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cozage · 1 year

Note

Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Law, and Ace with fem S/O with healing water powers. The catch is that whenever she uses those powers, she feels pain from the wounds she’s healing. And this isn’t a Devil Fruit ability. It’s sorta like water bending from Avatar.

A/N: I really debated on how to lay this one out, but I chose to have them find out about her power. If anyone wants a head canon follow up on how they act now that they know, send me an ask :) I maybe made this a bit too long, but those soft moments with each of these boys are my WEAKNESS. (Law may seem a little OOC but I truly believe that man gets tunnel vision when he sees you in pain)

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: blood, pain, injuries, angst, all those fun things. Sanji’s contains slight spoilers for WCI

Total word count: 6.3k

The Pain of Healing

Zoro

Word count: 1.2k

“It’s only five more minutes until my Haki returns.” Luffy says between pants, trying to catch his breath.

“Then I have five minutes to help you. Sit down.”

Luffy collapsed onto the ground at your command, and you examined his body as he slept. It didn’t look good. His body was riddled with scrapes, scratches, bruises, and he was bleeding out from his side. Several minor injuries could be more painful than large ones, but Luffy had a mix of both. The best thing to do would be to focus on the large ones first, and if you have energy left, fix the small stuff as well.

You guided water out of your flask and started with the hole in his side. You were used to the pain that came with healing by now, but it still made you flinch every time you started. You had to grind your teeth together to keep from crying out, not wanting to wake Luffy. He needed rest, and you didn’t want him to see the repercussions of your decision to help heal him anyway.

After five minutes, you’ve taken all of the major injuries away from his body, and you managed to take a few small ones away from him as well. You wipe the tears from your eyes before you shake him awake.

“It’s time, Luffy. Wake up.” You put on the biggest fake smile you can muster before his eyes flick open.

“Aw man, that was the best nap in my entire life! I feel amazing!” You stay seated as he stands up, your body too riddled with pain to move.

“Go get them, Captain!” It hurts to even speak, but Luffy’s already up stretching, too hyped up to notice your exhaustion.

“Thanks for whatever you did to make me feel so great! Leave the rest to me!” Luffy calls back, bounding off to finish the fight.

Once he’s out of sight, you fold your head into your hands and weep. The pain was immeasurable, and every time you helped Luffy recover, you don’t understand how he’s still alive. You sit there for a long time, crying until there are no tears left. And then you hear cheers from the village nearby, signifying Luffy has won and your work paid off. Knowing that you helped him win makes you feel a little better, and you need to see everyone again.

You stand up, ready to go meet the rest of the crew, but your body seems to disagree with your movement. Your legs shake, and when you go to take a step, you can feel your body collapsing, falling to the ground. You brace for the impact of your worn body against the solid ground, too tired to do anything else.

It doesn’t come, though. Someone catches you as you stumble forward. Strong arms wrap around your back and your legs, scooping you up and pressing you into his bare chest. Zoro.

“Easy.” His expression is stone as he stares at you, but you can see worry underneath. “You gonna tell me what the hell you just did to Luffy?”

You avert your eyes from his gaze, running the tip of your finger along the scar on his chest. “I healed him.”

You can feel his body tense with your words. “That didn’t look like healing to me. And since when do you have a Devil fruit power anyway?”

You bite your lip nervously. Nobody had caught you healing someone before. It wasn’t something you flaunted, or even something you told people about. “It’s not a devil fruit power.”

“Woman, if you don’t tell me-” he breaks off mid sentence, and you look around for any sign of danger. But there’s nobody around besides the two of you. You risk a glance up at him, and you see his face is pained as he stares down at you with a form of understanding. “You took his pain from him, didn’t you?”

Your mouth falls open from shock. You’re not sure how Zoro was able to guess something so accurate after seeing your power one time. You nod, confirming his suspicions. “He’s got an incredibly high threshold for pain tolerance.”

“How are you still alive?” Zoro shakes you a little when he asks the question, which causes you to groan in pain. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be more gentle. Do you want to sit? Stand?”

The thought of being upright makes you dizzy. “Can you just keep holding me for now?”

He nods, and returns to questioning you about your mysterious power instead. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yeah.” It hurt to talk honestly, but you didn’t want to tell Zoro that.

“How often have you been doing this?”

“Only like three or four times for Luffy, I think.” You're certain it’s been more than that, but you can’t tell Zoro that right now.

“Three or four times?? For Luffy?” You can feel him trying to figure out the meaning behind your cryptic words.

“There’s been a few other people I’ve done it for too.”

“Have you done it for me?” He's scowling at you, like he already knows the answer you’re going to give and he's waiting to scold you for it.

“Maybe once or twice,” you lie, and you feel your cheeks burning. He squints at you, and you know you’ve been caught in the lie. But he says nothing, he just readjusts you in his arms to hold you closer.

He had been walking for a few minutes, and you had almost fallen asleep. He had managed to keep you mostly still while he walked through the destroyed city, and you were too tired to care if he was lost or not. “It’s a neat power,” he finally comments. “You gonna tell me more about it? Or do I need to keep asking questions?”

“Can I tell you later?” You mumble into his chest. Between the safety of Zoro’s arms, the warmth of the sun on your face, and the exhaustion that’s set in from all that pain, it's hard for you to stay conscious.

Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and you struggle to stay awake while you wait for an answer. He was never one for mindless chit chat, but you could tell that something was on his mind, so you decide to indulge him.

“It’s not a devil fruit. I was born with it,” You start, and you feel a heavy weight lift off your shoulders with those few words. You’re so relieved that you can finally tell someone about your secret now. “I was never supposed to let anyone see it being used. If the World Government knew…” You trail off, thinking of how the Navy would turn you into a weapon. You shutter at the thought, and continue on in your explanation.

“The power isn’t perfect, though. I feel the pain of whoever or whatever I heal. It’s not permanent, but if it’s too much for my body to handle at the moment, I might die. I’m really not sure, I’ve never tried to heal a fatal wound before.”

Zoro is looking off into the distance with a faraway look in his eye. “Just like Kuma.”

“Who?”

“Back on Thriller Bark we met a Marine named Kuma,” Zoro begins to explain, and you focus all your energy into listening to him. “He took all of Luffy’s pain and told me if we wanted to save Luffy, I had to take his pain upon myself. It was just after his big battle with the warlord Moria, and the pain…” he trailed off, and you knew he was reliving the moment in his mind.

“Does he know about your sacrifice?”

Your question brings him back to reality, and he looks down at you. He chuckles at your question, and bends over to kiss your forehead. “Does he know about yours?”

Sanji

Some light spoilers for WCI arc

Word Count: 1.2k

You didn’t realize that your ability was keeping Sanji up at night.

Anytime he had a cut, or a burn, or any other kind of injury, you waited for him to doze off before you pulled out some water and healed his hands. The injuries were never serious, and after a few times, you barely noticed the pain.

You didn’t mind, and you knew how much your boyfriend valued his hands. It was your silent act of love to him, something you wanted to give him but could never tell him about. One morning after you healed a bad burn, you found him sitting up in bed, staring at his hands.

“Is something wrong, Sanji dear?”

The cook was examining his hands thoroughly, flipping them over again and again. “I could’ve sworn I had a burn here yesterday.”

Your cheeks tinted at the thought of being found out. “Oh, well maybe you just have superhuman healing powers!” You laugh it off, trying your best to act natural.

“Yeah, maybe…” You could tell something was bothering him, but he didn't say anything further.

You caught him staring at his hands throughout the day, as if he was waiting for a bomb to explode. At dinner you noticed a particularly bad cut on the topside of his hand - a cut he must’ve gotten while chopping vegetables - and you made a note to heal it that night.

He stayed awake later than usual that night, and he seemed more wound up with anxiety than normal. You peppered his face with a few kisses, trying to get him to relax some.

“Sanji, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He sighed, pulling you into his chest and laying down to finally get some sleep. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He fell asleep quickly with you pressed into him. His slow, even breaths signified he was finally unconscious, and you pulled out some water to cover his wound. It stung you a bit as his flesh stitched back together, and you let out a low hiss in pain, and you froze as Sanji stirred slightly in his sleep. This wound was deeper than his normal cuts and burns; he must’ve been really distracted when he hurt himself. He wasn’t usually so careless around knives, but you knew whatever was bothering him would be revealed when he was ready to talk to you about it.

With his wound healed and Sanji’s breath returning to normal, you curled back into place against him, and fell deep into sleep.

You woke to a string of curses falling out of Sanji’s mouth, his body tight and tense against yours.

“Hm? Sanji?” You rub the sleep from your eyes and open them to find him staring at his hands again. “Sanji, what’s wrong?”

“That’s impossible,” he mumbled, speaking mostly to himself. He looks panicked, staring down at the place where his cut was yesterday. “That’s not humanly possible.”

You feign innocence as you have in the past, but you can’t ignore the nervous look in his eyes. “What is it, Ji?”

“I had a cut here yesterday. It was deep.” His breathing quickened, and you could see that he was scared for some reason. “It couldn’t have healed overnight. It’s not…It can’t be…”

“I’m sure it’s just-”

“You don’t understand.” He cuts you off mid-sentence, something he’s never done before, and it takes you aback. He gets out of bed abruptly, his eyes never leaving his hand.

“Sanji?”

“I need to go. I need to get out of here.” He’s pacing the room now, his stress overflowing into the space between you.

“Go where? Sanji, calm down. Talk to me-”

“I can’t be here! I can’t endanger you! Or anyone else, for that matter!” His face is contorted with such pain you’ve never seen before. You don’t know what’s going on with your boyfriend, but his reaction to such a small cut is starting to scare you.

You jump out of bed and stride over to him. When you reach him, you clasp his face between your hands, forcing his eyes away from his hands and up to your eyes. His eyes are wide with pure fear, and his breathing is rapid and shallow. You can feel his body shaking as you hold him.

“Sanji.” You push down your own fear and speak to him in a soothing tone, trying to bring him back to you. “Talk to me.”

“I’m a monster, Y/N.” Tears fill his eyes, threatening to spill out as he speaks. “If my body is regenerating like this…I’m a threat to you all.”

“You’re not,” You whisper. “You’re not a monster, Sanji.” You stand on your tiptoes to try and kiss the space between his eyes, but he pulls away from you.

“You don’t know.” He backs away from you, fear returning to his eyes again. “I am a monster. And now that I’m-”

It’s your turn to cut him off now. “I healed you, Sanji.”

His brows furled in confusion, but his eyes looked less panicked now. “Wha..?”

“I have this power,” you explain. You walk back to the bedside table, gathering some water from a cup and suspending it in the air. “I can heal people with water. I’ve been healing your small injuries for a while now. I wanted to make your life easier, I swear. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just…I wanted to help.”

You see him relax the more you explain your powers, which was not the reaction you were expecting. He watches you move the water through the air, and tears finally flow from his eyes.

“Y/N-chan,” he sobs, running over to you, embracing you in a hug. He’s holding you tight, smothering you into his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you hide it?”

Your face burns against him, embarrassed that you had kept it from him for so long. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t want me hurting myself for you, but-”

“Hang on.” He pulls back from you, peering down at your face with a frown of concern. “You’re being hurt?”

“Just when I heal people,” you rush to explain, seeing his frown deepen. “I just feel the pain of the injuries I’m healing, it’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he corrects, staring at you disapprovingly. “Promise me you won’t do it anymore.”

“Sanji-”

“Promise, Y/N.”

“No! Let me do this for you!” You’re pouting now, but you know Sanji won’t cave on this matter. You know he can’t let you hurt yourself at his expense.

“I appreciate that you want to help,” he says sternly. You can hear the love in his voice as he speaks, and you know you’ll have to agree to his request. “But there are other ways for you to help me without hurting yourself. Please-”

“Fine. Promise.” You give him a fake pout, but when he pulls you back into his chest and holds you tightly, you melt into him. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ji? You seemed scared earlier.”

“I’m fine, really.” He rests his chin on the top of your head, drawing in a long breath before he says more. “I just thought my past was coming back to haunt me again, that’s all.”

You all stand there for a long while, just enjoying eachothers closeness. You only break apart when you hear Luffy screaming for breakfast, and you give him one last kiss on each of his hands before you let him go.

Luffy

Word Count: 1.1k

“Stay still, idiot.” You held Luffy down, looking at his wound in his foot.

“I can’t! It hurrrtttssss!”

“That’s what you get for wearing sandals in the jungle!” You could tell from the way the stick speared through his foot, Luffy wouldn’t be able to walk easily, and you still had another half mile before you made it back to the ship.

You knew you weren’t supposed to heal people while they were conscious, but this was Luffy. He was the love of your life, and the Strawhats were your only family. If you couldn’t trust them, you deserved to be locked up anyway.

You sighed, pulling water out of your flask in soft, flowing movements. Luffy was still writhing in pain on the ground, overdramatic in his reaction to his current impalement. It was possible that you might be able to heal him without him even realizing it.

You surrounded his foot with an orb of water, and imagined the wound being stitched together, just like your mother had taught you. You saw his rubbery skin begin to mend together, and braced yourself for what came next.

Your grip on Luffy’s ankle tightened when the pain came. It was sharp and fast, and it took the breath out of your lungs. You squeezed your eyes shut, but kept your focus on the wound and the pain that came with it.

“Wooooahhhh!” You could hear Luffy’s sigh of amazement, and you knew he had caught you healing his wound. “That’s so cool! The hole is just closing up!!”

You didn’t speak, afraid that your voice would betray you. The last thing you wanted Luffy to know was that you were in pain because of the healing process. You could hear him freaking out about how cool it was that his injury was healing before his own eyes, but you did your best to ignore him and focus on the healing process. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, using the level of pain to guide how much longer you had to fix his injury. Finally, the pain dulled, and then disappeared. You dropped his foot and opened your eyes again, trying to ignore the lingering effects that your body was dealing with.

Luffy was examining his foot closely, looking at it from all angles to see if there was any damage. He stood up, putting all of his weight back on his foot, and jumped up and down a few times.

“It’s like brand new!” He shouted with glee. He came over to you and wrapped you in a hug. “You’re the best, Y/N!”

Over the next few weeks, Luffy offered up your services to others throughout the ship. You knew that Luffy was incapable of keeping secrets, and you had never explicitly asked him to keep that information to himself. You never minded healing your family though, and the injuries were always minor. Luffy sent Ussop to you when he got a burn on his hand, and Franky when he got a bad cut on his face. Chopper sent Zoro when he had a sprained wrist. It wasn’t until Nami came to you with a nasty cut on her shoulder that the secret of your healing was revealed.

You smiled when she asked, and pulled water out to start the healing process. You coated the wound in a bubble of water, and clenched your jaw to prepare for the worst.

You were aware of Nami’s eyes watching you. Everyone else watched their own wound magically heal, but her eyes remained on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort on your end. You had a feeling that she was suspicious of your powers already. She had been the most interested member of the crew from the start, asking about the stipulations and origins of your power from the moment she had found out about it.

You kept your eyes on the gash, trying your best to mentally steel yourself for the pain that would come. You knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide the pain, but you were determined to make it look natural. When the feeling of pain ripped through your shoulder to match her wound, you gritted your teeth and kept your smile, but you could feel your muscles involuntarily twitch.

If Nami noticed, she said nothing. When you finished, you looked back up at her and let out a shaky breath, smiling. She eyed you suspiciously, but thanked you politely and left you alone. Once the door swung shut, you collapsed back onto the couch you were on, desperately needing a nap after that performance.

Luffy was awoken by a smack on the head.

“What?” He asked groggily. “Are we at the next island?”

“Are you some kind of sadist,” the tangerine-haired girl scolded, shaking her finger at him. “Or are you just a moron?”

“What are you talking about, Nami?”

Nami rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring daggers down at Luffy. “Y/N’s power.”

Luffy rubbed his head, wondering if you could fix headaches. “What about it?”

“She feels pain when she heals people, you idiot. She probably feels whatever pain she’s healing.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that she just healed my shoulder. And she was in some serious pain while she was doing it. She hides it well, but I could tell she was hurting.”

Luffy bit his lip, trying to think back to when you had healed him in the forest. But he had been so amazed at watching his own wound heal, he hadn’t noticed your reaction while you were doing it.

“She seemed kind of tired after mine, but that’s it. I felt great though, so I carried her back to the ship!”

“So you are just a moron!” Nami punched him again. “No more free healing! Stop taking advantage of her!”

You woke up from your nap to rubber arms wrapped around you and Luffy’s round eyes staring at you intensely.

“Good morning,” you groan, trying to pull away from him to stretch.

He let you go enough to stretch out, but kept a tight grip on you. “Does it hurt?”

You freeze mid-stretch, silently cursing Nami for her hyper awareness. “It just makes me tired.”

“You’re lying.” He knows you so well. You move your fingers up to his hair, twirling his locks around your index finger.

“Yeah,” you sigh the word out. You’re painfully aware of his gaze, transfixed on your face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because Luffy, it’s not that bad.” Your eyes move back to his finally, and you can see the hurt and confusion that is held within them. “And I like doing what I can to help my family.”

He nods, accepting that answer, and snuggles up into your chest, holding you tightly against him. You let him lay there for a while, twirling his soft strands of hair around in your fingers. There are few quiet moments between you and Luffy, and you cherish every moment you can get like this.

“Nami said no more free healings, by the way.”

You laugh and give his forehead a quick kiss. “Guess I’ll have to charge you double.”

Law

Word Count: 1.2k

“Fuck.”

Law’s breath was ragged as you pressed into his stomach wound. Blood coated your hands as you tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be working very well.

“I just need to...” Law coughed, and you could see red staining his lips. A small blue orb began to form in his palm, but it flickered out quickly. He was too weak to use his devil fruit powers.

“Fuck.” You repeated. There was only one thing you could do now. It meant exposing your secret and showing your captain your biggest weakness, but you’d do anything to save him.

You pulled away from his wound, and let your hands guide water from your flask, maneuvering it through the air. “Don’t freak out,” you say, and you cover the wound in water. You let it sit for a moment, and then begin imagining the wound healing.

It started as a dull, throbbing pain in your stomach. You began to think you were getting used to the pain, but then it began to grow, turning sharp and stabbing. You flinched at the sudden change in pain, but held your focus.

Law watched you work for a few moments with wide eyes, unsure what was happening or what he could do. You wanted to scream from the pain that was growing rapidly, but you held your tongue, hoping he didn’t notice your facial expressions contorting into pain. Tears filled your eyes, and you finally felt Law move into action, his hand gripping around your wrists.

“Stop,” he demanded, trying to push your arms away from his wound. You ignore his demand, keeping your arms locked against him, continuing the healing process at your expense.

“Stop! Y/N-ya, Stop it!” His voice rose in pitch, and you could tell he sensed your pain. His efforts to push you away are getting stronger, proof that his energy is returning to him. You feel relieved in the fact that he is healing, even if it is exhausting you in the process.

He finally succeeds in pushing you off him, and you fall backwards to the ground and lay there, dazed and stunned from your work. He quickly straddles you and pins your arms to the ground to ensure you’ve fully stopped whatever you had started doing to him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Law stares down at you, angry and scared of what you’ve done.

You know his rage is out of fear, and you give him a small smile, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You okay now?”

He stares at you, baffled at your question. He has energy now, and his wound in his stomach is almost completely healed. He knows it’s due to you, but he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to heal him so quickly. Fear. Betrayal. Anger. So many emotions run through him all at once. He has so many questions that he doesn’t know where to start.

He tightens his grip around your wrists, keeping you pinned down. “Explain.”

“It’s a power I was born with,” you say, closing your heavy eyes. “I can heal other people’s injuries through water.”

Law watches you carefully, certain that you’re hiding something. He squeezes your wrists tighter until you finally open your eyes again, looking anywhere but at him.

You can’t make eye contact with him or you know you’ll tell him everything. You can’t afford for him to know your secret, it was bad enough that he knew this much.

“You were in pain.” He says it as a statement, not a question.

You squirm from underneath him, trying to get free, but his grip doesn’t let up. He’s determined to get to the bottom of what you just did. He needs to protect you. He needs to keep you safe from all harm, even if that means protecting you from yourself.

“Let go.” You say, still trying to get free. His grip is starting to become painful, and you try to pull your arms away from him again. “You’re hurting me, Law. Let go.”

His eyes stare down at you, unmoving from his current position. The more you squirm, the tighter his grip gets, and you know he won’t let go until he has an answer. “Y/n-ya, why were you in pain?”

“It’s a side effect!” You cry out in frustration, finally giving in. You suspect he knew the moment he saw it. “I feel the person’s pain as I heal them.”

In his shock, Law’s hands loosen their grip, and you finally pull free from him. You try to turn away from him, but he’s still sitting on your stomach, and you don’t have enough energy to push him off. You rub at your wrists, trying to get the sting from his grip out of your body.

Law is frozen, staring down at you with wide eyes. He grits his teeth, watching you massage your wrists. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for your hands again, more gentle this time. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

You let him grab one of your hands, and he begins massaging your wrists gently, whispering apologies to you. You close your eyes and try to forget that you’ve broken your number one rule about your power: telling other people. You focus on his wrist massage for a while, his own way to apologize for his outburst.

“Y/n-ya?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you save me?”

You sigh, opening your eyes again. This time, you meet his gold eyes, radiant against the sunlight. “You never want anyone to save you, Captain.”

“It’s my job as a ca-”

“I saved you because I love you, you idiot.”

You can see Law’s eyes twitch in surprise; his hands freeze against your wrist.

“You don’t get to decide what sacrifices I make for you,” you continue. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do to save you. That’s my decision. You’ve made many sacrifices for me, some extremely painful ones. Remember the incident at Low Sand Creek?”

Law doesn’t respond, but he slowly starts to massage your wrists again, which you take as a sign to keep talking.

“I don’t get to criticize your decisions on sacrifice. And you don’t get to criticize mine either. I love you, and I know you love me. Do I want you to risk your life for me? No. But that’s just something I have to live with. And so do you. Okay?”

Your captain says nothing, and you can tell he’s sulking over your lecture. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have to do this with him. Law was one of the smartest people you knew, but relationships weren’t really his strong suit. It resulted in you having to do a lot of explaining and voicing your needs.

“Law, do you understand?” You insist, needing to stand your ground. He had a tendency of not responding when he didn’t agree with something.

He huffs out an irritated breath. “Okay.”

You scrunch your face at him, shooting him a semi-fake glare.

“I understand, okay?!”

You twisted your hand to intertwine with his, and grabbed his other hand with your free one so that both of his hands were now holding each of yours. You locked eyes with him, and you could see there was something else there, something that was bothering him.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He was quiet for a moment, as if he were working up the courage to admit whatever he was feeling. His eyes moved away from your gaze and focused on one of his hands instead, still intertwined with yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice comes out slightly choked, and you realize that you had forgotten to explain the most important part to him.

Your cheeks redden, embarrassed at your oversight. His eyes snapped back to yours, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact.

“It’s… I was told to never tell anyone about it. Or let someone else see it.”

You can feel him staring at you, his eyes willing you to look at him, but you refuse. He waits patiently, and you know he’s asking you a silent question: Don’t you trust me?

“I trust you, I just…” Neither you or Law had really talked about your past much. You preferred to live for the now, for the future. The past was just too painful to think about. “People died protecting that secret. I didn’t want to add more names to that list.”

Law gave a dark chuckle at your response. “And after all that preaching about not deciding who gets to make sacrifices.”

Now it’s your turn to sulk. “That is not-“

He cuts you off, pulling you up to meet him, and his lips collide with yours.

He pulls back briefly, basking in your beauty. “No more secrets. Promise?”

“Promise.”

Ace

Word Count: 1.5k

Ace wasn’t used to being hit, and when someone made contact with him, it hurt. He grimaced as he limped from battle, blood dripping down his leg from the giant puncture wound in his thigh. You had your arm around him, helping him run, but his injury was slowing you both down, and the enemy was closing in quickly.

“Sit,” you commanded. “Let me help.”

“I just need to get back to Marco, he can help.” His breathing was labored, and you knew he was expending too much energy just speaking to you.

“I can heal too.” You helped him sit down, and you could feel his eyes staring at you, trying to understand your cryptic words. You chose to ignore him for now, and examined the wound. It was deep, but manageable. You braced yourself, and summoned some water out of your flask, covered his wound, and focused on stitching it back together.

Pain ripped through you, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself focused. It wasn’t the worst pain you had felt, but the wound was deeper than you had initially thought, and you could feel your muscles tearing apart, just like Ace’s had when he was cut. You knew that it was just a phantom pain, no actual bodily harm was being done to you, but it was still pain nonetheless.

You could feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, but you refused to stop until the job was done. You watched his muscle stitch back together, and when it was finally completely healed, you sat back and closed your eyes, exhausted and riddled with aches.

When you opened your eyes again, you could see Ace in front of you, you could feel him shaking you violently. He was screaming something, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying over the loud ringing in your ears. Slowly, your hearing returned, and you realized he was screaming your name.

“Ace.” Your words were slow. You were still trying to come out of the fog of pain that always came with healing. “Stop shaking me.”

He finally stopped, but his hands were still tightly gripping your shoulders. He was staring at you in terror, fear spread across his face.

“What were you doing?” His voice was loud and piercing, causing you to flinch. “How did you…What do…Where did…” He struggled to find the right words, and you stared at him with still-glazed eyes while he tried to form a sentence. You were struggling to refocus after the pain, and were thankful that Ace was tongue-tied for the moment.

Ace took a breath, finally able to form a sentence. “I didn’t know you had a devil fruit power.”

“I don’t.” Normally you let people believe whatever they wanted in order to guard your secret, but this was Ace. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. “It’s just an ability I was born with. I can heal people with water.”

Ace’s facial expressions had always been easy to read. Even in your dazed state, you watched as his concern turned to shock and then to confusion. You waited for the inevitable question to come, and it did. “If you’ve had this power, why haven’t you used it more often?”

“I…” you hesitate. You didn’t want to tell him the weakness of your ability. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you did. You knew that if Ace discovered the trade off of your powers, he would never want you to suffer for him or anyone else.

You had told Marco about your power when you joined the crew, and the doctor had forbid you using your ability except in dire circumstances. Marco trusted you to make judgment calls on what you could handle, but you didn’t think Ace would feel the same way.

You could hear the enemy's battle cries getting closer, and you take the opportunity to avoid the question. “Let’s go. We need to get back to the ship.”

Ace stands, and you follow to do the same. You take a bit longer to get to your feet, still light-headed from the trade off of healing Ace. His attention has shifted to the enemy pursuing you now, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice your sluggish movements.

Ace’s fist becomes engulfed with flames, and he stands between the enemy and you. “Go back to the ship, I’ll hold them off.”

“Idiot! That’s what got us here in the first place!”

“Yeah,” He smirked back at you like the devilish fiend you knew he was. “But this time I won’t lose.”

You can feel your knees start to go weak, but you’re not sure if it’s from exhaustion or from the man in front of you. You hate to leave him, but you know you’ll only be a liability in this fight. With Ace’s energy replenished and the ability to fight in an open space, he’d finish off the enemy easily now.

“You better not die.” Your words hang in the air, and you take off towards the Moby Dick.

As soon as you got aboard the ship, you went straight to your room. You didn’t bother giving a report. Ace would do that when he returned. Sleep was what you needed now.

—

You woke with arms wrapped around you tightly, and the warm body of Portgas D. Ace pressed against your back. You weren’t sure how long you had slept, but there was no longer any light coming in through the porthole in your room. You shifted, trying to get out of Ace’s grasp without waking up, but his strong arms tightened against you when you moved, keeping you close to him.

For a long while you laid in the silence, unsure if Ace was asleep or awake. He wasn’t snoring like he normally did when he was asleep and he refused to let you move away from his grasp, but his breaths were even and he didn’t speak to you. You didn’t mind the quiet, your body was still exhausted from the fighting and the pain of healing today, and Ace’s warmth was almost therapeutic against your tired body.

“Your healing…” Ace's voice finally breaks the silence, making you tense from surprise. His voice was low and quiet in your ear. “It hurts you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

You can hear the sadness in his voice, and you know that he’s figured it out. Whether he solved it on his own or if Marco told him, it didn’t matter now. You’ve always been a bad liar, and you could never bring yourself to lie to Ace anyway.

He squeezed you tighter, pulling you closer to him. There was another long pause, and you let him hold you while he processed everything.

“How bad is it?” His voice is level, but you can hear it beginning to grow thick with tears.

“It depends on what I heal. I just feel the pain of the injury.”

His forehead presses into the crook of your neck, and his breath becomes shallow and ragged. You can feel his emotions coursing through him, and all you want to do is comfort him. You squirm, trying to flip over so you see his face while you talk, but his iron tight grip refuses to let you move.

“Ace,” you speak gently, your hands pulling at his arms, and his grip loosens just enough for you to turn over onto your other side. You’re laying face to face with him now, but his eyes are squeezed shut. His freckled cheeks are wet with tears, and your heart constricts seeing his sadness.

You press your forehead against his, and use your free hand to brush some of his hair away from his face. You continue softly sweeping your fingers through his hair, soothing him as you speak. “It’s not so bad, Ace. But that's why I don’t use it very often.”

His eyes are still closed, but you feel his hands ball into fists against your back, gathering the fabric of your shirt in them.

“Why did you use it to save me then?” His voice comes out more of a demand than a question. It’s harsh, and you know he’s angry. Maybe at you, maybe at himself, probably both. His question makes you freeze, your fingers still entangled in his strands of hair.

You feel a slight prick of irritation at his question. You pull your head back and tilt his face up to look you in the eyes, but they’re still tightly shut. “Look at me,” you demand, your tone matching his from a moment ago. You feel him stiffen slightly at the intensity of your words, but his dark eyes open to meet your own.

Your hands find his cheeks, cupping his face, and you press your forehead back into his. Your eyes never leave his, and you can feel his grip against your back finally start to soften as he focuses on you instead of what you’ve done.

“I did it.” You pause for a moment, still staring at him. God, he was so stupid. You swipe your thumb across his freckles, wiping the tears from his sad, sweet eyes. “Because you deserve to be saved.”

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Wish, Hope, Dream

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You thought a night would be long enough to clear your head, but a bit of doubt lingers in your mind. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Slight angst, insecurities, longing, Natasha and Sharon being both good friends and devil's advocates, ongoing AU, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We Don't Talk Anymore A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry again in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought having answers would give you peace and allow you to rest before facing Bucky in the morning. Oh, how wrong you were. The tussle between your mind and heart didn’t stop, giving you one of the worst nights of sleep that you could remember in a long time. At least your pillow had dried from your tears.

And what was it that you were crying for? Relief that Bucky had feelings for you or were you mourning the lost time you could’ve had together had you two talked sooner? Perhaps both.

“Just get up,” you mumbled, willing yourself to get out of bed and lay out a random sundress to wear.

You wondered if anyone else was awake as you showered and brushed your teeth. Guilt crept in for skipping out on game night. Whatever transpired between you and Bucky, you couldn't let any of those feelings bleed into the rest of the time with your friends. You had to suck it up no matter the outcome.

Glancing down the hall as you left your room, your gaze lingered on Bucky’s door before your footsteps moved in that direction. You raised your hand to knock, wanting to check on him and make sure he got enough sleep. Part of you was tempted to sneak in and crawl into bed with him. Not even completely for sex, which you did not need to think about, but to have him hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay.

And to stop torturing yourself.

But you let your hand fall. You didn't want to assume that he wanted to see you first thing upon waking up. Assumptions and not communicating were what led you on this path to begin with. But you didn't want to smother him.

We can still figure it out together.

You crept downstairs, spotting a few empty bottles from the night before. The main floor was dark, minus the sunlight coming in through the windows and the kitchen. You stayed quiet when you saw Natasha and Sharon huddled together in a hushed conversation by the counter.

Which stopped the moment you walked into the room.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about you. Not with the concerned look in Sharon’s eyes. Natasha, on the other hand, stared back at you in contemplation. At least it wasn't pity. You couldn't take that.

Did Bucky tell them? Or did they figure it out?

“Hey. Sorry for skipping game night,” you said, shifting on your feet as your gaze flickered between them. “Guess Steve and Sam aren't up yet?” You asked, purposely not mentioning Bucky.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Sharon said, concern continuing to show in her eyes. “I think they’re getting a run in.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. Looking between them again, you hoped things wouldn't be this awkward for the rest of the week. “Am I interrupting? I can just grab breakfast when you two are done.”

“Not interrupting. Go sit in the living room,” Natasha urged, nodding toward the direction of the couch. “Look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Smoothie?” You guessed, glancing around at the array of fruit ready for blending.

“Oh, yeah. Better than coffee,” the redhead teased as she threw a few pieces into the blender with some ice, bringing a small smile to your face as you went back to the living room. She was a good friend.

All of them were.

“You okay?” Sharon asked, sitting beside you on the couch.

You hesitated for a moment. You adored them and always would. But when it came to Bucky, you feared everyone would always side with him over you. Your chest tightened at the thought that if things went south you’d get left behind.

And hadn't you been left behind once before?

“Yes and no,” you answered, not wanting to expand completely yet as Natasha walked in and handed you a glass, your hands gripping it tight. They didn't need to deal with your issues, did they? “Did Bucky talk to everyone? I’m guessing he said something since you two are looking at me like I'm going to break.”

“We don’t think you’re going to break, but you look on edge,” Natasha answered, taking a seat when you didn't disagree. “The guys talked to him a little bit. He wouldn't give them all the details, but we know you two had a long overdue chat.”

“And the way you bolted upstairs last night and how he looked like a kicked puppy, we guessed it didn't go well,” Sharon added, raising an eyebrow. “I think Nat wanted to kick his ass.”

“He looked like he kicked his own ass. Would've just been rubbing salt in an open wound if I did anything else,” she said with no trace of humor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It may help,” Sharon said.

Maybe.

With a deep breath, you told the girls what had happened. How you and Bucky admitted that you had feelings for each other, which neither of them appeared surprised by in the least, but that you walked away from him once the talk was over. How you wished you would’ve given him a chance then and there, but didn’t. It helped and hurt to tell them about it.

You hung your head by the time you finished, your throat tight. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, swallowing a little. “This is supposed to be a fun trip and I’m messing it up with my issues.”

Sharon rubbed your back as you took a sip of your smoothie. “Hey. You’re our friend. You didn't do anything wrong or mess anything up, okay? We all love Bucky, but he's an idiot.”

“Huge idiot. Don't know what you see in him,” Natasha winked as you scoffed. You would always try to see the good in him, even when you were upset. “But I have to say, I’m glad you two finally told each other how you feel.”

“Took you long enough,” the blonde teased halfheartedly. “Kind of hoped you would've said something before we showed up.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. The gang ran late to the beach house on purpose. Of course, they did. The girls were perceptive. Always had been. “So, you knew.”

“Everyone knew, except for the two of you. What’s that trope?” Natasha questioned, her gaze directed at Sharon. “Idiots in love?”

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “You two are a walking romance novel, torturing yourselves for no good reason.”

“So, I'm an idiot then?” you said, narrowing your eyes when they both opened their mouths. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

You beat yourself up enough.

“Like I said, I’m glad you told him and now you finally have confirmation that he feels the same way,” Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. “What's the problem then?”

“What do you mean?” You replied.

“You said you took the night to think, but you don't exactly look like you're ready to move forward.”

“Because I don't know if I am,” you admitted.

You were overthinking the situation. You wanted to be with Bucky, but some of your wall was still up and you didn't know how to tear the rest of it down. Why was it so hard?

“Look, I'm not excusing what Bucky did because he's an idiot for going out with Dot instead of talking to you, but you know how he feels now,” Natasha began, diplomatic and level-headed like always. “Do you plan to keep him at a distance as a way to protect yourself? Or are you maybe punishing him just a little bit for seemingly abandoning you?”

Leave it to her to ask the tough questions.

“I'm not trying to punish him,” you promised. Both of you had punished yourselves enough. “I just don't want him to hurt me. I mean, I spent two years thinking he'd never want me, but he just didn't want to fight for me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Or maybe he thought he never stood a chance and settled,” Sharon said. “Which, again, he’s an idiot. Most guys are.”

“So, what are you saying? That I should just pretend the last two years didn't happen?” You asked.

“No,” they said in sync.

You huffed. Why were girls both direct and cryptic? “Then what are you saying?”

Natasha grabbed a tissue and handed it over when a tear slid down your cheek. “We’re saying that we think Bucky is genuinely sorry for his stupid assumption and wants you to be his girl. Start slow if you have to and set the ground rules. If it means him apologizing every day with his words and actions, he will. And we know if you gave him your heart, it would be the last thing he'd break. Don’t you owe it to yourself to be happy?”

“Yeah. Maybe just start with a date,” Sharon said, tilting her head when you didn’t say anything. They were only trying to help, but why did it feel like pressure of sorts? Did they fully understand your apprehension? “You really don't see how he looks at you, do you?”

“Why would I when I convinced myself he'd never want me?” You whispered.

Bucky had convinced himself of the same thing. Maybe the two of you were idiots. How long would you continue to torture yourself? They had a point. Why not start with one date and see where it led?

What would be the harm in that, besides risking your whole heart?

“Well, we see how he looks at you,” Sharon said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wait. I have it.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Have what?” She asked. You wondered the same thing.

The front door opened before you got your answer, your heart skipping a beat when Bucky stopped in the doorway with a beach bag in hand. You realized after a moment that he was still in the same clothes he wore the day before, his eyes bloodshot as he looked your way. His hair was disheveled, too. He didn’t look like he slept well, if at all.

It broke your heart.

“Hey, Butterfly,” he croaked when you got to your feet, clearing his throat with a tired smile. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s just a sundress, Dreamboat,” you said, the compliment making your stomach flip before you took a step toward him. “Are you okay?”

His eyes lit up. “You’re still calling me that?”

“Of course, I am.” you smiled softly. He’d always be your Dreamboat. “Did you get any sleep?” You added, sighing when he confirmed your suspicion with a shake of his head. Had you been on his mind? “Why not?”

He gripped the bag handle like a lifeline. “I needed to find a way to say I’m sorry. Tried writing a letter and it wasn't enough.”

Your heart swelled, glancing back at the girls as they both gave you an encouraging smile. “Look. Before you do anything, why don’t you take a nap?” You suggested. “It’s still early and I’m not going anywhere.”

“A nap sounds like a good idea before volleyball,” Natasha said, leveling Bucky with a look. “In fact, why don’t you get him to bed?”

“Nat,” you hissed. Of course, she’d suggest you take him upstairs.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you two in a bit,” Sharon said.

The hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes was irresistible. “Come on,” you said, taking his arm once he kicked his shoes off. You felt his gaze on you as you took him up the stairs. It amazed you that he didn’t trip over his own feet since he kept his eyes on you. “I can tell you’re staring at me.”

“I half expected you to be gone this morning,” he said, opening his door. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Your stomach dropped. “You think I’d bolt after the conversation we had?” You asked. Did he think little of you now?

He chuckled under his breath. “I said half expected,” he teased.

Instead of releasing your arm, he pulled you into his room before you could protest. It wasn’t a good idea to be there, yet there you were. Not fighting it as he pulled you toward the bed.

His large, inviting bed.

“So, what’s in the bag?” You asked curiously to distract yourself as he set it down and stretched out on the bed, pulling you down with him. He gave you plenty of room so you wouldn’t have to cuddle close. He also left the door cracked open.

He was giving you an out.

“I can’t show you yet because I have to put it together,” he yawned, giving you an apologetic smile. “It’ll spoil the surprise otherwise.”

A giddy smile appeared on your face. He was actually going to make you something. “I’ll be patient,” you said, letting him keep your hand in his.

“Haven’t we been patient long enough?” He asked, his hair falling in his eyes as he gazed at you. Even exhausted, he was breathtaking. “I know you needed the night to think it over.”

The smile fell from your face, silence stretching in the room before you squeezed his hand. “Bucky, you need to get some sleep.”

He couldn’t mask the dejected look on his face. It wasn’t an outright rejection, but you hadn’t exactly declared that you should move forward. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice thick. “All I could see were the tears in your eyes and knowing I caused them.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. It was an assurance for yourself, too. You were okay and he hadn't tried to hurt you.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, the familiar determination back in his eyes. “And I don’t want to sleep. I want to make you smile. I want to win you a stuffed animal at the carnival.”

“You promised me that at dinner yesterday,” you teased.

“I want to take you dancing,” he added, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You could easily picture him smiling as he twirled you around and moved to the beat. Maybe that could be your first actual date. “As long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“I want to take you to bed,” he whispered,

You inhaled, your heart pounding at the implication. “Bucky…”

“I want to hear about your day. The little things, even the details that you think are mundane,” he said, scooting a bit closer. “I want to be the one you talk to and depend on again.”

Each declaration worked its way into your heart. Why couldn’t you just take the leap of faith? “We can’t just-”

“I want you to be my girl,” he said, his face inches from yours. “I want to give you everything.”

Your heart screamed at you to comfort him, kiss him, to tell him the same. “Bucky, you’re not giving me anything until you get some sleep,” you whispered, resting a hand on his cheek. He needed rest. “Please, for me?”

“I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I can't lose you again.”

You didn't want to lose him either. “You won't lose me because I’m not going anywhere. I said we’d figure this out together and I meant that,” you promised, needing to give him hope. “Close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He finally shut them as he breathed out, “Butterfly, I lo…”

You gasped as Bucky trailed off, smiling to yourself as your eyes misted over. You weren’t going to run. Not from him. Not when you owed it to yourself to be happy.

You told yourself that as his phone rang.

Even as Dot’s name showed on the screen.

It's fine, lovelies! 😭 Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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struggling-with-drivers · 5 months

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No Red Flags - Oscar Piastri

⋗ Pairing - Oscar Piastri x Mechanical Engineering Student!reader

⋗ Summary - Oscar comes crashes back into your life, quite literally when he barrels you down on the paddock, bringing with him all types of unwanted feelings and a whole slew of problems.

⋗ Word count - 11.2k words, fluff, Oscar being emotionally unavailable

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, I hope y'all don't mind this long fic, this was a reminder to myself that I hate type-setting texting, feedback and reblogs are appreciated

Oscar has never been the type to keep a girl for long, a mix of not having the time, and focusing all his efforts on karting, which has finally turned fruitful and given him a contract in F1.

A series of events has led him to exchange the girl on his arm just twice this year, one for another. His feelings just seemed to change, he tells you.

And you? You aren't much better, never able to hold onto a relationship, never falling fast, but always falling hard. The havoc the last guy left you in is still fresh in your mind, even if the guy isn't.

You're doing your internship at McLaren for their mechanical engineering department, and Oscar is in and out of the factory constantly to get ready for his debut next year. There aren't a lot of people around your age in the department, most are a lot more than a few years older. You would be as well if you managed to get a job when you're done with your master's. But that is years into the future, and you’re still writing your bachelor's.

It leaves Oscar to gravitate towards you, still not used to all the people constantly trying to get him to do this, do that, stand here, stand there. You're asking none of those things of him, mostly because you're stressed out of your mind with the looming deadline, and that you know you're behind on your bachelor.

But you get talking, a few words at first, which turns to exchanging weekend stories, turns to deep conversations when you're the only ones left in the department that one Tuesday afternoon. And you show him what you've been working on for your bachelor.

Oscar is intrigued, seemingly asking the right questions, admitting he would probably have been an engineer if he hadn't become a driver.

You mention offhand that you don't want to go home because you have to eat leftovers again, and Oscar pipes up with "I like food."

"What?"

"I like food, I can eat the last of your leftovers."

The already long Tuesday turns longer as you find yourself heating pasta and tomato sauce for this guy. Both are things that are definitely not on his dietary plan, but you're not complaining. Just happy to finally be rid of the last of your leftovers from the week before.

Oscar starts to talk about himself and tells you he used to go to boarding school, and you slowly realise you have quite a few things in common as the evening progresses. You tell him about your own short stint at a boarding school while your parents lived abroad. When the topic comes to past partners, Oscar tells you of how he kind of met his current girlfriend while being with his past one, how that was a dick move that he broke up with her 2 weeks after telling his ex that he was up for the long distance.

You tell him of the guy that fucked you up, how he had promised the world, only to go ahead and break your heart, and like a fool, you had taken him back when he apologised, only for him to go ahead and cheat on you, not just 1, not 2, but 3 times within the summer months. How he had wrecked your self-esteem, as he hadn't left quietly but wanted to tear you down as he left your world.

Then you sober up a bit and ask Oscar "Does your girlfriend know that you're here?"

Oscar shrugs, and goes "She doesn't have to if you don't tell her." The air shifts and it all feels wrong. He is sitting too close. You’re feeling nervous. A look of worry flashes on his face. You tell him he should get going.

“It's getting late, and I have work early in the morning.”

Oscar doesn't understand why you're kicking him out, and why you've suddenly closed yourself back up.

Once you've practically shoved him out of the door, you realise that you've fucked up. That was not what was meant to happen. That was not how you needed the last few weeks of your internship to be used.

But here you are, with Oscar in your vicinity at work, and he’s not understanding why you're so curt with him, why you aren't having the same kind of conversations with him anymore. And then one day you're gone, and he's told that your internship is over.

You become a passing thought in his head, and he becomes a distant memory in yours, something that happened during your internship.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

2 years later, you’re in the beginning stages of your master's degree. Oscar has had an amazing first year driving for McLaren and is still living his best life, although his relationships only seem to become even more short-lived than the last one. His current girl won't stick around for long, he knows this, it doesn't take an intellect to see that she's here for the travels and followers she gets on Instagram, and Oscar doesn't really care.

But then he sees you in Silverstone, at least he thinks he does. He tries to unsubtly turn around and walk past the Mercedes garage again. Instead, he ends up turning around and just staring straight into the group of students who are talking to the engineers. And sure enough, right by the group of guys you stick out.

"Oscar, what are you doing?" The PR manager asks, "We have places to be."

"Uh, yes, coming." Oscar turns away and catches back up.

"If you're going to steal secrets, don't do it so obviously,” his PR manager jokes, before rambling on about all the interviews he has to do after free practice today.

Oscar doesn't get why he can't get the image of you out of his head. He had honestly forgotten about you, but here you are, wearing Mercedes clothes, and for some reason, it unnerves him. You had always worn your own clothes or something with McLaren branding back 2 years ago. But now you're sporting an ever-usual ponytail and Mercedes clothes.

You stroll past the McLaren garage, hopeful to spot familiar faces from your internship. Instead, you find yourself halting, taking a moment to point out details on the car that you saw being worked on to your classmate – a reminiscent gesture from your internship at the McLaren factory. Unintentionally, your eyes briefly catch Oscar's. Witnessing a moment of hesitation, he pauses his conversation with Lando Norris, the first seater at McLaren. Choosing to move forward, you leave the scene as Patrick wants to see the Red Bull team before the qualifier kicks off.

Instead, Oscar comes barrelling out of the garage, yelling your name after you, causing you to flinch and stop. You turn around slowly, fully aware of the hundreds of eyes that have turned onto you.

"Hey." Oscar breathes out, his lips gracing a small smile.

"Hi?" You question back before your classmate sticks his hand out.

"Hello! I'm Patrick," your classmate says, waiting for Oscar to take his hand, and a few seconds too long passes before Oscar does.

"I'm Oscar, the driver for McLaren."

Patrick smiles wide, "I know! Can I take a picture with you? I'm sorry, I've just been a massive fan the last few years, tried to get in to write my master's degree but there weren't any slots open for our year and-"

"Yeah, sure." Oscar cuts him off, with a nod and a pr practised smile. Patrick fishes out his phone and quickly makes you snap a picture of the two.

"Thank you so much!" Your last lifeline, says as he's hurrying down the paddock ready to brag that he got a picture with Oscar Piastri.

"I thought you were a McLaren fan at heart." He tries to joke, as you shrug your shoulders.

"You heard him, there weren't any spots for our year, and I was lucky to get a foot in the door at Mercedes. I wasn't going to turn that down,” you tell him, looking around awkwardly, fully aware of how it looks to have what looks like a Mercedes engineer talking to the McLaren driver.

"You could have asked me?" The two of you aren't sure who's the most surprised by those words. Oscar for saying them, or you for hearing them.

"What?"

"I mean, you could have, eh, asked me?" Oscar realises how it sounds as he tries to defend his previous question. How could you even do that? You two never exchanged info, you were only friendly at work, and then you just stopped talking to each other.

"I will... I will keep that in mind?" You say although it comes out as another question, the surrounding air is turning awkward, and you know you should probably leave. "I will see you around. I just have things to do, and you know, Mercedes... Yes." You make a weird hand gesture before hurrying off down the paddock.

Oscar waves after you awkwardly, before stopping himself, realising that you aren't turning around to look at him.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The next time you see Oscar, it’s a lot less you see him, and much more you barely hear him calling out your name before he rams straight into you, sending both of you tumbling to the asphalt of the paddock.

“I’m so sorry!” Oscar is quick to apologise, as you’re trying to untangle yourself from the surprise attack. “Hello to you too.” You run a hand over your left elbow, you’ve scraped it. Oscar finally gets up on his feet, staring at you as you sit on the ground. “If I get blood on my shirt, I’m definitely sending you the invoice.”

You crack a small smile at his dumbfounded look, nodding to his hand before he reaches forward and you grab it. You let him help you up.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you were gone,” Oscar repeats himself. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to get the chance to give you my number.” He hands over a piece of paper. Chicken scratches in a surprisingly neat row, spelling out what you can barely decipher as a phone number.

“Thank you… Oscar?”

He smiles for a moment before the silence falls and his face seems to as well. He’s openly searching for a response, and you aren’t sure what it is. Apparently, thanking him wasn’t what he was hoping for.

You bite your tongue, before sighing. “You shouldn’t hand out your number to other girls when you’re in a relationship.”

Oscar blinks at you, “I’m not?”

“Then what about her?” You nod at the girl standing by the garage, wearing a hoodie with Oscar’s number on it. She’s looking more and more uncomfortable by the second as Oscar turns around and looks at her.

“Oh that… Yeah.” Oscar shrugs. It sends a shiver down your spine, his dismissal tone mixed with his indifferent facial expression. All of it screaming to you, he’s a walking red flag. Don’t do this to yourself.

You take a step back, your scraped elbow forgotten in the sudden surge of discomfort.

"Yeah," you manage to mumble, not wanting to linger any longer in this awkward exchange. You glance at the girl by the garage, whose eyes briefly meet yours before she looks away. It's clear she's caught in the middle of something she probably didn't sign up for.

"I... I thought..." Oscar stammers, seemingly at a loss for words.

You shake your head, deciding it is best not to delve into the intricacies of his personal life. "It doesn't matter. I have to go," you say, tucking the paper with his number into your pocket, the weight of it feeling surprisingly heavy.

As you walk away, you can't help but replay the brief encounter in your mind. It's a strange mix of nostalgia, irritation, and a newfound realisation that some things never really change. Oscar seems to be stuck in the same patterns, and you don't want to be a part of that cycle.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Days pass, and you find yourself torn between dialling the number and simply discarding it. The rational part of your mind screams at you to let it go, but there's a small, persistent voice that wonders if people can truly change. Another one telling you that you won’t be part of whatever cycle he’s going through if you just keep him at arm's length.

Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you type in his number. Chuckling to yourself at his contact name, before you decide to send a brief text.

You: Hey finally deciphered your chicken scratches how have you been?

The response is almost immediate.

Os🚗: Hey! I've been good. Any invoices I need to pay? You: Invoices? Os🚗: Yeah, for your team shirt, I know the first few ones are special. You: Ah no got it out with cold water and soap You: Thanks for that btw

You wait a minute before sending another text.

You: My elbow is all healed up as well Os🚗: Good to hear 👍 You: You text like my dad Os🚗: 👎 You: Skill issue

You laugh to yourself, before realising half your lecture is now looking at you. It pulls you right back to reality. You only texted him because it seemed slightly more fun than listening to a guest lecture on spring physics.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The days pass, and your interactions with Oscar continue sporadically through text. The initial awkwardness fades, replaced by a casual banter that surprises you. It's almost as if the past is being overwritten by a new script, one in which you're just two acquaintances catching up.

Yet, in the back of your mind, the warning signs still linger. The memory of that awkward encounter with the girl by the garage and Oscar's dismissive attitude towards her. Then add on all those years ago in your apartment where he told you to keep quiet, it all sits as a constant reminder. You find yourself treading carefully, keeping the conversations light and steering clear of anything that could lead to future problems.

As you're scrolling through your phone during a break, TikTok seems to think you’ve found a sudden interest in the edits of Oscar. A notification pops up. It's a message from the man of the hour.

Os🚗: Hey, I have a weekend off, and Lando has me coming to the UK. Do you have time to meet for some time?

You hesitate, considering the invitation. A part of you is curious about how a casual meeting would unfold, but another part is wary. Oscar has been very clear in every single one of your interactions that he wants to get closer to you, in a way that’s intruding on all your thoughts, will only bring you trouble, unwanted complications, and unneeded problems. You know he will try to mask any advantages with the simple gesture of just wanting to be friends.

But friends don’t look at each other the way Oscar looks at you, and it’s weird, you don’t want to find out why he does look at you like that.

You: Thanks for the offer but I've got plans this weekend. Maybe some other time

Oscar's response is swift.

Os🚗: No problem. Just let me know when you're free.

When you’re free? You really shouldn’t, you absolutely shouldn’t be considering it.

As the days pass, you find yourself contemplating the situation. The cautious voice in your head warns against getting too involved, while the curious side wonders if people truly can change. It's a delicate balance, and you're not sure which way to lean.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The allure of a face-to-face meeting lingers, but so does the memory of that uncomfortable encounter at the paddock. Oscar keeps pestering you through texts as the months pass, you’re making up excuses as you go, yet your reasoning keeps running thinner until you’re left with nothing to justify your rejections.

You're sipping coffee and reviewing some notes, as your phone buzzes with a call from Oscar. Why would he be calling you, he never calls, he only ever texts in that dad-type of way. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you answer.

"Hey, it's Oscar."

A small laugh slips past your lips, "Yeah, I know, caller ID was invented half a century ago."

"McLaren has me in London, well, south of it, and I was thinking we could grab a coffee or something. Face-to-face, you know?"

“Oscar… Why are you so insistent?” The question blurts out of you before you seem to realise you actually said it out loud.

“Because we’re friends?” It’s meant to sound like an answer, but to you, it sounds like he’s inquiring about the most obvious thing in the world. And for a moment you feel like an asshole.

A small moment of weakness shows in the way you say, “I don’t have the time to come to London, but if you find yourself in Brackley on Thursday.”

You never mention a time or a place, yet he agrees so easily, and you wonder if you’re going to regret this.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Thursday arrives, and you’re nervously glancing at the clock as the appointed time approaches. Your work at Mercedes keeps you occupied, but there's a subtle anticipation building in the background. The decision to meet Oscar has left you in a state of conflicting emotions, and you're not entirely sure what to expect.

As the clock strikes the start of your lunch break, you're surprised to see Oscar approaching the entrance of the Mercedes facility. His casual demeanour contrasts with the high-security surroundings, but he seems unfazed. You meet him at the entrance, exchanging a brief nod.

"Hey," he greets you with a warm smile.

"Hey," you reply, feeling a mix of uncertainty and curiosity.

Oscar suggests grabbing a coffee from a nearby café, and you agree yet again. The conversation flows more smoothly than you anticipated. It's easy and casual, and you're reminded of the times when you first met at McLaren. The awkwardness seems to have dissipated, replaced by a shared understanding of each other's worlds.

As you discuss work, life, and everything in between, you notice a genuine interest in Oscar's eyes. It's a stark contrast to the distant look he had during your internship. Maybe people can change, you think, or at least, they can show different sides of themselves.

As the coffee date comes to an end, you both stand outside the café. There's a moment of silence, and you can sense a question lingering in the air.

"Look," Oscar starts, "I know things got weird back then, and I probably should've been more upfront. I just want you to know that I genuinely enjoyed our conversations, and I'd like to keep talking, don’t… run away again, please."

You appreciate his honesty, and for a moment, you contemplate sharing your reservations. But you decide against it, choosing instead to take things one step at a time.

"I appreciate that, Oscar," you reply, offering a small smile. "But let's just see where things go."

The two of you part ways, and you can't deny the subtle warmth that lingers. Maybe, just maybe, this time around will be different. As you return to your work at Mercedes, you can't help but wonder how the next chapter of your story with Oscar will unfold.

That voice in the back of your head is screaming that Oscar is going to cause you problems, yet you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. And as much as you know you should agree, you find yourself ignoring it.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You're not quite sure how Oscar ended up in your apartment once again, however, you can not find it in yourself to complain. Nor do you want him to leave. The smile that rests on his lips has your heart fluttering, despite your mind knowing Oscar is nothing but trouble.

The soft hum of a familiar tune plays in the background as you move around your kitchen, gathering ingredients for a simple pasta dish. Oscar sits at the small dining table, watching with genuine interest as you go about your culinary routine.

"Do you cook often?" he asks, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

You chuckle, glancing over your shoulder. "Well, I try. It's therapeutic, you know? I want to say it's cheaper, but we both know in this economy nothing is cheap."

Oscar smiles, appreciating the casual atmosphere that envelops your apartment. The aroma of garlic and tomatoes begins to fill the air as you start chopping vegetables.

"Need any help?" he offers, standing up and joining you at the counter.

You hand him a knife and a bell pepper. "How about you tackle this? Just chop it into small pieces."

Oscar nods, mimicking your chopping technique. The rhythmic sound of knives against cutting boards fills the kitchen, creating a comforting melody. As you work side by side, a gentle ease settles between you.

"So," Oscar begins, breaking the silence, "what's the secret ingredient in this pasta?"

You wink playfully. "That's a trade secret. But I'll give you a hint – it starts with 'herbs.'"

He laughs, and the genuine warmth in the sound makes your heart flutter. As the vegetables sizzle in the pan, you find yourself caught in the simplicity of the moment. The soft glow of the kitchen lights, the shared laughter, and the anticipation of a homemade meal create a cocoon of tranquillity.

Once the pasta is perfectly al dente, you drain it and add it to the simmering sauce. Oscar takes a step closer, his eyes fixed on the creation taking shape before him.

"Looks delicious," he remarks.

You grin, handing him a fork. "The real test is in the taste."

Together, you sit at the table, savouring each bite of the pasta. The flavours dance on your taste buds, and you can't help but appreciate the quiet joy of sharing a meal you have prepared together.

The dinner table is adorned with the remnants of the delicious pasta, and the two of you sit comfortably, basking in the warmth of shared food and easy conversation. The soft glow of the kitchen lights casts a cosy ambience.

Oscar looks at you, a gentle smile on his face. "This is really good, you know. You've got some serious cooking skills. It's even better than last time when I got to eat your leftovers."

You return the smile, appreciating the compliment. "Thanks, Oscar. I'm glad you like it."

There's a brief pause, and Oscar's expression becomes more contemplative. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you reply, taking a sip of your drink.

Oscar hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I've noticed that things have been a bit... different between us. You seem to be, I don't know, running away or avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?"

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "It's not that you did something wrong, Oscar. It's just that... it feels like you're set on making things complicated for me."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Complicated? What do you mean?"

You chuckle, a hint of irony in your tone. "Oscar, you're a walking enigma. You come into my life, seemingly wanting to be friends, and then there's this underlying tension, this feeling that you're here to stir up trouble."

He looks genuinely perplexed. "Trouble? I don't want to cause trouble for you. I just want to get to know you better."

You meet his gaze, sincerity in your eyes. "I appreciate that, but there are moments when it feels like you're intentionally making things challenging. Like you enjoy the chaos."

Oscar leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I genuinely don't want to complicate things for you. If there's something I'm doing that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know."

You sigh, realising the complexity of the situation. "Let's not dwell on it too much. It's just a feeling I get sometimes."

He seems about to press further, but you change the topic with a light laugh. "Anyway, did I tell you about the time I accidentally set off the fire alarm at University? We were trying to test out this new engine, but it caught on fire. Disaster in the garage, trust me."

Oscar chuckles along, as you make a point to ignore the way he's staring at you. You can feel his eyes searching for your face for something you won't give to him. Instead, deep inside of you, you realise that little voice in your head has been quiet the entire time Oscar has been in your apartment.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You’re neglecting your book about fluid physics as you and Oscar are talking over Facetime. The idea of going clubbing has just been tossed into the conversation, and Oscar, ever the persuader, leans closer to the camera with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Come on," he says, a charming smile playing on his lips. "Even university students need a break, you know? It's all about finding the right balance between work and play."

You raise an eyebrow, sceptical but intrigued. "Balance, huh? I do have assignments due next week."

Oscar chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "And that's precisely why you should take a break. Trust me, a night of dancing and fun is the perfect way to recharge those academic batteries. Besides, Lando and I have been planning this for ages, and it wouldn't be the same without you."

He glances towards something out of the camera's lens, you aren't sure what, yet you can sense the anticipation in his demeanour.

"I'm not sure," you admit, considering the proposition.

Oscar leans in again, adopting a more serious tone. "Look, I get it. University life can be hectic, but you deserve to have some fun too. It's not just about the grades and deadlines; it's about creating memories and enjoying the journey. Tonight, let's forget about responsibilities and just live in the moment."

His words resonate with a certain truth, and you find yourself swaying toward the idea. Still, a hint of hesitation lingers.

"I promise it won't be an all-night affair," Oscar reassures, sensing your wavering resolve. "Just a couple of hours of music, laughter, and good company. You won't regret it."

You weigh the options, glancing between Oscar's earnest expression and your open book about fluid physics. A sigh escapes you, accompanied by a smile. "Alright, fine. But just for a couple of hours."

Oscar's face lights up with triumph, and he gives you a playful wink. "That's the spirit! Trust me; you won't regret this."

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the club as you, Oscar, and Lando immerse yourselves in the vibrant atmosphere. The dance floor is a sea of moving bodies, and the colourful lights create a kaleidoscope of patterns.

Lando, with his infectious energy, is already lost in the rhythm, leaving you and Oscar to navigate the crowded space. The bass thumps in your chest, and you sway to the music, caught up in the electrifying ambience.

Oscar, with his hand on the small of your back, guides you through the sea of dancers. The touch is subtle, but the warmth of his palm sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but notice how close he is, the proximity making your senses come alive.

As the music intensifies, Oscar pulls you into a spontaneous twirl. The movement is fluid, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. The chemistry between you two on the dance floor is undeniable, a magnetic pull that defies logic.

You catch a glimpse of Lando, who's thoroughly enjoying the night, his carefree spirit infectious. But your attention keeps drifting back to Oscar – the way his body moves in sync with yours, the fleeting touches that send sparks, and the undeniable connection that lingers in the air.

Amid the chaos, you try to remind yourself of the reality. Oscar has a girlfriend, and this moment on the dance floor should be nothing more than a carefree escapade. Still, the pull between you two is undeniable, and your mind can't help but wander to places it shouldn't.

The bass drops, the lights flash, and the intensity of the music amplifies. Oscar's hands find their way to your hips, the touch sending a surge of electricity through your veins. It's intoxicating, and for a fleeting second, you forget the boundaries that should exist.

As the night unfolds, the three of you lose track of time on the dance floor. The chemistry between you and Oscar continues to spark, creating a tension that hangs in the air. Each touch, each movement, is a delicate dance on the fine line between desire and restraint.

Finally, as the music winds down, you catch your breath, the thumping beat still echoing in your ears. Lando grins, thoroughly pleased with the night's festivities, while Oscar's gaze lingers, a silent acknowledgement of the shared energy on the dance floor.

You step away, the cool air outside the club hitting you, offering a momentary respite from the heated atmosphere within. As you take a deep breath, you can't shake off the lingering sensations – Oscar's touch, the rhythmic dance, and the unspoken tension that hangs in the air.

You remind yourself once more, that you're just friends. You're just friends. You're just friends. You repeat this as your mantra.

You are not a homewrecker.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You're engrossed in your studies at the university library, and your defence of your master's degree is around the corner. You need every moment you can get to study your thesis when a voice interrupts your concentration.

"Hey there."

You glance up, and to your utter surprise, there's Oscar standing right beside your table, a grin on his face.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, a mixture of shock and concern in your voice.

"Thought I'd surprise you," he replies casually.

You cast a wary glance around, acutely aware of the studious atmosphere in the library. "Oscar, you can't just show up here. People will talk."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Let them talk. What's the big deal?"

You lower your voice, trying to convey the gravity of the situation. "The big deal is that you're dating someone else, and it's not a great look for either of us if you're seen here."

He glances around, noticing a few curious stares. "Come on, it's not a big deal. Let's grab some coffee or something."

Despite your protests, Oscar leads you out of the library, and you can't shake off the feeling of eyes following the two of you. As you walk through the campus, people start recognising Oscar, and the camera shutters start clicking.

"Oscar, seriously. This is a bad idea," you insist, glancing nervously at the onlookers.

He brushes off your concerns. "Relax, it's just a few pictures. No one will care."

But you know better. You can already feel the whispers and stares, and you're caught in the uncomfortable spotlight of a situation you never signed up for. As you enter a nearby café, the buzzing of conversations seems to rise.

"This is not how I imagined spending my afternoon," you mutter, frustration evident in your voice.

Oscar, however, seems unfazed, ordering coffee as if everything is perfectly normal. "It's just people taking photos. It'll blow over."

You glance at the coffee cup he hands you, the whole situation feeling surreal. "Oscar, you're dating someone else. This is not fair to anyone involved."

He chuckles, dismissing your concern. "Let them speculate. It's not like we're doing anything wrong."

Despite his nonchalance, you can't shake off the unease settling in your stomach. As the two of you sit in the café, surrounded by curious glances, you realise that Oscar's surprise visit has turned into a spectacle – one that you would have preferred to avoid.

"Oscar, be honest. Why are you here?" you ask, watching his facade of nonchalance crumble.

"I missed your cooking?" he tries, but the way he winces completely gives away any chance that the lie might have worked.

"You're supposed to be, like, in the US," you say, your gaze making him squirm in his seat.

"Brazil, actually," he corrects, avoiding eye contact and glancing around at the spectacle he has unwittingly created. Phones around the two of you are noticeably pointing in your direction. "Maybe we should leave?"

"Oscar–"

He grabs your hand, tugging you along with him. Your coffee, still hot and now abandoned, sits on the table inside the store. As he leads you away from the prying eyes, you can feel a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling inside you.

"Where are we going?" you ask, trying to keep pace with his hurried steps.

"Anywhere away from here. Let's find someplace quiet," he suggests the urgency in his voice betraying the fact that he recognises the magnitude of his misstep.

The two of you navigate through the campus, Oscar leading the way with a determination that seems at odds with the careless attitude he had displayed earlier. As you distance yourselves from the buzzing crowd, he finally slows down.

"I didn't think it would be this... chaotic," he admits a touch of regret in his voice.

"You didn't think? Oscar, you're dating someone else. This isn't just about me. What were you expecting?" you say, frustration lacing your words.

He looks genuinely remorseful. "I just wanted to surprise you. I didn't realise it would turn into this."

"Well, surprises come with consequences, especially when you're in the public eye," you reply, your tone firm.

Oscar sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I messed up, and I'm sorry."

You stop walking, forcing him to face you. "This isn't just about today. It's about everything, Oscar. You're dating someone, yet you keep showing up, making it complicated."

He looks down, seemingly at a loss for words. After a moment, he meets your gaze. "I don't know what to say."

You take a step back, disentangling your hand from his. "Maybe it's time to figure that out. For both of our sakes."

The weight of the situation hangs in the air, and you realise that this unexpected encounter has unravelled more than just a quiet afternoon. As Oscar searches for words, you can't help but wonder how he thought this could have ever been a good idea.

“Why can't you let me be your friend?” He asks. Oscar has the audacity to ask that? As though he didn't fly across the world to surprise you on a race week.

“Because friends don't act like this, and I don't want to be a home wrecker.” You tell him, frustration bubbling in your blood as he seems to keep missing the point.

Oscar looks at you, a mix of confusion and perhaps realisation in his eyes. "Home wrecker? We're just friends hanging out."

You can't help but scoff at his apparent obliviousness. "Friends don't cause scenes, Oscar. Friends don't make grand gestures across continents when they're in a committed relationship."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "I just wanted to see you. What's the harm in that?"

"The harm, Oscar, is that you're not being fair to anyone involved. Not to me, not to your girlfriend," you reply, your voice carrying the weight of your exasperation.

He looks at you, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "She doesn't have to know every little thing. We can just enjoy our time together."

You shake your head, feeling the need to make him understand. "It's not about keeping secrets. It's about respecting boundaries, about being honest with yourself and the people around you. I can't be a part of something that feels like it's headed for disaster."

He seems to be grappling with your words, his expression shifting between frustration and a realisation that maybe this situation isn't as casual as he thought.

“I didn't mean to complicate things,” he finally admits, a rare vulnerability in his voice.

You take a deep breath, the frustration in your blood now replaced with a sombre resolve. "Oscar, sort things out on your end. I need to focus on my studies and my life. I can't keep navigating this uncertainty."

He nods, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I didn't mean to make things complicated… For you."

“You keep saying that, and then… You– you do things like this.” You take a deep breath, “I'm going home, I have things to study, and you have somewhere to be across the– god, Oscar… You're supposed to be halfway across the world.”

You tighten the grab on your bag as you watch his eyes flicker over your face, before turning and walking away. Leaving him standing there.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The world is cruel, horrifically cruel in fact. Your nerves are all over as you wait outside the set of doors that's going to decide the fate of your master's degree. You're about to go defend your thesis when your phone flashes with the words.

Os🚗 is calling…

You're quick to swipe it, the last thing you need is to talk to Oscar after 2 months of silence. Especially not right now, not before you're going to defend your thesis.

Os🚗 is calling…

Flashes once more, you glance up at the clock. 15 minutes before it's your turn.

You deny the call.

Os🚗 is calling…

Fuck.

“What?” You hiss into the phone.

“I broke up with my girlfriend.” His voice is slightly chipper, as though the news is supposed to make you rejoice with glee.

“Good for you? Oscar, I don't know what to say, what do you want me to say? I don't have time for this!” You're stressed, the clock reads 14 minutes till your defence. You're pacing the floor, unable to stand still, your nerves are eating you from the inside out. You wish this could all just be over with, you need it to pass you by in an instant.

Oscar's voice on the other end remains unnervingly nonchalant, a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions stirring within you. "I thought you should know. You know, in case you cared."

"Oscar, this is not the time," you snap, the urgency of the ticking clock amplifying your frustration. "I have my master's thesis defence in a few minutes, and I can't deal with this right now."

There's a brief pause on the line before Oscar continues, seemingly undeterred. "I just thought you should know since, you know, we're friends and all."

The word "friends" echoes in your ears, a reminder of the blurred lines that have caused so much turmoil in the past. You take a deep breath, attempting to centre yourself amidst the storm of conflicting emotions.

"Oscar, please. I appreciate you letting me know, but I can't handle this distraction right now. I need to focus on my defence," you plead, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

"Right, right," Oscar says, the realisation in his tone belated. "Good luck with your defence. I'll, uh, talk to you later?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Later, Oscar."

As you end the call, you glance at the clock – 12 minutes left. The weight of impending judgment looms over you, but you shake off the distraction, determined to face the panel and defend your thesis with the focus it deserves. The world may be cruel, but you're not about to let it derail the culmination of your hard work and dedication.

The defence room is a blur of questions, explanations, and nods of approval. Somehow, you manage to navigate the academic minefield, answering each query with a precision that surprises even yourself. As the last question concludes, the panel members exchange satisfied glances, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. The defence is over, and you've held your ground.

Exiting the room, you're greeted by the smiles of your family, the relief in their eyes mirroring your own. You share a moment of celebration, the culmination of years of hard work and determination. The weight on your shoulders begins to lift, replaced by the joy of accomplishment.

Just as you're about to immerse yourself in the warmth of your family's congratulations, a familiar voice cuts through the air. "Congratulations!"

You turn, and there he is – Oscar, standing in the corridor, an awkward smile on his face. The shock of seeing him here, especially after the phone call just an hour ago, momentarily freezes your elation.

"Oscar, what are you doing here?" you ask, a mix of surprise and confusion in your voice.

He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. "I wanted to congratulate you. I mean, you just defended your thesis, right? That's a big deal."

Your family exchanges curious glances, and you can feel their unspoken questions. You take a deep breath, deciding to focus on the achievement at hand. "Thank you, Oscar. I appreciate that. But I'm with my family right now, and we're celebrating. Maybe we can catch up later."

His smile falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Of course. I just wanted to say congrats. I'll see you around, then."

As Oscar walks away, you turn back to your family, their expressions a mix of understanding and concern. The elation from your successful defence is now tempered by the unexpected encounter with Oscar. You push the lingering questions to the back of your mind, choosing to savour the joy of the moment with those who have been with you through thick and thin.

Your dinner out with your family is nice, but your mind is solely on Oscar. You didn't know he was in town, not that you wanted to know when he was. A headache works its way through your head, as you put on a smile and cheer with your parents and siblings. Brushing off questions about the cute guy who came to congratulate you, forcing you to call him a friend. That stupid word still doesn't sit right in your mouth, it never does when it comes to Oscar.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You find yourself unable to think about anything but yesterday, your phone is in your hand as Oscar’s contact is pulled up. Why did he call you about breaking up with his girlfriend? Why did he then show up? What did he expect you to do? To say? To… You’re frustrated, pacing the floor once again, as you can’t figure out whether or not you should call him. Instead, the universe seems to decide for you, as his contact flashes on your phone, mirroring yesterday.

Os🚗 is calling…

You stare at the screen, contemplating whether to answer or not. The events of the past 24 hours have left you emotionally drained, and you're not sure if you have the energy to navigate through another conversation with Oscar. However, a part of you, perhaps against your better judgement, decides to answer.

"What now, Oscar?" you answer, your tone a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

"Hey," his voice sounds through the phone, and you can almost picture the casual smile he might be wearing.

"What do you want?" you ask bluntly, not in the mood for small talk.

"I just wanted to check in. You know, after your defence and all," he replies, feigning innocence.

"Save it, Oscar. I don't need your checking in," you snap, the irritation is evident in your voice. "What happened yesterday was unnecessary. I was celebrating with my family, and you just had to insert yourself into the moment."

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line before he speaks, his voice carrying a sincerity that catches you off guard. "I genuinely wanted to congratulate you. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Well, you did," you retort, feeling a mix of anger and disappointment. "And I don't need your congratulations. I need you to respect my boundaries."

Another pause follows, and when Oscar finally speaks, his tone is more subdued. "I get it. I messed up. I'm sorry."

Sorry. It's a word you've heard from him before, and each time it feels less convincing. You take a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts. "Oscar, I don't know what you expect from me, but we can't keep doing this."

"I know, I know," he says, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, a gesture you've come to associate with his moments of frustration. "I just... I thought we were friends, and I wanted to be there for you."

You let out a bitter laugh. "Friends? Oscar, friends don't complicate each other's lives like this. We've been through this before. I can't keep playing this game with you."

There's a heavy silence, and you wonder if he's even listening or if he's already moved on to the next distraction. Finally, he speaks, his voice softer. "Then let me be more…"

"Oscar, let me be clear," you assert, the frustration evident in your voice. "I need you to get your shit together. This constant back-and-forth, the unexpected appearances, it's not fair to anyone involved, especially not to me. Figure out what you want, sort out your own life, and maybe then we can talk about what 'more' means."

His silence hangs on the line, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. This is a conversation long overdue, and the weight of the words you're about to say carries a gravity you can't ignore.

“But once you do…” You are already regretting the next words you are to speak. "I will not wait around for you, but... But I wouldn't be completely opposed to finding out whatever ‘more' means."

“Okay, okay I can do that.” Oscar sounds, not happy, but rather optimistic and hopeful. “Do you think you would want to… Maybe let me cook for once?”

“Yeah…” You breathe out, “I think I would like that.”

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The hum of machinery fills the air as you make your way through the bustling Mercedes factory, a stark contrast to the chaotic world you left behind. The engineering department is your sanctuary, a place where the precision of machines and the logic of design bring a sense of order to your life.

You sit at your desk, surrounded by schematics and blueprints, immersing yourself in the intricate details of your work. The rhythm of your routine is comforting, and you've come to appreciate the stability your job offers. As a mechanical engineer, your skills find their purpose in the assembly and improvement of high-performance engines, a far cry from the unpredictable whirlwind that was Oscar Piastri.

Today, a new intern, Gabbie, has joined the team, bringing with her a fresh enthusiasm that seems almost infectious. She approaches your desk, curiosity written all over her face.

"Hey there! I heard you're one of the seasoned engineers around here. Mind if I pick your brain a bit?" Gabbie asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

You offer a friendly smile, welcoming the chance for a break from the monotony. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

Gabbie hesitates for a moment before blurting out, "Oscar Piastri! Do you know him? The McLaren driver?"

Your eyes narrow slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected mention of Oscar in this professional setting. "Yeah, I know him. What about him?"

Gabbie grins, oblivious to any subtleties. "I heard he's a pretty cool guy. You know, being a Formula 1 driver and all. Any interesting stories or insights about him?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating how to navigate this conversation without delving into the complexities of your history with Oscar. "Well, he's certainly talented on the track. As for stories, you might want to focus on the engineering marvels we're creating here. That's where the real excitement is."

Gabbie seems undeterred, pushing for more details. "Come on, there must be something. What's he like in person? Is he as cool as he seems on TV?"

You lean back in your chair, trying to redirect the conversation. "Look, we're here to work on groundbreaking technology and push the limits of performance. If you want insights into the world of Formula 1, maybe you should visit a race or something. But around here, let's focus on the engineering challenges ahead of us."

Gabbie, slightly disappointed but still eager, nods and scurries off, likely in search of a more willing source of gossip. You return to your work, the hum of the factory providing a comforting backdrop.

As you refocus on your work, another colleague, Tom, strolls over, his friendly demeanour evident. He glances at Gabbie retreating in the distance and raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What was that all about?" Tom asks, nodding towards Gabbie's disappearing figure.

You can't help but smile, the memory of Oscar and the whirlwind of emotions he brings resurfacing. "Oh, she just wanted to know something about a friend of mine."

Tom chuckles, sensing there's more beneath the surface. "Friend, huh? Spill the details. You've got that mysterious smile on your face."

You shake your head, a playful glint in your eyes. "Nothing scandalous, just Oscar she's curious about. You know how people get star-struck."

“Ah, Piastri, right? I forgot you know him.” Tom laughs, "Well, since you mentioned that you're friends with an F1 driver, you've got to share some perks with the rest of us, right?"

“Shut up Tom,” you roll your eyes at him, as he wiggles his eyebrows. “What did you drop by for anyways?”

He waves his iPad in the air. “I got the analytical data back from the stress test, and I need you to go over it before this afternoon.”

Your thoughts of Oscars are washed away in an array of statistics and equations.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Despite not being on the best speaking terms with Oscar for the moment, you truly can’t seem to escape him. Twitter has become obsessed with a recent interview with Oscar. You try not to follow his life through the media, an attempt to respect him enough to let him tell you what he wants you to know about him. That said, sometimes the internet makes that an impossible feat.

In the interview clip circulating on Twitter, Oscar sits comfortably in the studio, a backdrop of sponsor logos and racing memorabilia behind him. The interviewer, armed with a charismatic smile, delves into various aspects of Oscar's life, from his recent races to his off-track interests.

As you scroll through the snippets, you can't deny the pang of curiosity that tugs at you. The dichotomy between the Oscar you know personally and the one presented to the world through interviews is stark. It's a reminder of the deliberate distance he maintains, carefully navigating the narrative of his public persona.

The interviewer grins, steering the conversation towards personal anecdotes. "And what about love, Oscar? Any new special someone in your life?"

Oscar squirms in his seat, as a blush spreads across his face. “Well…” His eyes flicker around the room. “No, not recently.”

“Oh really? That’s a surprise, you’re otherwise known for changing it up quite a bit.” The interviewer winks, as though that statement wasn’t wildly inappropriate.

Oscar chuckles nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation has taken. "Yeah, well, I've had my fair share of changes. But, you see, there's someone… someone I've known for a long time. And, uh, I guess I messed up. Big time."

The interviewer leans forward, sensing a potential scoop. "Care to share more about this mystery person?"

Oscar hesitates, glancing at his hands for a moment before meeting the interviewer's gaze. "We've been through a lot together. I've known her for years, and I can honestly say she's the one who knows me best. But, you know, life happens, and I've hurt her more than I care to admit."

The revelation hangs in the air, leaving an unspoken weight. Your heart skips a beat as the pieces click into place. The cryptic words, the veiled references – it's about you. The interview, unbeknownst to the public, has become a confessional, a subtle admission of guilt and remorse.

The interviewer, sensing the delicacy of the situation, shifts gears. "It sounds like a complicated story. Do you think there's a chance for reconciliation?"

Oscar's gaze falters, a mixture of regret and uncertainty in his eyes. "I don't know. I hope so. But I've got a lot to figure out, and it might be too late."

The vulnerability in his admission is palpable, and the internet, now buzzing with speculation, picks up on the emotional depth of Oscar's words. As you close the app, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, surprise, sadness, and an unexpected twinge of hope as your phone pings with a text message.

Os🚗: Don’t open Twitter. You: Good morning to you too Os🚗: I’m serious. Os🚗: Remember that old picture from a few years ago? You: What picture? Os🚗: When I ran into you, and we both ended up on the ground, that one.

You snort, you absolutely remember both the picture and that day.

Os🚗: I gave an interview, and I might have mentioned you by accident? You: You don’t sound sure Os🚗 is calling…

You’re quick to accept the call, as you twirl your coffee. A long day of work ahead of you, and now a mess that Oscar has apparently dragged you into it seems. “Okay, so I just wanted the interviewer to change the questions, and I mentioned you, and I’m sorry, and then someone started digging online, and that you’ve been around me for years, and that stupid picture from back then got dug up, and someone else then found out that you’re still working for Mercedes, and please let me pick you up Friday?” All the words come rushing out of Oscar's mouth at once.

“I’m sorry what?” Your head is already spinning.

“Go out with me,” Oscar repeats. “Friday, I’ll pick you up.”

“Yeah, okay, okay, okay, I got that part. Now back up. What about the rest?” You suck in a deep breath, as you prepare yourself for what the hell Oscar just said. Oscar takes a moment to gather his thoughts, realising he might have split too much in a rush of anxiety. "Look, I messed up during the interview. I didn't mean to bring you into it, but then people started connecting the dots, and now it's all over social media. I didn't want you to be dragged into this mess, especially considering everything."

"Considering everything? Oscar, what did you say?" Your tone edges towards frustration. “I saw a few clips on Twitter.”

“I thought I said not to – never mind.” He sighs, "I might have hinted that you're someone important to me and that I've messed things up with you. It wasn't supposed to be like this, and I'm genuinely sorry for bringing you into it without your consent."

Your mind races, both with irritation at the situation and a surprising warmth at Oscar's unexpected admission. "Okay, I appreciate the apology, but fuck, I don’t need my job jeopardised because of something online. What if someone reaches out, I mean my supervisor is already not ecstatic about the fact that I’m good friends with you. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m dating you.”

“But –” Oscar starts before you cut him off.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” You tell him.

“So you’ll let me take you out on Friday?” He asks, anticipation hanging in the air, a soft smile on your lips. One he can’t see, and one you would not admit to if he were to ask.

“Yeah, yeah…” You breathe out, “I want you to bring the ugliest bouquet of flowers though, that’s the only thing I ask of you.”

“The ugliest?”

You hum in approval. “We’ll figure out the rest later, I have to get back to work before I get too far behind on my assignments for today.”

“I’ll text you the details,” Oscar says before hanging up, you keep the phone against your chin as you take a long slurp of your coffee. You can’t believe you actually agreed to go out with him, especially in the middle of the mess he has just created.

Oscar drives you insane, and it seems to be in the best way possible. You smile as you finally put away your phone and start up on your first assignment of the day.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The anticipation builds as you wait outside, glancing at your watch and then at the passing cars. It's Friday evening, and Oscar is supposed to pick you up. Your attire is casual, as per his instructions, but you can't shake off the lingering nervousness and excitement.

Finally, you spot his distinctive car approaching, the engine's low growl hinting at its power. Oscar pulls up with a confident smile, and you can't help but notice how his presence seems to fill the space around him.

He steps out of the car, wearing a simple yet stylish outfit. "Hey," he greets you, his eyes reflecting a mix of eagerness and uncertainty.

"Hey," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "Nice car."

Oscar grins, clearly proud of his choice. "Thanks. Ready for an adventure?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this going to be an adventure?"

He chuckles. "Well, let's just say, it's a night of surprises."

As you get into the car, you can't help but wonder what exactly Oscar has planned. The tension in the air is palpable, a mix of unresolved emotions and the promise of something new. The drive is filled with light banter, both of you carefully avoiding the elephant in the room – the mess created by Oscar's interview.

The car pulls to a night school, you look over at Oscar, a smile on his lips. Secrecy in his eyes, as he’s quickly out of his door. Walking around the car to help you out of it, a hand in yours.

“I promised I would cook for you,” he reminds you, as he leads you through the hallways of the school, before reaching the kitchen, “except I would like for it to be edible, so I got us into a cooking class.”

He opens the door, and two other couples are already inside the kitchen, including what you’re guessing is going to be your teacher.

“Oscar Piastri,” He tells the teacher, who notes it down before remarking on there still being a couple missing. She points you and Oscar to stand at the front right kitchen island.

“You’re so stupid.” You whisper to him, as he eagerly drags you over to the island. Helping you get your apron on.

He leans in, his breath hot on your neck as he’s tying your apron. “You haven’t seen the half of it yet.”

As the class begins, you find yourselves surrounded by the aromas of various ingredients and the lively chatter of the other couples. Oscar seems surprisingly excited about the cooking class, and you can't help but be swept up in his enthusiasm.

The teacher, a seasoned chef with a no-nonsense attitude, introduces the menu for the evening – a complex dish that involves a delicate balance of flavours and precise techniques. As the instructions are given, you exchange glances with Oscar, both of you silently agreeing to tackle this challenge together.

Oscar takes charge of the first step, expertly handling the knife as he chops vegetables with precision. You observe his focused expression, the playful glint in his eyes occasionally surfacing. The air between you carries a comfortable warmth, a stark contrast to the earlier tensions.

As you work side by side, the occasional laughter and banter with the other couples create a communal atmosphere in the kitchen. You can't help but be grateful for the distraction – the opportunity to focus on something other than the complexities of your relationship with Oscar.

The cooking process unfolds smoothly, and soon, the kitchen is filled with the enticing aroma of the dish coming together. Oscar steals a moment to glance at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "How are we doing so far?"

You return the smile, genuinely enjoying the experience. "Surprisingly well, considering your questionable reputation in the kitchen."

He mockingly gasps, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, right in the culinary skills."

The teacher makes her rounds, offering guidance and checking on each couple's progress. As she approaches you and Oscar, you brace yourself for scrutiny. To your surprise, she nods approvingly. "You two seem to have a good handle on things. Impressive."

You share a triumphant look with Oscar, the sense of accomplishment strengthening the connection between you. The dish is finally plated, and the class gathers to taste each other's creations. The blend of flavours is exquisite, a testament to the collective effort of the participants.

With the cooking portion complete, the teacher commends the class and invites everyone to enjoy the fruits of their labour. You and Oscar find a quiet corner, plates in hand, and sit together.

As you take the first bite, the rich flavours dance on your palate. Oscar watches you, anticipation in his eyes. You meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgement passing between you. Despite the chaos and unexpected twists, this evening has become a shared memory, a moment of unity amidst the complexities of life.

"So," Oscar begins, breaking the comfortable silence, "how would you rate my cooking skills?"

You savour another bite before responding with a playful grin. "I'll give you a solid eight out of ten. Surprisingly, you didn't burn anything."

He feigns offence, but the smile on his lips betrays him.

You lift your fork to let him taste a part of the elderly couple’s dish. You expect Oscar to take your fork. Instead, he leans in, keeping eye contact with you, as he eats from your fork. Your breath hitches, and his eyes are staring into yours intensely. Warmth spreads from your neck and up. Then he pulls back, finally chewing on the food.

He uses the back of his hand to dry off his mouth, still keeping his eyes locked with yours, as he flashes you a cheeky grin. “That was delicious.”

A sudden shyness overtakes you, as you look away. Why did he…?

Then the teacher claps her hands, telling everyone it’s time to start doing the dishes, and your small intimate moment is broken and forgotten as Oscar springs to his feet. Already holding his hand out to help you up, no need for you to tell him this time.

The scene replaying in your mind as you’re going through the motions of washing up, it’s still fresh on your mind as Oscar is thanking the teacher for the great lesson. Even when he slides his hand into yours, and you walk out to his car.

He once again opens the door for you, helping you get into the car.

“Oh, before I forget.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts completely as a bouquet of the ugliest flowers you’ve ever seen is presented in front of you. Oscar smiles proudly at you, happy that he has taken you by surprise.

“I didn’t…” You trail off. The flowers are horrendous to look at, an absolute horror show in floral form. “They’re hideous.”

“Just like you asked.” He finally slips into the driver's seat, smiling at you, waiting patiently for a bit of praise, as you can’t seem to find the right words to describe the warm feelings inside of your heart.

“Thank you.” You settle on, “Thank you, Oscar. You did good… You are good.”

You look over at him, and the flowers in your hands are quickly abandoned and forgotten, when his face is right there. You place your hands gently on each of his cheeks. He leans in close to you, placing his own hand on your cheek. You close your eyes, as his lips finally meet yours.

The car falls away, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the taste of rich food lingering on your lips. His lips move against yours with a tender rhythm, a silent language conveying emotions that words have struggled to express.

His hand, warm against your cheek, sends a shiver down your spine, and you tighten your grip on his cheeks, deepening the kiss. The connection is familiar yet different, a blend of shared history and the uncharted territory of something new.

Time seems to stretch, the world narrowing down to the sensation of his lips, the warmth of his touch. It's a kiss that holds the weight of unspoken apologies and the promise of something more. At that moment, the complications and uncertainties fade into the background, leaving only the raw, honest emotion exchanged between two people on the precipice of change.

As the kiss finally breaks, you find yourself breathless, a silent understanding passing between you. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, the vulnerability mirrored in both your expressions. There's a question in his eyes, one that lingers in the air, waiting for acknowledgement.

The taste of the kiss lingers, the sweet aftertaste of a decision made, of boundaries crossed. It's a moment suspended in time, a threshold crossed, and you can't help but wonder where this unexpected journey with Oscar might lead.

"Wow," he breathes, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "That was..."

You finish his sentence with a soft smile. "Unexpected?"

He chuckles a sound that resonates with shared joy. "Yeah, unexpected. But good. Very, very good."

The shared laughter dispels any remaining tension, replaced by a newfound ease. As you sit there, still holding each other's gaze, you realise that the evening has become a turning point. The kitchen adventure, the banter, and now this shared kiss – it's a series of moments that have rewritten the script between you and Oscar.

The reality of the situation lingers in the air, but instead of feeling weighed down, you find a sense of lightness, a subtle shift in the atmosphere between you two. The kiss becomes a symbol, a bridge between the past and a future that holds the promise of understanding and growth.

With a contented smile, you break the silence. "Well, I guess we've officially moved past the 'friends' territory."

Oscar grins, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and anticipation. "Yeah, we have. And I'm looking forward to wherever this takes us."

Your worries about your supervisor and what it might mean for your job at Mercedes fade away as Oscar leans in again, capturing your lips once more. You can get used to this.

Oscar might be someone who only brings chaos and problems into your life, but you’re all too prepared to deal with that now. Willing to deal with it all, and happy to have him by your side as you do.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, shout out to @pucksandpower for making me not kill Oscar, and for them to actually end up together. Also my beta readers Fari and @thisismeracing for editing this.

#Oscar Piastri #Oscar Piastri x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 #op81 #Oscar piastri imagine #f1 fanfic #Oscar piastri x you #Oscar piastri fic #Oscar piastri fluff #f1 fandom #f1 fic #f1 x you #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fluff #delias own writing

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galazry · 7 months

Text

Sick Day

pairing: wanderer x gn!reader [established relationship] genre: modern au, fluff cw: wanderer is like an asian mom here words: 583 a/n: drabble based on this brainrot. had a headache and thought about how wanderer would take care of their sick s/o.

Your head has been throbbing for god knows how long. It seemed that the constant all-nighters you've pulled have finally brought your body down. Good thing you have your boyfriend to take care of you. As soon as he got the news that you were sick, he instantly appeared on your doorstep, ready to take care of you. A sweet act from someone like him. If only he could tone down the nagging...

"What did I tell you? Stop pulling all-nighters! But did you listen? Of course not! Now I'm stuck here, taking care of you."

"You know you don't have to... I can perfectly take care of myself..."

"Don't make me laugh, [Y/N]. Do you think I'm going to let a sick person take care of themself?! Just focus on getting better so you can quit bothering me!"

Wanderer nagged as his hand skillfully cuts an apple for you. Even if he was in the kitchen, you could hear his grumbles and nags loud and clear. In response, you let out a weak chuckle, not moving an inch from your bed. It was a relief that you've submitted your assignments, so that's one thing to worry less about. Though, you can't help feel bad for your boyfriend. After all, you were both supposed to go on your weekly date, but your body had other plans.

"Open your mouth."

"You know I can eat those by myself ri-"

"Just open your mouth, will you?!"

Your boyfriend holds out a piece of apple, waiting for you to do as he says. With a soft sigh, you opened your mouth for him to prevent anymore nags and grumbles from the man. The apple was sweet, not tart, just how you like it. Even though you were more than capable in doing so, it was nice to have someone to take care of you while you were sick.

"Thanks for taking care of me..."

"Hmph, you better be thankful. I can't believe I'm spending the weekend to take care of you. Now, quit talking and eat. After you've finished, go to sleep. I'll make you a bowl of porridge for dinner."

Even though his words seemed harsh, you knew that deep down, he was actually very worried about you. How did you know? Well, with a little decoding and with how he acted— Wanderer going out of his way to go to your place, him buying you all sorts of medicine (most of which you don't actually need...), buying you fruits and cutting them up— it was quite easy to see that he's very much worried about your well being. You, then, followed his say-so; eating the apples before going back to sleep. It didn't take long for your breath to steady itself as your chest rises and falls.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanderer, who had just finished washing the bowl, comes back to stay by your side. A worried expression, that he doesn't dare show in front of you, adorns his face. His hand caressed your head gently in a way that he's sure won't wake you up.

"Please take care of yourself better... I hate to see you get sick like this..."

The silence that surrounds him was unfamiliar. Wanderer had grown used to you being loud and full of vitality that seeing you bed-ridden, looking so weak and pale, hurts him more than he thought it would. He then leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Get well soon, my dear."

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gretavangroupie · 23 days

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Unwelcome Advances, Kissing.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

You absentmindedly swirl the skinny black straw around in your glass, scoffing to yourself as you wonder why the bartender put a stirrer into your Whiskey in the first place. It didn’t need to be stirred. You took it straight. It was fine on its own. Regardless, you sipped around the straw, letting the oaky liquor trickle down the back of your throat.

It wasn’t that you hated flying. It was more that you hated being alone with your thoughts for extended periods of time. Only your phone or a book to occupy your brain, but you knew that only worked for so long. Eventually you’d be left alone to tumble down into those dark, dusty memories that would torment you until you touched down in whatever city you were slated to be in that day.

You hear Josh’s voice, instinctively causing you to turn your head, watching as he and Daniel stand in front of the camera recording whatever video the social media team planned for the day. You gracefully bowed out of that process all together, the team knowing not to approach you about an idea unless they knew it was something you would agree to. Usually though, it wasn’t. You turn to look at Sam on your right, seeing his gaze fixed upon the two of them. Both of you were now watching them as they played along with the skit, a huff of secondhand embarrassment sizzling through you as you sip from your glass. You’d never be caught dead doing that.

Fools. How is anyone ever supposed to take us seriously if all we show them is this?

“You ready for another few months of this shit?” you mumble, your lips barely parting from the edge of your glass.

Sam snickers as he turns back to you. “No. But that’s the job isn’t it?” he answers, swallowing down a gulp of beer, turning to look at you.

“I’m hitting that wall, too.” you answer, meeting the eyes of his girlfriend, Lyla. She sends you a sympathetic look as she squeezes Sam’s arm, giving him the little bit of reassurance he needs. “S’been a shit few weeks.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, instead pursing his lips together and slowly nodding his head as he peers down into his empty glass. Everyone knows better than to indulge you in your misery at this point, vowing not to pick at the festering wound. It’s still fresh and you’re still too volatile.

“Well, we’re going to your happy place, right?” Lyla asks with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, yeah we are,” you answer, taking another long pull of Whiskey. It was clear she didn’t know the reason it made you happy in the first place was because of the memories you made there with the person no longer around.

You turn your head ready to fall into those memories you’ve been pushing away for weeks, but fate has other plans as you spot your production team walking towards the boarding gate. They look frantic as they talk to each other, their eyes flicking up and down from their phones in their hands. Paul, your band Manager leads the group, finally slipping his phone into his pocket as he spots the gate. Next to him is Corrine, the Production Manager talking on the phone, balancing it between her ear and shoulder as she follows Paul. Wes, the Tour Manager continues to talk to Paul as they step into the waiting area, but behind him is someone you don’t recognize.

She’s looking down at her phone, unaware that Wes has come to an abrupt stop in front of her. She runs into him just enough that it gets his attention, a profuse apology falling from her mouth. You laugh a little at the exchange, wondering who this girl is, and why she is with your team. She’s dressed like the rest of them, casual, but still comfortable for a day of travel. A slouchy white long sleeve shirt, a little too thin for the cold January weather, a brown leather backpack, worn and well loved, and a pair of olive green pants that hug her ass just a little too well for 10AM on a Thursday morning. You find yourself unable to pull your eyes away from her, a magnetizing feeling sucking you in the longer you look at her. She laughs with Wes, a bright smile lighting up her face causing an unwelcome twinge in your chest. It’s when she fully turns though, allowing you to see her whole face through the curtain of tousled waves, that you find yourself needing to know who she is.

You swallow nervously, licking your bottom lip as you turn to Sam. “Who uh, who’s that?” you ask, nodding towards the group. “With Paul, Wes, and Corri?”

Sam turns around in his barstool, looking across the busy walkway to the group standing at the gate. “Oh, um…” he pauses, assessing the situation. “She’s with Paul, so that must be our new runner.”

“What happened to Lucy?” you ask, letting your eyes drift back to the mystery girl.

“She got engaged and moved to Scotland or some shit, I don’t remember. Ask Josh,” he laughs.

You hum, trying to remember the email thread where Paul’s new assistant was approved. What was her name…

“You know her name?” Lyla asks, looking at Sam.

Yes, Lyla. Yes.

“Um, I think it’s….Y/N. Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” he answers confidently, snapping his fingers as he speaks.

“So she’s the new Lucy…” you hum, flipping your sunglasses down over your eyes.

“Guess so. We’ll see if she can hack it,” he laughs, sliding his card to the bartender.

You turn back to look at her, this time your eyes concealed. She is rocking back and forth on her feet, looking around as she hugs her arms across her chest. She seems nervous, pushing her hair behind her ears every few minutes. You’re positively taken by her, unable to peel your eyes away from her every move. You can’t help but study her, and you briefly wonder if it's the alcohol rushing through your brain that has you so focused on her.

The gate agents’ voice blaring through the intercom system snaps you from your thoughts, announcing that your flight was ready to begin boarding. You look to Sam, who is signing the check, and nod your head in silent agreement that you should head over. You toss back the rest of your Whiskey, letting out a sigh as it warms your chest. You grab your black leather backpack and sling it over your shoulders, straightening out your shirt before following Sam across the walkway to the gate. With your glasses still down, you step into the waiting area, watching people line up around you.

Josh, Ty, Mia, and Daniel appear behind you, startling you a bit as you fumble around in your pocket for your boarding pass. Their conversation is loud and grating, but you tune them out. You check your seat assignment as you move forward in the line, repeating it in your head over and over so you don’t forget it. You try not to pay attention to the pretty mystery girl five people ahead of you, but you just can’t seem to take your eyes off of her. You watch her disappear down the jet bridge as she talks to Paul, and before you can even register it, it’s your turn and the gate agent is scanning your ticket. She sends you on your way with a smile, and as you make the long walk to the plane you wonder if the girl in the green pants is going to make this tour just a little bit more interesting.

—

HER POV

3E. 3E. 3E.

Your eyes scan the row of numbers at the top of the cabin, finally catching sight of your assigned seat. You slide into the aisle seat, tossing your backpack to the floor as you let out a sigh of relief. You made it in one piece. You weren’t late, and everyone seemed to like you so far.

You take a look around you, admiring the plush seats and ample legroom. You’d never flown first class before. You felt a little out of place as you looked at the people around you. Thankfully it was filled with team members you knew, and the band members and their partners, but still you knew you didn’t belong up here. You kicked your bag beneath the seat in front of you, pulling your shirt sleeves over your hands before reaching up to adjust the air vents that were blowing far too hard. A small shiver left your body as you spun the vents closed, sitting back comfortably in your seat as you waited to see who your seat partner would be.

Your phone buzzed on your lap, a text from your best friend lighting up your screen.

Ruth

10:57am: How many hours is the flight again?

You smile as you quickly text back, running the numbers in your head.

You

10:58am: I don’t know, like 7 or 8 hours? You’ll be fine. Read a book or something. I’ll text you when I get there. But it will be late…or early? I think? There is a big time difference.

Ruth

10:59am: Ok, be careful.

You lock your phone and shove it under your leg, your eyes darting to the aisle as more people pass you on their way to their seats. You couldn’t believe your first leg of tour with them was taking you across Europe, allowing you to see places you’d only dreamed about. It wasn’t the job you were worried about, you could do that in your sleep. It was the uncertainty of being in another country with people you didn’t really know.

Getting to know the bands you worked for was a precarious thing. Always walking the thin line between friend and employee. You knew your place though, and you knew where that boundary lied. Your eyes refocus as someone stops in front of you, dropping their hands. As you look up you see Jake, one of the band members staring back at you.

“I’m…right there,” he says, gently pointing to the seat next to you.

“Oh, right here?” you ask, genuinely curious how you were seated next to a band member and not with a crew member.

“3F? That’s what this says…” he asks, checking his boarding pass. You nod and stand, letting him slide into the seat. He drops his leather backpack to the ground with a thud, letting out a sigh of relief, much in the same way you had.

You resettle in your own seat, buckling your seatbelt and pulling it tight across your lap. Your heart is still pounding as you try to calm your nerves, suddenly feeling put on the spot next to your boss. Or– your boss's boss. Shit.

You realize that you know practically nothing about this band, about its members, and really even much of their music beyond their hits. You planned to spend most of this flight acquainting yourself with them, learning their likes and dislikes before making a fool out of yourself in front of them in the green room. You don’t know if you should speak to him, and truthfully you’re a little hesitant since that day at the office, catching him and Josh in an argument.

You didn’t even know they would be there as you went in to sign your paperwork, but to your surprise they were, standing in the middle of the office playing around on instruments and talking. You made a beeline straight for the management office, mostly unseen, and quickly signed your paperwork. Paul went over some of the timelines and the things you would be responsible for as you took detailed notes on your phone, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Though, all of that came to a screeching halt as the sound of a chair skidding forcefully across the concrete floors pulled you both from your conversation. From your seat you watched through the small office door as two men moved towards each other, while two more intervened to break up whatever was about to happen.

You then learned from Paul that the two people that were arguing were the twins, Jake and Josh, and that the other two were their younger brother Sam, and their honorary brother Daniel. You observed in shock as the two of them shouted profanities at each other from either side of the piano, both red faced and worked up over something.

Paul quickly walked you out the front door with an apology and a laugh, and that was the last you saw of the band and its members, until today.

Out of the corner of your eye, you try to get a good look at him without him noticing. First impressions have always been a big deal to you, and since your first impression of him was nothing short of off-putting, you decide to try again. Give him the benefit of the doubt.

Worn-in black pants, cuffed at the ankle, a wrinkled beige button up that only conceals half his torso, a thick dark navy overcoat, and a stack of heavy silver necklaces. Oh, and blue-tinted sunglasses. His cologne… now that will be sticking around in your mind for a while. Clean, woodsy, a hint of musk but still kind of sweet.

You hear him clear his throat as he fidgets with his things, putting them all in their places as he finally settles into his seat. He reaches down into his black leather bag that appears to be well-loved, and pulls out a set of wired earbuds. They’re tangled and bunched, and you can’t help but smirk as you watch him try to untangle them. His fingers pull through the twisted white wires, and before you can offer your help, he reluctantly tosses them back down on top of his unzipped bag. “Fuck it,” you hear him mumble under his breath. He huffs again and leans back, tapping his fingers anxiously on his arm rests.

You let yourself drift back into your own thought as the plane takes off, going over the hundreds of miniscule things you know you’ll have to accomplish as soon as the plane lands. It’s quiet in first class, something you aren't used to with flying on the regular. The peacefulness that comes along with the drone of the plane and the light conversation between everyone is almost enough to help you relax a little, if not for the damned cool air still blowing through the vent above you.

You shiver a little, cuffing your hands over the ends of your shirt to pull it in more closely to your body. Why you had chosen to forgo a heavier jacket in the middle of winter, you truly don’t know. You decide to distract yourself a little, pulling up the string of endless emails that lie in waiting on your phone, getting a nice head-start on your duties before you have to hit the ground running.

Jake has been sitting beside you quietly for about an hour now, alternating scrolling his phone every few minutes and looking out his window. The cloud cover is heavy, so being able to see even a glimpse of the ocean below you is a lost cause. You listen as he sighs, crossing one of his legs over the other and folding his hands in his lap.

Should you strike up conversation? No, he probably doesn’t care to speak to you. But is it rude not to? You’ve already been sitting here for over an hour…

Just as you decide to open your mouth to speak, the plane hits turbulence. The cabin shakes and rumbles, and you can feel your stomach fall. Your hands grip the arm rests with white knuckles as the plane passes through, your eyes gripping shut as tightly as your palms on the arm rests.

Finally, after what feels like forever the plane evens out again, and you hear the pilot come over the intercom to apologize. You finally let the breath you were holding free from your lungs, and you open your eyes to see Jake with his head leaned low in front of you.

“You okay?” he asks, an eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just…don’t really enjoy this part much.” you admit, running your sweaty palms over your pants.

He sits back in his seat once he notices your calmness return. “Me neither, to be honest. No matter how many times you hit turbulence on a plane, you never get used to it. I don’t care what people say.” he says with a sweet smile. You can tell that he was coming down from an anxious episode just the same as you.

“No joke…” you agree, suddenly wanting a drink even if it was before noon. You push the tiny hairs away from your face as you regain a hold on your bearings, picking up right where you had left off before the turbulent air sent you into a spiral of doom. “I–I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before, my name’s–”

“Y/N.” he cut in, extending the tips of his fingers out to offer you a friendly handshake.

You let your hand slowly come up to meet his, suddenly uncaring that it was probably still clammy. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”

For the five seconds your bodies connect, and the even shorter few seconds that his honey brown eyes meet yours, you feel like you were worried for nothing. This guy is nice. Maybe he’ll be easier to talk to than you thought…

His hand disconnects and flies to his chest. “I’m Jake.”

You nod. Of course you already know his name. “Yeah, um…guitar. Right?”

He smiles harder this time. “Yup. That’s my forte, at least. Have you um, ever been to Europe?” He brushes his hand over his nose a few times as his eyes dart back and forth from the seat behind you and back to your face, unable to hold eye contact. Is he nervous?

You turn your body a little more toward him. “No, actually. This is my first time. But I hear good things…”

“Oh shit, you’re gonna love it. Especially this time of year. Things move pretty fast when we get there, but we always try to explore as much as possible. See some sights.” You can tell that he’s truly excited about this excursion, and to be completely honest, you found yourself wanting to hang on his every word.

“Anything in particular?” you press, wanting to hear the gritty rich sound of his voice again.

You let him talk on and on about the places he wants to see, and the places that they had already been, even bringing up a few older photos on his phone as he describes their past trips. You try not to look as he scrolls, but his camera roll is full of tons of scenic photos and videos, landscapes, mountains, waterfronts… and of course a few rogue photos of guitars and guitar parts. You wonder if he’s planning to make little vlogs.

“Italy is my favorite, I think. So much history there. I could’ve stayed for six months if they’d have let me.” Your shoulders are pressed up against each others’ now as you watch his thumb glide over the multitude of media, speeding through the less important ones to get to his favorites. Strange of him to trust a stranger this much to watch him scroll his personal camera roll. He obviously doesn’t have much to hide, even if this is crossing that boundary line…

“The people are great, the food is great, the wine, oh god, don’t get me started on the wine…” he chuckles, and you feel yourself bumping your shoulder against his a little as you laugh along with him. “The terroir is fuckin’ phenomenal, obviously. It’s like a different world.”

“I like a moscato every now and then.” You add, trying to throw in your two cents on your crumbs of wine knowledge.

He returns with a scrunched nose. “Hmm, a bit sweet for my taste…So, Y/N. What’s your story, how’d you end up with us?” he asks, switching to cross his other leg over, now.

You swallow, unsure of how to explain years’ worth of ups and downs you’d gone through to a rockstar. Your boss. You decide to keep it short and sweet, he didn’t need to know everything.

“Well, I spent my entire youth attending a small private school and private high school, so I came up quite the determined and disciplined kid. Kinda sheltered.” You turn again in your seat, tucking one leg up underneath you. “But, I ended up moving away from home and away from family, been in this business for almost, eh, six years now?” You go on, and he listens intently. “Guess you could say I’m a pro at making things happen out of thin air.” You give him a long wink as you snap your fingers together.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he finally gives you a hundred-watt smile. My god, he’s…

“A-ha, so you got all the good hookups, huh?” He asks, running his fingers over his chin as his cheeks turn the palest shade of pink.

“S’what the runner does, isn’t it?” You pull your eyes back down to your lap. “Get you everything you need, right when you need it?”

You bring your eyes back up to his and watch as he swallows hard, his mouth hanging open for just a split second before he catches himself. “Yeah, ehm, I suppose it is. We’re not too bossy, though. Josh can be, but.”

“So I’ve heard, he’s kind of a…diva?” You hadn’t done too much research on them, honestly. You hadn’t had the time. But, what few tiktoks and musics videos you had managed to see were fairly telling of their personalities.

“He is. He is.” Jake laughs. “Don't let him fool you, though. He’s a big softie with an attitude problem. We all kind of are, honestly.”

“You’re a softie?” You press with a teasing tone. “From the few videos I’ve seen of you playing guitar, you look a little intimidating…”

“Me? Intimidating?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Y/N. It’s dangerous…” he growls the last word, and you can feel your insides ripping themselves apart just at the sound of his voice. You have to pull back, now.

“All the runners we’ve ever had did extensive research on us before they came on tour, did you not do that?” he inquires, throwing you off a bit.

You don’t really know how to answer, so you tell the truth. “Honestly Jake, no, I didn’t. I’ve toured with a few other bands in my career, and I did that. I researched them, learned all things I thought I needed to know so I didn’t go in blind. And, this time around, I did a little bit, but I kind of wanted to meet you all for myself. Get my own versions of you.”

“Hm.” He responds with an understanding nod. “Well, you’ll be the first.”

“Speaking of,” you go on, candidly glancing around the cabin and deciding to go ahead and ask the question that’s been nagging you. “Everyone else is seated with someone, wonder why I’m not with the rest of the team.”

“What, you don’t wanna sit by me, Y/N?” he asks with a shred of a grin.

“No no, it’s not that.” you laugh. “Just—“

“Normally I have someone with me, but…we’ve recently…gone our separate ways, I suppose.” He trips over the words a little, stammering through them like it was the first time he’d admitted it.

“Oh… I see.” you pause, “That’s…never an easy thing.”

I wonder if that was why he was so snippy that day at the office when you saw him fall off his rocker?

“Eh, s’alright. Win some, lose some. We had a good run.” He says as he waves off the question. “So, you say you’ve been doing this awhile, you must really miss whoever you’re leaving at home.”

Skating around the question, aren’t you, Jake?

“No, I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.” You bite your lip as he doesn’t stop you from elaborating further. “I’m pretty independent, I like structure and uniformity. Growing up I wasn’t allowed much time on my own to have hobbies outside of school and practice. Strict parents. The job has kept me pretty adhered to that mindset, even in my personal life, so.”

His eyes flick to yours and he squints them a little, as if he’s collecting every single one of your words and hanging them in a closet in his mind. He’s trying his best to figure you out, you can see it on his face. But why? He shouldn’t care…you don’t matter.

“I can respect that.” He nods again. “My brothers and I, we grew up in a fairly religious household. Was great, don’t get me wrong. Really formed our roots but, as we got older and started to see the world, we kinda got away from it. Began to start seeing things in a different perspective.” He sucks his teeth, as if he’s recounting a hard memory. “Kinda why we moved to Nashville. We knew we had to break away if we wanted the band to be successful.”

You nod in understanding. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

His laugh fills the cabin as it bounces off the walls, a sweet chuckle that makes your heart rate pick up. You could listen to him laugh all day long.

“S’pose it did.”

“The fuck are you two over here laughing at, huh?” Suddenly Josh’s curls are squished between your seats, his cheeks pinched together as he speaks. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye but I can’t from all the babbling—”

Jake places his hand over entirety of his twin’s face, pressing him through and back into his own seat. “None of your business, fuck off.”

You laugh at their antics, knowing in the back of your mind that you had better get used to it. You feel the air kick on again, fiercely blowing the freezing cold air directly onto you. You shiver a little, balling yourself up and pulling your sleeves closely in toward you again.

“You want my jacket?” Jake asks, already starting to pull it from his shoulders.

“No! No no no, thank you, but I’m fine, really.” The last thing you need is that right off that bat. A bad look. Day one. Nope.

“Seriously, I run naturally hot. Take it.” He replies.

“Oh yeah? Hence all your layers?” You tease, repositioning in your seat.

“It’s a fashion statement, thank you very much.” He bites. “All about comfort for me.”

Gotta change the subject.

“So tell me something I should know about your brothers. Something that would give me brownie points if I wanted to say…impress them with my craft service skills…” you press, giving him a new challenge.

“Wow um, let’s see…” he brings his fingers to his chin and thinks hard, and you can’t help but feel endeared by the fact that he truly wants to help you out. “Josh stays away from chocolate and dairy and sweets and all that, but his guilty pleasure is those cotton candy flavored grapes. Weird, I know.”

“Oh my god, those are so nasty!” you laugh, but still take note.

“Danny would be over the moon if you surprised him with salsa verde Doritos, and Sam drinks kombucha more than the normal human should.” he finishes with a stern nod.

“Got it. I think I can make most of that happen, aside from the grapes…”

“He would kiss you right on the lips, I’m telling you.” Jake giggles again, and you notice how he lights up when he talks about them.

“So Josh is the dramatic softie, what about the other two?” you ask.

“Sam’s kinda serious but he’s playful when he wants to be. Sneaky, too. Daniel’s always into something, always busy. Man doesn’t like to sit still,” he concludes, and you commit it all.

“And what about you?” you ask, feeling your stomach flip for some reason.

“I thought you said you wanted to get your own versions of us,” he quipped back, parroting your words from earlier. Damn, you had said that.

You toss your hair behind your shoulder. “I did but…You’ll tell me all about them, but not about yourself?”

He crunches his lips together as his eyes scan your face. It makes you a little uncomfortable, how hard he’s really looking at you, but you let him. Stopping him would be a sin you weren’t ready to commit just yet.

“That’s right.”

The two of you drift off into silence again as the minutes tick by, thankfully not being embarrassingly interrupted by Josh anymore. You decide that you want to listen to some music, so you reach into the pocket of your bag and pull out your AirPods, slipping the left one in first followed by the right. You pull up your music and begin flipping through your playlists, searching for something to match the relaxed tone of the hour. Truly, you feel like you could easily drift off to sleep.

You find a nice quiet playlist and curl up in your seat, halfway reluctant you didn’t take Jake’s jacket, but also proud of yourself for saying no. You’re fucking freezing.

You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, ready to drift off into another world.

You’re jolted awake by turbulence, the plane shaking again as you wake up and get your bearings. “Shit,” you breathe as you sit up straighter, remembering exactly where you are. You notice that in your slumber, your head had fallen against Jake’s shoulder. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

The turbulence only lasts a few seconds before it evens out again, and the calmness returns to your body. You glance at Jake, seeing him looking a little drowsy and shaken, too.

“Jake, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, why didn’t you wake me? I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I kinda dozed off, too,” he replies, stretching his arms high above his head without a care…not like he didn’t just have a stranger asleep with her head on his shoulder.

You look down, noticing that in the time you had drifted off, Jake had covered you with his coat.

You panic, scrambling a little as you work to pull it from your body before anyone notices.

His hands are quickly on yours, stopping your action. “Leave it, Y/N. You were shivering in your sleep…you can’t tell me you aren’t cozy right now…” his voice is barely a whisper, and the warmth of his hands grazing overtop of yours, even for a second, is enough to give you a whole other type of chill.

“Yeah, I—I am warm…” you can’t deny that your body temperature has increased by at least a couple of degrees, and your fingers don’t feel like they’re going to get frostbite anymore. The jacket is heavy, heavier than it looks, and it smells like fresh pine needles and woodsy body soap. Just like…him?

“See?” he growls, backing away. “Just stay put.”

Stay put? You want to bite back with something that will put him in his place; you explicitly told him you didn’t want his jacket, and he covered you anyway. While you were unconscious. While you couldn’t turn down the offer.

…But you’re so warm, now. Your tense muscles are finally relaxing. The frigidity of the space has suddenly turned into a toasty furnace with a crackling fire.

Okay, but just until we land…

“What are you listening to?” Jake asks as he stretches again. You turn your phone for him to see, showing a generic playlist of Peaceful Sleep Songs lighting up your lock screen.

“Agh, no, what is that shit?” Jake snatches your phone from your hand, quickly flipping the screen to unlock with your face before he begins shuffling through your playlists.

“What are you doing?!” you yelp, reaching for your phone back. He raises his free hand to the air, stopping you from taking it.

“Aht aht… I’m finding you something better to listen to. Don’t worry about it.” You suddenly hear the quiet music in your ears switch to something else, something you knew for a fact you hadn’t ever heard before. You give it a second as he turns the volume up a few notches, and you realize that it is most definitely brand new to you.

It’s a solemn, tense-feeling piano beat, followed in by guitar. Lyrics only come in after a minute and a half or so. It sounds like growling, deep and hollow and a bit scary, but beautiful nonetheless. He’s watching your face as you experience it, quickly pressing pause as the song comes to a close.

“What was that?” you ask, realizing you had really enjoyed it.

“That was a song called Intro, by Alt-J. I know you’ve heard of Alt-J.” he says as he goes back to work on the phone.

You slowly shake your head from side to side. “Can’t say I have, actually.”

His jaw goes slack as his eyebrows raise in disbelief. “What? Like, never?”

You feel your cheeks turning pink at the thought of a literal rockstar calling you out on your lack of music knowledge.

“I don’t think so! That’s not what I normally listen to…don’t judge me,” you laugh, reaching for your phone again.

He swats your hand away. “Ohh no, little fledgling. You’re listening to this. This is the good shit…” he presses play again as a twinkling high-pitched voice comes through your ears. It’s just jumbled words, no backing music or tune. The acapella strikes you as strange at first, until the end when it changes tone a bit, and it’s almost as if the lyrics are giving you advice you didn’t ask for. Warning you of something new and exhilarating, or better yet, dangerous and foreboding. It almost feels as if a black cloud has overcome you, only for a split second, letting you feel the nonexistent pokes and pinches that come along with the emotion of worry.

The song flows directly into another now, one layered with a lot more sound, and it pulls you from that odd headspace the previous had put you in. You lean over the armrest, looking at the screen to see the title Tessellate. You’ve never heard anything like this kind of music before, and you wonder why Jake chose this particular artist.

“This is one of their more popular ones, like radio popular, but it’s still one of my favorites on this album. Here in a second you’ll hear it slow down—”

You stop him by pulling your right earbud out, shoving it in his hand. “Shh, you can talk me through the songs later. Let me listen.”

He shuts his mouth, giving you a sweet grin as he takes the bud, placing it in his own ear and pressing play again. You continue on through the album, each song something brand new to you, a genre you’d really never delved into but wish you had, now. It’s enthralling, different, and full of sounds that make your mind sway and swim through mixtures of color and gray.

You watch as Jake’s fingers tap along exactly with the beat of each song perfectly, down to a tee. The words don��t make much sense to you, and you can hardly distinguish what the singer is saying, but you know that Jake will give you a rundown of it all as soon as time allows him. You don’t know much about him, but his persistence is already apparent. You glance to see his eyelashes hitting his cheeks, his head barely bobbing side to side as he feels the music. You find yourself envious that he can draw inspiration and act on it, turning it into art of his own, whereas all you can do is sit back and listen to it.

Every couple of minutes he perks up from his meditation and adds new songs from their other albums onto the little playlist he’s started for you. You can’t quite make out what he’s titled it, but you can tell it's an emoji of some sort. His thumb flips and flies with precision across your screen as he scrolls and adds songs, and you have to admit, you’re a little excited to get your phone back and learn just what he’s creating for you. Especially for you.

You take a quick deep breath as you recenter yourself, catching your eyes drifting over his hand as he grips your phone. The veins in his hand roll over his knuckles, and you can just barely see the scuffed and calloused ends of his fingertips. Dial it the fuck back Y/N, remember the rules.

“Oooh, this is another one of my favorites,” he remarks, his mouth fairly close to your ear as he tries not to raise his voice over the volume of the music. He turns the screen a little so you can see the title, Taro. “You haven’t— You didn’t come to any of our shows last year by chance, did you?”

You feel a big pang of guilt shoot through your chest, remembering that you had actually been invited by some friends to see them way back when, but you’d turned the invitation down, not knowing who they even were at the time. You shake your head from side to side. “No, I didn’t.”

“This is one of the ones we play to the crowd before we go on. We all love it, it’s a sad, sad love tale based on true events. That’s the cool thing about this group, their lyrics are never really about what you think they are. They’re storytellers, a bit like Josh is, if you think about it. Their themes and over arcs are just…mind blowing sometimes.” Jake’s voice is a tiny murmur in your ear as your shoulders lean on one another’s again, still very taken with the music flowing through your ear. “We grab a lot of inspo from them, sonically and melodically…” You can feel his breath on your cheek, and you find yourself wondering what it would taste like…

“Here, read along with the lyrics. Try not to cry.” He hands your phone back, letting you keep up with the words floating down your screen. And he’s right, it’s heartbreaking without even knowing the context.

“Wow…That was really beautiful,” you choke, realizing the depth of the story of the song.

“Yep. Good shit, I told you.” He whips his hand around and takes the phone back as the next song comes in and warms your bones up again. You can feel the bare skin of his elbow brushing against yours, realizing that he was telling the truth about being naturally warm-bodied. Suddenly you don’t feel so bad about cuddling up under his coat.

He opens your contacts app and adds himself, placing the sword emoji beside his name. He smirks as he hands the phone back.

“Added your phone number, huh?” you ask rhetorically.

He sucks his teeth as he cracks his fingers. “Yep. How else will I let you know what I might need? Plus, never know when you might need to call me.”

—

You watch the signs overhead illuminate, a gentle tone ringing through the cabin as the Captain starts to make an announcement. You pause the song and pull your AirPod out, watching Jake do the same.

“Hey folks, this is your Captain speaking. Just want to let you know we will be landing in Hamburg shortly. I’d expect to be on the ground in the next ten minutes or so, putting us about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, so sit tight and we’ll have you on the ground in a few. Attendants please prepare for arrival.”

You turn to look at Jake, shrugging as you slide your AirPod back into the case. He raises his eyebrows and drops his jaw. “But we aren’t done! Wait! Hold on!”

He grabs your phone again, and from what you can see he is adding more songs to your playlist. You watch as he scrolls through various different albums by different artists, adding songs as quickly as he can. You smirk as you catch sight of the emoji he’s chosen, the chick icon, a playful nod at his earlier fledgling comment. He peeks over at you every few seconds, trying his best to hurry so you can pack up your things, but in a last effort you watch as he adds himself as a collaborator to the playlist.

You raise an eyebrow to him as he hands your phone back to you, shrugging with a soft laugh. You feel your insides swirl at the sight of his smile, and you turn your eyes to your phone scrolling through the songs on the playlist. You turn back to him and nod, a silent agreement that you will listen just as you feel the plane starting to land.

“I wanna keep adding songs for you to listen to, fledgling. If you want me to, of course…”

You nod. “Of course I do. School away, Jake,” you reply with an air of playful annoyance.

He chuckles. “I plan to.”

As you brace for the landing you grip your hands into the arm rests, letting go of the soft worn in corduroy fabric you’d been playing with for the last hour. Your eyes squint closed as the plane touches down, jolting everyone forward in their seats. Jake grabs his phone as the plane slows down, flashing his screen at you to show a local time of 12:13AM.

“I see some jet lag in our future,” you smile, sliding his jacket off of your arms. You fold it the best you can and hand it back to him, almost sad you have to give it back to him. “Thanks again for that.”

“Oh yeah, no problem.” He accepts it graciously from you, letting out a soft breath as he unfolds it and slides it back over his shoulders. It fits his personality well, soft and sturdy, worn in and weathered. He flips his hair out from beneath the collar, a barely there smell of peppermint passing through the air. You pull your gaze away from him just as you see his cheeks start to blush from your gaze. You lock your phone and stick it into your backpack at your feet, wondering how in such a short amount of time Jake has managed to infiltrate your thoughts so completely.

JAKE POV

As she turns to grab her bag you open your phone, tapping on the notification that she has added you to her playlist. You accept the invitation with a sly smile before sliding your phone back into your coat pocket. It smells like her now, soft and floral, very different than anything you were used to. Your mind was already circling with things you wanted to add to that playlist when you got a minute, finding it was harder than you thought to think of songs on the fly.

The first few rows begin to file out of the plane and you watch as Paul stands and turns to look at Y/N, motioning to her to meet up with him after she got off the plane. She nods her head and slides her backpack straps over her shoulders, waiting for her turn to stand.

“For jet lag…You know…Um, Benadryl,” you offer, your voice a little soft and unsure.

She turns to look at you, pinching her brows together in question.

“When you get to your room tonight, take a Benadryl. Should knock you out until the morning and help you get on a normal schedule. Works for me, at least.” you finish, nodding to her as the people in front of you stand to leave.

“Thanks, Jake.” She smiles and nods, sliding out of her seat to walk down the aisle.

You watch her as she walks up the jet bridge towards the gate, seeing Paul waiting for her in the doorway. The two walk together through the airport, finding it fairly quiet at this hour as most of the flights have landed for the night. You push your sunglasses down onto your nose just as you feel Josh walking up behind you.

He gives you a gentle nudge in the side to get your attention. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Easy flight,” you answer, still listening and catching bits and pieces of whatever Paul is saying to Y/N, prepping her for the hotel check in and details for the morning. She is typing notes on her phone as she walks, barely looking where she is going, clearly trusting Paul to look out for her more than she should.

You tune out Josh as he rambles on about the flight, Ty jumping in every few words with a retort or a laugh. Your eyes don’t seem to leave her though, watching her talk, watching her walk, shit, just watching her. You can’t seem to shake it. You’d never met anyone like her before. Someone you were so instantly taken with. You wanted to know every single detail about her.

You feel Josh’s hand as it comes up to your chin, pressing it upward and forcing your jaw shut. “There, you seemed to have dropped that.”

You turn to him angrily, knowing what he’s insinuating, giving him a hard elbow to the arm. “Fuck off, Josh.”

He laughs and pushes you with his shoulder, readjusting his backpack on his other shoulder. “Just an observation, that’s all. Can’t say I blame you, though.”

“Oh are you talking about Jake and Y/N?” Sam interjects, stepping up on your right side in a lanky stride.

Josh nods, laughing slightly, wanting to keep this banter going. Asshole.

“Can you two knock it off, fuck,” you growl, hoping she can’t hear them. Your eyes are locked in on her again, and much to your relief she is talking to Paul and can’t hear a word they’re saying.

“He didn’t shut up the entire flight. Lots of whispering and giggles from up there. I didn’t sleep at all. But I did hear his monologue about the genius of Alt-J for the fourth time this year.” Josh quips, earning a laugh from everyone around you.

“Fuck you again, Josh,” you spit, annoyed at his lack of respect.

“Damn, so you’re trying to scare her away, then?” Sam teases, giving you a sideways grin.

You shake your head and push past them forcefully as you step off the escalator into baggage claim, not wanting to engage in this conversation a second longer. Especially because you were afraid they might be right.

—

“Shit, not again,” Danny mumbles as you all approach the baggage claim area, immediately noticing a group of fans obviously waiting for your arrival. You take a deep, preparational breath as you can’t help but run into them on your path to the carousel.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you hear Josh complain as he puts on his faux-happy face. You all love meeting fans. Truly, watching their faces light up when they see you is something that is unparalleled. But coming off of a long flight and already feeling the effects of the time difference, starving, and ready for a drink usually puts all of you in a mood that is generally irked overall. But you always suck it up; this is the life you signed up for.

This time though, unlike most encounters with fans, is enough to make your general irritation quickly turn into intense aggravation. They swarm you, hugging and pulling and invading your spaces in an extremely unwelcome attempt at meeting each of you. You feel surrounded, and unable to get to your luggage in time before it rounds the carousel again. You keep your cool, just as you always do, curtly smiling and pulling away as your body instructs you to. You pause for quick photos as your eyes search the spinning luggage again. You see your brothers out of the corners of your eyes doing the same… quick ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet you’s’ as the crowd just seems to get bigger and bigger.

Just as your eyes finally fall on your suitcase, you hear a loud clack as you turn and notice someone has knocked Sam’s phone out of his hand. It lands face down on the tile floor, likely cracked and scuffed from the people crowding around you all. You watch as Sam’s face turns up in annoyance, his eyes closed as he composes himself.

“Okay, that’ll be enough!” You hear Dean, your security, bellow across the crowd. “Please step away, no more photos, no more photos…” Dean makes his way into the center of group, quickly dispersing them. You give Sam a quick look that says, ‘get your phone, let’s go’, and soon enough you’re rolling your suitcase through the middle of the crowded room.

You see Y/N in the crowd, finding her to be a little flustered from the encounters, but alright nonetheless. You lock eyes with her as she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’, and you nod her off with a look of, ‘Yeah, this happens all the time.’

Your team is surrounding you as you quickly walk through the hallway toward the exit, ready to hop into an unmarked van and zip away to your hotel. You’re still being followed as you make it through the back exit doors.

When you’re finally safe outside the pickup area, everyone breathes a sigh of relief. “Fuck, that was a bad one.” Danny says. “Sam, how's your phone?”

“It’s ok, just a little scuff in the corner but it’ll be fine,” he answers, scanning his eyes over it.

“Guys, keep your phones on, Wes will be texting you tomorrow with where we’re headed next. Get some sleep and something to eat.” Paul instructs as everyone loads their things into the vans. Y/N is standing nearby, and you can tell that she feels a little out of place as she awkwardly crosses one ankle over the other. You take a quick opportunity to knock your elbow into her side, feeling comfortable enough to do that now that you’d sat together so long on the plane, but she’s avoiding eye contact. You hope she doesn’t feel uncomfortable around you.

“Hey, thanks for letting me jam a little with you on the plane,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry if I overstepped any, but I really think you’ll like the music I added for you.”

Finally her composure opens a little. “No, no! You didn’t… overstep. I’m actually excited to hop in my big cozy hotel bed and listen again.” Her words make your stomach fall with nerves, but you quickly suppress it.

“Y/N, you ready?” you hear Wes ask her as he passes by, heading toward another van.

“Yep, all set!” she answers as she follows him through the dwindling group. She hops into another van, and you worry she’ll be staying at another hotel. For a second you think you won’t see her as much if she is. You climb inside the van and slam the door closed behind you, seeing the group of fans with their phones pressed to the windows of the airport. You plop back down into the middle seat beside Josh, and finally take a full breath of relief.

“Fuck! I swear to god if I’m getting sick again…” Josh says as he bangs his head against the headrest behind him. You scoot sideways on the van’s bench seat, staying as far away from him as you can.

“Are you serious?!” Danny says from the seat behind you. “You need a mythical medicine man or some shit.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, just feel a little congested. I’ll send Y/N out on her first mission for some meds after we get settled in the hotel.” Josh answers, and you keep yourself pressed against the van’s window, purposefully turning your back to him. Can’t have that again. You realize, though, that of course she’ll be in the same hotel as you, management always is.

The vision of a worried Y/N replays in your mind, seeing her face full of concern as the fans did all but ambush you earlier. You shake the thought, suddenly having a realization that, most likely, everyone else is having, too.

“I think we should amp up security,” you blurt. “No offense to Dean, but he’s only one guy. There are more than ten of us…” you’re met with a little bit of silence, so you press on. “Just while we’re over here, at least. We’re going to be separated a lot, and I think it would be a good idea if Dean wasn’t being pulled in all different directions.”

“Don’t you think we should have thought of that before we got over here, Jake?” Josh counters.

“I’ve actually been thinking it for a while. Today just…made me feel like it’s necessary, now,” you respond quietly. What could it hurt? You have the funds, and a few extra eyes on you and your team couldn’t be a bad thing.

You hear a collective sigh from your brothers, until Sam finally speaks. “Yeah, I kinda felt a little overwhelmed when I dropped my phone and it got kicked away from me. First world problems, I know, but—”

“But someone could have picked it up, and ran off with it. Gotten access to your private information. Stepped on it and shattered it. We’re probably just paranoid, but I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad idea…” you suggest.

“I like the idea.” Josh adds. “Wish we would have talked about it sooner, but I’m sure Paul could get something arranged for us. Those security companies are always looking for overseas gigs.”

“Daniel, you agree?” you ask, twisting your body to the backseat.

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he decides.

“Good. It’s settled, then. We’ll talk to Paul first thing in the morning,” you say, happy with your decision of bringing it up. All you can see is a memory of Y/N’s scared face replaying over and over in your mind, and you just can’t seem to shake it.

You quickly curse yourself, you’re in no headspace to be worrying about a woman right now. You’ve gotta keep your head on straight. Tour hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already letting a new girl give you butterflies. You audibly scoff at yourself as you lean your elbow on the window, looking out at the bustling streets outside. You throw your earbuds in, letting the tangle of cords just be what it is, and you pull your phone out to switch the volume up. Of course, Alt-J pops onto your screen the second you look at it, and you wonder if she’s already listening to them, too.

The city lights are twinkling through the light drizzle of rain, and you finally feel your bones starting to settle into tiredness. Though your mind is racing with excitement to play shows, you let yourself ignore the thoughts and relax into the music blessing your ears. Some room service and a down comforter is calling your name.

—--

HER POV

The shrill sound of your hotel room telephone wakes you from a half-sleep. What the hell? What time is it? You don’t remember falling asleep, but the loud TV and the lights still illuminating the room signify you must have accidentally dozed off.

“Hello?” you answer, realizing that no matter the time, duty calls.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Paul. Sorry if I woke you…”

“No, you’re fine. I’m awake,” you lie.

“Cool. Um, Josh was wondering if you’d run to the pharmacy down the street and pick up the meds I just texted you. He said he would go get them himself, but he’s doing a lung steaming treatment or… something. I dunno. But if you don’t care, here’s your first assignment! I know it’s late, but the pharmacy is apparently open all night.”

You glance at your watch and see that it’s already nearing 1:00AM. “Sure! I don’t care at all. Tell him I’ll have them to him ASAP.”

“Will do. Hey, turn your location on for me and Wes, okay? Be safe, thanks again,” Paul hangs up the phone before you can say goodbye, and within seconds you’re crawling out of bed and putting your pants back on. Your stomach growls as you realize you fell asleep without eating anything. You make a plan to make a quick trip to the pharmacy, deliver Josh his medicine, then go back out to find something to eat before you end up eating the bag of peanuts you stuffed in your bag on the plane.

You take a second to check your messages, finding you have three unread messages from Ruth. In the mess and confusion of the day, and the time difference, you’ve been thrown for a loop. You shoot her a quick few texts to let her know you’re alive and well, but you leave out the sweet little detail that you’d shared AirPods with the guitarist of the band you’re touring with. You’d get into that part later.

The walk to the pharmacy is short, thankfully, and you find the things Josh needs without much of an issue at all. The city is still fairly crowded with people at this hour, and you make sure to track your steps backward just the way you came to get back to the hotel. Your stomach rumbles again, and the smells coming from the various restaurants around you have your head spinning with hunger.

A few quiet knocks on Josh’s hotel room door bring him to answer it within seconds, and his warm composure instantly makes you feel welcome. “Y/N! Thank you so much, seriously. I need to knock this shit out before it gets any worse, and I think you just saved the day,’ he gushes as you see clouds of steam pouring out of his cracked bathroom door, and smell the sweet scent of herbal fragrances as they waft through your nose. “You have any trouble finding the place? Google said it was close by…”

“Anytime, Josh. And no, actually. It was right around the corner,” you answer, handing him the bag of meds.

“Good. Well I won’t bother you again, you heading to sleep?” he asks with a warm tone.

You bite the inside of your lip as your stomach screams at you again. “No, I passed a little pub on my walk, and it smelled amazing as I walked by. Think I’m gonna go have a drink and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Go feed yourself, love. Enjoy the city. We’ve got a long day tomorrow!”

“Will do, see you tomorrow!” you say as he closes the door.

“Thanks again! See ya!”

You make your way to the elevator and down to the bottom floor, digging your phone out of your pocket to check your location and make sure the pub is still going to be open at this hour. A quick search for Le Marmitone tells you the kitchen doesn’t close for another hour, so you pick up your pace and head straight for the pub.

The wind and rain have picked up a little bit, and you thank yourself for adding a few layers on before you left your hotel room earlier. The cold air bites at your cheeks as you meander through the people still out walking the streets, and the smell of the food drifting on the wind draws you straight back to the pub. Upon entering the double doors, you find that it is actually a nice restaurant with a bar.

You grab a seat at the corner of the bar, glancing to the coolers and shelves to see what your drink options are.

“Evening madame, here is a menu. Can I get you a beverage?” a man in a sport coat asks as he hands you the shiny white menu. His accent is thick, but you can understand him fairly easily.

“Hello. Could I have a whiskey soda and a water, please?” you ask as you remove your heavy jacket and hang it over the back of the stool. You look over the menu choices and decide on a bowl of soup and a sandwich, more of a lunch option, but a steaming hot bowl of soup sounds exactly like what you need right now.

There are a few people still scattered throughout the restaurant, most closing their tabs and leaving for the night. There are a few patrons still at the bar, stuck in conversations with one another or watching whatever game is playing on the big screen.

The bartender sets your drinks in front of you as you tell him your food order, and you pull out your phone to begin fishing through emails and making your daily checklists. The Whiskey drink is strong, but not too strong, and you let yourself enjoy the immediate warmth it sends coursing through your veins.

You fill your stomach up as far as it will allow you, and you decide that one more drink probably won’t hurt, as the place doesn’t close up for another hour. You’re enjoying yourself, basking in the calm before the storm that is going to hit promptly at 10AM tomorrow.

“‘Scuse me, sir. I’ll take one more drink and my check, please,” you alert the bartender. He nods and turns to concoct your drink and print your tab. When he returns, he plops a bright red maraschino cherry onto the top.

“Gentleman at the end of the bar says this one is on him, ma’am.” He places the white slip of paper in front of you as he removes your dishes, and disappears. Your eyes slowly drift to the left, landing on an older gentleman who had been lingering at the end of the bar since you’d gotten here. His friends have since left, leaving him to finish off a few more rounds by himself.

He smiles hard when you notice him, and slides off his stool, stumbling his way toward you. You feel your heart rate pick up as he approaches you, and you remember that you do have mace in your purse, should you need it, Ruth’s one request.

“Hello, lovely. Enjoy that drink on me this evening,” he slurs with a heavy accent. He sits down in the stool beside you, and suddenly you’d rather not have that second drink, after all. You glance at the drink, and back to him, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in his presence.

“Um, thank you, really. But I—I’ve actually got to go. It’s getting to be later than I thought…” you lie, pulling out some cash from your purse to pay the bill.

“Nonsense! Have the drink, beautiful. Tell me, where are you from? Your accent tells me it’s somewhere far away from here…” he presses, pushing the drink toward you. His hands are giant, and covered in dark hair. He has a beard of the same color that reaches almost down to his stomach, and you can smell the alcohol radiating from his breath.

“The States,” you say bluntly, avoiding eye contact with him as the bartender is nowhere to be found. You immediately kick yourself for not telling Dean where you had run off to, all by yourself. You know better than this.

“Obviously, sweetheart. But where?” he asks.

“Um, a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it,” you go on, beginning to pull your jacket on and leave the money on the bar top. Suddenly the man’s hand is on the back of the stool, holding it steady as you try to turn it.

“I’d like to hear all about it, love,” he growls, and you suddenly feel very intimidated. There is no one else around, no other patrons at the bar, you couldn’t feel the presence of another human or employee running about, and you contemplated making a run for it.

“I promise I’m not here to scare you, just talk. That’s all I’d like to do…” he goes on, backing his hand away from the chair as he notices your panic. Finally, the bartender makes his way back, but instead of taking your check, he continues cleaning and re-stocking for the night. You’re alone, and uncomfortable. Why did you do this to yourself?

Suddenly you remember that Jake put his number in your phone. You know you can’t get a hold of Dean at this hour, especially since you didn’t tell him you were going anywhere. You can’t make that bad of a first impression before your first day even really happens.

You quickly turn your attention to your phone, trying to figure out what to do, but then it hits you. You type in the name, taking a deep breath before sending Jake a risky text as a last ditch effort.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, hmm?” the man asks as you turn away from him to type as quickly as you can.

You

1:47AM: Jake, are you awake?

Your foot taps nervously on the floor, the man next to you doing everything in his power to corner you into this seat. A text bounces back after a minute, and you feel your shoulders relax just a touch.

Jake 🗡

1:49AM: How did you get this number?

You

1:50AM: You put it in my phone today on the plane. Are you busy?

Jake 🗡

1:51AM: Oh, hey. No, I’m just getting ready to go to bed, why what’s up? You okay?

You

1:52AM: No. I don’t think so. I hate to ask this, I know it’s late. Is there any way you could come meet me? I left to get something to eat and didn't tell anyone and this guy here has me cornered into my seat and I don't think he is gonna let me leave alone.

Jake 🗡

1:53AM: Share your location, I’m leaving now.

You

1:54AM: Thank you. I owe you.

“Did you hear me sweetheart? I said, are you expecting someone?” the man asks, a sly grin on his face as he leans closer to you.

You quickly glance back down at your phone, sharing your location with Jake and hoping he can find you. You lock your phone and put it in your purse, pretending you’re a lot less anxious than you actually are.

“Actually, yes, I am. My…boyfriend is on his way. He’ll be here in just a second.” you lie, doing your best to speak confidently. “I should probably step outside to meet him.”

“No, no, stay, you haven’t touched your drink,” he says, gesturing to the glass of alcohol. “I know a place down the street, stays open late, too.”

You feel your skin start to grow clammy, the man's intentions suddenly becoming very clear. Your heart is pounding as you try to talk your way out of the situation. You clear your throat, and just as you start to speak you see the front door of the restaurant open. Jake steps inside, looking side to side, his eyes quickly scanning the entirety of the restaurant until he locks eyes with you.

He nods to the host at the door as he walks toward you, wearing the same clothes from earlier but now his hair is a little messier. You know he got out of bed to do this.

You instantly stand from your seat as Jake steps up, reaching towards him as he settles himself between you and the man.

“Hey baby, you finally made it,” you coo, your pleading eyes locked on Jake’s as he wraps his arm around your shoulder in a welcoming hug. You can smell him, the cologne lingering on his coat. The same coat that was wrapped around you only hours ago.

He pulls away and drops his arms to his side as you turn to him. You stare at him just a second longer, hoping he can hear the words you are screaming in your mind. He blinks and turns to look at the man before letting his eyes flick back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, of course babe, sorry I was late,” he pauses, turning to face the drunk man beside him. “Who is this?”

You let out a small breath of relief as he silently agrees to play along with you. “Oh, he came over from the bar. He sent this drink over, but I just can’t drink it. I already had one and you know I work in the morning,” you answer, hoping he is understanding what you’re trying to say. “Do you want it?”

He looks so effortless standing there with a hand in his jacket pocket. He tilts his head and scrunches his nose just a bit before answering, “Ahh, nah…It looks like a watered down well pour and I just had one myself before I got here. I’m alright. We should probably get going though, we have an early day tomorrow and it’s fairly late already.”

Yes.

“Oh, you two are terrible liars. He isn’t your boyfriend, is he sweetheart?” the man asks, scoffing at Jake. “You should come with me, I can show you the city better than this fool.”

“That’s an awfully brazen assumption, sir, I must say.” Jake argues, pulling his hand from his coat pocket and grabbing yours. You suck in a harsh breath feeling his fingers lace with yours. Fake or not, there was definitely a new feeling swirling through your veins.

“Look at her, she’s flustered. This woman hasn’t ever been touched by you. It’s written all over her face.” he continues, looking Jake over.

“Your boyfriend, your husband, he isn’t any of those things. I don’t see a ring on your finger, and I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in this country, you my dear, are fair game.”

You want to snap back. The audacity is astounding. You start to step forward, ready to lay into him, but you feel Jake’s hand squeeze yours and you know he’s telling you to follow his lead this time.

“She is with me, sir,” Jake spits. “And it would be in your best interest to back off.”

“Oh, is that right?” the man counters, standing up from his seat, giving him a few good inches over Jake. Jake didn’t falter though. Of course he didn’t. He knew that didn’t matter.

“Kiss her, then. If she’s yours, kiss her,” he quips.

“Absolutely not, I don’t have to prove anything to you, and quite frankly sir, it’s none of your business,” Jake snaps, you can tell he’s starting to get mad, his hand gripping yours a little harder. “Let’s go, babe.”

You stand firm next to him, not letting your face show a single waiver of emotion as the man waits to see if you’ll crack. Jake starts to walk away pulling you behind him, but before you can move the man grabs your other arm, taking both of you by surprise.

“Stay, sugar. Let a real man take you home.”

Jake snaps his head around, hearing the words fall from the man's drunken mouth. For a minute you’re scared. You don’t know how Jake is going to react, his jaw is hard set and his nostrils flared in anger. You hear him curse under his breath as he shakes his head.

“You know what? Fuckin’ fine…” he challenges, looking at the man then to you, nodding just enough for you to notice.

Just as you feel the anxiety of what he is about to do bloom in your chest, he reads your body language, letting a sweet and quiet ‘S’okay’ slip from his lips.

Your eyes widen a little as you realize what’s about to happen, but take solace in the fact that he’s likely just as nervous as you are. He stops, pulling you in towards him as his hand grabs at your waist.

His fingers grip into your hairline as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your lips, hot and wet as your hands slide up his body to rest on his chest. You kiss him back, you’re trying to sell this as the real thing, but also partly because you just want to. You try not to think about that part too much as you let your tongue flick against his just for a second before pulling it back. You feel the vibration on your lips as the softest groan leaves his mouth just as he pulls away from you.

Your lips are wet with the taste of him and your chest is heaving as Jake rubs his lips together and clears his throat. He turns to the man who is standing there staring at the two of you, a bit of challenge in his tone as he speaks. “You good now?”

The man scoffs, mumbling a curse as he bats at the air between you. You feel yourself relax in Jake’s grip as the man turns to walk back to his original place at the bar. A quiet ‘fuck’ leaves Jake’s mouth as he turns his attention back to you, stepping back and releasing his grip on you.

His eyes search yours just as yours search his, both of you unsure what to say. Instead he looks over to the man again, nodding his head to him as he grabs your hand again and guides you towards the door.

“You okay?” he asks, opening the door and letting you walk out into the drizzle. You pull your jacket closed across your front, the cold air chilling your skin.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you– for that,” you murmur as he steps up next to you. He grabs your hand again, lacing his warm fingers with your cold ones, taking you by surprise.

“Oh, it’s okay now Jake, he isn’t following us,” you offer, looking over your shoulder to check. He doesn’t drop your hand though, in fact you feel his fingertips brush across your knuckles, sending a whole different kind of chill through your body.

“I know,” he answers, smiling shyly as he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re positive he can see the blush that has taken over your cheeks, your mouth suddenly dry, and your mind unable to form a response. You feel the butterflies swirling around in your stomach as you walk towards the hotel, the rain starting to taper off finally.

“You can trust me, you know,” he says, his voice sincere as he guides you around puddles.

“I barely know you, Jake,” you smile, bumping your shoulder into his.

“For now,” he answers, squeezing your hand in his.

He opens the door to the hotel lobby, the warm air instantly hitting you. Jake drops your hand, your fingertips brushing against his. You kind of miss it, in a way you definitely shouldn’t be.

“Thank you again, for doing all of that. I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I won’t make that mistake again,” you say, watching him press the button for the elevator. Your eyes linger on his lips, a little pink from the cold air outside.

“It was no problem, I promise. Stop apologizing,” he pauses, motioning for you to step into the elevator. “Let me walk you to your room, what floor?” he asks, his finger hovering over the buttons.

“Oh, no it’s really okay, you don’t have to do that. I promise I’m good now,” you stammer, watching his lips turn up in a huff of laughter.

“Y/N, what floor?”

“Nine,” you squeak, your eyes fixated on the dimple in his cheek. You feel your skin growing warm just from looking at him, you feel like you might burst into flames just at the thought of how his lips felt on yours. Did you imagine that whole encounter? No way all of that just happened.

“Me as well,” he says, pressing the button as the doors close.

The two of you ride up in silence, casting each other the occasional glance every few seconds. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you're positive you stopped breathing. The elevator chimes as it reaches the ninth floor, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound.

He smiles at you again as the doors open, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. “Your room number?”

“Um, I think I'm 924, all the way down,” you answer, your heart jumping in your chest.

He nods his head and puts a hand into his pocket. “Alright, I’m just up here in 915, but I’ll walk you down.”

“Jake you really don’t have to, you can just–”

He turns to you and laughs, shaking his head again. “Just let me.”

“Fine.” You huff a breath, pulling your own keycard from your purse. He walks only a step behind you, both hands in his pockets now as you step up to your door. You tap your key to the lock and hear it beep, signaling for you to enter. You turn to look at Jake, seeing a softness to his face you hadn’t noticed until now.

“Thank you, for…being such a gentleman,” you say playfully, smiling at him.

“My pleasure, Miss Y/N. There is some chivalry left in the world…” he answers, bringing his hand up to rub at his lips.

You start to enter your room, and hear him speak again, this time very quietly. “We’re not all bad.”

You turn around to see him shifting his weight still rubbing his fingers over his chin as if he expected you not to hear him.

“What?”

He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, clearly shocked you heard him. You can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Maybe you’ve spooked him.

He shakes his head with a smile, as if telling himself whatever he wanted to say was stupid. He pulls his phone and his keycard from his pocket and grips them in his hand. “Nothing, nothing, um, have a good evening. I will see you in the morning, I suppose.”

You nod once, giving him a sweet and appreciative smile, “See you in the morning.”

He lingers for just a moment, eyes locked on yours before flicking down to your lips. He catches himself and looks back at you before turning to head down the hallway. You shut the hotel room door and twist the lock, letting out the breath you had been holding with a gasp.

You spin around, letting your back press against the door as you sink down to the floor with a barely audible squeal. Holy. Shit. What the hell was that?

Pull yourself together Y/N.

You grab your purse and stand up, digging through it as fast as you can in search of your phone. You have no earthly idea what time it is in Nashville but you don’t care as you pull up your texts with Ruth, and begin furiously typing.

You

2:34AM: Without going into detail I definitely just kissed the guitarist 🫢

You toss your bag onto the chair and change into your pajamas, your blood still rushing around in your body as you try to calm your nervous system. A text bounces back, and you know it’s her.

Ruth

2:40AM: WITHOUT GOING INTO DETAIL???? KISSED? I just got to my desk!!!! I’m here. I’m sat. I’m listening. I want every single detail in a five paragraph essay with MLA formatting.

You

2:42AM: Lol it is 2:40 in the morning. I will call you tomorrow, which is really still today for you, but kinda tomorrow for me? I don’t know this is confusing but I will call you and give you the full run down because we also shared airpods on the plane and he made me a playlist? Love you goodnight!

Ruth

2:44AM: AIRPODS? A PLAYLIST??????

2:45AM: Y/N NO! GET BACK HERE

2:45AM: Okay. Hang on, I’m googling him. I need to see this man’s face

2:46AM: Wait there’s two guitarists

2:46AM: Ok one is the bassist HELLO?? You kissed HIM?! Aldjsfklsk

2:48AM: It’s totally fine and I am being so normal about this. Talk to you later, if I haven’t pulled all my hair out by then! I’ll be creeping his insta all day! Goodnight!

You laugh as you read her onslaught of messages, knowing that she is likely going out of her mind with possible scenarios. You make your way into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth so that you can positively melt into the bed and sleep until your alarm forces you awake. You’re patting your face dry as your phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, but the noise it makes isn’t one you’re familiar with. You hang the towel on the ring and pick up your phone, seeing a notification come through that is brand new to you.

‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

He what?

Now?

Your blood runs cold just seeing his name on your phone after…well…whatever that was.

You turn off the bathroom light, hesitantly sliding your finger across the notification, and letting it bring up the playlist. There at the very bottom you see that a new song was added two minutes ago. But not just any song, no. You know this one. You know this one well. You tap on the song hearing the familiar and haunting guitar riff of ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer start to play through your phone speakers.

You can’t help but to laugh, a smile of shock has your jaw hanging wide open as you stand in your giant fancy hotel room, listening to what you consider to be a fairly romantic song sent straight to you from none other than your knight in shining, well, corduroy, armor. You couldn’t even picture him listening to this song, and somehow that almost made it a little better.

As the chorus plays you fall backwards onto your bed, the fluffy white sheets enveloping you as a giddy feeling swirls through your chest. He’s thinking about me. He’s thinking about that kiss. You felt guilty for thinking about it, but now? Now you weren’t feeling so guilty. He liked it just as much as you did, clearly.

Jake Kiszka liked kissing you.

You.

What?

You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of your face if you had to. You didn’t want to. This was quite possibly the most thrilling thing that has happened to you in months. Years! You had all but forgotten about creepy bar man at this point, but god you have half a mind to walk right back into that bar and shake his hand.

But, you knew you had to calm down. Take a breath. The song came to a close, leaving the hotel room silent. Your mind was still swimming in bliss, replaying the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands held yours, the way he smelled, the way his lips tasted, oh god… He was thinking about your kiss. He all but told you so.

You were also thinking about that kiss. He wanted you to know he was thinking about it. How can you– Oh. A sly grin spreads across your face as you type into the search bar.

You find the song you’re looking for, your thumb hovering over the add button as you try to talk yourself out of doing this. It could end badly, terribly, really. He is technically your boss, and you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but. Hey, you’re just the runner. You smile as you watch the little box pop up reading ‘Added’.

Your heart starts to pound. Did he get a notification? Is he asleep? Did he see it? Will he understand? Since when did you start communicating with people through song titles?

You rush back to the playlist scrolling to the bottom and smiling as you press play on the new addition to your shared playlist. It's mere seconds before ‘Do It Again’ by Steely Dan starts to play and you laugh, knowing you are absolutely crazy. Do it again, of course you wanted to do it again. God he probably thinks you’re such a loser. Plot twist, you are, but he doesn't have to know that yet.

You listen to the song, plugging your phone into the charger and turning off the lamp. You’ve always loved Steely Dan, it reminds you of your dad, but then again who doesn’t it remind of their dad? The song comes to a close, your giddy feeling finally starting to wear off as the exhaustion starts to step into its place. Your eyes feel heavy as you roll towards the nightstand to set your alarm, groaning at how soon it’s coming. You lock your phone and settle into the pillows, letting out a content sigh as you recap the day in all of its insane glory.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the glow illuminating the room for just a brief second. You freeze as you stare up at the ceiling, almost too scared to look. Did he add another song? What if he changed his mind? What if you overstepped? Oh god. You should not have done that. What were you thinking?

You suck in a breath as you grab your phone, nervously tapping the screen that shows no new songs added, but a text from Jake.

Jake 🗡

3:04AM: I fully intend to.

Oh, he definitely saw it.

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asuyaka · 3 months

Text

Worst Gen. trio (+ Ace) with a transmasc reader!

★ - Absolutely frothin at the mouth ab Corazon n Law guys,,

☆ - Trafalgar D. Water Law, Eustass "Captain" Kidd, Monkey D. Luffy, and Portgas D. Ace x TM! Reader.

♡ - Reader has space-manipulation devil fruit powers! (❁´◡`❁) (only brought up like,, twice... oopsie!!)

— TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW.

Law is a doctor, so of course he knows what to do when it comes to his boyfriend!

Always reminds you ta take off your binder if he notices that you've had it on for too long, and makes sure you take your T-shots on time!

If you've already had top surgery, your scars are somethin he's absolutely smitten over.

Genuinely, when you two getting ready for bed he always prefers you with your shirt off because something about your scars (or your body in general) s'so attractive ta him ??

Bein a doctor, he's always available ta do any surgery you want him to, as long as he knows the safest way to do it so you don't get hurt!

Law sat at his desk, a cup of coffee next to a pile of books with a lamp close by to illuminate what he was reading. He grumbles slightly, rubbing his eyes and taking a sip of his coffee.

You walk out of the bathroom with one of Law's button-ups and shorts, lazily rubbing your eyes and walking up to where your boyfriend is.

"You're a doctor and still won't go to sleep early?" You mumble into his neck as your arms wrap around his shoulder. He takes a deep sigh and lets his book down, bringing his hands up to rub against your arms.

Before you know it you've switched places with the book he was reading, now on his desk with a slightly confused expression, slowly turning into one of worry when you're finally able to see your boyfriend's face.

His eye bags have gotten worse and his posture makes him look like he's a shrimp. "Law..." You mumble worrily. He interrupts you with a hug, burying his head right underneath your surgery scars (that he did for you).

With a sigh, you pull him closer and rub his hair gently, feeling all the stress leaving his body. Law has always been one to overwork himself and not know when to stop, especially before letting go of his ties to Doflamingo.

"Do you want me to ask the others to get you tea?" You ask tentatively, keeping your voice soft just in case he's close to falling asleep.

He just grumbles and squeezes you closer, his tattooed fingers drawing air images on your pecs. "...warm..."

Giggling at Law's words, you press a kiss on his head and wrap your legs around his torso. The two of you stay together in comfortable silence until you feel his hands slowly fall from your chest and his breathing even out.

With a tiny smile, you use your devil fruit abilities to gently move the two of you onto the bed, situating yourselves so you don't wake Law up.

As you place the blankets over your bodies, you hear Law mumble something about a person named 'Corazon' and how the person was meeting his boyfriend—you— for the first time.

You place a soft kiss on his forehead, letting out a small giggle as he instantly squeezes you closer and buries his face in your chest.

No one would've thought the 'Surgeon of Death' Trafalgar D. Law was a cuddle bug at night.

Except you, of course.

— EUSTASS "CAPTAIN" KIDD. | DISCLAIMER: mentions of periods/mainly about gettin your period unexpectedly 'round Kidd, might be triggers f'some transmascs !! ヾ(＠⌒︶⌒＠)ノ

He genuinely doesn't care/didn't know that you're trans,,?

Tha first time he saw you with a binder on/saw your top surgery scars he didn't think much of it, genuinely thought they were battle scars.

It was only when he told Killer about them that his first mate told him in the most deadpanned and serious tone that they weren't battle scars.

n'he's so confused like ??? what are they then ???

After Killer explains what those scars mean he just,, doesn't care ?? All he came up with was that they're still battle scars, just not the same kind of battle.

His view of you doesn't change in the slightest, in his eyes you're still his boyfriend just with added customizations.

"Bath's fuckin hot," Eustass grumbled behind you, his metal arm wrapped around your waist as the scent of marshmallows wafted through the bathroom.

You relax into Eustass' boobs chest with a content sigh, letting all the tension in your body wash away with the bath. Through your daze, you hear Eustass grumble about how he forgot to bring his nail polish close so he could do his nails while resting.

With small movements of your finger, the bottle drops on your boyfriend's head, causing him to wince. "Fuck you." He mutters under his breath as he splashes some water in your direction, narrowly avoiding your face. "Love you too, captain."

You're sure Eustass rolls his eyes at that, mumbling something about how insufferable you were as he no doubt made a metal structure to help paint his nails as his other hand was occupied with holding his boyfriend.

Either you blacked out or took a small nap because before you knew what was happening, Eustass was shaking you awake with slight anger in his eyes, though you can easily make it it's all a facade because that's how he looks when you're hurt during missions. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? You're fuckin bleeding everywhere."

Not all the way there yet, you look around trying to find the spot you're bleeding from because you don't remember getting any injuries that could cause bleeding to worry Eustass. He's gotten and seen his fair share of wounds anyway.

That's when you notice the blood is coming from between your legs, staining your previously relaxing shower with red. Embarrassment floods your mind as you shift away from him so the blood doesn't get everywhere.

""[Name]? You alright? If it hurts that bad I could call Killer or somethin—"

"No!" You say instinctively as your mind wracks to figure out a way to sort this out. "I'm okay, can you just... leave me alone for a few minutes?"

Eustass stares at you as if you've got two heads. "While you're bleedin' out? Just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help, yanno?"

Your lips stay shut as more wetness flows down your thigh. You've dated Eustass for a while now, it's just the first time you've openly had your period around him—which shouldn't have happened in the first place since it's two days early.

Kidd is a naturally perceptive person around you. He likes knowing what things to avoid and never bring up, and what things you could talk about for hours, so he's made sort of a guess as to what's happening, but he doesn't want to bring it up in case you were uncomfortable.

Either way, though, you looked as if you were going to explode even if he left, so he decided to take the gamble anyway. "Is it that thing where you're like,, shedding?"

You turn to stare at Eustass with a blank face. "...Shedding?"

"You know! Like the thing where like you're ready to get pregnant and shit— I don't fuckin know what it's called!" The man grumbles, trying his best to push aside his embarrassment to make sure you're okay. "Still, don't you gotta get cleaned up and shit? Not sure it's healthy to stay in a bath of your own blood."

"All the more reason you should leave, Eustass." You mumble under your breath, yelping slightly when he lifts you up and lets all the water drain out, turning on the shower to help you get clean. "Naw, think I'm good here. Wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if I left, would I?"

Realizing nothing you'd do or say was going to let him leave, you let him do whatever it was he needed to do that made him a 'good boyfriend'.

He took a shower with you, practically not letting you move a muscle until he was sure all the blood was off you. When you two were done, he tossed an extra big towel on your head before leaving to go get a few things from the kitchen.

You quickly got situated, putting on your clothes and other needed accessories before landing on Eustass' bed, hands over your tummy as pain surged from your lower half.

You hoped that sleep would get its grubby hands on you quickly so you wouldn't have to deal with it alone. As if it was mocking you, a harsher tingle worked its way up your body, eliciting a small whimper out of you.

A few minutes later, Eustass walks in with a cup of hot tea and other snacks. "Dunno what you wanted so I grabbed anythin'. You alright?"

You nod, even though you know you aren't; and by the look on your captain's face, he knows you're lying too. He doesn't pry though, only sets your body between his legs and your head on his chest, handing you the cup. "Careful, s'hot."

"Killer said I'm supposed to make sure you're well hydrated and shit, so you don't die."

You sip down the tea gingerly, stifling a giggle. "I'm not sure I'll die from cramps, Kidd."

"It's what he said! I don't know how this shit works." Eustass rolls his eyes and pulls you closer, using all the metal in his room to make a miniature version of himself and you for entertainment.

With a small content smile, you relax against your boyfriend, holding the arm he had on the lower half of your stomach. "I think whatever it is you're doing is working just fine, Kidd. Thank you."

His cheeks turn as red as his signature lipstick, rolling his eyes and trying to play it off. "Whatever, it's the least I could do for you. Even if you're annoying."

"Mhmm, I love you too Eustass."

— MONKEY D. LUFFY.

Almost like Eustass, but 10x worse.

If you wear a binder and he sees it, he's like "why do you have two shirts on ????"

And if you have surgery scars, he thinks it's the best thing ever that you two have matching (not really) torso scars!

When he asks Chopper why you suddenly get sick every month, the doctor looks at him with wide eyes,, he doesn't know ???

Chopper, just tells him to ask Robin, who tells him with a kind face to ask someone else.

Ends up asking the entire crew as his frown slowly gets deeper because why is everyone keeping a secret about you—his husband (you two aren't engaged at all)— from him ?!?!?

Demands Sanji to tell him after running around the Sunny for the tenth time, and he's just like... "Ohhhhh! Wait, why was everyone hiding that from me?????"

He just realizes you're like Yamato but the only difference s'that you two are dating!

The place smelled like a hospital, your brain foggy as you try to feel your surroundings.

Your eyes slowly open as you try to sit up—a stinging pain from your chest sending electricity through your body. "Oh, you're awake! Has everything settled down yet?" A voice asks from a chair nearby, though all you can make out from the shape is a comically large blue hat and a pair of antlers, right beside another comically large hat with black spots dotted around it.

Groggily, your eyes trail down to look at yourself, trying to find the source of the pain flowing through your body. That's when you see the bandages around your chest with tubes underneath them.

The realization hits you like a brick. Your surgery, the days spent stressing as the date got closer, the surgery. "Chopper? Is it— did the surgery go okay?"

The reindeer smiles and it feels contagious. Law stands up with a huff, throwing a mask in the bin and using his devil fruit to replace himself with Luffy.

Luffy looks a bit disoriented for a bit, relaxing when he realizes where he is. Then, he locks eyes with you and you think he cracked the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face. "[Name]!"

Before he gets the chance to throw his body at you, Chopper switches to Human Point to punch him in the head, quickly reverting back to look at you with serious eyes. "Yes, the surgery went well, but there are some things you can't do for a while."

You nod your head feverishly, gripping the sheets as you try not to squeal from excitement.

Chopper explains how you should avoid doing any strenuous activity, like fighting and training. Making an extra point to tell you not to let Luffy drag you into dangerous situations. He says that you still have to do mild exercising, i.e moving around and maybe going on slight jogs but nothing too over the top like Zoro's training.

Finally, he gives you and Luffy time alone; excusing himself to go talk with Law about some doctor-thing you couldn't give two shits about.

When the door clicks shut, Luffy sits in front of you— his expression blank but his eyes focused on the bandages around your chest. "This means you don't have to do the binding thing anymore, right?"

You nod.

"And, you're happy about it?"

You nod again.

Luffy stares at it for a bit longer, raising up a finger to poke it slightly. A small wince forces its way out of your mouth. The wounds were still fresh after all, it hurt like a bitch. Luffy apologizes with a small peck as his usual happy-go-lucky expression forms on his face. "Wanna know what I just thought of?"

You can't help the grin that forms on your face, cocking your head playfully. "What did you think of, Luffy?"

"We have matching scars now! Shishishishi!" Luffy smiles even wider (if that's possible) and grabs your hands to hold it against his. You notice that he isn't as hyper as he is normally, and in the back of your mind, a fondness spreads through you when you realize it's because of Chopper's warnings.

"You're still so pretty, you know?" Luffy whispers, as he cautiously climbs on top of your body, stating himself so he stays clear of your chest, as much as he wants to lie down and rest his head there.

A warm flush spreads across your face as your fingers comb through Luffy's hair. He shifts up and presses a quick peck on your lips, giggling as he does it again but on your cheek. "My husband is soo handsome!"

"Lu.." You trail on, giggling as you rest your hands on top of his. "We aren't even married—"

"Yet!" He interrupts sharply. "We aren't married yet! And when we do, we'll have a big wedding and invite everyone! Oh, oh, and we'll have Sanji cook meat! With a meat cake, and meat wedding rings, and meat desserts, and meat—"

You interrupt him with a kiss, running your hand through the back of his head as your fingers slightly brush against the straws of his hat. You pull away with a dopey grin on your face and Luffy stares back at you with one equally as dorky. "Just promise you'll marry me soon, okay, Luffy?"

"Shishishi, of course, I will!"

—PORTGAS D. ACE. | DISCLAIMER: mentions of period cramps and [NAME] thinking that period cramps doesn't make him a man anymore ! (>'-'<)

He's surprisingly quick to figure it out!

From the random getting "sick" moments every month, to the refusal to let him hug you from behind, he pieced everything together easily.

After all, he grew up around Izo and a very supporting crew!

The first person he asked about it was his pops. He didn't know if he was supposed ta tell you up front or let you tell him yourself!

Dunno what he thought was gunna happen, Whitebeard jus sent him off to Marco or fuckin Blackbeard. Whitebeard might be good at a buncha things, but anything romantic was not his strong suit.

After a bunch of nothing from Marco, and actual advice from Izo, he figured out how he'd do it.

Ace had his hat resting on his nape, yawning as he walked into the room he shared with his boyfriend. "Love? Are you in here?"

He notices the top of your head from under the covers but you're hunched up, curled into the sheets, and cuddling a pillow for dear life. Worrily, he climbs into the bed with you and holds your shoulder. "Love? Are you sick again?"

Meekly, you nod. Trying to keep your discomfort under wraps. Ace already had things to deal with trying to become 2nd Division Commander, he didn't need his boyfriend annoying him about cramps.

Not that Ace knew you were trans—or at least you hoped he didn't know. You don't even know if he would accept you. After all, men don't get period cramps.

You sniffle, trying to keep those thoughts out of your head, but you can't help it. What if Ace finds out and decides you're too disgusting to be near him? What if he doesn't think you're a real man? Would he be angry that you deceived him? That you made him live a lie for the past three years?

The thoughts don't feel like they're stopping now—it's already gone out of hand. What if he told Whitebeard and he decided to throw you overboard for making a lie out of his son?

Not that Whitebeard would ever call you that, you aren't even sure if you are a man.

"...Love, love can you look at me? You're hyperventilating right now, do I need to call Marco?"

You quickly shake your head, trying to stop the tears from flowing but everything feels like it's too much, or like you're overstimulated. The cramps hurt and your mind won't shut up about lying to Ace about three years, three years of hurt, love, and everything in between, wasted because you couldn't tell him something with your chest.

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry Ace!" You sob, instinctively curling into his warm chest and trying to stop being a crybaby. Ace has dealt with more serious things, having been the son of Gol D. Roger and struggling to find out if he deserves to live.

You being whiny over something that was entirely your fault wasn't something you wanted to bother him with, but it doesn't look like you have much of a choice. "What is it? C'mon love, deep breaths okay? Breathe with me, inhale..."

Your lungs expand as you take a deep breath in, following Ace's instructions. You try to focus on something else, the warmth of his body, how his hands are slightly dry from his devil fruit, the soft waves hitting the ship in a soft ambiance, anything to stop thinking of those unsavory thoughts.

When Ace notices you've calmed down, he places you in the middle of his legs, his hands resting on the lower half of your tummy as he rubs gently; the heat adds an extra layer of comfort, even if he wasn't aware of it. "Do you wanna talk about it, Love? We can just go to sleep and cuddle, if you want."

Ace is worried, obviously so. You rarely have breakdowns like that and a part of him thinks it's his fault. "I'm not a man..." He hears you coarsely whisper as your bloodshot eyes stare into the bedsheets.

"What do you mean, love?"

He watches you sniffle, trying to recollect yourself before you start speaking again. "I was, born a woman. And as much as I tell myself, real men don't get periods, they don't have breasts and they don't have—"

"But... you think of yourself as a man, do you not?" The man behind you asks softly as he spreads his fingers against your tummy.

A nod.

"Then that's what you are. No more of this 'real man' shit, if you say you're a man, then that's who you are. Izo's a man, and he had periods before... well, before doing whatever it was Marco did to him, but no one out and started calling him a girl anytime he did get them, right?"

You feel your chest start to tighten again, but you nod. Albeit shakily.

Ace intertwines one of your hands together, lifting you up so you're resting in his lap and pressing his cheek against yours. "Then why would I not love you, even if you were trans? I fell in love with you, because you're you. For fucks sake, you could be a cat and I'd still love you; but then I'd have to be a cat too so we could be cat boyfriends... Yeah, we'd definitely be boyfriends in every universe— imagine it!" He says excitedly as stars practically shine in his eyes.

"We could be um... birds, cats, dogs, the sun, and the moon! Ooo, we could be food too! Like salt and pepper, or—"

"You'd still... love me? No matter what I was?" You ask shyly, craning your neck so you could look him in the eyes.

He cocks his head. "Did you not just hear me say I'd love you even if you were a pepper shaker? Dummy, you've gotta get your hearing checked!" He presses a plethora of kisses on your cheek, only pulling away when you've been turned into a blushing and giggling mess.

"Yes, I'd love you no matter what you were. You'll be my boyfriend forever, you know? Never gettin' rid of me, love!"

You giggle, letting Ace continue his kiss attack on your face. "Like anyone could get rid of the infamous 'fire-fist Ace'."

He grins, one so bright it makes you remember why you fell in love with him in the first place. "Got that right! Now c'mon, let's cuddle and think about each other as cat boyfriends in our dreams, I've gotta fight Marco tomorrow to decide who's the better fire user!"

You shake your head. "Ace, love of my life, Marco is a phoenix, not a fire user."

"Ah, tomato, tomatoe, who cares!" He blows a raspberry, taking off his hat and placing it on the bedside table, not letting go of his hold on you once. He shifts the position so he's spooning you, his warm hand still on the spot your cramps hurt the most.

He presses a kiss to the back of your head. "Night, Love."

And before you can say goodnight back, Ace is already snoring asleep beside you.

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its-steddie-time · 10 months

Text

The day Steve finally breaks down is a day like any other.

It hits him in a strange way—deep inside his body, embedded. Like it’s always been there. He’s tired of running the race, legs finally ready to give out. Sadness wraps around him like a hug—it blankets him, presses into the smallest crevices, makes wounds and licks at them, uncovers the hurt below the surface.

It’s a normal day.

But he drops a glass while doing the dishes. He drops a glass, shattered pieces all over the floor, tiny shards. Clear and sharp, like a truth finally realized. It isn’t just any glass either, it’s something he’s had since childhood. A pint glass with brightly colored citrus fruits painted on the outside—right there in his hand, safe—until it wasn’t. Until it slipped.

And out of all the things he’s ever experienced—all the moments that have scared him practically to death or the arguments that have left him bloody or the loves lost and battles barely won and people who have left—the stupid glass is what gets him.

His eyes fill with tears he doesn’t know what to do with. Usually he stops them from falling out of sheer willpower, but this time they pour down his freckled cheeks. This time, his body joins him in the falling apart. He feels it all roll through him, and he cries. He cries hard. Right in the middle of his kitchen, right in the middle of the glass he should probably clean, right in the middle of a perfectly normal day.

He’s crying for everything and everyone. He’s crying for his younger self, he’s crying for the man he’s become.

Now he’s angry.

His breath quickens and he picks up another glass, hurling it to the ground on purpose. He picks up another, and throws it at the wall this time, glass flying everywhere. He pauses, leaning heavily into the counter, the sobs rippling through him like seismic waves—aftershocks of moments passed.

At some point, another figure joins him in the room. He doesn’t notice at first, his eyes screwed shut, cries still rippling through him.

Just as he’s about to smash another glass, he’s stopped by a hand wrapping firmly around his wrist. It’s Eddie.

He takes glass from Steve’s hand and sets it down on the counter. Steve’s still crying, embarrassment now mixing in with the anger and sadness. He should have remembered that Eddie was staying here—all those years alone in his house, he isn’t used to having company. Not like this.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just sweeps up the glass, stopping to gingerly pick a few shards out of Steve’s hair and off his shirt. Steve is frozen to the spot. He doesn’t know how long he stands there. When Eddie’s done, he leads Steve over to the couch, sits down and pats the spot next to him.

Steve sinks into the cushions, finally looking him in the eyes.

“Eddie, I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he stammers, voice hoarse from crying.

Eddie shakes his head reassuringly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“There’s nothing wrong with you Steve,” he whispers, eyes wide and full of compassion.

Steve’s chest tightens and he looks away, closing his eyes again.

“No. It’s stupid. It’s just a glass. There’s nothing to cry about.” He tries to put confidence behind his words but they come out shaky.

He feels Eddie’s hand move from his shoulder to cup his jaw, tilting his head so Steve is facing Eddie once again. He opens his eyes, tears sticking to his lashes. Even blurry, Eddie is beautiful. It’s not a new thought, but it’s one he thought he filed away—pushed to the back of his mind, something secret.

Eddie leans in until his forehead is pressed against Steve’s and murmurs, “There’s so much to cry about. It’s your turn, Stevie.”

So Steve cries.

He cries until he can’t anymore—until he’s lying on top of Eddie, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt, breathing along with the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest. Steve feels wrapped up in emotion again, but it’s something else this time. Eddie’s holding him and it hurts in a different way.

It hurts like sore muscles, like what he imagines tattoos and piercings to feel like, like laughing so hard his stomach aches, like the way his lips and tongue burn from spicy food.

He doesn’t know what that means yet, but he wonders if Eddie can sense it too. He wonders if Eddie’s scars feel the same as his. He wonders if Eddie’s cheeks turn red when he cries. He wonders how it would feel to press his lips to Eddie’s—lick past the salt of his own tears, slide their tongues together, and kiss him until their mouths taste the same.

He knows it’s not the time. Not yet. But maybe soon.

Steve let himself unravel, and the world didn’t end. Steve let himself shatter, and Eddie was there to help gather the pieces.

He’s always known he can keep himself together. He’s always known he was strong enough, independent enough, brave enough to make it on his own—but for once, it’s nice to know he doesn’t have to.

It’s nice to know he doesn’t want to.

taglist (please feel free to message me or comment if you’d like to be added or removed): @crying-trashcan @littlewildflowerkitten @goodolefashionedloverboi @currently-steddiebrainrot @oaklikethetrees @finalmoondragon @stonersteddie8666 @irregular-child @infinite-orangepeel @justforthedead89 @starry-eyedlune @meccaminayah @anaibis @gothwifehotchner @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mx-jinxous @freyaforestafay @shotgunhallelujah @subversivecynic @daisyellsong @presidentmaria @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steddie drabble #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington deserves to break down!!!!!#let that boy cry!

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jobean12-blog · 6 months

Text

Bat, Please!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word Count: 1,992

Summary: You want something and Eddie does it best to make it happen!

Author's Note: I couldn't have a proper Kinktober celebration without adding some Eddie and although this is mostly soft and fun I just love him so! Thank you bunches to @blackwidownat2814 my lovely Nat for sharing some super fun Eddie coded tik toks that always help to inspire. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @wannabehamlet thank you sweets! 🥰

Warnings: cute and fun fluff, softness, some sp-ic-y fun

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

“Eddie?”

You continue to comb your fingers through his curls, separating them and fixing them as you go.

“Hm?” he answers sleepily.

“I want to get a bat.”

As you wait for his response you warm some product between your hands.

“Well?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything.

Just when you reach for his curls again he turns his head and looks at you with big brown eyes.

“A bat?” he asks. “Like a fuzzy bat or a baseball bat…cause these are two very different things. I’m sure Steve has a bat we can use but a fuzzy flying bat is a whole….”

He trails off and makes wild gestures with his hands, flapping them this way and that and making weird bat sounds.

“One of those,” you giggle and then turn his head back around so you can smooth the product into his hair.

“A bat,” he repeats.

“Yeah. A fuzzy, flying, fruit eating, hanging upside down cute as hell bat.”

After his hair is properly styled for his show tonight he leaps to his feet and leans over you as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Where are we getting this bat?” he asks.

You shrug and slide backwards to give him room. He sits cross legged in front of you and stares.

“Look,” you start and grab the book lying on the bed.

“What is that?”

“A book,” you deadpan.

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head.

You smile and roll your eyes. “I got it at the library yesterday. LOOK HOW CUTE!”

You flip open to a page with a picture of a flying fox bat and point, sticking it in his face.

“EDDIE LOOK!” you squeal again.

He looks from you to the picture and back to you.

“It’s SO CUTE!” he screeches.

“I KNOWWWWWW!”

You scoot closer to him and he uncrosses his legs, spreading them so you can sit between them. His arms wrap around your waist and he takes the book from your hands, laying it on your lap so he can flip through it.

“What kind is this?” he asks when you get to a picture of a large bat with a huge wing span.

“The giant golden-crowned flying fox,” you read. “the largest bat in the world with a wing span up to five feet!”

“Jesus Christ,” he says. “I think maybe the little guys are better.”

“IS THAT A YES!??!”

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs as his head dips to your neck. “We can’t really get a bat.”

His kiss momentarily distracts you but when his words sink in you turn in his arms and give him a sad look.

“Oh come on angel, don’t do that!” he whines. “I hate when you’re sad.”

“But, but…look.” Your words are quiet and soft as you hold up another picture of one of the smaller bats. A fruit bat eating a mango.

“Little fuckers really are adorable,” he muses. “But I’m pretty sure we don’t have those kind of bats here in Hawkins.”

“Maybe we can rescue one?”

He studies you for a moment, several emotions contorting his features as he clearly tries to think of a way to make this happen for you.

You sigh and slump into his body, leaning your head along his shoulder and taking one of his curls to twirl around your finger.

“I’ll dress up as a bat for Halloween,” he offers with a sweet smile.

Your eyes light up at the thought of it but you quickly remind him you already have your costumes ready.

“I’ll figure something out,” he promises.

You snuggle closer and nuzzle his neck. “Do you want me to do your eyeliner for tonight?”

“Sure sweetheart, thanks.”

“Ok, lemme just get changed first so I’m ready to go.”

He reluctantly releases you and falls flat on your bed, spreading out like a star fish.

After you’re changed you find him in the same position, eyes closed and his breathing steady with his curls spread out wildly on the pillow.

“Eddie?” you say softly as you sit on the bed.

He stirs and blinks open an eye.

“Hmm must have fallen asleep,” he mumbles as he starts to sit up.

He rubs his hand over his face and gives his cheek a soft slap to wake up and once he is fully present he looks you over, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he sees your outfit.

“Good heavens!” he squeaks when his eyes drop to your chest.

You snort laugh and give him a look.

“Are you for real right now?” you ask.

His eyes stay glued to your cleavage and he licks his lips. “Are you for real right now?”

“You don’t like my shirt?”

You run your fingers lightly across your collarbone and arch your back.

“Angel…come on, I mean…you can’t go out like that.”

He grabs one of his girls and starts to mindlessly chew on it, still staring.

“What does that mean?” you fire back.

“It means! My dick is already hard and I haven’t even touched you yet. You expect me to sing and play guitar while staring at those?!?!?!”

You smirk and climb into his lap, straddling his waist.

“Oh,” you breathe out when you feel him beneath you.

“Yeah,” he hums, lifting his fingers and wiggling them in anticipation.

He traces the swell of your breasts with his calloused fingertips. “Fuck,” he hisses.

“I have to do your liner,” you whisper.

“Ok.” He audibly swallows and tries to focus on your face.

You grab the pen. “Close your eyes.”

His gaze drops again and you give him a pointed look.

“Eddie,” you scold. “Close ‘em.”

He sighs dramatically and closes his eyes. You start to apply the liner but his hands start to wander, feeling around the air to make a grab.

“If you don’t behave I’m going to either poke your eye out or stab you with his eye liner pencil.”

He concedes with another intense huff and drops his hands to the bed, curling his fingers into the soft comforter.

After you line the bottom you check your work and give him a thumbs up.

“Hot,” you state.

Without warning he takes the liner from between your fingers and then grabs you, flipping you onto your back and settling his weight on top of you.

His lips hover just above yours as his fingertips dance along your stomach and his curls tickle your skin.

“We’re gonna be late Eddie.”

“But, but….but!”

With a rock of his hips he grazes his knuckles along your skin, his rings teasing every inch he touches.

“You need time to set up…”

Your eyes start to flutter closed.

“But…” he whispers against your lips.

“Look we both want things we can’t have right now,” you sigh as you press your hands to his chest.

“What?” he asks, clearly confused and still staring at your boobs.

“I want a bat and you want boobs.”

“Just your boobs.”

“Of course,” you acknowledge.

“And I kinda want a bat too,” he adds.

“I’ll throw your flannel on for now.”

“I didn’t say to do that,” he whines.

“Ok then I won’t but let’s go! We’re going to be late.”

You slide off the bed and grab your shoes, bending down to put them on. His muttered curses draw your attention and you catch him staring again.

Before you can respond he grabs his flannel and throws it in your direction. “Just put it on so I don’t have to go on stage with a boner.”

“Fine,” you say and blow him a kiss. “But I can’t promise I’ll leave it on the whole time.”

“Fine,” he shoots back. “And I can’t promise I won’t take you to the back room and fuck your brains out after the show.”

“Fine!”

“That was amazing!” you yell, still hyped up from Eddie and Corroded Coffin’s music.

“You know what’s amazing sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs as he drags you back stage. “You.”

“Eddie,” you giggle.

His lips on yours silence any other words and when he kicks the door of the back room shut and presses you against it you grab for his vest and start to tug it off his shoulders.

He pulls away and you chase his lips, whining out his name.

“Nuh uh angel,” he smirks.

He gathers your wrists between his fingers and slowly lifts your arms over your head, pressing your hands to the door.

“Eddie,” you gasp.

He runs his nose along the length of your neck, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear when he whispers, “I’m going to worship you.”

By the time you get home the early morning sun is brightening the horizon in soft hues of pink and orange.

You and Eddie collapse into bed and fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and bare skin. It isn’t until you start to feel a slight chill that you shift and search for the blanket, only to find the other half of the bed empty.

“Eddie?” you mumble as you crack open an eye.

His leather jacket is missing from the floor and his keys aren’t on the dresser.

You search for a note, spotting a small, ripped piece of paper sitting under a die on his pillow.

“Ran out for a minute angel, be back soon. Stay in bed xoxo <3.”

With a smile you press the paper to your chest and curl back up, pulling the covers tightly around you.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, lightly shaking your shoulder.

You stir and whine out something incoherent but he catches his name and it makes him laugh.

“I have something for you…Sweetheart.”

He removes his shoes and takes off his jacket then slides into bed and starts to place soft kisses along your bare shoulder.

Your lips turn up in a smile and you whisper, “you’re back.”

“And I have a surprise for you!”

You lift your head and rest it on your elbow, blinking several times before focusing on Eddie and his excited smile.

“Ready???”

“YES EDDIE WHAT IS IT!” you squeal, now fully awake. “SHOW MEEEEEEEE!”

He keeps the surprise behind his back even as you grab at him and plead, until finally he kisses you.

Once you’re breathless and melting into the bed he stops and slowly reveals what he’s been hiding.

It’s small but not too small and black and soft and has sparkly wings and little fangs and big round eyes and It’s perfect.

“You got me a bat,” you say softly and take it from his hands. “He’s so ridiculously cute and perfect.”

You smush the stuffed bat to your chest and squeeze it hard before launching yourself at Eddie.

He catches you in his arms and lays you back down, curling you into his chest and covering you all with the blanket.

“I know he isn’t a real bat…”

“He’s just the cutest. Where did you find him?” you ask.

“I went to Starcourt this morning.”

You go still in his embrace and your eyes get wide.

“You went…to the mall?!?”

“Yeah…and it wasn’t that bad…I guess. I went. I saw. I conquered!”

He waggles his eyebrows and you let out a peel of laughter before your expression softens and you snuggle closer.

“You really are the best; you know that Eddie.”

“Anything to make you happy angel,” he coos. “What are you gonna name him?”

“Well my first thought was Eddie of course but then I thought…Dio?”

His eyes light up. “DIO!” he shouts, taking the bat and looking him over. “He looks like a Dio.”

“He does right?” you reflect. “What about Dio Edward Munson?”

“Edward huh?” he smirks.

“Yeah. He’s a distinguished bat,” you state proudly.

“Well, it’s official. Welcome to the family Dio Edward Munson.”

Eddie kisses the top of Dio’s head then slides his thumb across your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss of your own.

@buckysdollforlife @goldylions @hiddles-rose

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things #kinktober 2023

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redbleedingrose · 5 months

Note

This idea popped into my head while making my coffee this morning. How do the batboys like their coffee? Do they like the specialty drinks or just a good cup of coffee?

I could honestly go both ways. Like some morning I just want a cup of coffee with some cream and sugar but some days I want a specialty drink that will give you a cavity by just looking at it lol

OH MY GOD!!! I LOVE THIS!!!

Coffee/Latte Orders of the Bat Boys and Vanserra Bros

Rhysand

I think it depends on the day but Rhys gives me Cold Brew vibes. He needs the espresso for sure with all his high lord activities! But he absolutely adds oat milk to it, because he does not want plain black coffee.

I don't think he likes the actual flavor of the cold brew, he def drinks it in the morning because he needs it to function, but later he would drink homemade caramel cappuccino.

And I think he wakes before you, so he will make you a cappuccino as well. He always sits himself at the edge of the bed, watching you sleep peacefully for a couple of minutes while sipping on his cappuccino, thinking about all the things he is grateful for, before leaning down to brush your hair out of your face and pepper kisses all over your face.

Once you wake up, and you give him his "proper kiss," he will leave you to continue his work, your piping cappuccino set on your beside table for when you're ready to start your day.

Cassian

Cass does not give me a cuppa joe kinda male. He likes his water and fruit juices and smoothies.

He drinks water throughout the day, especially because of the amount of training he does. He has one of those huge water bottles that has all the water he is supposed to drink in a day, and he carries it around religiously.

He def gets one for you and will check in on you throughout the day and remind you to drink your water, especially if you are behind on your water intake. He is the kind of male to make it into a contest between you two, just to make sure your competitive ass gets enough water.

He also appreciates putting strawberries, lemons, cucumbers, pineapples in his water so that the fruit can infuse its vitamins into the water.

And the smoothies are his morning meal. He adds protein powder, fruits, and greens into these and he loves them. He feels super refreshed by them, and will try to convince you (and his brothers) to give them a try, and they turn out to be pretty good when he makes them. If you attempt to make them, they kinda taste like grass in water.

Azriel

Az screams black coffee. He drinks his coffee hot, plain and simple. He uses this dark roast blend that is very traditional to the Illyrian mountains. His mother used to drink coffee like that, and I think it would remind him of her, and thus, he drinks his coffee black. He is proud of it too, smh.

I think it helps him poop, poor male is chronically constipated from stress

When he meets you, he teases you for adding milk and sugar to your coffee, but once he gets a taste of your coffee, he may or may not sneak in a sip or two from your mug when you aren't looking.

You both like to start off your days sitting on the balcony, steaming cups in hand with Az's wing wrapped around you to keep you warm, and you watch the sunrise together.

It tends to be really quiet in the morning hour, and it is a special time for you and Az to kinda soak in the peace and allow for your mating bond to glow as the bright as sun.

Lucien

Luc is for sure an oat milk chai latte girly pop.

He also appreciates a matcha latte here and there. I think he likes the earthy flavor, so if he is not feeling chai (which is very rare), he will go for the matcha. If he is feeling extra spicy, he will drink it iced.

I think the spice of the chai latte really brings him back to all the good times in his childhood, when Eris would sneak little five year old Luc some caffeine through the chai.

I think if Luc were to drink coffee, it would be a caramel apple flavoring that comes around only during the fall seasons in Day Court.

I feel like Lucien would be the kind of male who wants to support small businesses, so he would go to different cafes throughout the court to try their chai lattes and would bring you home a fresh pastry and warm coffee. It's especially fun for him when you wake up early and join him.

Eris

Er's coffee order is interesting and complex, just like the male himself.

He likes to drink Autumn-spiced mocha lattes. It is an espresso with steamed goat milk, chocolate, cinnamon, and other spices. It actually is incredible, and he gets it every morning with a warm almond croissant for breakfast.

He likes his goat milk. I don't know why, but he does. Fucking sexy ass weirdo

Later in the day, he will have a honey cream latte which is an espresso with steamed goat milk and honey. His afternoon drink is not because he needs the energy, but I think he likes to have a warm drink in between lunch and dinner.

You usually join him in the office, warm latte in hand with your own drink, and you sit together on his green velvet couch, his free arm around your shoulders playing with strands of your hair as you discuss your day and plans for the night.

When you're done with your drinks, you will take his empty mug back to the kitchens, but not before he kisses you.... and attempts to bite your cheek off.

he loves your cheeks, what can I say?

Masterlist which severely needs updating

#rose answers #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanons #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #rose rambles

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sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

The Apple of My Eye

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend can't believe you've never gone apple picking...

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Excited Bob, Flirty Bob, Bob.

Word Count: 1,136

A/N: I know this one is a little on the shorter side too, but why force more when it's already so cheesy? Anyway, this is part of my Halloween/Fall one-shot collection! My inbox and requests are always open, so feel free to shoot me a message! As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated! If you like my writing, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Masterlist || Bob One-Shot Masterlist || Robert "Bob" Floyd Tag List

“Are you ready?” Bob asked excitedly from the driver seat. You looked over at him with a small smile, heart warming at the sight of your overly enthusiastic boyfriend. Bob didn’t often show his excitement like this, and you were one of the few people who ever got to see him in this state.

No, you’re boyfriend was a weird mix of shy and confidant, something that worked surprisingly well for him. He was confidant in his abilities, but horribly shy when it came to romance. You had been shocked when the young pilot had approached you one day during a summer day off with your mutual friends. You had always found him attractive, and everyone knew this fact, especially your long-time best friend Natasha. She had been the reason you had been enveloped into the dagger squad to begin with. You weren’t a pilot, but that didn’t seem to matter the more you spent time with the rowdy crew.

Bob had caught your eye almost immediately with the way he would duck his head and blush everytime you so much as looked his way. It was endearing, really. But what really had you falling head over heels for the man was the surprising amount of self-assuredness he had when doing things. Confidence was sexy, after all. And after months of tip-toeing around each other, the squad had worked together to come up with the perfect plan at getting Bob to ask you out. That summer day was one of the best of your entire life.

Now, you smiled softly at your boyfriend of over a year as he buzzed with excitment at the idea of your current date. He had stared at you in disbelief when you told him that you had never been apple picking, and he had decided that that was a misfortune that had to be corrected right away.

“I’m ready, Robby,” you hummed, gathering the basket at your feet. Bob got out of the car and rounded to your side, opening the door so you could get out. He was nothing, if not a gentleman. He offered you his hand, and you took it gratefully, linking your arm with his as he pushed the door closed behind you.

“You’re gonna have so much fun, Bug. I can’t believe you’ve never gone apple picking before!” He grinned. You giggled at how excited he was, moving your hand down to intertwine your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand lightly, giving you a shy smile. You hoped a day never came where that smile didn’t send a flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Minutes later, the two of you were walking through rows of trees, families, friend, and couples milling about around you.

“So,” you drawled, glancing up at him. “How does this work?”

Bob’s eyes lit up, excitedly telling you about everything there was to know, and you watched him with a dreamy expression.

“So, you don’t wanna pick the apples that are already on the ground because those are for the deer and bugs,” he explained, gesturing to the many apples that littered the ground. “And then you wanna pick the apples from the outer branches because they ripen first. Oh! And don’t eat straight from the tree.”

“Why not?” You asked him.

“Because you always wanna wash your fruit first, baby. Who knows what kind of pesticides they use around here,” he replied, wrinkling his nose.

“Makes sense,” you nodded, walking up to one of the trees. “What about these?”

Bob stepped up beside you, inspecting the yellow and red apples. “You planning on doing much baking?”

“Isn’t that why we’re here picking them?” You giggled, earning a soft smile back. “Thought you would want some apple pie.”

“You gonna bake for me, sugar?” He smirked, leaning in. You hummed, brushing your nose against his.

“Would do anything for you, Robby,” you grinned, biting at your bottom lip. Bob blushed, ducking his head down in embarrassment. You let out another giggle, reaching up to pick one of the low hanging apples. Bob glanced up, reaching his hand out to stop you.

“Hold on, now,” he smiled. “There’s a trick to it. You don’t want to pull on the apple, that means it isn’t ready. You wanna find one that you can just twist-”

He gently twisted his hand around the apple, and you heard a quiet snap as the fruit broke free from the branch, his smile just as wide as yours as you looked at one another.

“And pull,” he finished, pulling the apple free and placing it gently into the basket. “You don’t wanna just toss them in either. That can bruise’em and then they’ll all go bad.”

“Look at you, Mr. Smarty-pants!” You teased, causing another blush to crawl up his cheeks. You placed a kiss to his cheek before stepping back to assess the tree in front of you. “Now, let’s get to work! There are apples to be picked and pies with your name on them waiting to be baked!”

The two of you began working your way around the lower branches, plucking and comparing apples as you quickly filled your basket. Bob took one look at you holding the heavy object, and shook his head with a frown. Worldlessly, he took the basket from your hands, replacing it with his other hand. You leaned into him with a smile, gazing up at him adoringly.

“Always the gentleman,” you gushed, and Bob looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow, eyes containing a hint of mischief.

“Always?” He hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear with a smirk. “What about when I do that one thing in the bedroom-”

“Robert Floyd!” You shrieked past a giggle, swatting his shoulder as he chuckled. “You can’t just go around saying things like that! There are children present!”

“You’ve never complained about the things I’ve said before,” he smirked, and now it was your turn to duck your head out of shyness. Bob chuckled, squeezing your hand gently as he pulled you towards the barn where the rest of the crowd was weaving in and out.

“C’mon, sugar,” he laughed. “Let’s go get some cider, yeah?”

You allowed yourself to be led to the barn, smile ever-present on your face as it usually was in the presence of the man next to you.

Yes, Bob could be shy at times, but he was a man who knew what he wanted. And what you didn’t know was that he was confidant in the fact that you were it for him, but he would wait. His mama always told him that patience was a virtue and that good things come to those who wait. He would wait forever if it meant he could keep you by his side.

Tag List: @haley-hotchner @bobgasm @nicestgirlonline @fanficfandomlove @hopip99 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @theamuz @rosedurin @kmc1989 @emandems10 @linkpk88 @deliriousfangirl61 @nouis-bum

#robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #one shot

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maximoffcarter · 23 days

Text

Drunken nights.

Pairings: Alex Cabot x reader.

Summary: Alex never understood what was the point of getting drunk, y/n had never seen her drunk before. But sometimes it happens that people stop counting their drinks and then...we get a drunk Alex.

A/n: This was requested by an anon, drunk and clingy Alex. I wrote more than I expected, I just got carried away, so I hope it is what the anon wanted haha. Keep the requests coming you guys! Enjoy and leave your comments, reblogs, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

Alexandra Cabot has always been a private and reserved person for as long as she can remember. Even when she was a kid, she had been a selective kid and pretty reserved about what she liked and wanted, so that meant that she had very few friends, and never actually kept any contact with them. But that had changed when she started college. At first, she had said that she’d fully focus on her studies only, she was always the top of her class, so she was not about to change that here, and if that meant zero friends, then so be it. But after her first class, she ran into a girl in the hallway, making all of her books fall to the floor, and once she had them all back in her hands with the help of the girl, she couldn’t help but stare at her and the girl had done the same. That was the day when Alex and y/n had become close friends.

Their whole career, they had stuck by each other’s sides and had pushed the other to become the best in their classes. Alex would be lying if she said that she would’ve rather stay alone and go through the years alone, she had actually been happy to have someone by her side who was at her level, and who never stopped her from being herself and getting what she wanted, though they had their differences, they got alone pretty well, and Alex loved that about y/n. After graduating, they had parted ways, both women wanting different things with their careers, but even then, they never once lost contact and if they ever needed anything, they were just one call away.

And that’s how y/n ended up being Alex’s roommate three years later. On a random day, y/n had told Alex that she would be moving to Manhattan and that she had been trying to find a place to live but everywhere she went, was either way too expensive for her at the moment, it was a complete shithole, or it was too far away from her new job. So, Alex thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea if she offered y/n her guest room. Her apartment was pretty big, in a good location, her guest was actually never used, and Alex definitely didn’t mind the company of her best friend; and she was right, once again, she had taken the best decision. It turned out that y/n was working in White Collar, and she had been transferred to Manhattan, so at the end of the day, they wouldn’t be working too far away from each other.

Coming home to y/n was probably the best thing ever, they had dinner together, they shared their work with each other whenever they were stuck or they needed another perspective, they had lunch together, they basically almost did everything together. After a whole year living together, Alex couldn’t picture herself in another situation, she couldn’t see herself living alone anymore, which once again brought back those old feelings; that crush she never mentioned when they were in college. Their friendship was so good and beautiful, unlike any other friendship that Alex had had before, so of course she didn’t want to lose that. If having y/n in her life meant she’d only have her as her friend, then that’s how it was going to be.

“Hey Lexi?” Y/n asked softly as she walked into the living room.

“Yeah?” Alex turned to look at y/n and smiled softly.

“We’re out of fruit and milk, I’m gonna head tomorrow to the store after work. Is there anything you need from the store?”

“I can come with you. Maybe something pops up while we’re there.” Alex smiled.

“That sounds good.” Y/n smiled. “Okay, I’m gonna go get ready.”

Alex frowned as she sat down on the couch and placed her notepad in her lap. “You’re going out?”

Y/n turned to look at Alex and smiled softly. “Yeah. Some colleague got me involved in a blind date and I said I’d go, thinking it was actually a night with them but…it’s a blind date.”

Alex’s smile fainted as she nodded, looking down at her notepad. “Good. Uh…I hope you have fun.” She looked back at y/n and offered a small smile. “Let me know if you need a ride back or if you need anything.”

“I will, thanks, Lexi. I’ll see at the office tomorrow.” Y/n smiled before she walked out of the living room.

It wasn’t that Alex was not conscious that this would happen sooner or later. Hell, she even went on one or two dates herself, even before y/n had moved in with her, she’s had her one night stands and dates, but after y/n had arrived, there was no one else but her. But Alex was pretty conscious that sooner or later, y/n would settle in Manhattan and then she’d start dating. She had also told Alex that she’d find a place once she was stable enough with her job, but Alex had insisted that she really didn’t mind her staying there, now that was their apartment and she liked it that way. But y/n could find a partner soon, and then maybe she’d one to have her private moment with them, which of course crushed Alex’s heart but she knew it was also her fault for never talking to y/n. There was nothing she could do.

********************

“How’s the Gilbert case going?” Y/n asked as she took a sip of her drink.

Alex shrugged as she took a bite of her sandwich. “It’s okay. I’ve got like…three witnesses. There is no way that he’s getting out of this one.”

“How could he when you’re prosecuting him?” Y/n grinned and went back to eat her food.

Alex stared at her for a moment and grinned, nodding her head. ��So…you never told me about your date.” She looked down at her notepad even if she was really not paying attention to it.

Y/n looked back at Alex and shrugged. “It was okay. I mean…she’s really nice. She works with us, but I never noticed her before.”

“Are you…going out with her again?”

Y/n shrugged. “I’ve been pretty busy to think about that. But…maybe I wouldn’t say no to another date.”

Alex nodded softly as she looked back down at her notepad. “Right.” She cleared her throat. “By the way, I’m going out today with the squad. I’ve been promising that I’ll go for drinks with them, and they finally reminded me of it.” She chuckled.

“They just want to see you loosen up a bit.” Y/n chuckled softly.

Alex frowned as she shook her head. “What do you mean? I do loosen up.” She grinned.

“Oh, c’mon, Lexi. When was the last time you actually got drunk?” Y/n raised her brow.

“I…I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“Because you haven’t…never.” Y/n laughed softly.

Alex rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, so? What’s the point of getting drunk?”

Y/n shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s fun.”

“Oh, so much fun. I remember taking you back home and having you barely standing on both feet.”

“Hey! We do not mention those times.”

“Too late.” Alex laughed as y/n threw a chip at her, laughing with her.

Later that day, Alex had met the squad at a bar near the precinct, and it seemed like they were celebrating that Alex was finally going out with them. The first half hour she had only been listening to the rest of the squad talking about cases or some old stories they had, she had also been refusing to drink anything else than a glass of wine, but when the squad started asking for rounds of beers -and a shot or two-, Alex couldn’t help but drink along, ending up joining into the conversation and laughs. She was happy that even after all the stress and anxiety in the last few days, she could feel a bit relaxed and happy, suddenly every bad thought had been pushed away.

“So, Cabot. Anyone in your life?” Fin raised his brow as he looked at Alex.

Alex furrowed her brows as she looked at Fin. “I’m married to my work.”

Elliot laughed. “C’mon, Alex. Didn’t work with Langan?”

Alex laughed as she shook her head. “Oh, that was a mistake. Do not remind me of that date. It started and ended right there.”

Olivia laughed as she nodded. “We thought we would lose you that night.”

“Never. It was a complete mistake.” Alex sighed as she looked at her drink. “And no, no one in my life.”

“What about that girl you’re always with?” Munch asked as he looked at Alex.

Alex raised her brows. “Are you guys spying on me or something?” She chuckled. “And y/n, she’s my best friend. She lives with me. We’ve known each other since college.”

“Best friend? You sure about that?” Elliot grinned as he took a sip of his drink.

“She’s going out on dates. So yes. Just my best friend.” Alex took a sip of her drink and then shook her head again. “Why are we talking about my miserable love life? Let’s talk about something else!” She chuckled softly with Olivia.

After an hour or so, Alex had had more drinks than she was supposed to have, losing count of them at some point and forgetting that she had to go back home alone. She had told Olivia that she’d be okay, but Olivia could tell that Alex didn’t really mix drinks, ever, and if she let Alex go alone, she didn’t know what could happen. So she took the liberty to grab Alex’s phone and find y/n’s phone number and dialed it. After the phone call, Olivia smiled as she heard the worry on y/n’s voice and the way she said she’d be there as soon as possible to pick up Alex. Olivia then knew that Alex was completely oblivious of y/n’s feelings, and she was pretty sure that y/n was just as oblivious. Not too long after, y/n arrived and introduced herself to everyone, a shy smile on her face as Alex almost screamed her name when she saw her. She was wasted.

The whole ride, y/n had tried not to laugh as Alex kept singing whatever song played in the radio, every now and then, she’d turn to look at her and make sure she was still okay, but Alex looked like she was full of energy, which made y/n realize that once in the apartment, it would be a complete ordeal to get her to sleep, and that was if she was able to, a little afraid that Alex would end up being sick and would have to stay close to the toilet. Once they got to the building, y/n had her arms wrapped around Alex as they walked to the elevator. Alex had been talking nonsense the whole way to their floor, her arms securely wrapped around y/n. Y/n wanted to laugh as she had never seen Alex this way, maybe she had made a mistake to tell Alex that she had never been drunk because she was completely wasted, but y/n found it cute at the same time, and she had no problem in taking care of her. When they were inside the apartment, y/n made sure to sit Alex down so she could go close the door properly and make sure it was locked, but just as y/n left Alex’s side, she started to call for her.

“Y/n! Where did you go?” Alex whined as she leaned back against the couch. “Don’t leave me here!”

Y/n chuckled softly as she walked back into the living room. “Lexi, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I just had to go lock the door. We don’t want someone walking in.”

Alex groaned. “Right. Well, come here now.” She extended her arms as she smiled. “My arms are waiting for you.”

Y/n bit her lip as she held back her laugh. She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Alex, you’re going to bed. It’s late, and you’re drunk. You need sleep.”

Alex groaned again and whined as she let her arms fall. “But y/n! I want cuddles! Why won’t you want to cuddle?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Lexi. But you’re drunk. We can cuddle once you sleep.” Y/n walked to her and helped her get up, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Alex wrapped her arms around her neck and sighed. “You smell so good. You always do.”

Y/n sighed. “So, drunk Alex says her undying love for everyone, huh?” She grinned as they started walking to Alex’s room.

“Mmm…no.” Alex shook her head. “Just for youuuu.” She laughed.

“Right.” Y/n chuckled as she sat Alex on the bed. “You think you can change into your pajamas?”

Alex shrugged. “Can I?”

“I sure hope so, or we’re about to be uncomfortable in the morning when I tell you that I helped you change.” Y/n smiled as she went to Alex’s closet to get a fresh pair of pajamas. She then walked back to Alex and placed the clothes beside her. “Here, try to change while I go to the kitchen.”

Alex nodded rapidly. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully as she walked out of the room and into the kitchen. She grabbed a snack thinking that maybe at some point in the night, Alex would get hungry, or even right at this moment. She then grabbed a glass of water and some pills for her to take in the morning. She turned off all the lights and then went back to Alex’s room, finding her already laying down in bed but mumbling something as she looked up at the ceiling. Y/n placed everything on Alex’s nightstand and then proceeded to get Alex’s clothes from the floor and the bed, walking to the bathroom and throwing them into the laundry basket. She went back to Alex’s bed and stared at her for a moment, smiling softly. Even drunk, Alex looked adorable and as beautiful as ever, it was almost frustrating. She took a deep breath as she went to Alex’s side and took off her glasses.

“Okay, Lexi. Time to sleep.” Y/n placed the glasses on her nightstand and then looked back at Alex. “You’ll worry about your makeup in the morning.” She tried to pull the covers so Alex could get under them but then Alex’s grabbed her hands.

“Y/n…please stay with me. Pretty please.” Alex pouted as she looked up at her.

Y/n chuckled softly. “Alex, you need sleep.”

“And I’ll sleep but stay with me. I don’t wanna be alone.” Alex pouted again, bringing y/n’s hands to her lips, and kissing them softly. “I want you here.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as she looked down at Alex, nodding softly. “Okay. I’ll stay with you.” She smiled softly and then went around the bed to lay down with Alex.

Before she knew it, Alex was moving and wrapped her arms around y/n’s middle, her head landing on y/n’s chest and sighing happily. Y/n couldn’t help but smile, wrapping her arms around Alex and kissing her head softly. It wasn’t the first time they cuddled, but there was something behind this moment that y/n couldn’t quiet tell what it was, but if she was given the chance, then she’d take it. They stayed quiet for a moment, y/n had started to trace patterns in Alex’s back as she looked up at the ceiling. Eventually, Alex started mumbling again, making y/n frown and look down at Alex, trying to figure out what she was saying.

“What are you saying?” Y/n whispered softly.

“I’m upset.” Alex said softly.

“Upset? Why upset?”

Alex sighed. “Y/n.”

Y/n frowned. “Y/n? What did she do?”

Alex sighed again as she looked up at y/n. “She doesn’t know. And I can’t tell her.”

“What doesn’t she know? Is there something you wanna tell her?”

Alex shrugged. “Maybe.” She rested her head again on y/n’s chest. “But can’t.”

“Maybe if you tell her you’ll stop being upset.”

“But then she’ll be upset.”

Y/n suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach, and not the good kind. She knew Alex was drunk, but she had also known that sometimes drunk people spoke the truth, and maybe there was something Alex had been keeping to herself and she hadn’t told y/n not to hurt her. And suddenly she was scared of what could possibly be in Alex’s mind, but she knew better than to push.

“Alex…you should sleep.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Alex sighed as she looked up at y/n. “I wanna talk to y/n.”

Y/n smiled softly. “I’m here silly.”

Alex smiled. “That’s right.” She chuckled softly. “You beautiful.” She bit her lip, her hand suddenly going to y/n’s face, first stroking her cheek and then her fingertips touched her lips softly. “I like your lips.”

Y/n chuckled softly. “I like yours.”

Alex stared into her eyes and then bit her own lips. “I wanna kiss you.” She whispered softly as she stared at y/n’s lips, almost to herself, but since she was really close to y/n, she heard it.

Y/n gulped as she looked down at Alex. “You’re drunk, Alex. You don’t mean that.”

Alex frowned. “But I do.” She whispered softly, she then sat up and turned to look at y/n. “You…you don’t wanna kiss me?” Her face looked so sad as she asked, making y/n’s heart break a little.

“Alex…” y/n sat down and sighed as she placed her hand on Alex’s cheek, stroking it softly. “I do. But…you’re drunk. I will if this is what you still want in the morning.”

Alex whined. “But I want now.”

“Alex, I-“

Before she could say anything else, Alex placed her hands on y/n’s neck and closed the gap between them, kissing her lips tenderly but also hungrily. Y/n gasped softly, her first thought was pulling away, but her lips seemed to think on their own as she kissed Alex back, her other hand landing on Alex’s waist. Everything seemed to happen too fast as Alex moved to straddle y/n’s lap, pushing her against the pillows and swiping her tongue against y/n’s bottom lip, y/n giving her access right away and moaning as she felt Alex’s tongue. But then the taste of alcohol made her realize what was happening, her hands going to Alex’s shoulders and softly pushing her away, both women panting as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Alex…this is…” Y/n swallowed as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

Alex sighed as she got off y/n’s lap and laid back down on her side, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes started to get teary as she bit her lip.

Y/n turned her head to look at Alex and sighed softly, moving close to her, and kissing her head softly. “You’re drunk, Alex.”

“Just…please don’t leave.” Alex rapidly went back to her arms, burying her face in y/n’s neck.

“Never.” Y/n wrapped her arms around her again as she sighed.

She didn’t know when they both had fallen asleep, the room had fallen into silence as they held each other and after that, both women lost track of time. Y/n groaned softly as she moved and tried to reach for Alex, but then she figured out that Alex’s side was now empty. Y/n opened her eyes and turned her head to try to find Alex, for a moment her mind stupidly thinking that she might’ve fallen to the floor, but then she heard Alex groaning in the bathroom and she stood up rapidly, almost running to the bathroom. She sighed as she found Alex kneeling in front of the toilet. She knelt beside Alex’s and held her hair as she threw up, she had been hoping that this wouldn’t happen, but after seeing how drunk Alex was, she knew it would come at some point during the night.

Alex sighed as she rested her forehead against her arm, mumbling that she was done, y/n stood up and flushed the toilet. Y/n helped Alex get up slowly, trying to not make her dizzy as she tried to stand still. Alex looked at y/n and told her she wanted to brush her teeth, so y/n helped get in front of the sink and got her toothbrush and paste out, preparing it for her and handing it to Alex. After she was done, y/n helped Alex get back to bed and helped her drink some of the water that y/n had brought for her. Alex then laid back in bed and sighed softly.

“Stay?” Alex whispered softly.

Y/n nodded as she crawled back in bed, wrapping her arms around Alex and smiling softly as Alex wrapped her arms around her middle again, feeling Alex’s breath against her neck. Right after, both women fell asleep again.

********************

Alex groaned loudly as she tried to stretch, groaning again as she felt her head pounding badly. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around her room, trying to figure out why her head was hurting that badly. As she slowly sat down, she turned to look at her nightstand and find a glass of water with some painkillers. She looked back around her room again and frowned. She took two pills and then decided to get out of bed, whining as she felt both her head and her shoulders heavy. She then went to the bathroom to wash her face and try to wake up a little more, and as she looked at herself in the mirror, the memory of last night hit her. Shit. She got drunk. She was with the squad, and she stopped counting her drinks. She got drunk. So drunk. And then it hit her again. Y/n. Y/n had seen her like this.

“Fuck.” Alex cursed under her breath as she walked out of the bathroom and out of her room. She slowly walked to the kitchen and stopped in her tracks as she noticed y/n in front of the stove, making breakfast.

Y/n turned her head and smiled softly. “Morning, Lexi.”

“Morning…” Alex whispered, not moving an inch, scared that if she moved, something would happen, or y/n would say something. But she knew they had to talk about last night. She needed to know what she did.

“Breakfast is almost ready. Sit down, I’ll get the coffee.” Y/n smiled as she turned her attention back to what she was doing.

Alex nodded softly and went ahead to sit on one of the stools, her eyes never leaving y/n’s. As she looked at her, she tried to figure out what had happened the night before. She remembered drinking and laughing with the squad. She remembered that they had asked about y/n, and then they started talking about something else, and that’s when she started losing count of her drinks. She remembered being in the car with y/n, making a fool out of herself, and then she remembered getting home. She remembered she had laid in bed, and she had asked y/n to stay. She remembered going to the bathroom and throwing up. But there was something missing, something happened before she woke up to go to the bathroom.

Y/n placed the plate in front of Alex along with her mug. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Alex looked at her and offered a small smile. “This looks delicious, thank you.”

“I know you love pancakes with bacon.” Y/n smiled as she grabbed a plate for her and went around the kitchen island to sit beside Alex.

Alex took a bite and smiled softly. She wanted to at least have a bit of food in her system before they started talking. She was sure y/n knew what had happened last night but maybe she was just acting nicely to not make Alex feel bad about it. Eventually, both women finished breakfast and just sat there with their mugs in hand. Alex kept trying to look at y/n, but she would stare back at her mug, wishing the coffee was endless.

“So…about last night.” Y/n started, looking at Alex. “Do you remember anything?”

Alex shrugged. “Not everything.”

Y/n nodded. “What do you remember?”

Alex sighed as she looked at y/n. “Being at the bar. I remember losing count of the drinks. I remember being in the car with you, and then getting home. It’s kind of blurry but I remember going to bed, I was…” she blushed slightly. “I guess I was being clingy, and I asked you to stay.”

Y/n smiled softly. “Yeah, you were cute.”

Alex huffed a chuckle as shrugged. “After that, everything is blurry. I remember getting up to throw up. And then I woke up.”

Y/n sighed as she looked back at her mug. “Got it.”

Alex frowned. “Oh, no. What did I do?”

Y/n looked back at Alex and chuckled softly. “Nothing bad, Alex. Just-“

“Something happened, I know something happened. But I cannot remember. And you know. So, what did I do?”

Y/n took a deep breath as she looked down at her mug again. She nibbled her bottom lip as she tried to put her words in order. “Well…at some point you…started mumbling. You said you were upset, and you wanted to tell me something, but you never did. And then…you uh…you started saying that you wanted to…kiss me.”

Alex closed her eyes as she looked away. “Oh, god.” She whispered softly.

“And you did.”

Alex snapped her head up, turning to look at y/n. “Y/n, I-“

“I kissed you back.” Y/n huffed a chuckle. “We basically made out.” She nibbled on her lip again as she tried to talk again. “I…I shouldn’t have kissed you back, Alex. I am so sorry.”

Suddenly, memories started to appear in Alex’s mind, sighing as she shook her head. “No, y/n…I shouldn’t have kissed you. I…I was drunk, and I was- god. I am so sorry.”

“I took advantage of you, Alex. I should’ve stopped you the moment you kissed me.”

Alex looked back at y/n and frowned. “But I kissed you. I took advantage of you.”

Y/n looked back at Alex. “I wanted you to kiss me.”

Alex’s breath hitched. “What?”

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Y/n shrugged as she looked away. “I had been wanting you to kiss me for so long…I…I got so lost in the kiss, I didn’t know what was going on until I figured out too late. And…I’m so sorry, Alex. I wished so badly for that moment to happen, and it happened, and I couldn’t help it. And then I wished that you’d remember, and you’d want to do it again, but sober. And I-“

“I do.”

Y/n looked at Alex, a hint of hope in her eyes. “You do?”

Alex smiled softly. “I was not upset at you. I was upset at myself because…I never told you that I had feelings for you, and then you started going on dates, and I thought it was too late.”

“I started going on dates because I thought I needed to get over you.”

Alex chuckled softly as she shook her head. “Please, don’t.” She smiled. “I want to kiss you. And I want to be with you. I am so sorry that I had to get drunk for me to tell you this, and that our first kiss had to be that way. I’d do things differently if I could.”

Y/n smiled, standing up and getting between Alex’s legs, her hands going to Alex’s cheeks and stroking them softly. “Then let’s have our second kiss.”

Alex smiled softly as she placed her hands on y/n’s waist and leaned in to kiss her lips softly. Even if y/n had to admit that last night’s kiss was everything, this had topped that kiss; it was everything she always imagined when she thought about kissing Alex. So tender, so sweet, so full of emotions, there was nothing left to say after the kiss, they were talking through it. Y/n couldn’t help but smile against her lips, breaking the kiss but staying in place, making Alex smile too.

“You know.” Y/n whispered softly, looking into blue eyes. “You’re very clingy when you’re drunk.”

Alex chuckled softly. “Please never let me get drunk again.”

Y/n chuckled as she kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll think about it. Because you were really cute.”

Alex rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll be clingy, but I’ll never get drunk again.”

“Deal.” Y/n smiled and kissed her lips softly again.

#alex cabot x reader #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #svu fic #law and order svu #svu

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skyeslittlecorner · 1 month

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Hi!! I love your work too much and it's the first time asking for a request but I need more baby leviathan 😭 I just can't, he's so cute and breaks my heart so much 🥺 I just want to hug him and comfort him. Could I have a little more? 👉👈

(Sorry for the bad English, I'm still learning since it's not my native language 😔)

Hi dear! Don't worry, your English is good! Sorry it took me so long, life got to me. But, it's finally time to write this lovely request. I made it a little longer than I planed, and I hope it will make up for the wait🧡

Words: ~700

Perfect from every point of view | Leviathan

Have you ever had a dream that you didn't want to repeat? A nightmare that has plagued you all your life? A trauma that you didn't want to forget, only to honor the memory of those who passed away?

If not, imagine the cold. The Arctic cold goes through your entire body, as if you jumped into an ice hole in the middle of winter, drowned in icy water with a thick layer of ice above the head. These were the feelings Leviathan had when he looked at his baby hands.

Turned into a child. What for? Why him? An injustice he couldn't understand. Especially with his childish mind. It's not fair. It shouldn't be like this, he's the king, he can't be like this! No one can see him like that.

Although he was used to spending time in his office, today it seemed unusually empty. Somehow greater and dreadfully quiet. The furniture was a bit bigger, the footsteps were a bit louder. He even kicked Foras out so he wouldn't come any closer. Levi supposedly knew that his subjects wouldn't do anything to him, he could always hang them, but... was afraid, and didn't want to admit it to himself. So when the door creaked, he raised his hand, ready to hang the unaware poor guy, but nothing happened.

“It’s just me.”

A voice, unusually gentle, cut through the silence. Only after a while the boy carefully lowered his hand and turned around, still not coming out from behind the coffin. But he saw. It was you. Stood in the open door, smiling casually.

Something made him want to trust you. That's good? Bad? Rather bad, after all you can't trust anyone.

“Can I come in? I have something that kids on Earth love. Do you want to try it?” You didn't get an answer, but you thought about it too. “No one in hell has ever tried this.”

With this promise, you managed to tickle his uniqueness.

“Nobody?”

“No, and certainly not made by me.”

Finally, a small, horned head popped out from behind the coffin and looked at you. Enemy? Friend? You were deemed the latter and invited in.

Of course, chocolate-covered bananas weren't the height of culinary genius, but you didn't have time to think or do anything else. Fortunately, the child didn't ask. He just tried thickly covered with cocoa pieces of fruit, and occasionally flinched at a sound you couldn't even hear. The innocent look reminded you of a scared deer, and the sharp facial expressions of a starved, tortured dog.

You wondered if he would eat this little treat as an adult, or would he despise it? Although currently he looked like he was just eating stress. Or like he actually remembered starving when he was in the cage. You brushed shiny strands of hair from the fair forehead. He let you. Seeing so much terror and pain in those crystal yet dull eyes, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and protect him from the world. Yes, the adult was an asshole, but... You'll think about it when he'll be an adult again. You hoped that you would both just forget about this episode like it never happened and continue to lovehate each other.

“I’ll spend time with you, okay? You will let me?”

Another moment of consideration passed before he nodded. A lazy afternoon together awaited you, just for you to fall asleep in a coffin together.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

When Levi opened his eyes in the middle of the night, everything was back to normal. You were finally in his arms and not the other way around. Smaller, more fragile, more delicate. Almost everything... from the one percent threat you had been before, you were now none at all in his eyes. Human, a creature full of doubts and capable of lies, chose to live honestly, full of care and warmth. Truly devilish.

He hugged you tighter and kissed you tenderly on your forehead and then on your nose. As he fell back to sleep, his tired brain recalling a vision that he fortunately had no memory of when he woke up the next morning. Jealousy would consume him. But now? Now in his perfect arms lay the most perfect being.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #skye's little talk

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albertdabuttler · 8 months

Text

Another Nightmare? | M.O.

MASTERLIST

fandom: Marvel

pairings: Miguel O’Hara x Latina!F!Reader

WARNINGS: Just imagine yourself as a puerto rican ig because we come in all colors ;) kissing, smut :3 boobie touching LOL, biting, blood consumption cuz im insane :D, oral (f), fingering, size kink (?) p in v, breeding kink ig, his talons clawing into you xx, cockwarming… miguel isn’t an unrealistically animalistic airhead in this (ahem like most fics i read ahem) BUT he’s still rough in a gentle way and in control obvi ;^ i think that’s it 🤨 oh and i proofread this like once lmao READER IS A SPIDER-PERSON BTW

summary: Miguel had a dream about you.

WC: 3.1k

gif not mine, enjoy losers!

———————

You woke up to the sound of the bedroom door opening, watching as Miguel walked through it. Turning over and checking the time, you realized it was almost two in the morning and you wondered what had woken Miguel up this late.

As you walked down the hall to the kitchen, you saw Miguel standing before the fridge, inspecting it’s contents.

“Migs, you alright?” You questioned, moving closer to him. He instinctively twitched and you knew something had to be wrong if he didn’t want you near him.

“I’m fine.” He spoke quietly, keeping his gaze somewhere in the fridge before he took the bottle of passion fruit juice you had sitting in there.

“Qué pasó?” You frowned. “Did…Did you have another nightmare…?”

“No…” He sighed. “Just can’t sleep.” He opened the bottle and took a gulp straight from it before bringing it back down and putting it away.

“I see…” You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously, turning back around to go back to bed. “I’ll… See you tomorrow.” Walking back to your room, you thought this might be a night where he’d sleep on the couch again, depriving you of his warm touch. You hated those nights and although you’d never gotten intimate with Miguel, you couldn’t help but feel hollow. His presence and weight on the mattress was the only thing helping you drift off.

“Hey…” He called out to you softly as you pushed the door of your room open.

“Hm?” You looked back at him, unable to hide your frown.

“It’s not about you…” He adverted his eyes to the side before bringing a hand up to cover his face. “Well…” He couldn’t help but chuckle from embarrassment. “It is about you…”

Miguel peeked at you through his fingers, “I’m just…” He sighed heavily.

Turning your body to face him, you scanned him for no reason in particular. Your eyes landed on his again with a look of concern before you did a double take and glanced at his crotch, noticing a subtle bulge. You couldn’t help the blood rush making it’s way to your face.

He noticed this and dragged both hands down his face before running them through his hair with a sigh.

“I had a dream about you. About us…” he looked elsewhere again.

Swallowing hard, you felt jittery all of a sudden. “What happened…?” You couldn’t help but bite back a smile.

“We…” He scoffed at himself. “I…” he hid a smile too. “We bred.” That was the best and simplest way to describe it.

You looked at him confused for a moment before processing what he said.

“We got married… We had kids… Then we wanted more.” He looked up at you, his lopsided smile more prominent.

It wasn’t that you guys weren’t ready to do any of that, trust him. He was just as ready as you were. But he didn’t have time. Neither of you did. You were back in your dimension being the Spider-Girl you were supposed to be, and he was everywhere else, keeping the multiverse from falling apart. You both thought of the risks of being together, until you realized it was nearly harmless. As long as what you did with him as your boyfriend didn’t get in the way of canon events, it would be alright. Because for fuck’s sake, he had thousands of other spider-people in his universe for crying out loud.

Miguel walked over to you. “You were amazing. So beautiful...” He smiled tiredly, reaching to place a hand on your cheek as he kissed the other.

“So sweet…” Moving his hand down to the side of your neck, he placed another kiss on that side of your face before bringing his lips just below your ear. He planted a lingering kiss there before he whispered in a husky voice.

“So flexible.” He moved his face away, smiling and keeping his gaze on your lips. “I need you.” He whispered. “I’ve needed you for so long…” He chuckled again. “Can’t even sleep because of it.”

You licked your lips, keeping your eyes on his. “Me too…”

His gaze moved to your eyes, pleading silently. “Can we…?” You knew what he was referring to. Not a second went by before you nodded, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into the bedroom.

“Ay,” he chuckled at your excitement, allowing himself be dragged by you. Letting yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, you pulled him down with you, catching his lips in a kiss. He sighed into it, resting his elbow beside your head as his other hand moved down to squeeze your waist.

“Miguel…” You kept your eyes on his lips, dragging a hand down his chest as you pulled at the hem.

“Qué necesitas, mi amor, hmm? Tell me.” He breathed, allowing you to pull his shirt off over his head.

Releasing a low moan at the sight of his bare chest, he giggled at the sound, diving in to kiss your neck and dragging his hand up and down your thigh.

“Tell me.” He spoke again.

“You. I need you…” You spoke just above a whisper, digging your nails into his shoulder at the lack of satisfaction.

He chuckled. “Be more specific.” He slipped his tongue out and dragged it across your jugular, threatening to bite but holding back so not to hurt you.

“Fuck… Just—make me feel good…” You paused, thinking about what he told you of his dream. Leaning your head a bit, you whispered into his ear. “Breed me.”

Miguel chuckled, nuzzling his face into your neck as he blushed. “…Don’t tease…” He questioned if you were poking fun at him or not. He pulled back to look at you once more. His eyes scanned your features and he knew you were serious. Your face told him everything.

He glanced at your lips again before moving down and kissing you desperately, a low groan coming from him. It was now that you began to feel his hard-on against your thigh. He began grinding slowly as his mouth pried yours open, slipping his tongue past your lips. You let out a quiet moan and moved a hand to the back of his head, guiding his mouth against yours. His tongue overpowered yours with no effort, pulling away just barely enough to tug at your bottom lip with his teeth. He let go as it smacked back into place, making his breath shake.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he lowered himself again, kissing your throat and dragging his tongue down to your collar bone.

“Take this off.” He spoke softly but you knew he wasn’t asking. You quickly pulled up your shirt, slipping it over and off your head as he stared down at you, admiring your bare body for the first time.

A long enough moment passed and you began feeling insecure, moving your arms across your chest and looking to the side.

“Say something…” you requested, feeling embarrassed. You thought he might not like it, maybe he didn’t like the shape of your torso? Maybe he didn’t think it fit your face…?

He blinked. “Mi amor…” He placed a hand on your arms. Miguel took his bottom lip into his mouth, biting it subconsciously. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You chuckled with a muddled expression. “I am?”

He only whined, “Let me look at you.” He spoke, softly tugging at your arms and you reluctantly pulled them away, leaving you exposed. He traced every inch of you with his hand before he brought it to your breast, gently kneading it in his hand as he watched the soft flesh move under his fingers.

“So pretty.” He sighed, lowering his head to the other one, keeping his eyes on your face as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it cautiously.

“Miguel,” you moaned his name softly, making him perk up at the way it sounded.

“Yes?” He smiled cheekily as he kissed the side of your breast, leaving a hickey.

You couldn’t get the words out and only sighed, looking at him with a pleading expression.

“Por supuesto.” He smiled, kissing down your ribs and below your belly, stopping at the hem of your pajama shorts. He hooked a finger onto it, pulling it down along with your panties, wanting to get it all off at once.

His hands gripped at the outer sides of your thighs, holding them apart. He licked your thigh before kissing it gently, smirking at your reactions.

His fangs poked out and he pulled away, confused at his lack of control with them all of a sudden. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “What happened?”

“Nothing…” He tried retracting them but it was of no use.

You noticed this and bit your lip. “Bite me.”

“What?” He looked up at you.

“Bite me, Miggy…”

He hesitated for a moment before smiling, dragging the two sharp teeth across the skin of your legs. “You sure?” He needed reassurance.

Nodding vigorously, he planted another kiss. His fangs poked lightly at your skin, almost tickling you until he bit down harshly, sinking his teeth into your thigh.

You let out a groan at the pain, bringing your legs together but he held them apart. He pulled his teeth out and sucked the blood left behind, lapping at the flow of the red liquid. He began kissing closer and closer to your lips, teasing you as much as he could before he dove in, licking a stripe up your slit and wrapping his lips around your clit.

Moaning quietly, he began sucking on the sensitive nub, bringing his free hand and slowly pushing in his index finger. You arched your back and threw your head back, making Miguel stop. He kept his still finger inside you as he spoke.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he urged in a low voice, not aggressively but enough that you knew he wouldn’t let you finish if you didn’t. You brought your head up to look at him again.

He brought his mouth back down to your pussy, beginning to move his finger in and out of you slowly. He had long, thick fingers, making you wonder how big his dick was.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment but remembering to look at Miguel.

He smiled against your clit, pushing in yet another finger. He forced them both further this time, curling them up into your g-spot as you arched your back. His eyes stayed on yours as he held the flat of his tongue against your clit. His digits thrusted into you at a slightly quicker pace, making a crease form in between your eyebrows, your lips parting.

“Feel good?” He asked politely, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded. “Yes, Miguel, please don’t stop…”

He sighed, pulling his fingers out and his lips popping off your nerve.

“Sorry, mi amor… Want you cumming while I’m inside you.” He felt bad for pulling your orgasm out of your grasp. You frowned too, that was until he stood up, displaying a super obvious bulge. It looked like there was a literal log stuffed in his pants, perpendicular to his body.

You stared at it, your legs instinctively spreading on their own. Miguel smiled softly. “Do you wanna help me, or…?”

Quickly sitting up, you reached for his sweatpants and pulled on the string, loosening them and desperately pulling them down. He stood in his boxers now, allowing nearly nothing to remain for the imagination. Your fingers traced his V-line, causing him to huff out a breath.

“I thought I told you not to tease…” he sighed, watching your hands closely. Hooking your fingers on his boxers, you finally pulled them down, leaving his erection on full display. It was nearly red, clearly it’s been untouched by anyone but his own right hand for a long time.

You couldn’t help but trace a finger along a vein on the side, making him moan quietly. “Please, mi amor.” he chuckled. “Don’t be like this…”

Your hand wrapped around him, spreading the precum on his tip with your thumb. He grabbed your shoulder, grinding into your hand, desperate for release.

Letting go, you laid back down, spreading your legs for him and smiling, reaching your arms out to him. “C’mere,” you giggled, excited to feel him inside you already. He smiled and leaned down, hovering over you. You paused.

“Wait…” you bit your lip nervously. He leaned back to look at you, a look of concern all over his face. “Qué pasó, princesa?”

“Can we try something…?”

His head tilted to the side, a small smirk on his lips. “Like what?”

“I think about taking you in every position, night and day… But I always tend to think of taking you from behind…”

Miguel’s face was red, the blush reaching his ears. His heart raced at the confession, although he thought about giving it to you in more ways than one. He bit his lip and smiled. “Of course, mami.”

You bit back a smile and quickly flipped yourself over. Miguel pulled your hips back harshly, making you yelp. He chuckled at your reaction, taking himself in his hand and slowly stroking himself, keeping a firm grip on your hip. He lined his tip up with your pussy, shuddering at your wetness against him. He teased you, moving it up and down your slit and smiling, waiting for your sweet voice to tell him to just fuck you already.

“Ay coño, Miguel!” You scolded. He laughed softly before pushing in slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you so quickly. As he bottomed out, you felt your body relax, your back arching at a sharp angle as your chest rested on the mattress, your arms wrapped around a pillow as you sighed.

“See?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Flexible.”

You playfully rolled your eyes before he pulled out slowly, pushing himself back in with the same gentleness and drawing out a soft moan from him. “Is this okay, baby?” He needed your approval before he could pick up his pace.

“Sí, Miguelito. Love how you feel inside me…” you whined at his girth stretching you out.

He took that as a sign that he could continue, his hips pulling back before he pushed back into you, repeating this movement until he was moving at an easy rhythm.

He sighed, “So tight, fuck…”

You only hummed in response, stuffing your face into the pillow, his movements rocking you back and forth. You felt the weight of his hand next to your arm as his other snaked around your waist, keeping you steady with his thrusts getting harder.

You groaned, biting your wrist so to suppress it before you heard him speak. “I like your voice, princesa. Don’t be afraid to use it.” He smiled, kissing behind your ear. The hand on your belly moved lower, finding your clit and putting pressure on it, rubbing it in tight circles.

You clenched around him at the feeling, causing him to groan quietly into your ear.

“Miggy—“ you choked out his name. “I’m gonna cum…” you informed him. He kept his pace the same, hoping to get you off on his movements.

“F—Faster,” you choked out, “deeper…” you whined again, his movements making you more and more sensitive the longer he went on. You knew he wasn’t all the way in, because although he bottomed out, you barely felt his hips brushing against your ass. He wasn’t pressed up against you.

“Fuck,” he sighed. You moved your knees further apart and he was able to push himself further into you, making you cry out a sob as your eyes watered at his size. He pulled back, the warmth of his chest against your back leaving you as his pelvis began hitting against your ass, making his breaths heavier.

“I’m gonna cum too,” he groaned. You clenched around him once more, feeling your orgasm getting closer and closer. He started moaning with each thrust, throwing his head back as his hands groped your ass harshly.

“Miguel—“ you were able to choke his name out before your walls stuttered around him, your vision getting blurry as you finally came. Miguel felt your liquids around him, dripping out of you and flowing down your thighs, his cock being coated with them every time he pulled out.

He continued moving inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm as you tightened around him, making him whine loudly. “Princesa,” he moaned, “can I cum—fuck—inside you?” He grunted, subconsciously speeding up his pace.

“Yes, Migs… Breed me…Please.” You begged, your cunt growing sore already.

Miguel grunted, his thrusts coming to a sudden halt as he leaned back down, ropes of his cum pumping inside you. His talons protracted into your hips with his orgasm, moaning quietly against your shoulder and kissing it as he ground into you, his breaths hitching.

He finally relaxed behind you, softening inside you as he felt the mess of yours and his cum flowing down your legs and inevitably onto the sheets. He kissed the side of your neck gently before whispering. “That was fucking amazing.” He smiled against your skin. “Yeah…” you agreed, trying to ignore his claws digging into your skin.

You hissed and he noticed something wet at the tips of his fingers, panicking and immediately pulling his claws out of you, he began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, princesa—” He leaned back down and kissed the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to do that… I’m sorry…” He frowned, realizing how much he’s hurt you within the first time he’s had sex with you.

“It’s okay, papito… I liked it…” you held back a wince, not wanting him to feel bad about anything he’s done because although it hurt, it turned you on. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and pulled out of you, making you sigh at the empty feeling. “I’ll be sure to do it again…” He went to get a warm wet towel and cleaned you up, dabbing softly at the bite mark on your leg that you completely forgot was there.

It began to sting as you recalled it and you hissed, making Miguel look up at you and pull away from the small wound. “Sorry.” He made a face. You could only smile at his carefulness. “It’s okay, handsome.” You grabbed his face and he smiled with surprise.

“Handsome?” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I’d like to get used to that…” Miguel smiled against your mouth. Pulling away again, he cleaned himself up and did his best to reverse the mess you left on the sheets. After he rinsed the towel out and put it in the laundry bin, he came back to bed and picked up his clothes along with yours.

“We’re not putting those back on, are we?”

He only smirked. “Why?”

“Just get in here, dummy.” You giggled, lifting the sheets for him to get in next to you. He didn’t hesitate for a second and dropped the clothes, climbing in under the covers with you. You placed a kiss on his chin and turned around to spoon with him. Miguel kissed your temple and sighed contently.

You nuzzled your ass against him as he raised an eyebrow. “Another round already?”

“I just like you inside me…” you whispered. “Feels empty without you.” You confessed.

He smiled warmly, grabbing a hold of himself, feeling himself hardening again already. He lifted your leg up and guided himself into you, sighing at your warmth. “I like being inside you too.”

You ground back on him, making him groan.

“You’re such a tease.”

———————

Thx for reading xoxo

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #smut #iz writes

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mishapen-dear · 3 months

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she died, once. never again .

also known as me going insane over this once-youngest child being the protector egg. the one at the back of the pack watching for any encroaching danger. she's always had two lives, always felt like the target, always ready to survive so that her older siblings could live. the danger is real, so she's also become dangerous. she is a baby named after fruit. she wont let her family rot. she is a CHILD

design notes under cut

i wanted to be Very practical w her outfit because pomme is a super practical egg, and also throw in some parental features.

she's got:

short hair (mostly out of her face/hard to grab onto (covered up entirely when she wears her helmet))

nothing easy to grab on to, which means no dangling charms. all personal touches to her outfit are embroidered/carved into the materials

a potions bag from aypierre (with gegg on it lmao)

little duckies on her stompin' boots (steel-toed probably. this baby has never had a stubbed toe)

apple embellishments on her gloves

probably a tiny tophat somewhere on her backpack to remind her of dapper. that, or a scythe

when she first started wearing tail armour she'd always fall over like a cat wearing a harness it was v cute. she was Determined to get used to it tho and then she did <3 girlie has some fucking terrifying core strength.

she's got some traits from her parents :D

star freckles from etoiles

feathers growing out of her hair from baghera

black streaks in her hair from bad (and probably a little horn nub underneath her hat that hasn't grown in yet)

reflective eyes from antoine

her eye shape from aypierre

bonus fact dont you ever think about how through aypierre pomme is human but he doesn't share that with her anymore

yeah

the only thing she got from kameto is her name and a list of the word "cigarette" in many languages

if he came around more she'd start to show traits from him but that one day wasn't enough to get that physical imprint across

she's also got really sharp teeth but no one can come to a consensus on where she got Those from

#mishapen sketches #qsmp pomme #qsmp #throwing so many headcanons at this baby all at once #this girl would fight god and lose #but give her siblings enough time to run away #OH i should've made her star freckles also very lightly glow in the dark #maybe next time #in summary: i love her

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devieuls · 10 months

Text

The way of love pt.VIII

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: ///////

Lenght : 4.6k

Notes: I’m praying that you like the series, because it’s getting closer to the end. Leave a comment to make me understand how it’s going, luv u <3

NA'VI WORDS: TANHI: Star; KARYU: Teacher; 'ITE: Daughter; kenten mì kumpay: a sense of being in an environment where you’re prevented from acting naturally or doing what you want to do; nga yawne lu oer: i love you

Character Cast: NEY'NARI: Your dead sister; IKEYNI: Your Mother; TSENTEY: Your Father; YÌMKXA: Your Ikran; ULEYTE: Your bestie; TUL'PEY: Your future Mate

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

"Does she know?" Lo'ak’s tone became serious for a moment. "No, not yet. I’ll tell her about that when the time comes. " "Our father will skin you alive,bro" said the youngest. " Probably…" The conversation turned to the end.

You had taken a basket of Spartan fruit and steamed Teylu; you would have liked to hear the conversation between Lo'ak and Neteyam but most of the words were a mix of Na'vi and that language you couldn’t understand. When you were ready you came out of the hut, you looked at the boys with a slight blush on your face. "I took what I came looking for… please, take the water…" You whispered with a thread of voice as you passed the two boys. You could see out of the corner of your eye that Neteyam had tried to touch your elbow when you passed in front of him, but he retracted his hand after his brother’s gaze fell on him. You didn’t give much importance to this detail, taking it for granted that he had made this choice in order not to make you feel further uncomfortable with his brother. When you returned to your family’s hut you noticed that your mother and Neytiri kept talking about some strange event they had faced when they were young; Jake arguing with your dad about warrior stuff while the one you recognized as Tuk and Kiri were talking to each other. You put the basket on the table and then you were invited by the little one to sit with her and her sister, at the beginning you were reluctant to approach them but then you had the courage to sit down with them; Kiri hadn’t looked at you most of the night while Tuk was anxious to meet you.

"I’m Tuktirey! You’re Neteyam’s friend, aren’t you? Your hair is so beautiful, wow!" the voice of the little girl was ringing but pleasant to listen to as she touched some of your braids, admiring the small jewels that were wedged between them. "I love your clothes and your jewelry! You are really beautiful, y/n!" she continued, making genuine and sincere appreciations on every part of you, only to be stopped by Kiri who could feel your slight embarrassment as you thanked little Tuk. "Tuk, if you keep this up, she’s gonna run like a hawk" said the girl who must have been about your age, as she touched Tuk’s braids, making her peel off slightly from you. "I am Kiri, but I think you know us at least by name, Neteyam never misses the opportunity to talk about us" her eyes rolled as if she already knew that 100% he had done it, in fact she was right. "Coincidentally he did it just today, It’s not like we had a lot of time together outside of class hours or formal events," you bit the corner of your mouth slightly as your eyes fell on the floor. Kiri noticed that there was something deeper, but remained silent to not make you uncomfortable, after all she had just met you.

At that moment the two young Sullys also entered the hut with some Dapophet leaves that contained the water all of you would need for the long night. The lanterns that were placed inside the hut began to light up with the arrival of the eclipse of the day, while the two boys took their seats near you and the two sisters.

Neteyam sat between you and Tuk, often holding her when she needed the affection of his older brother. You found out that Tuk was particularly close to Neteyam, you could tell by how she whined at the thought of going back to the Omatikaya clan without her brother, and how she complained that Lo'ak couldn’t braid her hair like Neteyam, or by her laments for how Lo'ak always prohibited her from following him into the woods. It softened you the dynamic between them, you could see yourself so much in Tuk, at least 'the old you', the one a little rebellious and mischievous, but endured by the older sister. You also laughed at the way Lo'ak was reprimanded by Kiri when he said something extremely stupid or when he appeared in the stories as a powerful warrior. After a long time you felt happy, you no longer had the burden of thinking about tomorrow or your duties, In one night, your shoulders shook thanks to those who until last month considered 'demons'. The thing that left you most enchanted was how Neteyam smiled and tried to keep all three brothers quiet, almost like a father to them. When it came your turn to speak you found yourself bickering with Neteyam, as he was too modest to be complimented on his skills or improvements; Sometimes you two find complaining and contradicting eachother about some funny scenes that happened while you were training, like the fact that he almost drowned that morning while trying to stay under the water as long as possible.

Suddenly Tuk opened her mouth to talk, drawing your attention. "Neteyam, you and y/n are mated? Becaus-" Lo'ak plugged Tuk’s mouth with Teylu, getting a tender pout from the little girl. "Tuk, you’re talking too much, eat something" Lo'ak said embarrassed as Neteyam blushed and looked slightly away as he scratched the back of his head. "No, just friends. We’re just friends, Tuktirey" you said smiling, while Lo'ak held back a smile that was certainly containing a laugh. Your eyes shook him in the moment, while Kiri had managed to connect the dots in her mind. Kiri looked first at Neteyam and then at you, noticed how the brother swallowed in embarrassment and tried to hide the blush on his cheeks, and how you looked at Lo'ak badly for his expression and embarrassed smile. The marks on Neteyam’s chest and the small scratches behind his back, and then he noticed some hickeys in the upper thigh and closer to your intimacy. She nodded in silence, while a dark veil covered her face after realizing, feeling bad for you, since most likely you did not know yet. "Friends? You seem so close though" Tuk said with his mouth still full, as Lo'ak sighed with relief as he hadn’t mentioned that little detail that only Neteyam could have told you. "is because I am his Karyu, in this month he spent more time with me because of the lessons that with the other Na'vi of the village" Neteyam’s head nodded agreeing.

The evening continued along the same lines: funny stories, Tuktirey insisting that you and Neteyam were a couple, Lo'ak and Neteyam trying to silence her in their strange language and Kiri maybe contemplating death and then talking to you gently. Towards the end of the evening, the Sullys went to sleep in Neteyam’s hut, as they would leave the next day late in the afternoon. You were happy to have met the Sullys, you had discovered how they were simply Na'vi with their flaws and merits; it made you laugh as Jake seemed so trained when Neytiri spoke over him or corrected his grammar, you found them tender… Now that you were lying in the part of the hut dedicated to you, you couldn't help but smile as you looked out of the window hole, still lying on your carpet, talking quietly to the stars and the wind. This was something you often did when you needed to vent both positively and negatively, it made you feel so close to your sister, and you hoped she would hear you tell her about your experience with the Sullys. A gentle breeze came into your room and made you smile, thinking it was Ney'nari’s answer, interpreting that breeze as your sister’s encouragement to move on and continue to bond with that family you were afraid of before and disgusted with.

"Y/n… y/n, are you awake?" a voice coming from outside made you get up from the ground and look out the window, and then notice Neteyam looking for something on the ground, as to hit the window to attract your attention. "I’m awake. What are you doing here at this hour?" you said noting the late hour. Neteyam’s face rose and smiled as he looked out the window. "I told you, I can’t sleep if you don’t say good night, Ma Tanhì," his voice was slightly lowered, so as not to attract the attention of sleepers in the village. He approached your window, albeit slightly higher from where he was. "Skxawng, go to sleep. If they found you there they would skin you" you whispered, trying to make your voice heard only to him. You had to hold back a smile for that gesture as foolish as it was sweet, which had particularly impressed you. "Then say good night, so I have quiet dreams." His eyes chained to yours, watching the little smile that was born on your face. "Goodnight, 'Teyam," you said quietly as you put your cheek on the palm of your hand, noting how happy and uplifted Neteyam seemed after your words. "Good night, ma eywa," you blushed when he called you "Eywa," you didn’t expect it and he knew it. He looked up to you as you smiled like a carefree child thanks to him. After seeing you smile like this, he would surely have had more than golden and serene dreams.

Your gaze fell on him again, his eyes open as he watched you as if you were his entire universe, so much love in those golden eyes that made you blush and smile. You looked at each other in silence for a few minutes, while he was mimicking you with sweet words that you could understand even without hearing his voice. "ma eywa, sweet dreams… nga yawne lu oer" The boy’s voice made all the love and adoration he felt for you, making you smile. You sent him a kiss with your hand, which he took theatrically and carried to his heart, doing the same with you before leaving. Now your back was leaning just below the window, while your hands were resting on your chest, at heart level, squeezing that flying kiss that Neteyam had left you. Neteyam had become the cure you needed after all the years you spent hiding your unhappiness from the world; small gestures like these simply brought you closer to that precipice that was love. You should have been afraid, you were a woman already mated for years, soon the rite of Tsaheylu with Tul'pey would have come, but your mind was poisoned by Neteyam. You fell asleep with a sweet smile on your face, asking Eywa to pass the night quickly so that you could see Neteyam again as soon as possible, you were already missing his sweet touch and scent.

Eywa welcomed you into the dream world and granted your wish, bringing the morning quickly. When your eyes opened, the rays of the two suns hit your face, and for the first time it didn’t even bother you. You got out of bed with a smile on your face and when your parents saw you so sunny they were strangled, they smiled at you and you needed some berries and fruits that they had gone to get from the shed. "Ma'ite, today you shine more than the suns." Your father’s voice made you smile and nod as you savored the sweet juice of the Yovo fruit. "It’s true, what delights your heart so much, ma'ite? We haven’t seen you like this for years." Your mother continued, before passing a hand through your braids and giving you a maternal smile. It was true, Ney'nari’s death had marked you in everything: the smiles were false and if they were true you noticed with how much weakness you held them in face; your character more off and calm to emulate that of your sister, totally making you another person; the way you seemed to sprinkle joy and tranquility made them think for a moment that their sweet, rebellious and old y/n was back. "It’s just a beautiful day, no big deal." You whispered with slight blush on your cheeks as you squinted under your mother’s caresses.

After breakfast, you changed your clothes and rushed out of your hut, hoping to see Neteyam soon. You arrived in front of his hut and welcomed by Tuk, who had apparently just woken up, but did not deprive you of her sweet welcoming smile. "Looking for Neteyam? he went to the village with Lo'ak a little while ago" Her sleepy voice made her even more tender, made you think if Neteyam had the same tenderness as a child. " Thank you Tuktirey" You answered her and then laid a hand on her head, slightly upsetting her braids, while she laughed softly. You thanked Tuk before going to the center of the village to look for the two brothers. You met Lo'ak right away, and he seemed quite insistent on not letting you go looking for Neteyam, not understanding why he was so ambiguous. "Lo'ak, please, let me go find Neteyam" you said gently, repeating yourself several times before abruptly departing from him, following the sound of two voices, one of which sounded vaguely like Neteyam’s. Once you got to where the voices came from, you could distinguish Neteyam’s shoulders and back, but not with whom he was speaking, even though the female voice was unequivocal. "Shit, I tried to stop her…" Lo'ak said once he reached you, spinning Neteyam and showing the figure of a beautiful and tall Na'vi, with long black braids adorned with feathers and flowers typical of the forest; Her clothes were obviously well-made, and you could tell she was of a high status other than that she was definitely a warrior. Your eyes passed from her to Neteyam, failing to understand who Na'vi was close to him.

"Who's she?" Your voice was slightly absent as you looked Neteyam in the eye, looking for sincere answers, but reading only embarrassment and fear in those golden pools. "'Teyam, w-who is she?" you repeated again, not understanding why he didn’t answer right away, and why he wasn’t reassuring you "MaTanhì… she is…" His voice was broken as he searched for words he could not find. Your heart beat in your throat as you felt Lo'ak gently take you by the wrist, as if to take you away from there. "His mate. I am Reyin'al te Sxeke Ninat'ite…" Replied proudly the woman who before was behind Neteyam and who now wrapped her hands around his arm. "… Tsakarem of the Omatikaya" The surprise crept into your gaze, your eyes widening in disbelief before the stark reality that was revealed before you. "Tsakarem of the Omatikaya…" You yanked your wrist from Lo'ak’s grip, as if to get rid of it. Your heart seemed to have stopped like your breath, your eyes that were before on the woman, now they returned to the face of Neteyam who did not have the courage to look at you.

All the happiness that was before in your body evaporated like water under the scorching sun, your eyes went out of disbelief and it hurt you that Neteyam now didn’t even look you in the eye, giving you a tacit statement to what the girl had said. You would have wanted him to say 'No, it’s a misunderstanding' or something to cheer you up, but he didn’t. You searched in vain for his gaze for endless seconds, and then you tightened your jaw and nodded at the Na'vi who answered you, and then you turned around and left as your heart fell apart. You heard footsteps behind you following you, but you didn’t turn around for a second, because you knew if the steps were Neteyam’s, you would collapse in front of him. You found yourself immersed in a whirlwind of emotions as you ran away from him, a tumultuous tornado that tore your soul apart. A wave of pain swept over you, like a fist to the chest that left you breathless. Your heart, first filled with joy, broke into a thousand pieces, leaving a deep wound burning inside you while. The feeling of emptiness warmly welcomed you, as if something essential had been ripped from you. Anger enveloped you like a burning fire, a flame that blazed in the depths of your being. The bitterness is mixed with tears running across your face, cursing you for not being strong enough to hold them. The confusion struck you, and along with it the overlapping questions in your mind, looking for an answer that can make sense of what you heard. You felt lost in a maze of conflicting emotions, unable to find a way out. Sadness envelops you, a heavy mantle that oppresses you and makes you feel deaf to the words of the boy who was following you. Your world has fallen with such speed that even your certainties were dissolved.

A warm hand but too strong to be Neteyam’s kept you from running away. Once you turned to the owner of the hand you noticed that the person who followed you was Lo'ak, and a sense of desolation covered your face. "Y/n… I tried to-" Lo'ak’s voice snapped when he noticed your shiny, slightly red eyes, immediately realizing he had no excuse. " He would have told you… he was waiting for the right moment." He said before he looked away from you, lest you feel uneasy at the tears that streaked your face without your will. You swelled your chest several times, trying to regain the gift of the word, which had been taken away from you by that storm of emotions that had exploded in you. " Isn’t it too late for that? He had plenty of time to talk to me about her." Your broken voice made an idiot hear the boy in front of you, as if anything in his brother’s defense would be in vain. "Y/n.. I understand, I tried to keep you from looking for Neteyam because of that, because I knew he wanted to talk to you first," he continued, letting go of your wrist. "If so, he would be in your place now." Your tone was sour and poisonous, to this statement of yours Lo'ak did not know how to respond without looking like a complete idiot.

He knew you were right, you were absolutely right to feel that way and to be angry. Before he snapped to follow you, the look of Neteyam watching you leave gave him the courage to do what his older brother couldn’t. He was sure Neteyam would tell you, he wasn’t a liar, you could trust him and his word, but Reyin'al’s sudden arrival had ruined all the plans. Neteyam had never loved Reyin'al, they had grown up together, known by the whole clan as the two strongest and most admirable warriors, Mo'at had paired them from an early age saying that their union would bring greatness to the Clan. Despite this, Neteyam had always seen Reyin'al more as a friend than a mate, he had grown up with the love stories of Neytiri and Jake and dreamed of meeting his soulmate like them. He had always felt too close in that relationship, so much so that he had never really tried to make it work, he wanted to try 'true love', fight to meet it and have a sweet ending like his mother’s. Neytiri had always supported his son’s dream, clashing with Jake who agreed with the decision of the elderly Tsahik, reminding him several times that she was destined for another man but still chose her partner. And Neteyam had finally figured out how his mother felt about her father when he saw you, falling in love with you day by day.

"Just yesterday he was under my window, sending me kisses and sweet words, and then…. receiving this poisoned knife. Don’t tell me you’re gonna tell me because I don’t believe a word of it." You hissed before you walked away from Lo'ak, hearing him say something remotely like "Kenten mì kumpay…" Blood was boiling in your veins for trusting him. The pain spread in you like a fire burning in your chest, a feeling of weight that oppresses your breath. Every beat of your torn heart seems to recall the bloody wound that made you lose your breath, a excruciating pain that spreads in every fiber of your being. Feeling you vulnerable as your knees found peace on the grass, near the precipice where it faced the sea.

A reluctant hand landed on your shoulder as you growled. "Lo'ak, go away." Your tone was high, it was releasing all the pain that was building up in you. "Ma Tanhì… I-" You walk away from that delicate touch as if you were struck with burning iron when you realized that voice belonged to Neteyam and not to Lo'ak.

Neteyam had found the strength to follow you and his brother only after a few minutes of derealization and shame, but when he managed to reach you you were already gone and it was Lo'ak who showed him the way to find you. His remorseful look was on your back, hoping to see your face and explain the situation. "Go.away." You spelled it with clenched teeth, giving him your back as you wiped away tears that seemed not to want to stop coming out of your eyes. He swallowed, taking a long breath to start talking. "Ma Tanhì… let me just explain, please" His voice was broken as he tried to explain himself, seeking your consent to speak. You rose from the ground and looked him in the eyes with contempt and disappointment, your shiny and slightly swollen eyes destroyed him more than your words could. You shook your hands in a fist to try to condense your anger as Neteyam’s gaze became increasingly guilty.

"Explain? What do you want to explain. You have a partner and you didn’t tell me." Your words hit her skin like arrows. "You knew about Tul'pey, and you didn’t tell me about that 'Reyin'al'." Your voice was filled with hate as you yelled at him against words that scratched his skin and soul. "I wanted to-" you stopped him with a wave of your hand, and then growled at him. " You lied. You lied and deceived me." Neteyam’s jaw twitched as he listened silently. "You made promises." You started pushing him backwards.

The tension was now palpable in the air, not the usual pleasant tension, a destructive and cramped. Your eyes burn with anger and disappointment, your hands hit hard on his chest making him back, trying to vent all his frustration and pain in one blow. Driven by the anger and wound that had crept into your heart, you struck his chest at other times, letting each blow be a cry of protest against his actions. Each punch, slap or push was accompanied by sharp words, screams of pain and growls that intertwined with your anger. But unlike Tul'pey, Neteyam accepted your desperate cry and took each blow in silence, letting you vent on his body if it would help you feel better. "I hate you. I hate you, Neteyam. I hate you with all my heart," you yelled at him in the face as you held back every tear, as your fingers sought a foothold on him, scratching his chest before pushing him again. He wanted to hug you and let you cry over him, but he understood that now your wound was still fresh and bleeding brutally.

"I want you to leave. Now. Never come back. Go away with your parents today. I don’t want to see you again." You said to then walk away from him, while your hands were still shaking from the rush of emotion that passed through your body. "Go away. Take away your promises and your partner. I put myself at risk for you…. and you ruined everything! " This time Neteyam’s hand approached you, and then was struck by your hand. "Everything I said, I really meant it. Every promise, every compliment, everything was true… She's not you. I never wanted her, I want you, ma Tanhì…" Your eyes still looked at him with disgust as your heart betrayed you by beating so hard for those words. " You lied. You’re a liar. I don’t believe you." You answered with clenched teeth, before screaming to relieve the tension. "I didn’t lie to you… please, ma Tanhì, listen to me." His voice was broken as he tried to get close to you, being rejected. He felt guilty, he promised never to make you cry again, love you and make you happy, but now he was holding in his hands the pieces of your broken heart. "Go away. I said you have to go away!" You yelled at him, his eyes lowered to the ground. He didn’t know whether to listen to your request and let you go or be deaf to your voice and insist on his position.

Neteyam took a deep breath, approaching you and taking your arms, looking you in the eye. "Ma Tanhì, listen to me and if you want I’ll leave. I never wanted to be with Reyin'al, we have been mated all our lives, without choice. I fell in love with you, just you and every aspect of you. I feel horrible, a monster, seeing that I hurt you so much, it was not my intention… I swear to Eywa" A tear twisted Neteyam’s face and laid his forehead on yours. You took a deep breath, repressing all those feelings sent from your still bleeding heart and growled at him. " I would have told you, I swear, I would have… Reyin'al came unannounced and ruined everything, believe me. Let me fix this… I-" "Do not touch me. Don’t touch me anymore." You said growling, then try to get away from his grip. "I'm begging.. Don’t reject me" he whispered in a tone of voice that died in his throat and let all his pain shine through, but also the desire to keep you close. "Go to your partner. Just go." you made sure to spell the words, then feel his hands let go and hesitate before leaving. " Go. GO AWAY!" you yelled at him again, clenching your jaw and struggling with the conflicting feelings that were being born in you.

It was clear that Neteyam wanted to continue the speech, you could read it in his face: his shiny eyes that hesitated on your hands and then your eyes, as his jaw twitched, the way his tail sent you specific signals, or the way his voice died in his throat. He accepted your request and disappeared into the forest, while you dried your tears and your hands spoke the cold ground beneath you, as if to seek some comfort. You wanted him to stay, but at the same time you wanted him to leave; to kiss you, but you wanted to hurt him, to hear his words, but you were deaf. You spent a few hours in that place, letting nature embrace and welcome you, remembering that you could ask for advice and receive comfort from your sister by making Tsaheylu with one of the voices trees that was placed just a short distance from there. You needed guidance and someone who understood your emotions, so who better than your sister to help you figure out the way to go?

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