly tuned. When he played music, he was in his own world: unaware of the life around him as he let the music carry his soul.

As his skeletal fingers began plucking at the strings, his voice relayed a heartfelt melody that held you completely transfixed on his form. Both Shachi and Penguin snickered at your awestruck expression, nudging each other with their elbows as your breath was claimed from you. Law attempted to ask you a question over his shoulder, turning to face you as he didn’t hear a word or utterance of response from your direction.

Law's gaze floated over your starstruck expression, the music fully moving your soul was painted intricately on your face. Your eyes began to become glassy as the swell of Brook’s melody reverberated in your eardrums and shook you to your core.

He smirked at you, uncaring that his question remained unanswered. Your captain reached his hand down, claiming your palms and giving them a gentle squeeze as you remained unresponsive to the world around you.

Nothing existed in this room: just you, and the skeletal man who was singing to every fibre of your very soul. You were entranced, bewitched, captivated and spellbound by his melody.

Brook in his time as a musician in his corporeal form was well renowned for his shanties and musical ensembles. Some of his melodies were taught to you as a child before you decided to embark on a life of piracy.

Nothing could have prepared you to meet the man who influenced your childhood musicianship, especially one on the high seas between all the quarters of the continent. Nor did you ever picture yourself falling in love with him as he finally concluded his performance aboard his vessel, to which you were a welcomed guest aboard.

You were too stunned to offer applause in response to the song’s conclusion, the world suddenly jolting back into existence as calls for an encore were encouraged from the three crews.

Brook’s spectral eyes were held in complete focus against your own, noticing the elevation in your heartbeat flooded to dust your cheeks in a warm flush. Your lips were parted, your eyes never leaving his as you blinked the world back into existence around you. Brook took a brief bow before he extended his boned hand out towards you, nodding to you in a gesture for you to take his hand and join him.

Turning to your captain first, Law nodded his head to excuse you from your position beside him, you rose to your feet and stepped around from the positions the three crews scattered themselves atop the deck, reaching forward and taking Brook’s skeletal hand. He guided you over to the plush stool beneath the piano, taking a seat beside you as he began to perform a classical arrangement that required no vocals.

Enthralled by the melody once more, your eyes focussed on the piano. The ebony and ivory keys dipped and rose beneath skilled fingers, the passion in the melody depicted with each crescendoed element.

“Do you play any instruments?” Brook asked in a low, hushed tone beside you. You snapped out of your brief captivity and looked to his vacant hollows. The empty sockets held firm against your face, focussed on every subtle change in your expression. His fingers continued to clack at the smoothed tips of the keys as he awaited your answer.

“Not since embarking on a life of piracy, much to the disdain of my heritage with my familial title,” you shrugged with a soft smile, his skull now holding your attention rather than the melody, “I did sing in my youth when I was in medical school, which was a long, long time ago.”

“Not as long as my youth was. Of that, I am certain,” Brook jested with you, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, “And I bet you could still sing if given the appropriate circumstances.” You returned the gentle nudge with your bicep before lulling your head over the curvature of his firm shoulder.

“I highly doubt we would find ourselves in those rare circumstances, Bone-Daddy,” you snickered at him, enjoying the subtle hiccup in his tinkering atop the keys at the bestowal of such a title.

“And if I were to ask you to sing with me, Liebchen?” he asked, briefly resting his head atop yours and nuzzling against you. His hair tickled your skin as he rested his undead body against yours. The rambunctious merriment aboard the vessel broke you away from Brook’s question, prompting you to raise your head from its position on his shoulder as you witnessed the stupidity your captain’s were involved in.

Each captain had managed to locate several bugs and beetles aboard the vessel, drawing a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Thousand Sunny. It seemed that each captain had chosen a bug, beetle or arachnid: those creatures needing to touch the chalk ring of the circle the fastest to determine a clear winner amongst the Nakama.

Shaking your head with a warm, melodical chuckle at how much your captain was letting himself engage with the two other captains in their idiocy, you allowed the warmth to spread up to your cheeks. You were proud of your captain in his vulnerability to engage with them in this way.

Brook concluded his piano concerto to the absence of applause now the attention was on the insects in front of the captains. You turned to Brook and gave him a soft round of kind applause with your hands, to which he bowed his head in response. Cheers and hollers were thrust into the air at the engagement of the insect race, prompting you both to shake your heads as your eyes remained fixed on Brook’s.

“Will you?” Brook asked once more, elevating his hand to capture your own beneath his, “Will you sing with me, Liebchen? Something small and familiar to you?” You sighed in response, upturning your brows and allowing a soft smile to elevate against your lips. He held onto hope, his hand giving yours a small squeeze in eager anticipation of your answer.

“I would adore singing with you, Brook,” you sighed breathlessly, “Lead me in song, and I’ll follow the melody you set.” The skeletal man, should flesh be imagined on his features, would be beaming a broad and enthusiastic smile at your willing participation.

He reached within the opening of the piano, pulling out a small instrument with four strings and a rotating handle at the base. Several indented cogs and keys clacked at the sides beneath his skilled fingers, the music springing from the instrument sounded not so dissimilar to a violin with the dual tonality of piped bags.

“This is a hurdy-gurdy, if you haven’t seen one of its make before,” he informed you with enthusiasm. You nodded down at the instrument as he performed with chords and melody over the clacking and winding, stringed instrument.

“Do you know any melodies to this progression?” he asked as he played a few minor keys in sequence, “I know it would be somber, but I would love to hear you sing something like-.” His words were stolen from him as you began to lilt your voice in a familiar tune from your childhood.

Although over time the lyrics in certain passages became lost to you, the intention was there with each skilled fluttery phrase. This melody was bittersweet and melancholy, the song depicting a foreign land where death and grief would no longer hold purchase over those who flee to its comfort.

There was no mention of a lover, nor whisper of romance within the phrases - yet each lyric fleeing from your lips had the skeletal man falling deeper into the trenches of his adoration and admiration for you. As he learnt the melody and the repetition of the chorus, his voice joined your melody in harmony: skillfully floating in perfect pitch within the realms of your vocal skill.

As the melody ceased, silence once again surrounded you: the world once again free of the colorful atmosphere you were painting with your song. You were in your own little world with the Soul-King, Brook, beside you. Barely comprehending your actions, you leant forward and brushed your painted lips against the bone occupying the space his lips once were.

Drawing up the heels of your palms, you collected his cheekbones within them and held him firmly as you pressed several more, soft kisses against his boned lips. It was an unusual feeling, teeth where lips should be, bones where cheeks should be, cold aura of hollows where the fluttering eyelashes of a lover would belong.

Breaking away your lips from his face, you gazed longingly into the dark sockets of his eyes. No word was spoken between you as you held your breath. He turned his face away from you, shaking his head lightly as if battling an internal argument with himself. Your brows triangulate upwards in the center of your forehead, eyes wide and innocent as you bite at your cheek nervously. Resolving his internal struggle with a huffed breath, he turned back towards you.

Claiming both of your hands within his own, he gently squeezed at your digits.

“I never, in all my days in this skeletal body, have longed to have lips as much as I do now,” he confessed in a dark whisper. You floated your eyes between the hollowed sockets, searching for further insight to his feelings.

His sorrow was depicted within his tone, his face remaining vacant at each uttered confession, “I have no flesh, no muscle, no organ: I am only bone. I have no heart, my soul is all that remains. I have nothing to offer you in this life-.” You had no choice but to break him out of his spiraling thoughts with your own argument.

“-All of those things are untrue, Brook. Aside from the physical attributes, don’t you dare reduce yourself to merely the parts you left behind,” you chastised him with your verbal warning. He was shocked at your passion, feeling the heat radiating off your body as you drew up further arguments to present to him.

“You have no lips? I am more than capable of allowing you to borrow mine,” you spoke with no hint of irony, nor jest within your tone, “No flesh, no muscle, nor organ? Those are just the tangible surroundings for the spirit within all of us. Are we not merely vessels for our souls to use as hosts?”

Brook remained speechless, hanging on your every word as the fire of your passion ignited your tongue with sparks and flashes.

“You are only bone? No heart?” Your anger now truly evident on your features, “How dare you reduce yourself to less than all that you are,” you broke away his grip on your hands, and began to rise to your feet from the position beside him on the stool, “Your heart is your music, your soul is depicted in the care you have for your crew. I feel it, Brook.”

He cowered back against the piano, the hurdy gurdy dropping limply on the floor: discarded and abandoned. No crew spared the two of you a glance in your quarrel, choosing to remain solely fixated on the insect race, now turned into gladiator death-matches within the chalk circle.

Brook was in awe, watching your passion ignite in your eyes as you scold him with your words and bless him with your compliments. In all your encounters together: each time the Polar Tang met with the Thousand Sunny, he was entranced by your rapport and support for your crew. Your soothing words and answers to his unashamed lust presented to you had him blushing, but your attention now has him soaring with the reignition of his absent heartbeat.

From your position now standing, you brushed off your dress and shook your head to rid the prior passion from elevating further. There were no regrets from offering him a kiss, not even the absence of his lips inhibited you from pressing your affection into his bones. At a huff of your breath, you lowered your tone to be in a kinder pitch, softening your features as you turned back towards the skeleton.

“I will not stand for such self-degradation, especially with my occupation serving aboard the Polar Tang,” you extend your hand out to him, a soft smile slowly creeping up against your cheeks, “For what it’s worth, I adore you, Brook. I have always held you in the highest regard.”

“The highest regard? Even with only the parts I’ve left behind?” he uttered his question barely above a whisper, seeking out further explanation within your orbs, “I am only a skeleton, afterall.” You sighed, rotating your neck atop your shoulders and stepped further towards him. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, your lips lingered for a moment longer against his cranium before you simply walked away from him.

Feeling truly no need to draw out an explanation for your dismissal of his question, you felt your heart break for the Soul King. You had already confessed your admiration for him, uplifted him with your words and then wordlessly expressed your affection for him with a soft kiss. The skeletal face now had several painted hoops from your pursed lips written on his bones, a memorial of love artistically indented into his absent skin.

Staggering in his rigidity, a boney hand reached out for you as you attempted to retreat back towards your crew. His essence was screaming to unify with you, to lead you in more intentional touches against his corporeal form.

“I-I’m sorry. I only meant-...” he circled his boney fingertips around your wrist and gently tugged you to return towards him, “...-I cannot kiss, nor embrace you, in the manner to which I desire most. The others aboard can give that which you seek, commit those acts with you. Why would you choose to engage in this way with me when there are so many others available to you?”

You exhaled slowly from your nose, turning to face the Soul-King. You stood between his parted knees, leaning down while seeking out his chin with your fingertips. Apprehensively cupping his jaw, you leant down to hold your lips a whiskers length away from his pearly teeth.

“Because you’re who I want, Bone-Daddy,” you confessed down to him, smiling as you touched your forehead against his. He reveled in the warmth rolling from your body to his own, feeling your smile mirrored with his spirit. If he had eyelids, he would close them as you did your own within the arms of one another.

Elevating his left hand, his slender fingers cupped your cheek and guided you in towards his skeletal mouth. Following his lead, you pressed your lips tenderly against the cool bones of his teeth, feeling the divots beneath your pursed flesh. He held your cheek against his face, tracing soothing circles over your wrist with the tips of his phalanges in his thumb.

Cheers and an uproar of hooted hollers erupted from the three crews, tearing your attention away from one another as you witnessed an exchange of Berry from Shachi, Killer and Nami. The wagers the crews placed on the variety of small creatures in the gladiator ring were as freely given as the drinks concocted by the skilled hands of the Straw-Hat chef.

Joining your laughs with your crews, you both held each other firmly engulfed within your arms. The Soul-King nestled his head between your breasts as you soothed your hands within his hair. After several moments remaining this way, you felt the tips of Brook’s fingers trailing curiously up your spine.

“Purple, you said?” he hummed coyly against your chest, his fingers brushing with the hem of the back of your dress, “Violet and lavender with a gold trim?” You chuckled warmly, feeling his head turn slightly in your embrace, his chin placed firmly between your breasts as he looked up at you with his jaw seeming to smile up at you.

“And corset-laced, gold ribboning in the cleavage,” you smiled, smoothing over his hair as you collected his cheek within the heel of your palm. You scrunch your nose at him, gazing through half-hooded lashes playfully down into the hollow abyss of his eye sockets.

“Would you like to see them?”

#one piece #x reader #op brook #soul king brook #brook #brook x reader #bone daddy brook #op brook x reader #fluff #kisses #all the cute things #validating emotions #platonic heart pirates #heart-pirate reader #supernova trio

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wooahaes · 6 months

Text

team effort

pairing: non-idol!performance unit & gn!reader

genre: fluff + roommates au <3

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: food/candy mentions!

daisy's notes: themst :( <3

“I’m home—” Minghao had called out, only to stop in his tracks at the sound of plastic bags rustling. All four of you were sitting on the floor now, working diligently at… some task you’d decided to amuse yourselves with. “What the hell are you doing…?”

Normally, he could depend on things being relatively normal when he came home to you four together. Usually if anything weird was going on, it was the direct result of Soonyoung and Jun (and sometimes you) drinking while Chan sat by and watched with amusement and a phone to record the antics. Yet today seemed weird on a different level. Last Halloween, things had been far more normal: the five of you had gone to a Halloween party together. This year… Someone had moved the coffee table aside, the sofa and chairs back, giving all of you ample room to sit on the floor. Empty bags of different brands of Halloween candy were neatly stacked aside, and all four of you had a Halloween-themed bowl in your lap or between your legs, dutifully sorting the candy into five piles.

He made his way in. “Hi?”

Chan looked up. “Oh. You’re home.” He looked back down to his bowl, fishing through it again. He said nothing else: no warm greeting, no questions of how work went… He was just focused on his candy again, picking up a piece and reaching out to drop it in one of the piles.

“What are you guys doing?” Minghao furrowed his brow.

“We bought Halloween candy and we’re sorting it so we can all get what we want,” you said with this ‘isn’t it obvious?’ tone to your voice. He caught the way you and Soonyoung rolled your eyes, although the subtle smile on the latter’s face gave away that it was purely to poke fun at you for how serious you were taking this. It made Minghao wonder who’s idea this was to begin with now—he could easily see you coming up with it and either Soonyoung or Jun getting excited and dragging the rest of the group in on it.

“Okay… But what about me?”

One of Jun’s hands shot out, pointing at one of the piles. “I know which ones you like.”

Minghao nodded slowly, and turned to continue to his shared room with Jun. He returned to the group, still dutifully sorting away, now changed out of his work outfit. He lowered himself onto the couch, watching as the four of you kept sorting in silence. He found himself smiling a little, too: sometimes living with the four of you could be… a lot, to put it simply, but other times it would be like this. There was something so wholeheartedly endearing about watching his four roommates sort out the candy they liked best, all while taking Minghao into account as well.

Chan called your name after a moment, looking up. “Did you want the Hersheys, or was that Soonyoung?”

“... Lee Chan, please tell me you haven’t been giving Soonyoung my candy.”

Chan barely managed to apologize before the three of you started to voice your complaints. He’d been giving you the Crunch bars that were supposed to go to Soonyoung, and that meant he needed to sit down and sort through your pile and Soonyoung’s to fix the mistake. Rude ass! How dare you! Hershey bars and Crunch bars were different!

Minghao rose, making his way over to the empty space. “Which one is which?” He said, sitting down. “I’ll sort through them.”

Immediately, Chan was thanking him for saving him from further scorn. Minghao merely chuckled, putting himself to work as he listened to Soonyoung bring up if the five of you were going to pull together matching costumes again this year.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, toying with a small piece of candy wrapped in shiny orange foil. “It was a lot of work last year…”

“But it was cute,” Jun said. “I still have pictures I haven’t posted.” (Purely because Jun changed his phone background to one of them once October began.)

Chan shrugged. “We’re cutting it kind-of close.”

“Oh my god,” you immediately looked up. “Guys. We can be the Scooby Doo characters. Soonyoung is Scooby.”

Chan immediately pointed, “Yes! I don’t want to be a dog again. Soonyoung can do it.”

Soonyoung rolled eyes, but he was smiling again. “Everyone knows Scooby Doo, though. Are you sure?”

Minghao said nothing as he continued to work, listening to the rest of the group as they planned things out. He definitely didn’t object to being designated as Daphne (he’d figure out something fun to do with the outfit… and maybe he’d dye his hair, too—he hasn’t gone ginger in a while), listening as Chan and you bickered over who would get to be Fred… only for you to turn the title over to Chan when you realized you could dress up as Shaggy and hang out with Soonyoung. It left Jun with being Velma, but he didn’t mind: he just said something about liking her smarts. Minghao placed another mini Hershey bar into your pile of candy, and pocketed one for himself.

Just as a little treat for later. He’d just owe you one if you noticed.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

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milkytheholy1 · 4 months

Text

It's my favourite colour

Request: I don’t really know if your ask box isnopen so I really hope it is.

could I maybe ask for a rise Donnie x reader (female is preferable but Gender neutral is alright with me) where the reader’s favorite color is purple and she always wears it. Then one day she’s sitting in the lab with Donnie when he can’t stop staring and eventually the reader makes a joke like: “what? You wanna kiss me or smth?” And he just takes it seriously and nods.

I dunno. Brain doing brain things.

----------------------------------------------------------

The lair was oddly quiet to say it was so close to the weekend, while the two days off didn't really mean anything to the turtles, it meant a lot to you and April. Those two days would give you a break from school and work, allowing you to chill out at home and in the lair with the boys.

Speaking of which, you couldn't see any of the turtle brothers as you entered their underground home, which was weird, to say the least. Your black detective coat hung around your form, protecting your insides from the cold blizzards up above. The edges of the coat swayed romantically as you stalked around the lair; assuming the teens to be pulling another prank on you.

However, no prank came. They were simply nowhere in sight, not even Splinter or Draxum were around. But the tell-tale sound of machine parts roaring in the distance alerted you to where one turtle could be; your favourite turtle too. You skipped towards Donnie's lab, you had actually been meaning to talk to the turtle, you drastically needed someone to reread your English paper and Donnie was just the guy.

Walking into the wide metal doors, the smell of oil and burnt iron invaded your senses. Over in the corner of the room, with his shell facing towards you, was Donnie.

"Hey, D." you beamed, already giddy by his presence. You strolled up to his side, watching as he tinkered with parts you couldn't even name, "Greetings," was all he said. You looked around the expansive lab, searching for something specific in mind, "If you're looking for your chair, it's over by Shelldon." Donnie stated, not even looking away from his project.

You blushed, he knew you so well or were you just becoming predictable. Patting Shelldon's lifeless head, you picked the chair up, knowing better than to drag it across the floor. Once it was perched not too closely to Donnie's side, you shimmied off your coat and draped it across the back of your seat.

Donnie gave you a side eye, studying yet another purple outfit. Did you know how much you were killing him by wearing his colour? Did you even know what it was doing to him? You had been wearing purple all week, coming down in extremely fashionable outfits that all followed the central theme of purple.

It's like you were playing some game, a very sick and sadistic little game. But Donnie couldn't help to swoon over your accidental actions too, well he assumed they were accidental. He knew you shared a similar interest in the colour purple, but at the same time, he never knew one person besides himself could own this much purple fabric.

"What're you looking at?" you mumbled, dusting off some lingering fur that lined the inside of your coat. Donnie stuttered, flailing the small drill in his hands around, "N-nothing, absolutely nothing!" You quirked a brow at his behaviour, you know someone doesn't just stare at you if they didn't have anything to say.

"Oh, ok." Donnie relented, he placed down the drill, still trying to act aloof, "You- you look good in purple, I've seen you around the lair wearing that colour, my colour, all week." you remained quiet, unsure what this meant. Was Donnie trying to make a move on you or monopolise the colour purple?

"W- thank you, I think purple looks good on you too." you hummed, priding yourself on seeing his cheeks deepen in colour. It was like Donnie had been shot by Cupid's arrow, his eyelids had drooped, his smile had become wobbly and his sighs became louder. He was totally, utterly, stupidly in love with you.

"What?" you threw out a nervous giggle, your own cheeks turning rosy at the look he was giving you; full of care and warmth. You pulled at the sleeves of your shirt, fingers fumbling to distract the onslaught of nerves that took over your mind, "You wanna kiss me or something?" it was meant to be a joke, something to pull you away from the glistening pool in his eyes.

But when Donnie just nodded along, completely at ease with the reality of the situation, you felt your brain stutter. With wide eyes, you pointed a shaking finger at yourself, "Wait, really? With me?" you questioned. Donnie held back a laugh, but the notorious smirk he was known for graced his lips, "I believe I do, w-would you like to do...that with me?"

He wished he could have said something sweeter than that, but thoughts about feelings and actually feeling feelings weren't really his thing; not that he really tried to make it his thing either.

Fortunately, you recreated his previous actions and shook your head rapidly. Donnie's dopey grin grew larger in size, his cheeks stinging with just how much he was smiling. You both leant forward, perhaps too eager as you hit your foreheads together. But with the awkward laugh aside, you eventually melted into each other with ease.

"Hey, D, we're bac- WHOA!" Leon gasped, the pizza box in his hands dropped to the floor, "Oh ho hooo," he began laughing, not really caring that this was a very private moment for his brainiac twin brother. Donnie yelled at him, throwing random nuts and bolts until Leo fled the scene. Though he did poke his head back in to deliver one more line, "If you dress up in blue all week will you kiss me too?"

"LEO!"

#fandom #fan #fanfiction #fanfic #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #donnie tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello

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beatrixstonehill2 · 5 months

Text

"OK, guys, don't get mad.... Buuuut I'm detransitioning! I know, I know, I said I wasn't thinking about it. But what trans girl doesn't occasionally fantasize about what it'd be like, especially those of us who went on blockers and never went through male puberty. Sooo, I didn't think about it super often. Like people would occasionally ask me if I wanted to detrans and I'd shrug and be like, "I dunno..... maybe someday? Who knows!" I never seriously considered it outside of like shower thoughts or the occasional jerk off session before work....

But I met this girl, Alexia..... Guys. She is beyond fine. She's absolutely beautiful. She contacted me out of nowhere and asked if I wanted to hook up. This beautiful cis girl with boobs even bigger than mine. And lol, yes I know mine are way too big as it is. Just another reason to detrans, my boobs make me soooo dysphoric! Ugh! I can't believe I ever thought I was a girl..... Alexia got me thinking a lot about myself, and made me realize I'm totally just a femboy. Like I'll wear dresses and makeup, but I want no boobs, no big fat estrogen booty. I want to be lean, and to grow some facial hair maybe.....

Alexia started talking to me on our first date about how a lot of trans girls are really femboys and they just don't know. Especially us ditzy ones that go on blockers so young and never go through boy puberty. She miiiight've told me how hot it was if I were to detrans and try out becoming a femboy. I told her about how I hate having huge boobs and looking like some dumb college slut who's pushed out a dozen kids already. Like look at the stretch marks on these udders! I told her I wanted a slim, elegant figure, and to embrace having a cock, not hide it. That I wanted mine to be really big..... She agreed, she said she wants a sexy feminine boyfriend she can go dress shopping with and share makeup, but who can also fuck her good, get her pregnant. I told her I'm not experienced as a top and she just shook her head.

'You poor, dumb boy,' she said. 'You probably can't because all that estrogen turned your cock flaccid and pathetically small.'

She wants me on testosterone ASAP. She already helped me make the call to schedule my top surgery, to get rid of my boobs.... We only met a couple weeks ago..... She wants me to be a boy now, and I'm not about to say no. ❤️ Goodbye girly body and big fat udders, I'm detransitioning like a good boy. My girlfriend is very needy and bought me penis growth pills. She wants me to have a huge, meaty cock and wants to teach me how to use it like a guy.... She's gonna teach me to top her, and more importantly, she wants me to get her pregnant to prove what a man I'm becoming..... I told her I don't plan on getting super macho and she said of course not. I'll always be lean and elegant, and she'll even peg me when I've been especially good..... But she did tell me one thing..... I'm not allowed to masturbate. I can only cum two ways: If I'm topping her, or if she's pegging me, which I'll only get as a reward if I can please her like the boy I'm meant to be. Guys.... I think I might be in love. Either way, so long to being a girl. ❤️"

#mtftm kink #mtf detrans kink #detrans kink

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wildflowerluver · 1 year

Text

cherry

steve harrington x fem!reader

steve has a habit of ordering your opposite

cw: eating/food, she/her pronouns, steve is so in love, reader struggles making decisions, one slight nsfw comment

wc: 1.1k

༺♡༻

hawkins summers are brutal.

being a landlocked state meant no access to an ocean, otherwise known as the best place to cool off.

steve made sure the two of you avoided lover’s lake like the plague too.

it was crowded, murky, and filled with far too many people that steve would be okay with never seeing again.

you and steve find time together whenever you can. his pool is usually occupied by the party during the day and occasionally the night but with him working at family video and you at the record store, days are often spent dealing with nagging customers instead of each other.

steve calls you while you’re at work. you know he is too, probably bored out of his mind from organizing movies.

both you and him are very grateful neither of your bosses check the phone log. either of you would without a doubt be questioned on the multitudes of calls between family video and jason lee’s music store.

“hey,” he greets. “got any plans for tonight?”

you twirl the phone cord around your finger. “i was hoping my boyfriend was available to hang out but he hasn’t asked me. so i mean i guess i’m free.”

no matter the length you and steve have been dating, the shameless flirting and honeymoon stage hasn’t seemed to waver.

“well if he hasn’t asked you then i guess it’s my time to shine,” he started. “what time do you get off?”

“six ‘clock,” you answer.

“i’ll pick you up then.” he doesn’t explain your plans but you don’t mind. being with steve is enough.

“it’s a date,” you confirm.

you faintly hear the bell chime in the background on his end.

“alright i gotta get going, new wave of customers,” steve groans. “i’ll see you soon, though. i love you!”

you blush. “i love you too.”

___

you’re out the door at 6:01, the extra minute needed for clocking out and collecting your things.

just like he promised, steve is waiting in the parking lot. he’s out of the car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed.

you falter for a moment at his appearance. he’s shed his family video vest, leaving him in just a white t-shirt with two stripes and jeans, specifically the ones that hug his thighs perfectly.

“hi baby,” steve greets. his arms circle around you, pulling you into him as he sighs. “feels like i haven’t seen you in forever.”

you giggle. “i saw you yesterday.”

he shakes his head. “too long.”

the convenience store is right down the road from where you work. steve holds your hand as you walk in, dragging you through the aisles until you get to the back as you laugh.

the slurpee machine is thankfully working though you were sure if it wasn’t, you would’ve heard about it. it once went down during memorial day weekend and every customer that came into your work complained about it. it was brutal.

steve leaves you in the back, letting you know he’s going to grab some other snacks and will be back in a few moments.

you look towards the slurpee machine, head tilting slightly as you watch the drink rotate throughout the barrel.

a hand snaking around your waist snaps you out of your trance.

“what flavor are you going to get, baby?”

he’s pressed so close to you, whispering the question like it’s the most important secret in the world. you know if you call him out on his special awareness, he’ll claim that ‘this is the one time it’s cool enough in public for me to hold you.’ you don’t mind. steve’s your boy, the closeness is nice.

“i dunno,” you mumble. small decisions like this stress you out.

his hand around you squeezes your hip. silent reassurance.

it takes a few moments for you to pick. both look good and you take your time clicking your tongue to imagine what flavor you taste.

“cherry,” you finally decide, pointing to the side with the red slush.

“good choice,” he compliments.

steve kisses your forehead before stepping forward. like the gentleman he is, he grabs two cups, larges, and fills them up; one cherry and one blue raspberry.

he pays too and you pout. “i wanted to treat you.”

“next time,” steve promises, pressing his lips quickly to yours.

you know he’s lying.

you settle back into the passenger's seat of his car. steve’s slurpee sits firmly in the cupholder. his hand falls down to your leg and you squirm when his cold fingers touch your thigh. steve finds it hilarious.

it takes you a bit to get to your destination. once arriving, steve parks at the edge of the quarry.

it’s cooled down significantly, allowing steve to shut of the car’s ac and roll the windows down. it’s still sticky out but the cold slurpee in your hand helps that.

tears for fears plays softly out of the bmw’s sound system. you know it’s from the cassette you gifted him. perks of working at a record store.

you talk quietly back and forth about wherever comes to mind: your work schedule, the stars, plans for the weekend. but then you go quiet.

“hey stevie?”

“yeah baby?”

when you don’t immediately respond, steve’s head lolls to meet your eyes.

you’re curled up in the passenger's seat, legs tucked to your chest and head resting against the cool leather. you’re staring at him. he’s surprised he hasn’t felt your gaze until this point. but that’s how things typically are between the two of you; silence is never uncomfortable.

steve rests his hand on your naked knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. “everything okay?”

you nod, biting your lip to suppress a giggle.

“can we trade?” you smile and for a second steve thinks you don’t realize what you’re doing.

he sighs, though a smile tugs at the edges of his lips.

“of course, baby.”

you grin as he hands his blue raspberry slurpee and he takes your cherry one. success.

“you know, if you weren’t so cute i wouldn’t have traded,” steve huffs.

he’ll never admit it, or maybe not anytime in the future, but he makes it a point to order the opposite of what you get.

if you’re out to eat and decide on a salad, steve will get a burger with extra fries. you pick chocolate ice cream and steve is ordering vanilla (with sprinkles). whatever you decide, even if steve doesn’t want it, he gets the contrast.

so, when you inevitably ask to switch, your other option is always your favorite.

like now, when blue raspberry seems like the better flavor over cherry.

“come on stevie. you should know that my favorite color is purple,” you titter, poking your tongue out to show the result of mixing the two slurpees.

steve beams.

“i do baby, i do.”

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

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ghulehunknown · 4 months

Text

Mountain x AFAB Reader

NSFW — MDNI

Summary: You and Mountain take a break from your duties to have a little fun in his room.

CW/Tags: sex toy use, tail fucking, masturbation, unprotected sex (P in V and anal), double penetration

Word Count: 2.4K

“You bought how many toys, Mounty?”

“Um, just a few.”

“It looks like a lot.”

“Yes, well - Santa came early.” You stared blankly at him as he shrugged. “I didn’t know what to get so I just got the ones that I dunno, looked the best and had good reviews?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well I guess you get to choose which one you want.”

“Ah, okay. Well this one here also goes up my ass. Which might be kinda nice. Um okay, these two vibrate, but one has a remote…” He flicked his eyes up to yours. “Uhh. And one of those extends down to my taint, I think? Oh, that’s the one Copia suggested. But it should feel nice for you too, you know, if we - yeah. This one is just a silicone dildo. Oh, and this one goes over my balls.”

“The vibrating ones sound nice,” you said, nodding.

“I can’t choose. What if I just…I dunno, use them all?”

“All of them?” you asked incredulously. “Think you can handle that?”

“I guess it’s time for me to be a ho ho ho,” he remarked with a small smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly joke. He never failed to put a smile on your face. You supposed that was why he was your favorite.

You looked back on the events from the days prior that led you into his bedroom for this very exchange. You were making Secret Satan cards for the children’s hospital in the library, making out with each other in between cards, desperately trying not to make any noise while the other Siblings were working or studying - and failing, miserably. He caressed your body with his tail, completely taking you by surprise.

You had made a one-off comment, without even thinking. “Damn, you fuck with that thing too?”

“Yeah actually I do,” he replied, his face stoic but eyes twinkling.

“Hm, I’d like to see that,” you said - again, what were you thinking? This was insane. Plus, he was one of Cardinal Copia’s head ghouls…you really couldn’t afford to distract him. But the holidays were here, which meant the band was getting a lengthy and much needed break. So maybe this was your chance at giving into your desires.

You finished up the cards, stacking them neatly in a pile. You were supposed to be helping the Siblings decorate and Mountain was supposed to meet the other ghouls in the mess hall before Mass. But…you had more important matters to attend to. You had agreed, since this would be your first time with a ghoul and adding a tail in the mix, that he should try a new experience too.

You walked together down the hallway towards the Ghoul dormitories, arms linked as you people watched. There were multiple Siblings hanging up garlands and lights along the corridors and you even spotted Papa Terzo terrorizing some young Sisters of Sin.

“Jingle Balls, suck my balls, make my chimney rise. Oh what fun it is to cum on my amore’s thighs,” he sang, draping tinsel around one’s neck and dangling some mistletoe in another’s face.

“…and I heard Satan’s hells bells on the rooftop, I swear it, I did!” you heard Nihil say to Imperator who merely said “Of course, Papa,” as she led him down the hall towards the chapel.

Finally, you made your way past the hustle and bustle of the busy Ministry hallways to the Ghoul dorms. As one of the top Clergy member’s head ghouls, Mountain actually had his own room. But he shared a wall with Swiss and Dew on either side, who would tease him relentlessly if they heard any goings on in the night.

So you opted for the middle of the evening, when everyone was likely to be at Mass. And here you were, your very first dick appointment with a ghoul.

You both kneeled in front of each other in his bed, and leaned into kiss one another, his arms holding onto yours and his tail wrapping around your thigh.

Fuck, maybe being with a ghoul would be better…it was almost like being held by three hands.

The tail was surprisingly soft, not sharp at the end even though the arrowhead tip looked pointy. It approached you just as softly as Mountain wanted, and you knew he could be just as rough as he wanted to be too.

You ran your hands through his hair, his short dark locks tickling your fingertips. His kiss was passionate, deep. His lips were soft and inviting.

He gingerly moved his tail up your legs, in between them, and slowly slipped the tip between your labia. You inhaled sharply as the fleshy bit met your sensitive bud, pressing on it almost like a button.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed.

He paused, pulling his tail sway slightly. “You okay?” he said, holding your face in his hands.

“Yeah, I - yeah, no - god, it’s just so…fuck, it feels amazing. Please, do it again.”

“My pleasure.” He re-entered, maneuvering around your folds and finding your slick pooled near your entrance. He poked around, gathering your arousal and sliding it around, back up to your clit and focusing there. “You’re so wet already. Good girl,” he purred. His cock twitched against your leg, bobbing up and down as he slowly grinded against you.

“Should we put a cock ring on you?” you whispered breathlessly, smiling as you nodded towards the bedside table.

Carefully, you helped him put the vibrating ring on. He spread lube on it and his whole member while you warmed some up in your hands and spread it along his perineum.

“Mmm,” he moaned quietly at your touch, closing his eyes.

You clicked the toy to its lowest vibration setting.

“Oh, god! Shit, they weren’t kidding! Ahhh. This is, oh fuck, wow!” His hand flew to his cock, which was bobbing up and down involuntarily.

“And that’s just the first setting. I’m guessing the other toys are a no-go?” you asked, hovering over him still, straddling his thigh.

He let out a sound that didn’t sound too convincing. “Yeeeeah…? Um, this is fine. Actually -” He clicked the vibrator off and handed you the remote for it. “When it looks like I need it.”

“I’ll tease you with it,” you said, trailing your hand along his balls and up his shaft.

“You better not,” he said, biting at your nose and missing as you pulled your head back in time. “All right. First time getting tail fucked. Ready?”

You rolled your eyes and pretended to punch him in the chest. “Yes, I’m ready.” How much different could it be, really? “I’m more concerned for you. You’ve never used a cock ring before, let alone a vibe,” you said, widening your eyes.

“We’ll be okay,” he said. Something in the soothing way he spoke, ugh you could just melt into him.

He leaned back against the headboard, his arm bent behind his head to prop himself up. “Ahhh,” he uttered, hissing, guiding his hand over yours stroking his cock. “Sssoo good.”

He looked you in the eyes as he touched himself, bringing his tail in between your legs again, pushing past your folds this time and going straight for your wet core.

You leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands behind you, moaning as he entered you, tossing your head back as your neck went slack. You straddled his waist, almost like you were scissoring.

You watched his tail slide in and out of you repeatedly, moving in a wave-like pattern with a dexterity that a finger or a cock couldn’t provide.

Your body relaxed and you slid onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Finally, the tip of his tail found your g-spot, and as you shuddered against his legs and let out a guttural sound you didn’t even know you could make, he made an “ah-ha!” sound and you could feel him add more pressure to your spot. All the muscles in his tail flexed, going tap tap tap along your walls. You clenched around him.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” he said, letting out an amused chuckle. “You’re fun.”

You shook yourself out of a trance-like state, almost entirely forgetting he was there. You forgot he was watching you like you were his own little porno, touching himself to the vision of you before him.

You leaned against his leg, resting your head by his knee. You lazily tickled along his thighs, in between his legs, caressing him, and looking into his eyes as you kissed his inner thigh. You shifted more on your back, arching it, resting one leg on his shoulder so his tail could go deeper inside you. He held onto your ankle by his shoulder, kissing it.

His tail flicked in and out of you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He slipped out of you and up to your clit, massaging it with the tip.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaimed. He tapped it against you in rapid succession - taptaptaptaptaptap - fucking hell! It had to be the musician in him, the quick and agile reflexes. He rubbed the upper part of his tail against your length, before flicking the arrowhead against your clit repeatedly. “Mounty, I’m going to cum! Fuck!!”

He held onto your leg, caressing it, while stroking himself with his other hand. He picked one motion and stuck with it - a firm, but gentle massage on your clit with his tailtip.

Your whole body quivered, your orgasm spilling over. You moaned and clutched onto his leg, biting into his skin to muffle the utterly pathetic moans you know would be coming out of your mouth.

“Ow, shit!” he exclaimed but you could barely hear him.

You bucked your hips against his tail to ride out the last smaller waves of your climax, before settling down again. He retracted his tail from between your legs, and you were left staring at the ceiling for a moment before hearing your name being called over and over again.

“Mmm?” you muttered. “Oh, sorry for biting you.”

He laughed. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you were enjoying yourself.”

You nodded feebly, feeling a little pathetic, but utterly blissed out.

“Think you have one more round in you?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, not even giving an answer.

He patted the mattress beside him. “C’mere.” He pulled you back up to your knees, which were trembling, between his legs. He held your chin in his hand and whispered, “You wanna know what it’s really like to get fucked?” You nodded in his palm. “Good girl.”

You straddled his waist, hovering over his still erect cock.

“Did you want to use protection?” he asked, leaning over to his drawer to reach inside for some condoms. You shook your head. “You sure?”

You nodded and said, “Yes. Please Mountain, please just fuck me.”

He handed you the ring vibrator remote, but spoke before fully relinquishing it to you. “You hold great power in your hands. Use it well.”

Fucking nerd. You laughed at his corny ass joke and nodded, saying, “Yes sir,” in a fake serious voice.

He leaned over for the lube bottle and spread some all over his hands, covering his tail with it then circling your asshole, getting it nice and wet. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he took your waist in his hands, guiding you over his cock, lining it up with your entrance, then sinking you down onto his lap.

Fuck, he felt so good. It was incredible. And very different from the tail. His cock was firmer, building a different kind of pressure but every bit as pleasurable. You both moaned as you sank slowly on him. You moved your hips up and down, already so tired from before, and starting to falter.

His tail wrapped around your ass before teasing and prodding around it, finally slipping in. The feeling, while out of this world, was incredibly overwhelming. You fell down on his cock with zero grace, shuddering and breathing loudly, moaning every few breaths.

“Mmm!” he groaned, grimacing. He said your name through gritted teeth.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s okay, it takes a lot more than your beautiful ass to hurt me,” he said with a smile, kissing your lips sweetly while giving your rear a smack. “Mm? Everything okay?”

“I can’t, Mounty, I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

With zero hesitation, he removed his tail from your rear end and started to pull himself out of your entrance.

“No, no, fuck, please that feels so good. I just can’t, my legs are fucking jello. I need you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” he said warmly. He picked you up, his strong hands grasping your waist as he slammed you up and down on his cock. He pummeled into you from below. “Just relax, I got this.”

“Ahhh, fuck!” you wailed, his tail entering your ass once more, this time without teasing the invitation but instead thrusting in with more force. You let your body slack against his, letting him do all the work.

“Remember your very important job?” he said, eyeing the remote that fell out of your hand.

You nodded, tears in your eyes from the intense sensations ripping through your body. You clicked the button, feeling the buzz of the ring on his cock rub against your clit everytime you fell back down on him. You bared down, grinding against the ring and rubbing yourself along his pubic bone. You clicked the next button, heightening the sensation for you both.

“Oh god - I’m not gonna last,” he grunted. “I’m going to cum. Is it okay if I finish inside you?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you said breathlessly.

“You sure? Last chance before I blow.”

“Stop being so polite and just fucking cum inside me!” you shouted.

“Christ, okay!” He groaned as he continued to fuck into you, jerking his hips forward as he shot warm semen inside you, spilling out. He stopped, still holding onto you, burying his face in your chest, breathing heavily. You sat on his cock, the buzz of the cock ring now sitting against your clit. From that and his tail still prodding away at your ass, you came again just a few seconds after him.

“See,” you began, breathing hard and climbing up to him. “When you asked if I wanted to know what it’s really like to get fucked, I swear I thought you were going to use your drumsticks.”

“The thought crossed my mind. So how was it? Any different? Just as good…better?”

“Yeah…like a really wiggly dick,” you answered truthfully.

He laughed boisterously at you. “I always appreciate your candor.”

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #ghost bc #ghost band smut #ghoul smut #ghost band ghouls #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #ghost mountain #mountain ghoul x reader #ghost band fanfiction

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guqin-and-flute · 1 month

Text

WIP...Thriday (aka proof I'm not dead and still writing)

An And A-Fu Makes 4 Chpt. 7 exerpt in which A-Fu and Wangji are equally bemused by each other

It turned out that his uncle was actually pretty funny. Not totally, like, ‘haha’ funny, but ‘different from what A-Fu was used to’ funny. A-Fu had always thought that his face was blank most of the time, but he found out that wasn't true--he smiled and frowned and looked worried and annoyed just like everyone else. His expressions were just super tiny compared to other people, so you had to study his face as hard as school, but A-Fu was getting the hang of it. If he didn’t get something, A-Yuan could usually interperate for him pretty good, ‘cause he was an expert Hanguang-jun interperatator. He knew what all the different tones of ‘A-Yuan’ meant when apparently it was supposed to be a whole sentence that meant ‘time for bed' or ‘too loud’ or ‘not that way’ or ‘did you finish your homework?’ or ‘do you want to play guqin with me?’

Uncle Wangji sorta reminded A-Fu of Gray-Father and how sometimes he looked so serious and scary to other people, but you just had to know what they meant to say on the inside. Except unlike Gray-Father, Uncle Wangji had never laughed in front of A-Fu; but when he and A-Yuan did something silly together, he sometimes had a little bit of Laughing Eyes, just like Blue-Father did. Maybe A-Fu was a gray, blue, and yellow father interperatator? Maybe after staying at the Jingshi, he could become an Uncle Wangji one, too!

Sometimes his uncle was ‘haha’ funny, usually by accident and usually because he didn’t really get A-Fu--a lot of the things he did seemed to confuse him; like how he liked mud and salamanders and toads, and how he hated wearing socks to bed, and how he got an idea to do things but then didn’t really think about how it might end up and then he fell over or broke something, sometimes. Then, Uncle Wangji would get a little wrinkle, right in between his eyebrows, like he was trying to figure out a hard math problem and his mouth would get all small and he would blink reaaaal slow. Sometimes, he even looked over at A-Yuan like he needed his help as an A-Fu Interpretator--which he kinda was, since he was A-Fu’s bestest friend in the whole entire world and knew him better than anyone.

Uncle Wangji definitely didn’t get Sneaking-and-Snooping, and when A-Fu actually really did surprise him a couple times, his uncle said all serious that he knew A-Fu was there, he just didn’t expect him to jump out and yell at him and A-Fu said uh-huh sure he did, suuure, and Uncle Wangji would just coolly say ‘good’ that A-Fu was sure--but he would say it like he knew that A-Fu was being sarcasms and was agreeing just to make him annoyed, which it did ‘cause that’s not how sarcasms worked, Uncle Wangji! And his uncle would say, without any hint of a smile, that he would try to remember that, which A-Fu figured was sort of like a joke and it made him laugh.

One day, when A-Fu got in trouble with his teacher because he had colored his whole tongue black with his paintbrush during class just because, he had been really anxious about when his uncle came to pick them up from school. After talking to the teacher for a bit at the desk, he came over and stood all tall in front of A-Fu. When he looked all the way up at him, he saw that scrunchy-confused wrinkle on his face but all he said was, “...Why?”

“Uh. I dunno.”

“....” Uncle Wangji said things with his silences best of anyone A-Fu knew, and this silence was like a whole bunch of question marks, like A-Fu was some sort of mystery. When he looked over at A-Yuan, who was waiting patiently by the door with his stuff all packed up, A-Yuan just shook his head and shrugged.

Uncle Wangji just looked back at him for another second, then just turned and walked right out the door, hand behind his back, not even waiting.

A-Fu assumed that that meant something like ‘let’s go home, you’re not in trouble, but what the heck’, so he just happily trotted out after him into the sunshine with A-Yuan next to him. He must have been getting better at understanding his uncle’s silences, because all that happened when they got back to the Jingshi was that he was handed a cool, damp cloth from the fancy wash basin in the corner and told, “Do not eat paint.”

He tried to explain around sticking out his tongue and scrubbing, “I wa’n’t ea’ing i’, I wath theeing if I coul’ color i’ all in,” but Uncle Wangji didn’t say anything else about it and just sat down at his table play his guqin.

#excuse weird sentence structure I've been moving shit around a LOT #Also featured in this chapter is me trying to see the absolute shortest easter egg of angst I can hide :) Not in this part but in another #my stuff #my fic #3zun raise jingyi au #Wangji visiting Xichen in the infirmary: Xiongzhang your son is weird #Xichen: All children are weird Wangji #Wangji: A-Yuan isn't. He's perfectly behaved #Xichen: [ever so gently] Didi...that's really weird

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ghostlygeto · 1 year

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pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

warnings: mentions nsfw things (“suggestive”?), so MDNI, mentions the same dildo from the last scenario lol, reader nd sakusa are drinking, first kiss moment, i dunno. same universe as the last sakusa thing i posted (shocked pikachu emoji), omi kind of pines hella hard

wc: 1.5k

“you should tell me a secret about yourself, kiyoomi,” his first name rolled off your tongue as if it lived there, you couldn’t remember the last time you had called him anything else. “and it has to be a real one, not something stupid!” you laughed slightly and took another drink of whatever alcohol the two of you had been sharing for the night.

“don’t you have to tell me a secret about yourself as well, then?” sakusa asked. he was thankful that his cheeks were already tinted pink from the alcohol, he didn’t have to worry about you noticing his blush from the use of his first name. “it’s only fair isn’t it?”

“you already know a big secret about me,” you remind him, rolling your eyes as he raised his eyebrows as if asking what secret. “remember? ‘tsumu doesn’t so lovingly call me dildo girl for no reason.”

“oh.” was all sakusa managed to get out, somehow forgetting about the incident that brought you two together in the first place. “but that can’t count, everyone masturbates, y/n. it’s normal.”

“but you saw the dildo! with your eyes! and according to ‘tsumu he like, swung it around and stuff!” you shouted playfully, cheeks and ears flushing red at the memory, “i still haven’t used it. and it was expensive, too. you guys should feel bad.”

“i don’t have to feel bad for anything,” sakusa shook his head, finishing his drink before grabbing both of you another one, “i didn’t do anything. i told him not to open the box.”

you huffed, grabbing the drink from sakusa (who kindly opened it for you, since you always struggled to on your own) before taking a big sip of it. “you should, i asked you to get the package and protect it with your life. you did not do that.”

sakusa laughed, not just a small chuckle but a real, genuine laugh. sometimes he felt like you were the only person that could get those out of him. “i don’t think you asked me to protect it with my life, but whatever helps you sleep at night i suppose. i’m sorry i didn’t protect your precious package with my life,”

this was probably your favorite side to kiyoomi. the alcohol in his system made him more laid back than usual, he’d feel comfortable laying his legs across your lap or draping his arm across the top edge of the couch, his hand barely ghosting your shoulder. plus he laughed a lot. little giggles, chuckles, and sometimes full blown belly laughs. he was a completely different person with you (and with the alcohol).

“so what’s your secret?” you ask, shoving his shoulder, “tell me a secret, kiyo. i want to know everything about you.”

something in your words gave him butterflies. everything about him? he wondered if you really meant that, if you wanted to know all the reasons he is the way he is, the color of his childhood bedroom or the name of his pet hamster when he was seven. or if you just wanted to know the things that all the other women wanted to know about him. his workout routine or how many women he’s slept with or how long his-

“kiyo,” you called him out of his thoughts, a concerned look on your face, “y’know if you keep your brow scrunched like that all the time you’re going to get wrinkles. and then girls wouldn’t find you as pretty anymore. are you gonna tell me a secret or do i need to kick you out of my apartment?”

“maybe i should keep doing it then, i don’t need women to find me attractive.” sakusa rolled his eyes, but thought for a second about a secret to tell you. he thought it only fair to tell you one equally as embarrassing as yours (even though yours was mostly funny and not really embarrassing). “i’ve never been kissed before.”

you tried to hide the shocked look on your face, “what? never? like not even once when you were a kid as a dare or something?” you didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but somehow you couldn’t believe a man as attractive as kiyoomi would have never have kissed someone before. “why not?”

“i was never interested in it,” he shrugged, taking another sip from the bottle in his hand, “and i’ve never met anyone worth wanting to kiss, y’know?” he didn’t ignore the shocked look on your face, giving you a small laugh in response. “you’re surprised, knowing what you know about me and you’re surprised i’ve never kissed anyone before?”

“i think it’s more surprising to hear you say you’ve never met anyone worth kissing before. i mean, you see bokuto, hinata and ‘tsumu on the daily. if i got to see them i’d want to kiss one of them for sure.” you teased, “maybe you just don’t like girls?”

“i’d die before kissing any of them, especially atsumu,” sakusa shuddered before shaking his head at you, “i know that i like women, y/n. it’s just a matter of finding the one that doesn’t disgust me.” he hesitated for a moment before sighing, “and it’s hard to find someone that wants to know me. not sakusa of msby, but me. like…”

“someone who wants to know kiyoomi,” you finished his sentence. you didn’t know how to tell him that’s how you wanted to know him. you wanted to know kiyoomi, not sakusa. and to an extent you do know kiyoomi, you’re one of the few people he’d ever let see him like this. but you still worried that he’d never fully open up to you. why did you deserve to know him like that? just because you’re his neighbor?

“right, someone who wants to know kiyoomi.” sakusa’s eyes fell to you, and you pretended to not feel his stare. “but how do i trust that the people i’m surrounding myself with want to know me? and not him.” it was a genuine question, sakusa didn’t know how to tell the difference between the two. that’s why he didn’t have any friends outside of the volleyball team.

and you.

“what about me?” you asked, eyes meeting his. if it weren’t for the alcohol in your system you likely wouldn’t be so bold, “do you trust me?”

with everything. he wanted to tell you, though thankfully he had enough control over his drunken words not to. “i do.”

“do i disgust you?”

“not even a little.”

he hadn’t realized it before, but sometime between him confessing about never having kissed someone before and right now, your faces had gotten much closer. he wasn’t sure he had ever been close to someone like this before, aside from maybe the one time atsumu got far too drunk and tried to kiss him (it took days for sakusa to feel clean afterwards). but this was different. it felt different, he didn’t mind being this close to you. nor did he care that he could feel your alcohol ridden breath on his face with every rise and fall of your chest.

“kiyoomi?”

“yes y/n?”

“can i be your first kiss?”

sakusa answered by closing the distance between the two of you, unsure of what to do when your lips had actually connected. his eyes were closed, he knew that much, but what was he supposed to do with his hands? was he supposed to move his head at all?

“kiyo, you can breathe,” you laughed as you pulled away, a smile spread across your face. “you’re as stiff as a board, if you’re going to be kissing women you need to learn to be a little looser.”

sakusa knew you wanted to know everything about kiyoomi, not sakusa. “i’m not going to be kissing women.” he grinned, leaning away from you now. “i think i need to be a little more drunk, though.” he tried standing up but you stopped him.

“more drunk? kiyoomi i think you’re plenty drunk,” you giggled, holding onto his wrist, trying to tug him back down onto your couch, “drunk enough to kiss me, that is.”

sakusa wanted to tell you that he didn’t need to be drunk to kiss you, it just made it easier. but he didn’t, he just sat back down next to you and turned his attention to the tv. “was i bad at it?”

“kissing?” you giggled again, “it wasn’t the worst first kiss i’ve ever had.” you shrugged, tracing the outline of his side profile with your eyes. you were pretty sure if angels existed on earth, kiyoomi would be one of them. “what did you think of it?”

“well i don’t have anything to compare it to,” he replied, “so i think it was nice.” sakusa didn’t know how to tell you the only reason it was nice was because it was with you.

not pictured: atsumu spamming you with snaps the next morning, freaking out over the fact that you sent him a video of you and kiyoomi kissing (you had to beg him not to mention it to omi)

reblogs, comments, nd likes appreciated ;3

#sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #selfship: kiyori #sakusa kiyoomi x reader

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cascade05 · 1 year

Text

DIY (Independent S/O Idea)

I see so many posts about Bakugo who takes care of his s/o and it’s cute and nice, but what if he was dating or married to someone who liked being alone and was used to taking care of themselves?

Warnings : Some language, unedited, also this is way longer than I thought it was gonna be, reader has a big-ass dog, ummmmmm... think that's it

☾ This is a little self-indulgent so bare with me ☽

So, before meeting Bakugo you lived alone. Maybe you had a dog or maybe you had a cat or a lizard, I dunno. Point is, you lived alone. And you liked it that way. You had grown up in a pretty full house without a moment of peace—which was fun and enjoyable sometimes—so, growing up, you knew you never wanted to live with another person EVER again. That also meant you wanted zero romantic relationships because no.

A romantic relationship involves two people who were willing to give to each other. Be it time, energy, or just a listening ear, they would give of themselves to their loved one all because they, well, loved them. You could give. You were very good at giving. Ever since you were a young, blubbering toddler, you gave things to others because it made you feel good to know they were happy. When you are older, you gave other tings—time, energy, money—you were very good at giving.

It was the taking part of the equation—the asking for help and support and love part—that you knew you'd struggle with. People said you could learn but you didn't want to. As a kid, you had spent your whole life giving, but people rarely gave things to you—toys, little gifts, sure. You got those things often enough, but the deeper things in life? The things that were a little harder to give? A listening ear? Empathy? Patience? Support? You didn't have a lot of that. So, you gave that to yourself the best you could because you were good at giving.

You were more independent than most and you were happy like that. You didn't want to learn how to take because you were more than content being by yourself, thinking by yourself, living for yourself... That sort of thing wouldn't be fair for your s/o and it wasn't like you wanted an intimate relationship so you remained single—a virgin in every physical sense of the word.

Then, he showed up. (Hehehehehehehehhehehehehe)

It was a normal evening for you. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on, you didn't feel weird, and your giant fluffy dog (self-indulgent, I know 😔) was lounging about at your feet while you worked. Normal. Your online business was going very well—yes, I'm talking entrepreneur kind of independent—and the ac was blowing the perfect temperature so things were normal—they were especially good, actually.

Then, he showed up.

Out of the blue, something crashed into your house—through your bedroom balcony, it sounded like. Your dog (Imma name him Biji (Short for Bijronson)—self-indulgent—but you can name him—or her—whatever, I guess...) Anyway, your dog shot up from his spot because of course he did, you did too. He trotted to the bedroom door—not a happy trot, but a cautious, purposeful one—and stood at it, watching whatever was going on.

You arrived next, eyes widening at the whole-ass man who fell into your apartment—into your life but you didn't know that yet. You knew who he was. Of course you knew who he was. The number two hero was a very noticeable man. He was large, a foot taller than you at least. His shoulder width was ridiculous and only enhanced by his small waste. Such a snatched thing. Truly a Doritos shape worthy of nacho cheese dreams. (Nacho cheese Doritos are mvp, don't fight me)

Then there was his stupidly handsome face. A scar ran down the right of it—from the edge of his hairline down to his upper neck. His light blond eyebrow was missing in the middle and his crimson eye was a little milky. He wasn't completely blind in it, but rumor said he would be soon. Most people said it wasn't a pretty sight but you always disagreed. Not only did it look badass, but it proved he went to hell and was strong enough to come back. Which was cool as fuck.

He was awesome—maybe a little bit of a jerk but you didn't need to like him as a person because you didn't know him a just a person. You knew him as Dynamight. As a hero, and he was a damn good hero. More often than not you would joke with your closest friends saying “If he's not Dynamight, I don't want it.“

“Dynamight is the bar.“

“He has to at least be six-foot Dynamight stature before I'll even think about it.“

Silly shit like that—all of which was just that. Silly. A joke. Never in a million years would you want to date Dynamight or any of the other pros you joked about. Your friends knew that. Everyone would share similar jokes before consoling their poor husbands or wives or boos or whatever because it was just a silly thing. You wouldn't even call what you had a celebrity crush. Dynamight and his companions were hot, attractive people. Simple as that. You appreciated the pictures, kay. And what they did for Japan, of fucking course.

We're getting off topic though. What was the topic again? Oh, right.

Dynamight was in your bedroom. On your bed. Your broken bed, might I add. All while you stood wide-eyed in your doorway, frozen as if you were the one who barged in on him. Then he slowly sat up, running a gloved hand through his sooty ash-blond spikes to rid it of glass. It pulled you out of your shocked state. It was then you realized Biji was barking and had been for awhile.

You moved to grab his collar just as the man stood up from his spot. You had been trying to sush your dog but those attempts came to a halt when you saw the condition the hero was in. Thankfully, it didn't seem life-threatening but, then again, you weren't a doctor and that shit looked like it hurted.

“Uh,“ you began, unsure of how to proceed.

The man looked around your room with what looked like disgust and you almost wanted to mouth off at him for the audacity before you realized he wasn't disgusted the dorky pictures of you and loved ones pasted on your dark walls. He looked confused. He turned around in your room a few times, eyeing the place and muttering confused curses. It was then you began to wonder how hard he had hit his pretty head.

You moved to straddle your strong dog who hadn't stopped barking completely but had calmed just a little. He was still on guard but you weren't scared—he sensed that.

“Hey, Mr—“ —were you supposed to say mr— “Dynamight?“

He looked at you. It was a sharp, unimpressed look and you wondered why until you saw his eyes dropped to your ramen pajama pants. The ones that said, “send noods.“ Not that they were embarrassing at all, you told yourself.

The man gave you and your barking companion a once over, gaze lingering on the large black and white dog you were effectively holding back. He looked tired, you noticed. Dynamight clicked his tongue before turning around and walking towards the sizable hole in your glass doors. “Wrong apartment,“ he mumbled and you gaped.

Ruining your beautiful and lovely bed because he was defending citizens from villains was one thing. You could let it pass cause he had a lot more shit to deal with than your glass-ridden floors and broken wall. His agency would cover the damages anyways.

Ruining your shit because he blasted his hot ass into the wrong apartment, however, was a whole other thing. Would he finance the repairs you needed to make? You hoped so but you didn't know, it wasn't during a fight, after all. No, he wasn't leaving until he promised his agency would take care of it. And until he recovered a little because he looked very unsteady on his feet.

“You're leaving?“ was your stupid, shocked question.

He scoffed. You narrowed your eyes at his broad back. Yes, you were enjoying the view and you would've enjoyed it a hell of a lot more if his torn shirt didn't show off his numerous gashes and cuts. Suddenly, you didn't feel like bitching to him about your apartment—you would make him pay for it, but later.

The crunching of glass caught your attention and you realized he really was leaving like that. “Hey, you're hurt,“ you said dumbly because you weren't really sure how to convince him to stay long enough for you to help.

“No shit,“ was his rude—but fair—response.

You huffed in annoyance. At least Biji's barking had stopped and he seemed calmer, albeit tense. Dynamight crashed into the wrong apartment, right? So he was aiming for an apartment in the complex, right? “You're apartment's in this building? Right?“

He said nothing but he didn't need to because you could see the gears in his head turning—could see the realization in his crimson eye. He knew what you were about to suggest but you said it anyway. “Just leave out the door—the actual door, not the one you DIYd,“ you said obviously, nodding to the broken glass.

He looked at said DIY door and grumbled something under his breath. Then he turned to face you. You rose a brow at his glare. It was his turn to nudge his head and he gestured it to your dog. “That flea-bag gonna let me through?“

“His name is Biji—“ “I don't give a fuck—“ “—and he might let you through, so long as you say please.“

The word please must've kickstarted an allergic reaction of some kind because Dynamight's face scrunched up like he swallowed piss. It was oddly adorable and you mentally nodded in satisfaction. If only he made such a face where cameras could catch and immortalize it.

“The hell is wrong with you? You think just cause I'm in your apartment you can order me around?!“

He was starting to raise his voice. Your hold tightened on Biji's collar as the dog began barking again. You took a deep breath in an effort to prevent your own anger from spilling out. “Yes,“ you damn near hissed, tugging Biji back because he was pulling.

Dynamight did not appreciate the answer but you didn't give him a second to bitch about it. “Might I remind you of how you barged in here out of nowhere. I'm not entirely calm and neither is he so, if you want him to be civil, say. Fucking. Please.“

“Be friendly,“ was really what you were telling him. He didn't look like he liked the idea, so you helped him out. “You ruined my door, broke my bed—which people don't get to do until after they take me out for dinner, by the way—“ —he scrunched his face again and you wanted to laugh— “and now I get to clean all that shit up. So, the least you could do is get your dirty ass over here to show Biji that you aren't as much of a threat as first impressions implied.“

A teenager getting his phone taken away—no, a kindergartner getting told to stand in the corner was what the giant hulking man ahead of you reminded you of. With more annoyance than you thought possible, Dynamight begrudgingly drug himself closer to you. He stopped a few feet away—stopping as soon as Biji became a little more frantic.

You gently caressed the dog's side, whispering and muttering calming words to him, promising him the giant man was a friend. Dynamight was allergic to that word too, but he sucked it up—as he should—and slowly removed one of his gloved before holding out the back of his hand to your dog.

Biji wanted to jump out of your hold but you held firm, slowly walking towards Dynamight who rose a brow. If it was in amusement, then you'd shove him out of the conveniently placed hole in your wall. Biji sniffed his hand eagerly. After a few moments, you felt his tail beat against your legs. A small smile spread on your face. “See?“ you cooed. “He's not so bad, is he?“

Biji was too busy sniffing the hero to respond—and he so would've responded otherwise. “Give the side of his neck a nice pat,“ you said softly. “It'll reaffirm you're friendly,“ was added when he glance at you in annoyance.

“Still think you can order me around,“ he scoffed, but much more softly then before.

“I do,“ you responded immediately, “so pet him.“

He hated it, you knew he did because why would a man like Dynamight like being bossed around by someone half his size? But the man gave Biji's long hair a gently pat anyway—not before wiping his hands on his pants, you noticed.

Both of you left the room after and you closed the door behind. “Unless you're scared of dogs, I'm gonna let him go.“

The man said nothing in objection—or anything at all—so you released the beast who ran up to Dynamight immediately. “He might jump so—“ and he was already up, paws on Dynamight's large chest and tail wagging eagerly.

“Biji, down,“ you ordered, gently tugging his collar when he went to jump again.

“Uh,“ you pointed down the hall, “door's that way.“

And off you both walked. No one said a word which gave you a moment to remember the hero's injuries. “I have first aid stuff, if you want it,“ you ended up mumbling because of course he would have his own medical supplies.

“Sure,“ he mumbled back, a rough but oddly civil sound that threw you off guard.

Maybe he was almost out? He probably had to patch himself up a lot. “I, uh, I'll go get it.“

And you did, entrusting Dynamight to Biji's care. You went to your bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit in record time before returning to the entryway, just in time to see the Great Explosion God Dynamight petting your adorable Biji boy. You really wished you and phone right now because no one would believe you.

“Got it,“ you said softly, grinning when he pulled away with a scowl.

“Here you go, apartment buddy. Need anything else? Bottle of water? Painkillers? Anything?“

He didn't say yes or no. He just clicked his tongue before turning around to open your door. You rolled your eyes, following behind to make sure Biji didn't follow him out but also to make sure he got to the elevator fine. You knew he would—he probably dealt with much worse—but, just in case.

“Nice meeting you, love your work but don't make remodeling my apartment a habit.“

He didn't laugh which was his loss cause you were funny as hell. Dynamight gave you one last glance—a very judgy-looking glance before walking off. “See you around,“ you offer lazily before doing a double take.

He was already at his apartment. He was digging out his keys to his apartment because his apartment was—you counted the numbers.

814.

816.

817.

817, and yours was—“Dang, guess we're apartment neighbors, huh,“ you mumbled.

Not quiet enough because he tossed a glare over his shoulder. You chuckled nervously. “See ya 'round,“ you said and you meant it this time.

You retreated into your apartment after. Apartment 818.

It's funny cause I was gonna make like a headconnon bullet point list thing about Bakugo x Independent s/o but it turned into this which is a drabble. A fun drabble that would make a pretty interesting story...

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jeridandridge · 6 months

Text

Voices

This is another installment In the college years series. Previous parts are on my masterlist.

It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s another night in another club in London, sweat covering your body and alcohol coursing through your veins while you can’t get Melissa Schemmenti out of your head. Rather, Melissa whatever her last name is by now. You never bothered to learn the guys last name. She was married to Joe by now, happily smiling for photos and cocktail hour.

Eyes closed you sway to the beat, the bass of the music thumping in your chest, arms up you whip your hair catching the eye of a man near the bar. A few minutes later you’re occupied in the back of a cramped car trying to forget about the woman you love.

Thousands of miles away locked in a bathroom Melissa holds a hand over her mouth muffling a sob. Jade eyes pinched shut, the gold band on her finger feels like a cinder block carrying her down to the bottom of the ocean. She shouldn’t have done it. She should have broken up with Joe once again and left campus with you. Now she knows she’s made a horrible mistake.

“Melissa! We’re ready to do the cake.” Maria Schemmenti calls as she knocks on the door. Melissa hiccups and opens it just enough to meet her nanas eyes.

“Oh, mia Cara,” she sympathizes coming into the small room to hug her granddaughter. Melissa hides her face as much as she can, her body shaking.

“I shouldn’t have done it, nana.” She sobs into comforting arms. “I don’t have her even as a friend now.”

Maria Schemmenti holds onto her distraught granddaughter patting her back.

“If it’s meant to be, Tesoro, things will work out for you both.”

——

A month goes by before you give in to the urge to pick up the phone. You needed to hear her voice, something. You know you hurt her, but her marrying Joe was like a knife to the chest. You figured you were even now.

Picking up the phone you punch her number in figuring it’s an alright time across the country to call her. Twirling the cord between your fingers you take a breath, heart racing in your ears. When a familiar voice picks up, you take in a sharp breath.

“Hey, Red.”

Standing in her new kitchen Melissa gapes hearing your voice.

“Didn’t think I’d hear that from you ever again.” She lets out in a shaky sigh.

Resting your head against the wall with a thud you can’t help but feel a pain in your chest. “I know, I’ve missed a lot. I wanted to call sooner but I thought you’d be on your honeymoon and busy doing, well, newlywed things. I dunno.” You cringe at your own excuse. You couldn’t tell her you were completely heartbroken that she married someone else.

“I heard you took off to England, when I called your house your mom was ecstatic.”

“I- yeah. I needed some time away before this new job. Clear my head a bit.”

Melissa’s eyes water and her fingers tighten on the phone while Joes voice can be heard in the back, watching a basketball game on TV.

“Did it help?” She asks clenching her first.

“A little,” you sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry Mel. I really am.”

“We don’t gotta talk about it, hon. I just needed to talk to you again, yeah?” She admits, trying to keep her composure.

Smiling into the phone you can’t help but feel relief, a feeling that would stay with you for many years.

“We can talk whenever you’d like, Red. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #wlw #lgbtq+ fiction #melissa schemmenti imagine #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #college years

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bratshaws · 2 months

Text

through the hourglass 356.brb x oc

a/n: still kinda sick uwu (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia @mrsbradshaw01

“Thanks for joining me today,guys.” Beatrice says as she pushes the cart forward, Nicole is inside while the twins were back at home with Rooster. They just fell asleep together and she knew how much he wanted to stay with them,”Roos is so nervous about the ceremony, I wanted to do something for him before Saturday.”

Shells hummed, picking up a pack of golden balloons, “Maybe some balloons?”

“Why?”

“Dunno,balloons are cool.”

“We can start small,” Evelyn then said, looking down at JJ who was strapped to her chest, his little legs bouncing, “What do you have planned,Bea?”

"I was thinking I could plan a surprise dinner for him," she suggested, a smile tugging at her lips. "Nothing too fancy, just a quiet evening at home with good food and good company."

Shells and Evelyn exchanged a glance, "That sounds perfect," Shells agreed, her grin widening. "Count us in. What do you need?"

She hums, looking around the supermarket as she huffs softly, “Well…he loves chocolate,so I’m going to try and find something to bake him a cake? And you guys can-” she pulls out two pieces of paper, “Check on these lists for me? It’s not a lot,really.”

Shells quickly snatches one of the papers, “Ooooh! Fish! Gonna get it! Meet you all at the cashier!”

With Shells dashing off to find the perfect fish for the dinner, Evelyn took a quick peek at the list in her hand. "Alright, I'll grab the vegetables and ingredients for the salad," she declared, her eyes scanning the items listed. "And maybe some wine to go with dinner."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, her smile widening at the thought of surprising Rooster with a special meal. "Sounds perfect, Ev. Thanks for helping out."

Evelyn grinned, adjusting JJ in the baby carrier as she made her way towards the produce section. "Anytime, Bea. It’ll be fine."

As Beatrice and Evelyn split up to gather the ingredients for the surprise dinner, Beatrice couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. She was determined to make the evening unforgettable for Rooster, to show him just how much he meant to her.

She inhales, then looks down at Nikki, “Alright Nikki, let’s get some stuff for daddy, yeah?”

Nicole, nestled comfortably in the shopping cart, gurgled in response, her eyes wide with curiosity as she reached out to grab at the items on the shelves. Beatrice chuckled"Alright, sweetheart, let's find the perfect ingredients for daddy's surprise cake."

With Nicole happily babbling away in the cart, Beatrice made her way through the aisles, carefully selecting each item on her list. As Beatrice navigated through the supermarket, her mind buzzed with ideas for the surprise dinner she was planning for Rooster. She carefully selected each ingredient, envisioning the delicious meal she would prepare for him.

"You're going to love Daddy's cake, Nikki," Beatrice said with a smile, leaning down to plant a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "We're going to make it extra special, just for him."

Nicole giggled in response “Cake!”

“Yes,honey, that’s right.” she smiles as she turns the chocolate bars in her hands to check the weight for a few seconds, “You know daddy loves chocolate, just like you, that’s something you two have in common.”

After grabbing the last few items on her list, Beatrice checked twice to make sure she didn’t lose anything "Almost done, sweetie," Beatrice murmured, reaching out to ruffle Nicole's hair affectionately. "Then we'll head home and get started on Daddy's surprise."

Nicole grinned up at her, her chubby cheeks dimpling. "Cake!" she exclaimed, her excitement palpable.

Beatrice laughed at her daughter's enthusiasm, her heart swelling with love. "That's right, cake," she agreed, her smile warm and tender. "But shh, it's a surprise for Daddy, remember?"

Nicole nodded solemnly, her little finger pressed to her lips in a gesture of secrecy. "Surprise," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh my God, he’s so hot too.”

Beatrice’s ears perk up at a sudden conversation, the two women were just a few steps behind her so…she couldn’t help but pay attention, “Like,okay,so,he’s probably oblivious but I’ve flirted with him so much and he doesn’t care!”

“What? Shut up! What’s his name again?”

“Bradley.”

Oh?

There’s no way, there are a lot of Bradl-

“He’s a Navy pilot. Mustache,tall, absolutely yummy. I think he’si n his forties so he’s a daddy.”

Beatrice blinks,staring ahead as she grabs more ingredients, keeping her ear on the convo and still trying to figure out what was being talked about…and if it was her Bradley.

‘He has kids too,I think three.”

“Is he married?”

“He is but like, his wife is so mid compared to him.” the woman laughs, “I only saw her like once, so. She’s a bit tubby,you know.”

…It was her Bradley.

Beatrice's heart sank as she listened to the conversation unfolding behind her. Disbelief washed over her, followed by a wave of hurt and anger. She felt like she had been punched in the gut, the air knocked out of her lungs. Her mind raced, trying to process the words she had just heard.

Her Bradley, her beloved Rooster, the man she had built a life with, was being discussed in such a disrespectful manner. The women's words stung like a thousand needles, each one piercing Beatrice's heart with painful precision.

She gripped the shopping cart tightly, her knuckles turning white with the force of her emotions. How could they talk about him like that? How could they reduce him to nothing more than a mere object of desire, a trophy to be won?

Anger flared within Beatrice, hot and fierce. She wanted to turn around, to confront the women and give them a piece of her mind. But she held herself back, knowing that it wouldn't solve anything. Instead, she focused on keeping her composure, on staying calm for Nicole's sake.

She tried at least.

“I mean and he’s like, so nice to look at. Maybe I just need to work out in front of him so he can figure out what’s really good.”

She had to keep her emotions in check. She couldn't risk causing a scene in the middle of the grocery store, especially with Nicole by her side.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Beatrice forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She pushed the cart forward, her steps measured and deliberate, as she tried to block out the conversation behind her.

But the women's words echoed in her mind, taunting her with their callousness. She walked past them and Beatrice tried to put on a brave face, plastering a smile on her lips as she looked down at Nicole.

Things she knew:

The fact they mentioned Rooster was oblivious was hilarious, when in reality he was just…happily married.

Secondly, he’d never cheat on her. She knows Rooster way too well.

Third, Rooster was probably the best man in the world. No, not probably, he was. And he didn’t have a wandering eye. She never worried about him because…well,she didn’t have to! He was loyal and romantic, he is still in love with her day by day.

But she couldn’t help but wonder about an…idea.

“Look what I got.” and something heavy lands on the cart away from a sitting Nicole, “I got you guys some saaalmooon,woooo~romantic.” Shells giggles, “And wine, look at the size of this flipping bottle!”

"Wow, that's…quite the bottle," Beatrice remarked with a chuckle, her smile genuine as she glanced at the oversized wine bottle. "I think we'll have enough to last us a while."

Shells grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey, when it comes to celebrating, it's always better to have too much than too little," she replied, her tone playful. "Plus, I —you okay?”

Beatrice's smile faltered for a moment as she registered Shells' concerned expression. She quickly masked her inner turmoil with a reassuring smile, nodding in response. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within her. "Just got lost in thought for a moment there."

Shells studied Beatrice for a moment, her gaze searching. "Are you sure?" she asked, her tone gentle. "You seemed a bit…distracted."

Beatrice forced a smile, her heart heavy with the weight of her thoughts. "I'm sure, Shells," she insisted, her voice soft. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day."

“...you just got here…”Shells didn't seem entirely convinced, but she nodded nonetheless, choosing to drop the subject for now. "Well, if you need to talk about anything, you know I'm here, right? Well,me and Ev." she offered, her tone filled with sincerity.

And Evelyn returns just in time, “What’s happening?” after she plops the groceries in the cart as well, “I got you the biggest potatoes I could find,Bea.”

Beatrice's smile widened at Evelyn's arrival, grateful for the distraction from her swirling thoughts. "Thanks, Ev," she said warmly, her tone light. "I appreciate it."

“Mhm…now, what’s bothering you? Shells said something about that just as I got here.”

"It's nothing, really," Beatrice replied, her voice attempting to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. "Just some thoughts running through my head, that's all."

Evelyn arched an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Come on, Bea. You can't fool us that easily," she teased, her tone gentle yet firm. "We've been friends for too long. We know when something's bothering you."

Shells nodded in agreement, her gaze filled with concern. "Yeah, Bea. You can talk to us about anything," she reassured, her voice soft. "We're here for you, no matter what." pause “Who do I need to kill?”

“Shells.”

“What???”

Beatrice sighed, realizing she wouldn't be able to brush off their concerns so easily. With a resigned smile, she glanced between her two friends, her heart heavy with the weight of her thoughts. "Okay, fine," she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just heard…some people talking about Rooster, they go to the gym he goes I assume and…they just, you know,start talking stuff about him, about how he’s oblivious to flirting��”

“Oblivious? He’s madly in love with you, not oblivious!”

“I know Ev,” she says, ‘It just bothered me is all. They seemed really…uh…I don’t know, focused on him.”

Evelyn's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Beatrice's explanation, her gaze filled with sympathy. "I can see why that would bother you," she said gently, her voice reassuring. "But you know Rooster better than anyone. He's not the type to flirt back or encourage that kind of behavior."

Shells nodded in agreement, her features tight with concern. "Yeah, Rooster is loyal to a fault," she chimed in, her voice firm. "He loves you, Bea. And nothing anyone says or does can change that."

"I know," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. "I trust Rooster with all my heart. It's just…sometimes, it’s like people refuse to acknowledge the wedding ring on his finger. …that’s why I decided to join him the next time he goes to the gym.’

“Oh?”

‘He’s been asking me to join him for a while now and…well…” she shrugs, then combs Nicole’s soft hair, “I know he’d love to have me there too, you know how he is.” she smiles, ‘...I think it’d be fun.”

Evelyn and Shells exchanged a knowing look, then they nodded in unison "I think that's a great idea, Bea," Evelyn said, her voice gentle. "It'll be good for you two.”

Shells chimed in, her tone supportive. "Yeah, and you can show those gym rats that Rooster is happily married and off-limits," she added with a grin.

Beatrice chuckled at Shells' suggestion, her heart feeling a little lighter. "Thanks, guys," she said sincerely, her gaze drifting to her sleeping daughter. "I just want to make sure Rooster knows I've got his back, no matter what."

Evelyn reached out, squeezing Beatrice's hand reassuringly. "He knows, Bea. Trust me," she said with a reassuring smile. "And if anyone dares to mess with him, they'll have to deal with your very wrath."

Shells grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh, they won't know what hit them," she declared, “You did break your ex’s nose.”

Beatrice couldn't help but laugh at her friends' support, feeling grateful for their presence in her life. "Thanks, guys," she said,”...I’ll keep you updated. Now help me take this away so I can pay for it.”

#im happy yall are still here #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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