#me thinking about be kind by halsey

[haeryna]

feeling so high but too far away to hold me ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ;༊

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summary: satoru and suguru come to a critical conclusion, but is it too late for them to mend what was broken?

tw: angst, homophobia, abandonment, mentions of (unintentional) self harm, mentions of illness, barely proofread

notes: title taken from halsey's "without me." all images were taken from pinterest and are NOT mine! i'm not sure if i like how this came out but oh well gotta get through it lol. banner is from @/cafekitsune!

Lately, Satoru has been thinking a lot more about you.

He shouldn't be. Choso's been on his ass for stupid mistakes, like a slight misstep during practice, or the way his voice wavers ever so slightly on notes that are well within his vocal range. Nanami grumbles a bit more when recording sessions extend even further. Haibara brings him an extra water bottle during practice. Even Sukuna is slightly nicer to him, as if he can see how much Satoru is struggling.

Satoru hates it. It makes him feel weak, because he knows now that he misses you more than his heart can bear. He has women throwing themselves at him left and right, so why does a girl from a town he left behind make something in his chest twist? By all accounts, Satoru is thriving. He has a wonderful relationship with his boyfriend, his boy group has broken record after record with each single they release, and Satoru has just signed onto a brand deal with Chanel.

(He knows you're not just a girl, you were his. The only person he could bear to share Suguru with, the only person who could see past his flirtatious facade and say, "It's okay, 'Toru, I'm here for you." He knows the reason why he forces himself to believe you would have only shunned him like his parents, is to run from the realization that he abandoned you in the most horrific way possible.)

It doesn't help that his managers handle all of his social media accounts, and go through all his mail. As soon as him and Suguru signed onto the same agency, their phone lines were decommissioned, and they were given highly protected personal phones. You wouldn't be able to reach him even if you wanted to. Hell, they barely even saw Shoko, and the only reason was because they were both the only people who trusted her to take care of their medical needs.

Suguru had tried, once, to ask about you, to get a way of contacting you. Shoko had looked him dead in the eyes, steel hidden behind soft brown, and told him that, "if you were just going to abandon her like that, at least have the decency to stay gone until they could commit to her fully." The way Suguru's face had paled only confirmed the worst for Satoru; you hadn't understood. You had seen their leaving as the worst kind of betrayal. Shoko had refused to tell them more, stubborn in her loyalty to you.

At first, it was easier to hide shame behind a kind of disdain. Of course you hadn't understood what it had been like, being rejected so violently by parents you once loved. Of course you hadn't understood what it was like to feel the noose tighten around your neck until you knew you would either run, or die. Maybe if you couldn't let them go, it meant you truly had never loved them anyways.

As the months grew, slowly and surely, the tangle of excuses unraveled. You might not have understood, but you had defended him silently in small rebellious ways. The eyeshadow palette that still sat at his vanity. The birthday card you'd made him when you turned 14, with a small rainbow under the phrase "I'll love you no matter what." You too had felt the noose; you'd spent years fighting it, fighting your hatred of the small town you were forced to grow up in. "Satoru, Suguru, Shoko," you would tell them, "one day we'll all move out of here into the nicest, fanciest apartment in the city."

Grief was love with nowhere to go, and in that particular moment, Satoru found your absence particularly painful. Sighing, he stretches, resting his chin on the back of the couch to stare at the clock. 12:36; Suguru was probably still awake. Quietly, Satoru pads to the spare room in the apartment he shares with Suguru that they'd converted into their music and production room. Unsurprisingly, he finds Suguru perched on an old barstool they thrifted, gently strumming the strings of the guitar you'd gifted him so long ago.

"Satoru," Suguru says softly, pausing. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

Wordlessly, Satoru wraps his arms around him, nuzzling into the slope of his neck. After a few moments, he speaks.

"I miss her."

He can feel the way Suguru stiffens slightly in his arms, before exhaling, tension releasing from his shoulders. "I miss her too. I've been thinking, Satoru."

"That's dangerous for you," Satoru chides, and Suguru rolls his eyes fondly.

"You're such a brat. I've been thinking, what if we went back?"

Satoru blanches, staring at Suguru. "What?"

"Not permanently," Suguru hastily amends, knowing how deep Satoru's scars run. "Just enough to...I don't know, Satoru. We messed up really badly. I know there's a large chance she won't even be there anymore. She used to always tell us about how she couldn't wait to move to the city. But we can at least start there, right?"

The news of Satoru's hiatus caused enough ripples for even you to notice it. Despite the fact you avoided anything to do with both his and Suguru's music career, every news outlet, radio channel, and social media post had something to say about it. Hell, you couldn't even open the local newspaper without seeing his face plastered on it, lamenting his temporary break from the group's next comeback.

Frowning, you slam the kitchen cabinet door a bit harder than necessary. Why should you care? If anything, you should be gloating with this piece of information, that not everything was perfect in Gojo Satoru's idol career. Yet, a small part of you still worried. Was he eating alright? Did something happen to Suguru? Should you call Shoko?

The door chimes, startling you out of your thoughts. Your parents are back in the hospital undergoing another round of treatments but they could have came back early. Sighing, you walk over to the door, opening it without a second thought.

"Hi, what-"

In that moment, you feel several emotions. Regret, that you hadn't checked who it was before opening it. An odd blend of concern and fear; why had they come back, was something horribly wrong? Most overpoweringly, was the deep sense of anger that welled up inside of you, seeing both Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru standing on your doorstep.

"You're here," Sator- Gojo, breathes, crystalline blue eyes greedily drinking in the sight of you. He reaches for you, but you flinch back.

"What are you doing here?"

You're surprised to see that Gojo seems hurt by that statement. Sugu- Geto steps closer. "We wanted to see you."

"Oh, so a whim?" You can't help the harshness of your voice, or the way that your voice trembles ever so slightly. "Its been years, Geto. Five years since you left, and you come back now? What am I, just an afterthought? I already knew that but my god you're such an asshole."

"That's not what I'm saying," Geto sighs, and you want to throttle him. "We missed you so much, I can't even-"

You can't help but cut him off, fists clenched and hot tears pooling in your eyes. "You could have left a note. You could have left me an address, could have reached out once you settled in, anything!"

It's Gojo's turn to speak, hands fidgeting as if he wants to pull you close. "Our managers-"

"I don't care!"

A hush falls after your outburst, and you can't help the tears that slip down your cheeks. "Did I really mean that little to you? I would have left with you, I would have done anything for you, so don't you dare try to come up with an excuse. Don't try to tell me that your managers stopped you. I loved you." Your voice breaks. "How could you?"

Both men look ashamed. Geto is the first to speak. "We thought you would have moved away. We lost our original numbers, and Shoko refused to-"

Your eyes flash. "Don't try to blame Shoko for this. Unlike the two of you, she stayed with me."

Gojo flinches. "That's not fair. We didn't have a choice, why can't you see that?"

A sardonic laugh escapes your lips. "See what? All I see is the choice you made in leaving me behind."

"What happened to you?" Geto breathes, and you fight the urge to slap him. "You were so adamant that you would get out of this town."

"Well I can't," you hiss. "Not all of us can abandon their loved ones without a second thought."

Gojo's face looks like you've just shattered his world. "You never left?"

Something in the way he says that breaks something inside of you. "Mom and Dad have whatever Grandmother had," you tell them. You're not even sure why you're saying this, but there's a sick sense of pleasure in watching it start to sink in. "There's nobody else to help take care of them. Whenever she can, Shoko will try her best to stop by."

"You've been alone," Geto murmurs, horrified.

Venom fills your mouth. "I have been since I was sixteen, thanks for asking. You think I didn't notice that you two were together? You never even said anything to me and I still figured it out." Gojo's face pales but you plow forward. "It was always Satoru and Suguru, Gojo and Geto, but what about me? I was there too, wasn't I?" Blood drips down your palms; you're digging your nails in hard enough to cut. "You two forgot about me. You discarded me, left me behind. Did you really think so little of me? Did you really think I would treat you like everyone else in this town?" You can see the pain in Geto's eyes. "As if it wasn't enough, I had to see you everywhere. It's nice seeing how quickly both of you replaced me with other women."

Gojo calls your name but you shake your head, vision blurring. "Go fuck yourself, both of you. Don't talk to me. I wish you'd never come back." Whirling back inside, you slam the door, ignoring the frantic banging and shouts. As you sink to the floor, you finally allow yourself to sob, curled up against the solid wood doorframe. I thought it was over, you think miserably. But somehow it hurts more than the day they left.

#haerinwrites #idol!satoru gojo #rockstar!suguru geto #satoru gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #suguru x reader x satoru #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #jjk angst #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 6

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.  

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 16.7+

A/N:  I swear I don’t start writing chapters with the intention of making them like this. The next chapter is probably going to be smaller because I get so much anxiety giving you guys these big beefy chapters. This chapter is HEFTY and full of angst. There are more one-on-one interactions with the crew members to start bringing everything together. I'm not going to lie, I struggled a lot writing this week because I started to think my writing was trash. I know it’s not necessarily true but ya. I prevailed enough to bring you this. As always, thank you, guys, for all the love and support. For always being so kind and loving my story as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

P.s. This chapter is sponsored by not really  Halsey’s - Ya’aburnee 

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Previous Next

The background noise that rose and fell in octaves around you told you that they were all still talking; still arguing. Usopp disappeared to find Luffy who you could only guess was inside that damn kitchen. Nami continued to try and talk sense into Zoro who ignored every word she said by lazily running his swords over the wet stone he’d placed on the galley’s island. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Nami was struggling to keep her voice calm but she was losing. She’d looked over at you more than a few times since you’d all evacuated to the ship to help her, but what could you magically say to make Zoro change his mind? He didn’t seem like a man who responded to pleading or demands. 

He strongly held on to his beliefs. They were a system that guided him; molded him into the pain in the ass he was now. While you watched him continue to tune Nami out it was easy to see the dedication he’d given over the years to become who he was even at a young age. 

Behind all that arrogance was a determination that sliced just as sharp as his blade. Zoro knew who he was and what he needed to do to succeed, and that was more than you could say for yourself at times. 

So…who were you to get in the way of his dream?

The answer to that was as startling as a slap to the face. You were the woman who’d fallen hopelessly in love with him, and he hadn’t even realized it yet.

While you wanted to remain steadfast and devoted to the belief that Zoro had a chance and that the probability of him defeating Mihawk was high, the realistic part of you sounded like Naan. 

“Get those foolish thoughts out of your head, girl.”

For once, you wanted to swat away all of her cynicism. All of her realism forced you to fight to still believe in magic and the good in the world around you outside of science and facts. You wanted to believe that Zoro knew what he was doing and that he was strong enough to beat a grown man almost half his age. 

The other part of you, however, howled on the inside for you to stand up and go to him. To take his face in your hands and demand that he look at you and not turn away. Zoro didn’t respond to pleading, but it didn’t keep your own cries from weighing heavy on your tongue. 

Don’t do this. Stay with me. Make a new dream - with me. 

All your life Usopp and you imagined what it would be like to get off the island. To put Syrup Village behind you, all the pain and unknowns that never received answers. You could both leave on your own adventures and replace all the painful memories with ones aboard ships and the open seas of possibilities. 

You never imagined you’d meet people like Luffy or Nami. Like him. 

Looking at Zoro now as he dragged his sword over the stone one last time you felt your heart sink. Zoro had placed all three swords neatly on the table and took his time giving them adequate deadly attention. He didn’t seem bothered that you and Nami were in the room and sheltered out anything she tried to tell him. 

Nami was begging in her own way. What could you possibly say that would change his mind? She was looking at you now, as your arms wrapped so tightly around yourself - constricting the breath from your lungs making it impossible to formulate words. You were holding on so tight because you knew if you let go, you might run to him. 

“Doc-“ the sound of her calling you jolted you out of your thoughts and back into the present. Back to where you didn’t want to be. Nami was flying her eyes like a whip from you and back to Zoro as if you needed help knowing where to direct your pleas. “Is there anything you want to add here?”

Fuck 

Zoro looked up. He actually looked up from what he was doing to look at you. Shit. Did he want you to say something? Or did he just want to know if you were going to be another obstacle in his way?

“I-“  I don’t know what to say. 

What did she expect you to say? Everything you wanted to say wasn’t meant to blurt out in front of her or anyone else. You were still trying to process that you were admitting to yourself that all the feelings you felt weren’t just indigestion. That it wasn’t just the liquor from the fishbowl that made you wish you’d laced your fingers in that moss-green hair and kissed him. 

Luckily for you, Usopp came running back into the galley which told you all that Luffy was right behind him. 

“Oh great you’re here. Maybe you can convince him to call it off.” 

Zoro had gone back to examining one of his swords and making sure it was ready for the morning. He looked so deep into the edge of the katana you wanted to ask him if it was like a magic mirror and what did he see? Did he see a victory inside that blade as he polished it? Or did he see something much darker? 

“I won’t do that.”

“Did you not see the size of that guy’s sword? He will slice you into sashimi.”

“What’s going on?”

“I have been trying to figure that out for the last thirty minutes,” you huffed. 

Your words only earned you an exasperated look from Nami. 

“You were there when it happened!” She shot back, her voice incredulous. 

“And I am still struggling to comprehend how we went from zero to a thousand in less than a minute.”

You hated this entire thing. The tension radiated like a volt of electricity between all of you. One minute, you felt fine, or as fine as you could be in this situation. The next, the anxiety from Usopp or Nami would set you off or you would completely close down like the indifference Zoro was currently showing all of you. 

“I’m even more lost now,” Luffy muttered.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your big, bad Marine grandpa sent a warlord of the Sea to bring you in, and instead of getting the hell out of here when he had the chance, Zoro challenged him to a duel.” 

“Which he accepted.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Usopp muttered to Luffy. 

Usopp looked as nervous as you felt. Your body finally removed itself from the booth in the galley to stand beside him, linking yourselves arm and arm. 

While Nami spoke, Zoro sheathed his sword and placed it back on the island. His arms extended out as he leaned his hands against it, his eyes boring a hole into Nami as she spoke. 

“You are a fly to him. Something to be swatted and forgotten.”

“Not if I win.”

“You’re not going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

Your hand fell down to grab at Usopp’s and squeezed it lightly. Big brown eyes turned to look at you and, whatever he saw reflected in yours, was enough to make him squeeze yours back. 

You knew Nami was trying to make a point. This dude was dangerous. He was a pirate warlord, for Christ's sake, but the idea of Zoro no longer existed…

No. No. You wouldn’t think it. Couldn’t. 

“Guys, guys, maybe we need more drinks,” Usopp offered. 

A part of you wanted to laugh. You could feel it bubbling up inside your chest but the wildness of it let you know it would come out panicked; a sound that displayed the current breakdown of your soul. 

No one else seemed to appreciate his attempt at lightening the mood.

“Tell your first mate he’ll get himself killed.”

“Tell your navigator to butt out.”

For once, Luffy looked lost. A look of childish uncertainty replaced the care-free nature that lived inside him. You hated seeing him so unsure, but he was the captain. He was your captain and these situations called for him to make the best decision for his crew. 

“Maybe this isn’t such a great idea, Zoro.”

“When you met me tied up on that cross, what did I say?”

Oh, no. No. You knew where he was going with this. Luffy telling you the story in this very galley came flooding back in crystal clear clarity. 

“What makes you think I wanna play pirates with you?”

“No, the other thing.”

“I kill your kind for a living?”

“No!” Zoro almost shouted the word. “Come…” A groan of frustration left him as he finally looked away from Luffy. The desire to get Luffy to remember consuming him - to remember why he needed to do this. 

And like a switch being flicked, a quiet, “Oh,” sounded beside you, and you knew Luffy remembered. 

“That you made a promise to someone a long time ago to become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“The only way to do that is to beat Mihawk in a duel and take his title. I intend to do just that.”

The words left him in a shout. All that determination rolled into a punch of syllables directed at Nami. At you. Anyone who tried to stand in the way of fulfilling that promise he’d made so long ago. 

“Can’t you just fight him without anyone dying?”

Your voice was sheepish, so small it barely carried over a whisper. Zoro wouldn’t look at you. You’d only earned a small flick of his attention before he replaced it back on the galley’s island. 

“To be the world’s greatest swordsman only one can live. There can’t be two-“

“Why not that just seems silly-“

“Because that is just how it is!” 

He’d dismissed you without a second thought. A teacher schooling an ignorant child who wasn’t privy to how the world works. You wanted to throttle him. 

“Even if you die in the process? Will you please do something?”

It hurt to see Nami so frantic. You were used to seeing her composed and smart. Maybe her anger when someone was doing something particularly idiotic. Never broken. Not like this. 

Luffy regarded Zoro one last time and when you saw the soft smile press a hard line into his lips, you knew any chance of getting him to change Zoro’s mind was gone. 

“It’s his dream, Nami. I can’t get in the way of somebody’s dream.” 

“What if I dreamed of being eaten by a sea beast what the-“

Usopp gently tugged on your conjoined hands to get your attention. His head shaking once to tell you now wasn’t the time to make jokes or be angry. Wasn’t it? 

“What’s it going to take, huh? You want me to say you’re the best? You’re the best. Okay? You’re the best I’ve ever seen, but you are not better than him. And if you fight him tomorrow, you’re going to lose.”

Every word she spoke threatened to make your knees collapse. You didn’t know anything about Dracule Mihawk, except his apparent love for overly large things. Big sword. Big hat. Big feather for said hat. There was no denying, however, the sheer power that radiated off him as he stood there unmoving while Zoro challenged him. The fact there hadn’t even been a glimmer of worry that shifted through his eyes told you plainly he was more powerful than you could imagine. 

And Zoro wanted to fight him. To the death. That manic laughter was beginning to bubble up again in your chest and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to keep it quiet this time. 

Zoro finished sliding his last sword home inside his sash as he asked, “Why do you even give a shit?”

“Because you are my friend, you idiot.”

“You said it yourself. You don’t have any friends.”

If this was something Nami ever spoke of, it wasn’t something she’d shared with you. Maybe it had been true before you’d all met each other, but that wasn’t true now. In that moment, it didn’t matter if she remembered you were all there or not. His words hit a scab deep inside her and pulled and picked until he ripped it open. 

Fresh blood from an old wound. 

This time you weren’t worried about accidentally saying anything. Warm fuzzy feelings were thrown to the back of your mind as your own blood thundered for you to come forward and defend her. 

“And you are acting like a Grade A asshole.” 

You released Usopp’s hand to take a step forward. You had every intention of going to her and seeing if she would allow you to stand beside her. You never got the chance. Nami’s eyes looked at each and every one of you- her supposed crew mates - just before she turned on her heel and left the room. 

Once she disappeared from sight it left only the four of you inside the galley. Luffy looked as if he was trying to process just what took place and Usopp, well, he was Usopp. He looked about as lost as you were in the grand scheme of things. 

Your eyes flashed to Zoro and found him already looking at you. His wrists hung loosely over the hilt of the sword as he regarded you. He didn’t soften as your eyes met his but seemed to harden further. A silent challenge for you to try and say something that he would only dismiss. 

“What was that?”

“I told her the truth.” 

“No,” you snarled. “You told her whatever was most convenient for you and your feelings. You want to go get yourself killed, Zoro. Fine. But don’t stand there and act like everyone is supposed to be happy about it.” 

“No one told you that you had to be here or that you were even wanted here.”

“Guys-“ Usopp interjected. 

Neither of you were listening. You could feel your eyes narrow in on him. The pain that had moments ago made it impossible to breathe now hardened into stone.  

“You better hope Mihawk kills you, Zoro because if not I’ll make you wish he had.” 

A part of you meant what you said. Your anger was a living thing at how Zoro used his words as an extension of his swords. Your skin felt like brimstone with the current of fire underneath ready to burst free and set him on fire with how fucking angry you were at him. The way he spoke to Nami. To you. And yet, underneath all that building rage was a fear so palpable you could taste the cold sweat on your tongue. 

You didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t wish him dead. You just wanted him to admit that his ghosts screaming for battle also scared him too. Instead, you were locked in a staring contest you knew you would lose. Zoro’s eyes hardened until he was a mask; unreadable and untouchable. While you knew at any minute your regret was moments away from making itself known. 

With one final look in his direction, you turned to storm after Nami. You needed to find her and make sure she was okay. She did have friends. She wasn’t alone like she apparently thought she was. 

You rounded the corner of the galley that led to Nami’s room. Usually, you would’ve knocked or done something to announce yourself. Naan raised you to be aware of everyone’s space and it was rude just to barge in but you weren’t thinking. You were brimming with too many emotions; too many thoughts that fought to be the clearest. So, when you barged into Nami’s room an apology was already forming on your lips. 

Until you saw her standing with a bag in hand. 

“Where are you going?”

The question hung between you like something fragile. Her own throat noticeably bobbed as she swallowed around something she was going to try and sell you. 

“I was just going out-“

“Don’t lie, Nami.” You moved the rest of the way inside her room and closed the door behind you. “No one carries around an entire suitcase just because.”

Her tongue rolled around the bottom of her lip before she turned away from you. You took note that she was still holding onto her suitcase. She wasn’t going to drop it, which meant however this went she planned on still leaving. 

You didn’t want another Zoro-style fight where insults were thrown to prove points or make someone hate you into letting them go. When she turned back to look at you, all the emotion was stripped from her and you prepared yourself for a fight. 

“Are you going to tell Luffy?”

A sigh pressed past your lips as you shrugged. 

“What am I going to tell him, Nami? You left because you got into an argument and someone said something you didn’t like?”

“Like I give a shit what Zoro or any of you think.”

“Is that why you’re worried I’m going to run and tell Luffy you’re leaving? Make it make sense.”

She turned on her heel and walked back over to a drawer she’d left slightly open. Her hand pushed it back hard before she turned back to face you. The hand that held her suitcase dropped unceremoniously on the floor. 

“I need to leave.”

“Why? Nami, If this is about what Zoro said you know it’s not true.”

“Who are you kidding, Doc? We never chose to be a crew. We were all thrust together by circumstances and just stayed together.”

“Usopp and I chose you guys.”

Hollow laughter escaped her like she couldn’t believe you’d claim this madhouse of a crew. Or maybe the joke was on you, and you just couldn’t see you were the butt of the joke. 

“You don’t get it-“

“Help me understand!”

“I had a job to do before I met Luffy. I completed it and I need to get back.”

“If that was true you would’ve left a long time ago.”

“Ugh, what is it with you? Why can’t you just accept that I’m leaving?”

“Because I don’t think you really want to go back,” you replied, cutting her off. 

The two of you stood there in a silent face-off. Deep down, you both knew that you were right. There were plenty of opportunities for her to leave and go back to whatever life she had waiting for her, but she’d stayed. Maybe it was because of convenience, at first, but somewhere along the line, it changed. 

Nami was happy being a straw hat. Whatever life she had previously was one she’d continue to run away from if she could, but something was calling her back. Whether it was family. Friends. Work. You would never know unless she told you. 

“What makes you so sure?”

“People who want to sneak away in the night don’t stay up showing a small town village girl maps they created in hopes of drawing a map of the world one day.” 

It was only a few nights ago when she had done it. You’d been unable to sleep. Your stomach was tossing like the waves outside the ship. You’d tried to make a tea to ease your stomach and it had failed miserably. Nami had found you curled up becoming one with the galley’s kitchen and gently peeled you from the table. In the very corner she stood in is where she’d sat with you under the light of a lamp and showed you every map she’d ever drawn.

“That’s just a dream, Doc.”

“It’s a good dream.”

She shook her head, her hand outstretched to take back the suitcase she'd discarded. 

“Dreams are just fairy tales for adults. It’s better if you get used to disappointment now than later.”

You wanted to reach out and grab her as she moved past you towards the door. You still had time to do it. To shake her - yell at her - that they didn’t hold the commodity on pain or a shitty life. Maybe you would never know what it was that Nami lost. She may never want to share with you that story of her life, and that was fine. You just wanted her to know she didn’t have to keep running. That you would help keep her dreams alive and safe as long as she wanted them. 

When you turned to follow her you found the door wide open and Nami gone. You could’ve chased after her, but it would only cause a scene. She’d made it clear she’d meant to run in secret - you finding out was an unexpected accident. A part of you wanted to tell Luffy so you could both go charging after her and make her come back, but Luffy would never make anyone do something they didn’t want to do. 

How could it be in less than a day everything had gone to shit? Zoro was so eager to die and Nami…Nami was just gone. With one last look around her room, you moved to sit in the chair she’d been in earlier. The sound of her laughing as you tried on clothes brought the ghost of a smile to your lips and you wondered if you’d ever get to hear it again. 

The Going Merry felt like a ghost ship. 

Somewhere in the bridge, you were aware Usopp had run to hide there as the after-hours of fun began to take its toll. Luffy disappeared outside the ship and you wondered if anyone had noticed yet that the ship was one straw hat less. 

You’d been sitting inside Nami’s room since she left, unable to leave just in case she’d changed her mind and came back. You wondered how long you could wait here before reality forced you to face it that the small family you’d chosen was falling apart. 

Not much longer if the rising hues of the sun’s blood-orange tint on the night sky had anything to say about it. 

With one last glance around the room, you headed back out onto the bridge. You didn’t know where to go. You didn’t feel like playing nursemaid, though you were sure Usopp would’ve appreciated the help, and you didn’t think you could keep quiet about a missing orange-haired girl if Luffy asked where she was. 

You were starting to feel your own hangover begin to creep in and one thing was for certain, you were going to need some coffee. 

Your footsteps sounded loud against the wood. The sound only reminds you of how empty the Merry had become. You pushed through the galley’s French doors and found yourself walking into a Zoro deep in meditation. It was something he usually did in the confines of his room sandwiched between his crates of rum and the small window that looked port side. You’d only ever seen him do it once on the stern of the ship in the early morning when no one was around. 

Not that you were staring or watching or anything.

All three of his swords were set on the hanging baby blue table in front of the window seat where he now sat. His bandana was secured to his head about as tightly as his arms were to his chest. His eyes were still closed and you thought, maybe you’d be lucky enough to turn around and run back to the bridge. You’d take your chances with Luffy. 

“If you’ve come to talk me out of the duel I’ll tell you right now. You’ll just be wasting your time.”

He growled out the words from somewhere deep in his chest. It croaked in places as if he’d been asleep and your presence had woken him. Zoro hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he didn’t need to see to know you were there. 

You’d come stomping in like a person ready to perform a verbal battle when all you wanted was some coffee and a little bit of calm before…

“I came for coffee not to tell you how much of an inconsiderate asshole you’re being.” 

That got his eyes to open and focus on you. You only spared him a moment before you made your way to the cupboards. You were just going to focus on getting a cup and what you needed to make your coffee. You weren’t going to acknowledge him.

Even as you reached the cabinets and started searching for the kettle, you could feel his eyes boring between your shoulders. It forced an irritation to set fire in your chest and that only seemed to grow worse until your hands were squeezing the iron of the handles. At any moment, you expected to see blood dripping from your palms. 

You let out a deep breath and tried to push away all the things you wanted to say. To scream at him. You found the kettle and focused on filling it up and turning on the stove because if you didn’t you would start yelling at him about how maddening he was. It was a good thing you had to look for the coffee grounds to steep them or else you would’ve burst with how petty he was; the bitchest man alive. 

If it wasn’t for making your damn coffee you would’ve crumbled into a sobbing mess as you struggled to find the words to make him stay. You were doing a pretty good job at ignoring him, but of course, Zoro could never just leave it alone. He always had to poke and prod and- 

“You seem to be struggling with that coffee.”

“And why does it matter to you? Are you suddenly in the mood to be caffeinated?”

“Just wondering how long it’s going to take for you to finish and get the hell out of the galley.” 

“Okay, that’s enough! Enough, Zoro!”

You hated how your voice betrayed you. The way it broke as his name left your lips. What you hated more was how he responded to the exact sound as it touched his ears. His body language was still rigid but he sat up straighter. His arms dropped down from his body to sit in his lap. 

“I get that this means something important to you. It’s a lifelong goal and you want to accomplish it, but how can you expect to accomplish anything when you push people away.” 

“I’ve accomplished plenty on my own before I ever meet any of you.”

“That’s fantastic. Great for you,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What I’m saying is, you don’t have to do everything alone anymore. We are all here for you-“

“Why do you even care? What was it you said, that I better hope Mihawk kills me or I’m going to wish he had.”

You knew saying that would come back to haunt you. How many times had Naan told you speaking out of anger never made a situation better? Zoro thought you’d said it because you hated him to the point you hoped he’d lose. 

“I only said that because you are being an ass.”

“I didn’t know you hated me enough to hope I died.”

“I don’t hate you, Zoro! And the last thing I want is to see you get hurt or worse fucking die. Why can’t you see what it would do to the people who care about you? Why can’t you see that I like you, you idiot!”

The words stumbled out before you could catch them. Your chest felt like it was on the verge of collapsing while your lungs refused to release the breath it held captive. It felt like a lifetime passed between the two of you, and yet you knew it was only seconds. It was long enough for the sting of tears to crown your eyes as you waited for Zoro to do something. Anything. 

What made it worse was how unmoved he appeared by your confession. Your words didn’t seem to cause any reaction from him other than his usual empty stare. The cool look of emotionless stone replaced the teasing sparks of mischief that gleamed in his eyes or the smiles that warmed his face when he was surrounded by his crew. 

You would’ve given anything for any emotion besides the empty reply you received.

“You don’t even know me.” 

“I want to know you, really know you, but first, I need the chance to do that. I can’t do that if you’re dead.”

“I’m not going to lose.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s obvious that you don’t believe in me. Like Nami. You both think I can’t do it.”

“Oh my god, Zoro - enough! We are just worried for you. We give a shit about you still being alive. I want to be able to wake up and hear your grumpy ass voice or find you drinking on the stern. I want to be able to have conversations with you while you begrudgingly go with me to forge ingredients and put flowers in my hair. I want to see you look at me the way you did standing alone on the Merry like you did tonight.” You took in a shaky breath as you took a cautious step toward his seated position. “You have infuriatingly crawled your way inside my bones, Roronoa Zoro, and have taken hold. I don’t want to know what life is like without you.”

Your breathing was fast and shaky as if you'd been running. It didn’t matter that the tears you’d struggled to contain fell freely down your cheeks or that your chest heaved, ready to cave in at any moment. 

You were vaguely aware of the Sun beginning to peak its way inside the windows. The timer on what could possibly be the last time you were with Zoro coming to an end. Maybe that was why when he moved to stand you allowed yourself to hope. You let yourself believe maybe your admission meant enough to make him stay, but you watched as he silently slid each katana into their holsters on his sash and it felt like the ground opened up and swallowed you whole. 

“Why can’t you just admit you have feelings for me?”

It was true that you didn’t know much about the world or how it works. You’d never been out of the village. Never had many friends outside of Usopp. The boys in the village are always ridiculous or sometimes cruel or just too stupid to look at. You imagined you had to be broken since all you’d cared about was becoming the greatest doctor you could be. So, maybe you’d read into the small glances too much or the way when you almost fell and he’d secured you close to him with his chin dipping into your neck. It was subtle but you felt it. 

People didn’t just do that when they didn’t like someone, did they?

Once he’d made sure everything was secured inside his sash, Zoro came around the table and walked until he stood beside you. He wouldn’t look at you and just kept looking at the battle ahead because now the sun had risen and he had a promise to fulfill. 

“I don’t give a shit about you.” His words stabbed into your chest and twisted. It felt worse than anything you’d ever felt; a storm cloud of emotions that darkened your mind. But underneath that, you could hear the tremor in his own voice as he forced himself to tell you. “You’re just another one of Luffy’s little add-ons to an already big enough freak show of a crew.”

“Why are you so scared to give a shit?”

“Scared of what?” This time when he snapped it whipped his head to look at you. The soft touch of his eyes hardened into something wild and desperate. “Of you?”

“Either you’re scared or you are a coward. Only someone who’s a coward can’t admit to the truth.”

“Or maybe you’re just delusional.”

Maybe you were. You didn’t know how the world worked. How people worked. You’d traveled into uncharted territory when Zoro began to worm his way inside your brain and hold your heart hostage. It was possible you’d only seen what you’d hoped to see. 

His jaw ticked to whatever irritated thought he had while he looked at you. You expected him to say something else. To finally tear you completely down until there was nothing left. Instead, he turned away from you and started towards the galley’s French doors dismissing you completely. 

You listened as he pushed through with the soft sound of the doors swinging on their hinges filling the space. You weren’t going to follow. You couldn’t watch him walk out knowing he may never come back. 

It felt like an eternity passed before you heard the first clash of blades outside the Merry. You were still standing where Zoro had left you. Unable to move, at first, in case you take that move forward and restart time. As if you had the ability to keep it suspended and him safe. 

It wasn’t until that ringing of metal scraping against metal resonated inside the wood of the Merry that your body jerked back into the present. You already knew Luffy would be there with Zoro; believing in him and cheering him on. Usopp too simply because he knew the power of what support could do for someone. 

And Nami…

Nami had to be long gone by now and you? You were here cowering inside the safety of a vessel so you didn’t have to see. The sound of a body colliding into the dock gave yours a jolt. 

Sure, Zoro had ripped out your heart after you’d admitted what you hadn’t been able to admit to yourself. You’d done it, selfishly, in hopes that it would keep him in the confines of the safety of the ship, but that wasn’t Zoro. 

He wasn’t about safety and backing down from anything. From the moment you’d met him, you’d seen the dedication he held when it came to his ability to fight. The fire drove him to consume and lay waste to those who stood in his way, but underneath the harshness of the fire laid something soft. He’d defended that little girl in the bar. He stood up for those who preyed on villages and mercilessly attacked women and children.

For all the drinking and hard-headed idiotic things Zoro could do he was one of the best men you’d ever meet. There wasn’t anything that Zoro hadn’t proved he could do. So, why couldn’t it be possible for him to beat Mihawk? 

With your mind decided, you pushed your back off the island counter and took off running at full speed. You would support him no matter what was shared between you. Zoro deserved it: he deserved to be believed in. 

You were going up and over the stairs to take the ramp down to the dock when you saw Mihawk stab something small into his chest. You could feel your knees buckle. The way your body went limp and forced your legs to collapse in on themselves as they smashed into the wood of the ramp. 

Zoro’s arms were spread out in Y shape. The edges of his swords barely missed the arm’s of Mihawk, the handles of his swords touching the design on his trench. He was close, but not close enough to do any damage and not far enough away from the small blade that Mihawk embedded deep in his chest. 

“No.”

Your denial came out in a hush and was carried away by the wind. 

Mihawk told him something. Maybe about retreating and forfeiting the match to save his life. It was enough to radiate rage through Zoro’s body and hardened his eyes with determination. 

Zoro would never run. It wasn’t in his character. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Nami approach the dock. She came to stand between Luffy and Usopp and for a split moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. Nami was back. The universe was working on fixing all the wrongs that happened in the last few hours.

Mihawk pulled the small blade from out of his chest and you watched as Zoro stumbled back. His swords helped him to stand back up on his feet to face him. 

“I’ll do you the honor of killing you with Yoru.”

No. No. 

The word almost clawed its way out of your throat. A possession so deep to halt time ached through your veins until you thought it was almost possible to do it. As if the very fabric of the air would rip open at any minute just to save him. 

You couldn’t miss the satisfied smirk that curled Zoro’s lips. 

“Now that’s more like it.” 

You watched as he unsheathed the Wado Ichimonji and brought it up to his mouth. His body stood straighter as he connected the two swords as one and began to spin them. You’d seen him fight plenty of times with just the two swords. The sheer strength he had just using them didn’t seem to compare to anyone else. You’d seen him use his three-sword style only once before and nothing compared to the sheer strength and speed that came from him placing that blade between his teeth. 

Hope blossomed in your chest as you watched him spin the swords. His body took off moments later as Mihawk moved to rush forward, meeting him in a clash that rattled like thunder from the impact. Zoro came to a sliding stop just feet in front of you. His swords still lifted up to deflect the blow from Mihawk’s blade before they crumbled to pieces in front of him.

Zoro locked eyes with you, your body mimicking his, as he removed the Wado Ichimonji from between his teeth. You could feel fresh tears streaming down your cheeks turning your vision blurry. With his eyes locked on you, he used it to help him get to his feet. 

If your voice would’ve worked you would’ve told him to stop. That he didn’t need to turn around but you knew he would. This was Zoro. The most infuriating man on the planet and honored bound to his beliefs. You clamored to get to your feet. To run to him to try and keep him from turning to face Mihawk. 

He must have seen it on your face. You were probably doing a terrible job of keeping your thoughts off your face. All the panic. 

A soft smile slid across his lips. It wasn’t big enough to crack his lips or show teeth. It never reached his eyes, but it didn’t have to. It was a smile just meant for you. His way of telling you it was alright; to soothe you before the final blow came.  

For one last fleeting moment, you looked at one another and you imagined yourselves back inside the ship. Zoro sitting in his hammock being his usual broody self while you clean up the wound on his chest. You could practically hear him mumbling some shit about you not being gentle against the lip of a newly opened bottle of rum. 

It felt so real that, for a split second, you thought it was. You’d been so caught up in your own daydream that you hadn’t realized he’d turned his back on you. Now he was facing Mihawk his arms spread open wide giving him a perfect kill shot of his chest. 

“Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame.”

“Magnificent.”

In one swift motion, you watched as Mihawk sliced through the air with his blade cutting perfectly through Zoro���s chest. 

“NO!”

This time you did find your voice and it was unhinged. All that panic you pushed to the side and all that hope you’d allowed yourself to blindly follow came crashing down like a wave. It strangled every last bit of feeling until all that was left was the crushing weight of despair. You were aware that Luffy was there at his side. You could hear him calling out to Zoro with his hands pressed at his body. 

You were sprinting down the last of the ramp and onto the dock. You couldn’t remember bending down to be at his side but your eyes could see him. It was Zoro but not the Zoro you were used to. 

Already he was turning ghostly pale as the wound continued to bleed. We have to stop the bleeding. There was so much blood and he was in so much pain. The wound Mihawk created went from the left shoulder down to the beginning of his sash. It was massive. Zoro’s breathing was shaky and would quiet down until you weren’t even sure if he was even taking in a full breath. 

You reached over to feel his pulse. It weakly flutters against your ring and middle finger as you press down. When you pulled away you noticed your forearm streaked with blood. 

“Monkey D. Luffy - what is your goal?”

“I’m going to become King of the Pirates.”

“King of the Pirates, eh? That’s a much more treacherous path than even defeating me.”

“I don’t care.” Luffy looked back at Mihawk. His usual determination in his voice, but it missed the warmth and it trembled with each word. Whether it was from anger or sadness you would never know. “It’s what I am going to do.”

“Hmm. Maybe you will at that. This world could use a few more wild cards. Roronoa Zoro, It’s too soon for you to die. Grow strong and come find me. I’ll be waiting.” 

You wanted to scream at him to go to hell. You wished you could send him there yourself, but Zoro was still alert. He was fighting and that meant maybe it was his fate to be the one to send the big feathered asshole there himself. 

You wanted to tell him that. To make a joke. You owed him the one about the Marine and the Pirate walking into a bar. You just couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Your hands were trembling violently every time you moved them to try and touch him. So, you clenched them down and kept them pressed into your thighs. 

Usopp came to kneel beside Luffy and Nami slowly made her way to stand next to you. 

“He’s losing so much blood. Doc, what should we do?”

What should we do? 

What were you supposed to tell them? You were the doctor. Their doctor. It’s why Luffy had asked you to join. It was your job to heal them and keep them well. 

Doc, what should we do? 

You should know the answer. You should be the one ordering them around and telling them what to bring you to start staunching the wound. 

“He’s gonna be okay. Hey Zoro, can you hear me? He said it was too soon for you to die.”

“Luffy-“

Fuck. Zoro sounded so weak. All the broody, snarky asshole comments that he’d made were full of life. Each word was rich with the baritone of his voice that dripped down your skin like honey. That same voice now barely rose above a whisper.  

“If I fail to become the world’s greatest swordsman…you’ll be disappointed. Right?”

Each word came out strained. With each breath, he fought to take through the gash in his chest. 

“You could never fail me.”

Zoro opened his eyes and looked over at his Captain. The pain began to make tears spring into his eyes and run down the corners. 

“Never. Again. From now until I beat him.” A grunt of pain burst from his mouth as he grabbed his body to the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji and lifted it up to the sky. His free hand covered his face as if he was ashamed. “To become the world's greatest swordsman I will never lose again!”

Zoro swore it with such conviction you expected him to stand up at any moment and walk himself back to the Merry. Your assessment was wrong, however, when he suddenly went limp with the sword and his arm crashing down against the dock. 

“Zoro?”

This time he was unresponsive. The blood pooling around his middle and seeping into the front of his gi blossomed into a flower that grew ever brighter with each passing second. 

“Doc!” Usopp shouted. It was enough to finally tear your eyes away from Zoro and focus on something else. “What do we do? You’re the doctor here.”

“Right.” The word came out in a huff through your nose. 

Your eyes scanned the scene that was laid out in front of you. It was time to be scientific about this. To focus on what was fixable in front of you and to put whatever feelings you had to the side. 

Why did that feel easier said than done?

They were still waiting for you to direct them. Six pairs of eyes equally as lost as you waiting for direction on how to save their crew mate -  their friend - in front of them. Your tongue lashed out to nervously wet your bottom lip as you scrambled to your feet. 

“We - we need to move him back to the ship. We have to stop the bleeding.”

“Okay, right good call, Doc,” Luffy offered as you all scrambled to grab a limb. 

“Just make sure that when we lift him we do it carefully-“

Luffy and Usopp didn’t wait for you and Nami to grab a hold of either leg. They just lifted and his legs flopped against the deck. 

“Jesus, she said to do it together and carefully!” Nami snapped. 

“I’m sorry I’m just nervous.”

Usopp was obviously as panicked as you. 

“It’s alright, let's just grab him and get him back to the Merry.” 

The four of you grabbed a hold of Zoro and this time smoothly picked him up. Luffy and Usopp carried his upper body and thank god he did. You weren’t expecting him to feel like you were trying to carry a sea cow. Scratch that. It felt like you were trying to carry a sea beast. 

The first steps you took were good, but by the time you started making it up the ramp back into the Merry, you were all struggling not to drop your end. 

“Easy! Easy! Jesus, be careful!”

Nami instructed the boys - mostly Usopp - as they took the last step down onto the bridge. 

“Guys. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold my end,” Usopp grunted. 

“We are almost there, Usopp. Just hold on.” 

“I’m trying but this guy is really heavy.”

To prove his point, Usopp started shuffling backward quicker than you expected. He shoved his shoulder into the double doors of the galley forcing you all to catch up with him. The movement causes you and Nami to bump into one another as you each hold on to one of his legs. 

“Easy. Don’t drop him!”

“I didn’t. He’s just heavy. I mean, he’s got a really big head. It’s, like, freakishly big.”

“Now is not the time, Usopp,” you grunted as you all moved to set him down on the island. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

The question came from Nami as she made her way around the galley’s kitchen. She was searching through cupboards at a furious rate and you didn’t have to ask what it was she was searching for. She’d heard you loud and clear about needing to stop the bleeding. You had some clean linens that were stashed inside your room. You should’ve gone for them, but suddenly, seeing Zoro lifeless on the island of the galley…you couldn’t recall any of your training. 

“Zoro? Hey, can you hear me?”

Luffy’s soft question was drowned out by Usopp asking where the first aid kit was. 

“Why would we need a first aid kit when we have a doctor?” Nami shot back. 

“That’s right. Doc, what are we doing?”

They were looking to you to direct them. You are the doctor. This was your time to shine to be able to prove that you were worth the space Luffy had offered you. So, why couldn’t you move? Your brain was moving at a thousand miles a minute and yet every time it landed on free space it came up empty. If it wasn’t empty, it was screaming that Zoro was dying and you weren’t going to be able to save him. 

Nami returned to the head of Zoro and was holding it in place. You weren’t sure why. The wound was on his chest. Usopp was now thrashing around the room looking for rags. 

“Doc!” 

This time Nami smacked your arm to get your attention. Your feet moved of their own accord to the edge of the island as you reached out and started peeling back the soaked fabric of his shirt. 

There have been times when you were daydreaming in the privacy of your room that you imagined peeling back Zoro’s shirt just like this. To expose the taut muscles underneath. In all of your daydreams, it was never like this. Not like this. 

A sharp hiss of air cut through your teeth as you exposed the large gash to the room. It was approximately two - almost three inches in width. The first and second layer of skin was severed leaving the third exposed and dangerously close to opening it to severe infection. 

“These towels are all I could find. Where’s he bleeding from?”

“Everywhere.”

“Nami, I need you to add pressure with the towels. I have to run to my room and get some supplies.” 

“Ok, but Doc hurry.” 

Asking for speed felt like an understatement. There wasn’t a soul alive inside that ship who didn’t realize that Zoro was beginning to show fewer and fewer signs of breathing. His skin was taking on a grayish tone like a corpse making his green hair look sickly against the grotesque hue. 

You didn’t bother telling her you knew he was dying. You just needed out of that room. 

Your feet carried you out of memory to your room which sat directly across the hall from Zoro. How many times had you gone to go inside your own room and paused, considering knocking on his just to see him leaning against his open door? The thought of never having the chance to make it a reality spurred you inside your room. 

You knew you were going to need thread and a good stitching needle to close the wound. What you really needed was something to fight infection both outwardly and inward. The tonic would have to wait. Without further thought, your hands started going through every jar that held a gathered plant and salves you’d previously made. What you needed was the same Chiterra you’d used on Zeff mere hours ago. It’d been left inside your satchel. 

You ran to its place sat on your bed and upended the bag onto the mattress. Your hands flung everything off until you came to the jade-green bottle and held it up to the light. You didn’t need the sunlight to tell you there wasn’t enough in the bottle. You’d applied most of it on Zeff. 

With a scream, you hurled the bottle against the wall. All that panic was turning to rage and you couldn’t keep it bottled in. You went to grab the things you did have and noticed on the small desk in the corner the snowdrop Zoro had placed behind your ear. 

Suddenly, you were standing back inside that forest. The feeling of his fingertips gliding over your ear as he deposited the flower, hand lingering longer than it should’ve. There was no mistaking the way he looked at you then was the same way he’d looked at you on the deck. The same way he’d looked at you seconds before Mihawk and tried to slice him in half. 

No. Zoro wasn’t going to die today. 

Grabbing what you had, you rushed back out of your room and to the galley. 

“We need to go to the Baratie and ask if they have any supplies.”

“What are you talking about?” Nami asked, flabbergasted. “How do you not have the supplies?”

“I used most of it last night, mending Zeff.” 

“Why the hell were you doing that?!”

“It was to help, Luffy-“You took a deep breath and pressed your hands out, as if it was going to push all the panic you’d pressed down from climbing back up again. “It doesn’t matter now. Luffy, can you go to Baratie?”

“I’m not really hungry right now, Doc.”

“Luffy, no-“ deep breath. Breathe. “I need something that is able to fight an infection. Something we can put on the skin.”

“Right! Right, I can do that!”

Luffy looked over Zoro’s body one last time before he sprinted out of the kitchen. It left the three of you waiting there until he returned but you were done with waiting. You were a doctor and it was about damn time you acted like one. 

If only you could get your hands to stop shaking. 

“Usopp, I need you to take this needle over to the stove and sterilize it for me, please.” 

“I’m on it, Doc.”

“What do you need me to do?”

Nami patiently waited to take whatever direction you would give her. You were sure if you told her to bring you fifty buckets of seawater she would do it without question. 

“Just go back up towards his head and talk to him. I’m going to sew up the wound and, well, it’s not going to feel too great.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

You both went to move around the other to get into position when you lightly grabbed her arm in passing. She turned to you with eyes too wide to be anything else but shocked and you wondered if you mirrored her expression. 

“Thank you for coming back.” 

You weren’t sure why you needed to tell her that, especially at a time like this, but you meant it. No matter what was happening right now, Nami had proven to be the sister you’d never had. Without her here now you might have been lost. 

You let your hand fall away as you came to the side of Zoro and began to unravel the thread. You had most of it unraveled when Usopp showed up beside you and handed over a very sterile needle. You threaded the black thread through the stitching needle and decided to start working on the smallest area. 

Maybe by the time you finished with it the tremors in your hands might have disappeared. 

Luffy arrived back from Baratie with Zeff and Sanji in tow. All three of them walked in just as you finished the last crisscross of stitching on Zoro’s chest. 

“Oy, I was wondering why he was asking for me,” Zeff huffed as he came around the opposite side of the island. “I could’ve sworn you said you were a doctor.”

“I am. I just don’t have anything to put over the wounds to support healing or to keep them from getting infected. I asked Luffy to go in case you did.” 

Sanji set down a basket on the island and you couldn’t keep your brow from quirking up in question. 

“Are we having a picnic?”

“Very cute, smart ass,” Zeff shot back. “Yellowtail skin is known to have enzymes in the skin that staunch the wounds and speed up the healing process.” 

As he explained it all to you, Sanji unrolled a set of very sharp-looking knives and handed the second largest to Zeff. Right after he unrolled the yellowtail from its wrapping and held it out for the older man to take. 

Zeff stroked the fish in appreciation before he began to cut it. Once the head was removed and he sliced it in half, you all watched as he carefully thinly sliced the yellowtail’s skin in sections. Each section of the fish was cut and placed on a plate until the entire fish was flayed. When he finished with the last slice, Zeff motioned for someone to grab the plate as he made his way around to join you on your side of the island.

“It’s my turn to teach you a little something, girl.” 

You wouldn’t deny that you didn’t know about yellowtail skin being able to do any of this. As you watched Zeff carefully layer it over your stitch work, you wondered if Naan was even aware of it. 

“Is he going to be okay?”

Usopp’s question was so soft you wondered if he’d even spoken. His eyes, like the rest of you, all focused on the motionless body of your crew mate. 

“I’m not going to lie to you. He’s lost a lot of blood. I’m sure your doctor can even tell you that. It might be too late for him.”

“But it might not be.” 

Luffy wasn’t going to give up on Zoro. He refused to think of any possibilities where Zoro didn’t wake up. You wish you shared the same belief as him. That Zeff’s words didn’t sit heavily in your thoughts because it was the same one you had.

“He’s got one foot in each world right now, caught between life and death. You have to find a way to keep him tethered to our world. Talk to him. Tell him stories. Sing him sea shanties for all I care. He may not reply, but at least he’ll know his crew is still with him.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “Singing lovely little tunes isn’t going to save anybody.” 

“It’s not about science or what’s up here,” Zeff replied, a thick finger poking you dead between the eyes. “Sometimes it’s the heart of the matter that saves people.” 

Naan would’ve hollered about Zeff being the biggest idiot she’d ever met if she’d heard one word of that. A part of you wanted to ask if he could tell by the look he gave you. 

“We need to wrap him.”

“God, does that mean we gotta hold him up again?” Usopp whined. 

“Yes,” you shot back. “Usopp it does mean I need you guys to help hold him up.”

“I can help you. If you like.”

Sanji stepped around Zeff to come to your side. All his earlier flirting was replaced by the genuine desire to help. You were sure if Zoro knew Sanji had helped him in any way he would implode, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“Sure. I would appreciate it. Thank you, Sanji.” 

You waited on bated breath to hear a cheesy pick-up line and found yourself coming up empty. You got your wraps ready as you motioned for Sanji to lift him and when you finished, Nami offered to let Zoro stay in her room. You didn’t help carry him inside and figured it was only a few short feet from the galley to her room. 

You needed air. You needed rum. You still needed to go fix up your room. 

The only thing you did was the first on that list. 

You’d found yourself standing on the stern of the ship. Your arms hung over the railing as you took in the endless blue that surrounded you and the last few stragglers of ships remaining from the night before. You tried to let your mind relax by wondering who was on those ships; the stories Usopp could create would either leave you in wonder or hysterics. 

That was what you really wanted. Your best friend to tell you a story as far-fetched as the one you’d all been a part of in less than twenty-four hours. You went to remove yourself from the rail when Luffy appeared beside you. His eyes scanned out over everything before him before he turned to smile at you. 

“Hey, Doc.”

“Hey Luffy. Everything alright?”

He still looked shaken by everything that had happened. The smile he’d tried to plaster on his face while Zoro was still conscious on the dock was replaced now with something you never thought you’d see: fear. 

Monkey D. Luffy was afraid. You wanted to reach out and hug him. To remind him that life came with no playbook and you were all just fumbling around trying to make the best decisions without ever knowing the outcomes. 

“Yeah. No. Maybe Nami was right and I should’ve tried harder to stop Zoro.”

“Luffy, Zoro was always going to do what he wanted. I don’t think you telling him not to do it would’ve mattered. What he wanted to know was that you were in his corner believing he could do it. You did the right thing as a Captain. As a friend.”

As the words left you, you knew every single one of them was true. The stubborn idiot was going to go out and do this duel no matter what. It’s what he’d trained himself to do and why he continued to train. Who were any of you to tell him all of that was for nothing? 

While Luffy listened and filtered your words through his head, you could see the small worry lines that had creased his forehead begin to ease. The darkness behind his eyes lightened just enough that you could feel his sunshine beginning to peek through the storm. 

“I’m always going to be in every one of your corners because you guys are in mine.” 

You tried to give him a weak smile. Something that could equal the one he’d given you. You could feel it falling flat and decided it was safer to look back over the side of the Merry or at your hands. 

It was a mistake. How you’d missed the blood - Zoro’s blood - that had caked on your fingers and between them was beyond you. Instantly, you felt like you needed to bathe. To scrub your skin raw before it leaves a deeper imprint like an unwanted tattoo. 

Luffy must have noticed your panic because he moved closer to you, shoulder to shoulder, and gently reached out to stop you from scratching through your skin. 

“Why are you out here, Doc?”

His question was light. Soft. A whisper that forced you to hang your head before a flood of emotion threatened to burst from the dam in your chest. 

“I should’ve believed in him more, like you do. I should’ve shown him or had more faith in who he is.”

“The Demon Pirate Hunter?”

That did make a snort of a laugh leave you as you looked up at Luffy. 

“Your first mate.”

You were surprised when Luffy suddenly wrapped a long arm around you and pulled you into a tight hug. You thought you were going to have to tap out and tell him it was too much. Damn, could he give a good hug. But you didn’t. You wrapped an arm around his waist and allowed yourself to be consumed for just a little while by sunshine. 

“You did an amazing job today, Doc.” 

You pressed a scoff into his chest before you pushed away and secured yourself back over the railing. 

“That’s really sweet Luffy, but no I didn't. I was sloppy. Unprepared. My response time was shit.” Your delay in helping Zoro could be what cost him his life. You didn’t want to say it out loud. The guilt - shame - of that hard fact sat like stones in your gut. “If Naan were here she’d have my ass.”

“But you saved him.”

Luffy looked so confused and you weren’t sure you wanted to explain it to him. He believed in you more than you believe in yourself. 

“No. All I did was make him comfortable if he died.” 

It felt like you were speaking through molasses. The idea of him dying filled your body with such raw grief it threatened to topple you over. 

“That’s not true.”

It was true, and Naan would’ve used this moment as another one of her hard lessons. One just to prove why getting attached to others was never good for a healer. Everything she’d ever taught you had gone right out the window as you watched Zoro fall. All the training and knowledge wasted as you acted like a lovesick girl and not the one who maybe could’ve saved him if she hadn’t been so lost in her head. 

No. You weren’t who Luffy thought you were or who you’d even thought you were. You should’ve stocked up on ingredients more. Noted all the tools you were missing and got them instead of worrying about a world full of promise and adventure. 

“I’m going to go wash up, Luffy. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Make sure you stop in to see Zoro, Doc. I know he’d like to hear from you.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Would he want to see someone who selfishly tried to keep him from being who he was? You could still hear the last conversation playing in your head. The way his voice cracked just enough to notice. 

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

You didn’t mean it. You weren’t sure if you could face him but another part of you wondered if the last memory you wanted to carry of him was him lying bleeding on Baratie’s dock. 

The bath had been scolding hot and your skin was still slightly red from how furiously you’d scrubbed it. You’d had no intention of going in to see Zoro. 

Not yet. 

But as you left your room you heard Nami’s voice raise and you bolted toward the sound. What if something was happening to Zoro? Instead of the possibility of you going into doctor mode, you noticed it was yelling of a different kind.

“And I would like it if Zoro wasn’t dying in my bed!”

No! Not dying…

You came shooting around the corner and into the room. Your eyes take in a small-looking Luffy as Nami stands on the opposite side of where Zoro lies. Her eyes were piercing and sharp and full of anger directed solely at your captain. 

“I can’t get in the way of someone’s dream, Nami.”

“What’s going on here?”

Nami’s gaze moved over to you and it made you want to stop in your tracks. It felt like she was almost blaming you for the dying friend in her bed. 

“Nothing. I was just leaving.”

“Again?” 

The word came out before you could stop it. The irritation sparked from her in waves. You hadn’t meant to say it but you were too emotionally exhausted to care. 

“Again?” Luffy asked, visibly lost. 

“It's nothing,” Nami quickly dismissed your words as she set down the book she’d been reading. “Just a slip of the tongue. Right, Doc?”

She wasn’t giving you time to answer her because she wasn’t trying to have more conversation. Not with you and definitely not with Luffy. Somehow, you’d both ended up in the shit yard. 

You turned to watch her retreat and didn’t take one step forward until you were sure she was gone. You reached out to Luffy and touched his arm briefly before you dropped it back down to your side. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just-“ 

He was back to looking lost. His eyes searched for answers ingrained in the wood of the ship and coming up short. He looked up at Zoro still lying motionless in bed and turned in your direction. 

“I’m going to get the Wado Itchy Monkey ready for him when he wakes up.” 

“Itchy monkey?”

“His sword.”

Now this was the Luffy you knew. It wasn’t as cheerful as it should’ve been but you would take this smile over the wounded look any day. 

“Oh, right. The Itchy Monkey.”

You hoped somehow Zoro could hear this and was screaming. 

“Do you want to come with me? I think Sanji is also with Usopp in the galley cooking something. If you want to eat.”

“Maybe later. I need to do an assessment first.”

“Oh, yeah. Let us know how it goes.”

“You got it, Captain.” 

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what? 

“Captain. No one else does.”

His question took you back. Was there something else he wanted to be referred to instead of Captain? He’d seemed to make it pretty clear his dream wasn’t just finding the One Piece, but having a crew all his own. 

“Uhm, because you’re my Captain and that is false. Usopp does say it…sometimes. In between calling himself Captain Usopp.” 

You waited to see that infamous smile brighten his face. The one that reminded you of the good that was housed inside him and the painful realization he was still so young. What you got instead was a softer smile, one that still reached his eyes but spoke plainly of gratitude. 

“Make sure that when you’re done you get something to eat. That’s an order.” 

You offered up a mock salute as you replied, “Aye, Captain.” 

It felt ridiculous. It felt silly but it also felt good. Like you weren’t standing in a room where Zoro was slipping in and out of death. Silly like sitting back in a restaurant. All five of you enjoying a meal filled with laughter and teasing conversation. 

With a heavy sigh, you turned to face the unconscious man before you. He looked incredibly peaceful and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve believed he was just sleeping. But his breathing was still too shallow and there wasn’t any eye movement indicative of dreaming or thought. 

He looked like a shell of the man you’d fallen in love with. The color hadn’t returned to his skin and there was a noticeable sheen of sweat to his forehead and upper lip. Gently, you pressed the back of your hand to his forehead and felt the warmth to his skin. 

You figured there would be a fever, but not so soon. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad sign but you wouldn’t dwell on it. A fever meant he needed medicine, which was your specialty. You set to work pulling what you needed out of your satchel and began to make something to help reduce the fever and hopefully help whatever infection was in his blood. 

After you steeped all the ingredients through the strainer you walked over to Zoro and gently lifted up his head. You had some trouble wiggling the nose of the bottle between his lips when you remembered you still had to contend with his teeth.

“A pain in the ass even while dying,” you groaned.

You placed his head back down against the pillow and quickly ran through your options. You tried to prop him up as much as you could before you placed your hand on his chin and applied a small amount of pressure until you felt his jaw begin to open. Finally, you were able to deposit some of the medicine between his lips. Your hands gently coax his throat to swallow by running your fingers against the skin. 

Once it was done you placed the jar behind you on Nami’s dresser and went to get a cool washcloth. You weren’t sure if you were going to stay until you started wiping the sweat from his brow. 

You found yourself sitting in the chair Nami no doubt abandoned and the book she’d been reading to him. The tale of Noland. The liar. A man who claimed to have seen something and there was never any proof. 

Liar. That’s what stuck out to you the most. 

You’d been staring at the cloth in your hands, fingers picking at the fraying pieces unable to look at him. Not until now. 

You weren’t sure why you felt so unsure of whether you should be there. If you should bother staying. The last time you’d spoken he’d made it clear what he thought of you and yet…

Reaching out you took hold of his hand for the first time. It felt wrong doing it like this but what were the chances of you being able to do it again? Your thumb moved slowly over his knuckles as if trying to outline each one perfectly to memory. 

“How are you supposed to train me to kick your ass if you don’t wake up?”

Zoro didn’t show any signs of stirring at your words. You expected him to turn his head at any minute. His eyes flew open in horror at the idea of you ever kicking his ass. You could practically hear all the remarks he’d make. 

“The day you ever kicked my ass is the day hell freezes over.”

“It’ll take a miracle for you to even get close.”

But they were the only ones that you heard in your head. Figments of previous conversations warped to fit the crazy narrative that he would be able to answer you back. 

“You know, if Naan could’ve seen how I acted today she would’ve killed me.”

An empty laugh left you as you looked up at his face. There wasn’t the usual dart of a raised brow in teasing. No hard stare that made you feel like he was silently yelling at you for getting on his nerves. 

“She would’ve been disappointed. She taught me over the years that a doctor who can’t think on their feet at lightning speed is useless. A doctor who got emotionally attached to their patients was equally as useless.” You tore your eyes away from him to look at the safety of your lap. Unable to look at him as you spoke, “I was useless at being able to help you when it mattered.”

The sob you’d been struggling to hold back erupted in a burst that forced you to cover it with your hand. You couldn’t let anyone else hear you as you shattered. 

“Maybe that was my final lesson from her. To prove that caring for all of you the way I do is only going to harm you later.”

What good was having a doctor who was only going to fail them later? But Zoro still being alive proved that it wasn’t just medicine that kept people going, but their own desire to live. That was all you wanted. You didn’t need him to wake up and proclaim his undying devotion to you. Even if he woke up still hating you, you would accept it. Anything was good enough for you if it meant you’d get to see him smile one last time. 

Walking into the galley you expected it to be either quiet or at least filled with light conversation. Maybe even a couple of gloomy faces. 

What you hadn’t expected? For it to smell like Baratie inside the tiny space, and to find the reason for the smell to be Sanji talking away with Luffy and Usopp while he cooked. 

“It smells like heaven in here,” you mused, taking in a deep inhale of all the aromas floating inside the kitchen. 

Usopp was leaning against the island - in the same exact spot Zoro had been in mere hours ago. His blood still stained part of the wood. You couldn’t bring yourself to go near it. So, you made your way around it completely and over to sit with Luffy. Who was currently cleaning the Wado Ichimonji for Zoro just like he said he would. 

Everywhere you looked Zoro’s presence was a constant reminder. A ghost haunting you that you hadn’t signed up for. 

“If this is heaven then in walked an Angel.”

Instantly, all your sadness was quickly replaced with irritation - and relief. 

“It’s a little too early to be flirting, isn’t it?”

“Nah. It’s never too early to let a beautiful woman know just how breathtaking she is.” 

“Ugh, I wouldn’t let Zoro hear you talk to Doc like that,” Usopp chuckled nervously. “I think he’d probably implode.” 

“I’m sorry. Who?” 

Sanji either must have had the worst memory you’d encountered in a while or he was playing dumb for the hell of it. Usopp took a bit of the apple he’d grabbed from the fruit bowl. He held up a finger letting Sanji know he needed to wait while he chewed before he spoke. 

“Green-haired guy. Three swords.”

“The one from this morning?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Sanji cocked his head to the side as if he was questioning if Usopp was telling him a joke and he’d missed the punchline. He was in the middle of folding something in the middle of what looked like dough and you were tempted to interrupt their small discussion about your nonexistent love life to see what it was. 

“I think I’ll take my chances.”

Sanji smiled warmly at Usopp and sent another eye twitch in your direction. 

This guy was going to give you trouble. 

You watched as Luffy softly ran one of Zoro’s clothes over the sheath of the blade. He was taking his time and made sure he didn’t miss a single part. He was dedicated to making sure Zoro knew his things were safe here, with all of you, on the Merry. That he was a captain who would do what was necessary for the things you all loved and held valuable. 

“So, how did he look, Doc?”

Luffy’s question tore your eyes away from watching him do another round of polishing. He hadn’t looked at you yet, but you knew the minute you started talking he would give you his undivided attention. 

“He’s doing okay. No real change in vital signs. A slight infection has set in and gave him a fever. I made some medicine to give him every few hours just to make sure it’s nothing major.” 

Luffy placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a light shake. A smile graced his lips as he replied, “The best doctor in all of the East Blue and soon, the Grand Line!”

You wish you could smile back brighter or maybe with something that looks genuine. Instead, a grimace meant to resemble a smile graced your lips. 

“I don’t know about the best doctor. I had no idea yellowtail skin had so many wonderful properties in them.”

“I don’t think any of us did, honestly,” Sanji offered. 

“It makes me wonder if Naan even knew about it.”

“What? You mean the resident doctor in your village never used the wonder that is yellowtail.”

“I think if you told Naan to go fishing for an ingredient you’d end up fishing your teeth off the floor.” 

“Oooh,” Sanji chuckled. “Is she really that bad?”

“Worse,” Usopp interjected. “Naan isn’t really known for taking new age information or techniques very well.”

“Hey,” you interject with a pout. 

“You know it’s true. She follows what her mother taught her religiously and makes Doc follow it too. I’m not saying she’s not a great doctor just…really old school.”

“I mean, she is old, Usopp,” you deadpanned. 

“You know what I meant.” 

“You two seem to know each other pretty well.”

Sanji was keeping himself busy still with scooping batter into a piping bag. You were so tempted to ask him what the hell he was making and how soon would you be able to get any of it. His statement was said with an inviting smile and a look of interest in his eyes as he looked between you and Usopp. 

“Doc and I go way back. She was literally, like, my only friend in the village we grew up in.”

“That is not true. You had Kaya. I had you and Naan and that was about it.”

“I’m sure a beautiful woman such as yourself has plenty of friends and admirers.”

God, please make him stop calling you beautiful. 

“Well, you’re wrong. No one in the village liked me.”

“They were actually scared of her.”

You loved how casually Usopp could just drop information without a care in the world. He was always like that since you were kids. You figured it must have been part of his ability to weave stories so intricately. Sprinkle truth throughout the lie and no one was sure what part was real and what wasn’t. The only problem here? He didn’t follow it up with anything else but the truth. 

“Usopp!” You shot out in a groan. 

He’d taken a bit of the apple again so all you got in response was a shoulder shrug. 

“Why would villagers be scared of you?” 

It wasn’t hard to miss the disbelief in Luffy’s voice or the small chuckle that clung to the back of each word. 

“Because-“ 

“Because she just showed up out of thin air on the island.” Usopp interrupted trying to swallow the remaining apple pieces in his throat. “No parents. No nothing. They all thought that a Siren or something dropped her off on the shores. All the villagers thought she was a bad omen.”

“Oh my god, Usopp! I’m like right here I can tell it and, by the way, you are the reason why everyone thought I came as a curse from the ocean and that my mom was a Siren!”

“I was trying to help you. It got Johnny Fittsmore to stop cutting pieces of your hair, didn’t it!”

“Wow. Okay.” Sanji mumbled. “Weren’t kidding on the friend's part.”

“Why was he cutting pieces of your hair?”

You weren’t surprised Luffy was confused. He was kind-hearted, and would probably never grasp the concept of people choosing to be mean. 

“I just showed up on the beach aboard a small lifeboat. Naan said she could hear my cries from her house.”

“Cries? As in a baby?” 

Sanji stopped all he was doing to rest his hands on the counter. His broad shoulders hunched forward as he looked at you through a small window of hair. He looked visibly upset and the last thing you needed was the new guy to think you were broken.

“I don’t know if I was a baby. I just know I was small and Naan decided not to let the birds eat me.” 

“No parents?”

“I mean, does anyone really have parents at this point?”

Usopp’s mom unfortunately passed away while you were both young. He’d never met his dad, Yasopp, wherever that no good baby daddy of a pirate was and basically had Usopp chasing after shadows in hopes he would ever return. Luffy seemed to only have a crazy stalker grandpa and that left Nami and Zoro with the chance of having actual functioning parental units somewhere.

“The lucky ones do.”

Sanji’s reply was delicate, like his smile, as if he said it too loud it would spook you. 

“I guess that makes us an unlucky bunch of misfits,” you replied. 

“I think we’re pretty lucky,” Luffy interjected. “We all found each other.” 

You were not going to cry. 

In the few hours this all happened,  you couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and meant it. A handful of those times had been with Luffy and, just like the times before, you could feel your own smile curving your lips. A real one. 

“I could drink to that.”

“Funny you mention a drink,” Sanji began as he placed something in the oven. “But I think you still owe me one.”

You got up from your seat and made your way over to stand next to the sink. Your eyes watched as Sanji did, in fact, have a bottle waiting in the basket he’d brought back from Baratie. 

“You always carry a bottle around with you?”

“Only when I get the chance to share a drink with a talented woman, such as yourself.” 

“Do any of these lines usually work on women?”

A full-throated laugh left him as he grabbed two glasses and began to pour the drinks. You would never say it out loud, not even if someone threatened to cut a limb off, but you enjoyed Sanji’s company. He didn’t take himself too seriously, except for his cooking. 

He let you tease him and took everything you served in stride. Although…you did miss the way Zoro always seemed to have something equally sharp to send back your way. Sanji just liked being in the company of others, especially if that company happened to be the opposite sex. 

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly. “It’s usually my charm and not my words that do it.”

“I can see that.”

He was charming. He was handsome. There wasn’t a point in denying facts just because your cup of tea was currently brewing on life support in the back. Sanji handed you your glass and lifted his up in a toast. 

“To the first drink and, hopefully, to many more.” 

You moved your glass to meet his and a light clink filled the space between you. You brought the glass to your lips and swallowed the liquid in a few gulps. As you set your glass back on the island you could hear a soft chuckle from Usopp coming from behind you. When you turned to look at him he was grinning from ear to ear. 

“What?”

“Zoro is going to be so pissed when he gets up.” 

You were about to tell him to shut up and remind him you were both very much single and in no way romantically involved. Even if you might have wanted that to happen, Zoro made it clear it wasn’t what he wanted. 

You started to open your mouth when Nami came crashing in through the galley’s doors. 

“Luffy! Luffy! The Arlong Pirates are at Baratie. We have to leave now.”

“What? Why? Why should we leave?”

“Because they are looking for you!”

“Just fucking great,” you sighed as you grabbed the bottle Sanji had left on the table.

Her last words were directed at Luffy. Of course, someone was here for Luffy. When wasn’t someone here for him? Stalker grandpa. Stalker grandpa’s war dog. Now another pirate who may or may not be working with stalker Grandpa. 

“Me?”

Luffy seemed as surprised as the rest of you. A finger pointing at himself just to make sure we were all physically sure it was, in fact, him.

“And the map. Those fishmen will tear this place apart if Zeff doesn’t turn him over.”

In a flash, all the joking and light conversation disappeared. One minute Sanji was beside you and then he was bounding around the island to get to his coat. 

“Where are you going?”

“If Baratie‘s in danger, I need to be there.”

You knew what was going to happen before Luffy even spoke. The goodness that was the core of who Luffy was would never abandon people to possible pain and suffering. It wasn’t in whatever strange and stretchy DNA that made up who he was. It was why you’d joined him and why you would continue to be aboard this ship until he no longer wanted you there. 

“Alright, I’m coming with you.” 

“Did you not hear what I just said? They are hunting you. We need to run.”

“I’m with Nami on this one. I’m really not trying to ruffle any feathers or scales.”

“Usopp. There are innocent people inside that place.

“How do you know that, Doc? It’s a restaurant that serves pirates!”

“Usopp - we,” you indicated between the two of you, “are pirates.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s a solid point, but still-“

“I’m not running,” Luffy cut in. “We’re going to protect this place.”

“This isn’t your fight. Why would you do that?”

You could feel yourself waiting for the answer - for Sanji to experience the man that was Monkey D. Luffy. With a kind smile, he simply replied, “You fed us.”

Kindness for a kindness. 

“Look, I know this crew. Their captain, Arlong, has the highest bounty in all of the East Blue. You do not want to mess with him.”

“It sounds like he messed with us first.”

“Luffy, please. Please.”

“Nami. What are you so afraid of?”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to say it or why you moved towards her. It didn’t matter if she tried to deny it or cover it up with anger this time. You’d seen her and the fear that rolled off her like a sickness appeared to cripple her. 

“What do I have to be afraid of? You are all going to rush in there and get yourselves killed!”

“Nami,” Luffy said, “I can’t let innocent people get hurt because of me. If those fishmen guys want a fight, we’re gonna give them one.” He looked between Nami and you and walked over to her. A solid hand cupping her shoulder. “You two stay back with the ship and protect the map. Hmm.”

“Fuck that!” 

You stepped forward to the other side of him forcing him to turn from Nami to face you. 

“I’m going with you.”

“Doc, it’s safer-“

“I don’t care. You’re down a man right now and, no offense Usopp, he isn’t the greatest choice for backup.”

“Hey! I’m taking all the offense!”

“Take it all I don’t care. Luffy, I may not be a three-sword-wielding badass but I can help you. Let me help you. Please.”

Luffy regarded you for one long moment before he slowly nodded. 

“You can’t be serious?”

Nami regarded you like you’d gone insane. Maybe you had. You weren’t a soldier. You didn’t know much about fighting besides when you punched Isaki Quade in the nose in the lemon grove. 

“I’m going with him, Nami.”

“It’s going to be alright, Nami,” Luffy interjected. “The ship and the map will be safe with you.”

With that, Luffy turns on his heel and heads for the door. As you walked past the island you reached up and removed a pot from the upper rack. If Zoro could see you now, you could already hear what he would say in your head. 

Seriously? You’re bringing the pot with you? 

“What’s with the pot?” Sanji asked. 

You twirled it around in your hand as you both tried to keep pace with Luffy’s quick steps. 

“It’s my weapon of choice.”

Sanji still looked confused but you didn’t have time to explain. Luffy was already up and over the side of the Merry and walking towards the deck. If you didn’t catch up fast he would be inside Baratie before you even made it to the door. 

“This is a bad idea. Such a bad idea.”

You knew Usopp was trying to whisper it to himself. He’d always been one to talk his thoughts out when he wasn’t even trying. You tried to soothe him as you passed through the door into Baratie with a pat on his back, and instead, he nearly became one with the ceiling. 

“We are going to be okay, Usopp.”

“You shouldn’t even be here, Doc,” he snapped back. “You are the ship's doctor. What happens if we get injured and so do you?”

“The good news is in that scenario I’m just injured - not dead. So, I can still patch you guys up.”

“That doesn’t make me feel the least bit better.”

If the mood wasn’t so serious you would’ve laughed. The moment felt like you were back in Syrup village with Usopp rambling on and on about if he should or shouldn’t tell Kaya he was in love with her. No matter what you told him, his head would still worry. It was his nature. 

Everything froze in time, however, when Luffy pushed open the double doors and stepped inside the eerily quiet dining room. 

“Who here is Arlong?”

That was one way to make an entrance. 

“That would be me.”

A deep voice boomed from below you and when you looked over the railing, immediately you wished you’d stayed on the ship. He was holding an older man by the collar, sharp teeth exposed at his throat. You suddenly wished Zoro was here. 

“My name is Monkey D. Luffy and I hear you're looking for me.”

“Why, yes I am.”

You had to hand it to Luffy. Arlong looked terrifying to look at and overly confident. Luffy didn’t seem the least bit phased by any of it as he led you all down the stairs. 

“So, this is the pirate I’ve heard so much about? You know? I was expecting someone…bigger.”

“So was I.” 

If you weren’t so fucking terrified you would’ve laughed. At least Luffy was able to smile for the both of you, because the minute eyes darker than the trenches of the ocean peered up at all of you ready to rip out your throats you swear you felt your soul exit stage left. 

“Do you know who I am, boy? I’m Arlong the Saw. Even the Marines flee before my flag.”

“Not ringing a bell. How’s you find me anyway?”

A sickening chuckle that reminded you of gills taking in water filled the room. 

“An old friend helped me track you down.” 

He clicked his tongue right after he finished, and you hated the fact that you jumped. You hated it even more when Sanji moved to stand just a little in front of you to protect you. 

In all of a second, the dirty blonde-haired fishmen reached into a black bag and took out a- 

“Is that a fucking clown head?!” 

You wanted to scream but swallowed it down as it started talking and- oh god moving. The neck area actually wiggled as he shouted, “Heya, Straw Hat. Did you miss me?”

“Burpy? What are you doing here?”

“Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice either. But these fine fishy folk persuaded me to point them in the right direction, which ain’t easy when you don’t have any hands.” 

He let out a laugh like this was like any other day. All completely normal. 

“How’d you even know how to find me?”

“I told you. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.”

To prove his point, you watched in horror as an ear fluttered its way out of Luffy’s hat and back to attach itself to Burpy’s head. 

“What is happening right now?” 

Your whisper was aggressive and you weren’t even sure why you were even asking Usopp or Sanji like they even knew. It just made you feel a bit better when all three of you looked at each other equally disturbed. 

Luffy, as usual, looked less shocked about the ear in his hat and more that he’d been listening. 

“You were listening all along? You heard everything?”

“Everything. And that got old quick, ‘cause you shidiots have no idea what you are doing. By the way, Doc, it's so nice to finally meet you. You’re equally as delicious as Dreamsicle. Wherever she is. Hey, Lips!”

Burpy turned to yell at the fishmen who did have rather large lips to scratch his ear. You were still stuck on the fact a clown head was trying to hit on you. 

Maybe you should’ve just stayed with Nami on the boat. 

The fishmen denied him his apparent scratch and Burpy went into full shriek mode. You instantly winced at the sound and tried not to cover your ears as his head was shoved back inside the black bag. 

“Listen here. I want my map and half of whatever you plunder as tribute. And if you bow down to me, I might even let you serve in my kingdom.”

Arlong was walking slowly towards you - towards Luffy. You weren’t sure if while he talked he was smiling or snarling. 

“I don’t bow down to any man.”

“I’m no man.”

“Or fish,” Luffy corrected. “You’re no king.”

“I will be when I get my Grand Line map.”

“Then…” Luffy placed his hat back on his head and you already knew what was coming. “You’re going to have to fight me for it.”

Shit. 

Suddenly, coming in with a fucking cooking pot felt ridiculous, but you were gripping it tightly all the same. 

“Then let the fighting begin.” 

Right as Arlong smacked his fist into his hand, the sound of a gunshot went off and your eyes traveled up to see a rather large Chef’s hat in the middle of the room. Attached to that hat was Zeff who held a small muscat in his hand. 

The other fishman who sat at the table with Blondie immediately got up and kicked the wood of Zeff’s wooden leg. It broke without pause and sent the older man tumbling to the floor. When he looked up, the Fishman kicked him hard and sent him flying back through three tables. 

“Zeff!”

Sanji’s voice was filled with so much pain your chest aches but it was also thundering to life with adrenaline. How the fuck did you think a pot was going to help at all against them? You could hear Zoro chastising you, calling you a dumbass and you swiftly pushed it away. Now was not the time to talk to imaginary Zoro. 

Sanji ran down the stairs and kicked Blondie away and used the momentum to land on their table. He spun off and kicked the Fishman who’d hurt Zeff. 

“Usopp!”

He ran past you and shrank down small to get under the table. No one else saw him do it. They were too busy watching Sanji as he took on the fishman. 

“Usopp, get bac-“

You moved down the stairs to get him and were greeted with Sanji’s body landing on the exact table. It tipped over instantly and exposed Usopp underneath. He immediately clamored out from underneath it. 

“Get the people out of here! Get them out now!” 

You rushed down what was left of the stairs as Luffy started shouting out his gum-gum pistol. You could hear his body stretching impossibly far back, but you were busy trying to get to Sanji. He was choking on the air trapped in his lungs and your body was seized in terror that he may have a punctured lung. 

“Sanji,” you asked, placing a hand on his face to bring him to focus on your face and the other gently on his side. “Are you alright? Does anything feel broken?”

“Just…my pride,” he wheezed back. 

You ignored the fact he’d placed his hand over yours and lightly began to move him towards Usopp who was now on the other stairs. You looked back and saw Arlong toss Luffy violently against the pillar. 

“Get up!”

“Luffy!”

You tried to move down off the stairs and felt Sanji grip you tightly around your waist to keep you there with him and Usopp. He kept throwing punch after punch and Arlong took them all with stride. Luffy wasn’t making a dent and to Arlong this was just a game. 

Luffy tried to swing on him one last time and Arlong caught it. He tried to swing again to make Arlong let him go, and he easily caught that one. With both fists in his hands, he used them to pull Luffy to him. 

You tried to wiggle free but Sanji held on tight and the feeling of Usopp’s hand on your shoulder joined in. Luffy looked so scared; so angry as Arlong told him something through sharpened teeth. One minute they were there and the next Arlong flung him up into the foray. 

“Luffy!”

This time you did scream as Arlong took the stairs to reach him. The continued sounds of a body being thrown through stained glass windows. 

“Doc, I know you want to go to him but you can’t! It isn’t safe.”

“Fuck that I can’t just let him die!”

You were nearing hysterics. Why couldn’t they remember that Luffy was a Devil Fruit eater? That outside was miles and miles of ocean and Arlong knew it. All it would take is one splash, and one toss, and Luffy would be defenseless. All it would take is him falling over the dock and he would drown. 

“He isn’t going to die!”

“Usopp, he ate a Devil fruit! Mother Ocean turns her back on those who do and what is outside with them?” 

You needed them to understand that it wasn’t because you wanted to be a hero. You weren’t that kind of person. You just wanted to save the life of your Captain. 

You refused to lose two people on the same day. 

“Oh, shit,” Usopp mumbled and you felt your head shaking along with it. 

“Yes! Shit. I need to make sure he’s okay. Please.” 

Sanji looked from Usopp and back to you. Blue eyes desperately searching your face to come up with a reason to tell you no. Finally, he released the hold he kept on your waist and nodded up the stairs. 

“Go check on our Captain.” 

You mouthed the words thank you as you bolted up the stairs. You took them two at a time and rounded the broken foray doors to see the sunlight coming from outside. That door too had been completely smashed open with Luffy’s body. 

The adrenaline in your veins screamed at you to move faster; be quicker. Your feet thundering onto the dock just in time to see Arlong holding Luffy up over the edge of the dock and…was that Nami?

“Nami!” You called out to her. “What are you doing?”

“Doc! Stay back!” 

Each word that left Luffy came out choked and ragged. His hands weakly clamored at the grip Arlong had on his throat. Your eyes didn’t know where to look. Luffy who was in danger or Nami who…had a suspicious-looking tattoo that looked like Arlong in tattoo form and the Grand Line map in hand. 

“What is going on?”

“A business transaction, girl,” Arlong chuckled. “Don’t be a pest and interrupt.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you, asshole,” you snapped. You should’ve cared when the smile left his face. When he looked like he would throw you into the ocean along with Luffy. “Nami. I asked you a question.” 

She turned on you then. Her whole body facing you as she gave you a shrug and a look so icy it could’ve frozen hell slid across her face. For all her show of hatred, however, she couldn’t hollow out the heartbreak in her eyes. Nami didn’t want you to hate her but she would make you, and you wanted to know why. 

“What is it that you aren’t comprehending, Doc? I was sent to steal the map and bring it back to him. I’ve been a part of Arlong’s crew this whole time. I played you.” 

You didn’t believe her for one second. Your friendship isn't something that could be faked. The way she cared and pleaded with Zoro to not fight Mihawk. She’d even pleaded with Luffy to run while Arlong was here and maybe…maybe it’s because she was running too. 

“I don’t believe you-“

“Believe whatever you want. It’s not going to make a difference or make any of this less real,” she snapped. 

She dismissed you by completely turning away from you and headed towards a Jolly Roger that held the same emblem as her tattoo. Arlong went to bite at Luffy’s neck and Nami called to him. 

“Why waste your time killing a Devil Fruit eater when the sea can do it for you.” 

No! “No!” 

This time when the fear threatens to freeze you in place and to keep you from making that critical step forward, you don't hesitate to burst into a full sprint. Your words leave you in a rush. 

“I’m a doctor! Do you hear me Arlong!? I’m a doctor.”

“Doc, no-“ 

“What good is a human doctor to me?” Arlong snarled in response. 

You could hear the sound of his fingers releasing Luffy. The sound of his body edging closer to the lip of the ocean. 

“Columnaria! Fish rot. I can cure it.”

That caused him to pause - for everyone to pause. 

“How? You’re a human.”

“We had fishmen who served one of the wealthy businessmen where I lived. They would get sick and Naan- the healer would have to treat them. She taught me how.”

Cautiously you moved towards him with your hands up. If he did decide to not take you up on your offer and drop Luffy into the ocean you wanted to be close enough to jump in. 

“I can treat any of your fishmen who are sick with it. I can teach you how to care for it yourself. But if you drop him into the ocean you’ll get nothing.” 

It was easy to see how much Arlong hated that you knew how to cure a disease that killed fishmen like wildfire. A human. You bargained his men’s life for the life of your Captain and that seemed fair. 

“Don’t do this, Doc.” 

“I’m sorry, Luffy. I have to.”

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d failed Zoro somehow. You wouldn’t fail Luffy too. 

Arlong took all of a second to consider your offer. He showed you he accepted it by dropping a very weak Luffy back onto the safety of the dock. 

“I accept your bargain, human. Welcome to the Arlong Pirates.”

_________

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always welcome.

_________

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#Chaos in Their Bones #ongoing series #one piece #opla #one piece live action #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #opla zoro x reader #opla zoro x you #one piece x reader #one piece zoro #op zoro #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #frenemies to lovers #idiots to lovers #slow burn #friends to lovers #mutual pining #reader is referred to as Doc

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Everyone Else Is No.2 {One-Shot}***

Lewis Hamilton x Attorney Friend Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, Mature 18+ Content, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, DIALOGUE HEAVY

Words: 15.2k

Summary: Again, nah.

Note: Inspired by that old August Alsina song "Kissing on My Tattoos". So sorry for how long it is and for the long sentences toward the end, it couldn't be any other way. Forgive the weird spacing throughout, Tumblr has a 1,000 block limit per post, and guess who reached it before correcting the spacing.

Note II: Really interested in hearing what you guys think about this one. Let me know.

As always, thank you guys for reading! I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.

If you did enjoy this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

-Y/N-

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

You smiled and took a sip of your drink.

"Thanks."

The man sitting across from you, Darius, nodded and before he looked down to his plate you caught his eyes drop to your cleavage. Of course, you thought. This was your 2nd date with him. The first went smoothly though you'd went with little to no expectations for it to be so. Tonight, he said the right things, did the right things, and was the perfect gentleman.

He'd even chosen a great restaurant. The ambiance was perfect for a second date. So far you had only counted 2 things that were less than satisfactory, everything was on point. He was so on point that you wondered if he was acting and not being his genuine self.

You hated the dating scene. Everyone held their cards too close to their chest. No one was ever real about anything. Everyone liked to waste people's time all in the name of fun and sex. These days you only treated dating as a pastime and a way to relieve stress after long hours of working on briefs and reviewing case files.

"A woman with your track record in law. Wheeew. Was it hard?"

You shrugged then wiped the corner of your mouth, "It definitely wasn't easy. I still remember the sleepless nights, and times when I only had 1 meal a day. My parents still remember not seeing me for 3 months because of the bar and my first major case that came nearly right behind the other. They won't let me forget it."

"It looks like it paid off. You're on the partner track. Shit, you'd be the first woman under 35 to make that happen at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw," Darius said.

You bristled, but politely smiled and took another sip of your wine.

"I'm sorry I don’t mean to make this weird I'm just in awe of you."

You studied him for a few moments but found no lie. You could always tell a lie. No matter what the case, no matter who it was. It was your secret weapon and it served you well as a lawyer.

"Thank you, but enough about me. What about you? Tell me about Darius Forrester."

He smiled, licked his lips then looked you directly in the eye.

"I'm pretty much a what you see you get kind of guy. I've been at Berry & Clark for the last 6 years as a criminal attorney. The work is challenging but I do alright for myself.

You nodded. He did. From what you heard his win ratio was nearly 92% and he took upstanding cases. He was a good attorney. Normally you wouldn’t shit where you ate because mess was not your style. You did not want to walk into a courtroom or boardroom and see the opposing counsel was an ex. That one thing gave you nightmares.

So dating lawyers was out of the question. You dipped in every other career field, playing it safe. The further they were from a law career the better. However, after a conversation with your other lawyer girlfriends about limiting oneself in the already limited dating pool, something clicked, and you decided to try it once but only if they weren't in your firm. Darius was your first attempt.

As he continued to tell you facts about himself you listened, but he didn't have your full attention. There was another person who held your attention, a person who though was usually out of sight was never really out of mind.

You heard your phone sound from your clutch resting on the table and both your eyes shot to it. Darius spoke before you moved.

"Go ahead please."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm an attorney as well, Y/N I know you come attached to it."

You smiled, held up your finger to him silently promising it would be quick, then took your phone in hand. You expected it to be Kemi, your paralegal, with files you were expecting, but it wasn't her name on your screen.

MSG Lewis: What're you doing tonight? Going over an endless to-do list of contracts and briefs?

You smirked.

MSG: Not even close.

MSG Lewis: Wow did someone finally decide to live a little and cut loose?

MSG: This sounds an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black.

MSG Lewis: Plead the 5th.

MSG: The Lewis Hamilton out maneuvered. Say it ain't so.

MSG: I'm close to your place. Just got back in town. Can you be ready in 10?

Your eyes flitted to Darius across from you who was taking the time to check his messages as well. You looked over him slowly, noting again how great he looked in his suit and how you liked the effort he had put in the last 2 dates down to the flowers he brought you and the activities you'd done. Things could progress if you chose to allow them to.

MSG Lewis: Is that a no?

MSG: I'm not home.

MSG Lewis: Okay. Where you at, the office? I can come pick you up.

MSG: I'm not at the office. I'm actually on a date.

You waited a few seconds, but he didn’t reply. Why didn't he reply?

"Everything ok?"

Caught off guard, you looked back up to Darius whose eyes were already on you. His brows were knitted with concern.

"Uh--yeah. I uh--I think so."

"A case?"

You thought about it and technically he was right. You were Lewis' entertainment lawyer. You were his personal attorney who reviewed the contracts after the company attorney said they had. You gave it to him between the eyes, never sugarcoating, and told him what was made with his best interest and what was made to capitalize off of him. However, when your services weren’t needed you were friends. Had been for practically a decade now.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe you’d known each other that long. You’d known him since he was just another F1 driver rather than the greatest. He knew you when you were going through school always on an empty tank all in the hopes of rising above the tax bracket you were born into. A decade later and he was dominating F1 and you’d more than risen yourself several levels past the tax bracket you’d been born into.

You were on the partner track at one of the largest firms in Europe. You brought in more revenue than most of the attorneys at the firm thanks to your high-class clientele. You'd both worked your asses off to get to this level and enjoyed the spoils of your labor often. You clubbed together, went to dinner, and sometimes did the vacation vibe together. You enjoyed one another’s company.  

"A client."

"Oh. Everything cool or---," Darius said.

Another message came in just then. "Everything is cool."

Darius smiled. "Good. I'll be right back, men’s room."

"Yeah."

Darius stood then walked off leaving you with the perfect opportunity to check your phone.

MSG Lewis: Is that right?

MSG: Yeah. 2nd date. Well technically 3rd if you can have 2 dates in one day.

MSG Lewis: Cool. Is it going well?

MSG: Yeah. He's made it this far.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

MSG: When he drops me home Ill text you. Come get me then.

Several moments passed before he replied. Again, you wondered why.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

The remainder of dinner you were distracted. Darius played all his cards right, even scoring himself the green light on a little hand-holding action. You had to admit he was smooth. When he pulled up to your condo building he walked you to your door then went in for a kiss. You hadn’t expected it, but rather than pull away, you allowed it to play out. It wasn’t a bad kiss. He hadn’t been too overzealous, only slipped you a little tongue, and had kept his hands respectful. All in all, for a first kiss it was a solid 8.

With a promise to call to set date number 4 sometime next week, you went inside and allowed yourself to come down. The dating scene was not something you enjoyed often. You always felt like you were performing, like men wanted a certain kind of woman, the perfect woman who they could prance around on their arm to make other men envious and that took its toll.

You never felt you had to perform with Lewis. Never felt like he wanted the perfect you. He made fun of you whenever you were perfectly put together for work meetings and said many times he liked you out of the makeup and heels. After another sigh, you took your phone out and texted him.

~~~~~~

-Lewis-

The ceiling looked like every other ceiling he’d ever seen but that didn’t stop him from focusing most of his attention on it like it was the most interesting piece of construction ever. His eyes should have been focused elsewhere but they weren’t. A loud 'slurp' echoed in the mostly quiet room reminding him again that he wasn’t alone.

"Mm. Why are you so distracted tonight, bae?"

Julissa's voice was as smooth as honey and as seductive as ever. He lowered his eyes to where she was kneeling between his legs and took her in. Her lips and chin were wet as she gave him her bedroom eyes. This was not the first time between them. Usually, it would work but not tonight. Tonight he was struggling to even keep his head in the room.

He watched her tip her tongue out and lick from the base of his dick to the glistening tip. Once there she swirled her tongue around him then sucked his head into her mouth. He’d have to be dead for it not to feel nice but that’s all it was--nice.

He sighed then brought his attention back to the ceiling. "Work."

"Aw babe, when you’re with me work should be the last thing on your mind," Julissa said before lowering her mouth down his shaft. When he felt her tonsils he groaned. His body wanted to like this wanted to give her the reaction she was working so hard for, but something was holding him back. Julissa's mouth bobbed up and down his cock sucking and slurping to her heart’s content trying to get him off, but he knew she had her work cut out for her.

He thought back to your text from 2 hours ago. You were on a date. Well shit, he hadn’t seen that coming. That was the last thing he had expected you to be doing tonight. It wasn’t because you weren’t desirable, or he thought no man would want you. For fuck's sake, you were beyond desirable, you were gorgeous and so damn intelligent. He couldn’t figure out which of those made you more beautiful, your looks or your brains. You also worked hard to be where you were, and you deserved all the praise and attention you got wherever you went.

However, sometimes he wished you got a little less male attention--x that, a lot less male attention. He sighed again. This had been going on for 10 years now. Your friendship had only strengthened but along with a strengthening friendship came a lot of other stuff. Stuff like him taking notice of the fullness of your hips or being tempted to peek when you’d been changing in the backseat of his car, or being painfully aware of how your breasts felt against his chest when you hugged.

That coupled with things he had picked up from you, made the unspoken and ignored things that much more—confusing. There were times when the way you stared at him when you thought he wasn’t looking spoke volumes or the way your hand always lingered on him for a few seconds longer than necessary but not long enough for it to be inappropriate, or the time you'd fallen asleep together on the couch and he'd woken to you wrapped around him using him as your personal body pillow and mumbling his name in your sleep.

Yeah, there was a lot of extra stuff, stuff neither of you ever addressed. The only ones who assessed it were his friends. Miles told him on several occasions that he should be careful before he or you fucked around, and someone ended up hurt. That stuck with him, but not in the way Miles had probably meant it. Rather than taking it the way Miles meant, he used it as a means to keep himself in check, a form of prevention from him crossing the line. He knew if he did, neither of you would be able to go back. It would be impossible and was one fuck up worth a decades-long friendship?

So friends were where you stayed until he added another facet--professional. Years passed, dates passed, flings, non-labeled encounters on both your parts passed and through it all your friendship remained, and nothing changed. Except today there was even more extra stuff.

The feel of Julissa’s lips wrapped around his balls sent his hips jerking upward as a curse left his lips. Julissa moaned and giggled.

“Daddy likes that?”

He knew how he would like it more. As quickly as he revved to that thought he steered away from it. That was when his phone sounded.

MSG Y/N: I’m home. Whatdaya you wanna do? Should I change?

His eye caught the time. 1am. Almost 3 hours from your last text and you were only now getting home. Clenching his jaw he took a deep breath. He had no right to be mad or annoyed right now. He knew where this was coming from. You’d been on a date, and you said it was going well. A date going well had a chance of making it upstairs. He closed his eyes squeezing them tightly. He hoped to God that you hadn’t just gotten it in.

MSG Y/N: Hello?

MSG: You don’t have to change. How about some treats and a view?

MSG Y/N: Okay. Still 10?

MSG: Make it 15.

Pulling himself up he reached down to stop Julissa. She looked confused.

“I gotta go J.”

Now she looked even more confused. He didn’t owe her an explanation, that’s not how this worked between them.

“With your dick out?”

He scoffed then fixed himself as he stood.

“Lewis this’s never happened before. Are--,” she began before he cut her off.

“All good, just—not in the mood I guess.”

She looked offended now. “I’m sorry J. We’ll talk.”

He walked to the door then left her apartment without a glance back. He didn’t feel any way about it because both of them knew what their relationship was and wasn’t. She’d agreed. Once he was in his car, he zipped through the London streets maneuvering the quickest route to your place. Thanks to the time it was an easy drive with minimal traffic. 15 minutes on the dot he swerved around to the front of your luxury condo building then sent you a text letting you know he was there.

A few minutes later, he peeped you from the corner of his eye. You walked off the elevator in a short and tight black dress, impossibly high strappy black heels, and a flowy robe-like jacket that danced behind you as you walked.

“Fuck.”

You were beautiful. Just then the thought that you’d gone on a date dressed like this rubbed him wrong. Some other man had seen this view, a view you gave willingly. Clenching his jaw, he looked through his windshield as he tried to push all those thoughts—all that other stuff to the side as he’d done countless times before. He looked back just in time to see you open the door of his car then climb in. His eyes dropped to your legs but seconds later he corrected that.

“Hi!”

Your smile was bright as if you really were as happy to see him as your voice indicated.

“Hey.”

You reached over and pressed your cheek to his for a bougie kiss. The only thing he could think was that you smelled like a treat all by yourself.

“How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Good. Wow, what’s it been? 2 months?”

He shrugged as he shifted gears and took off. “Something like that.”

“Mercedes sure knows how to keep you busy,” you teased.

He tried to focus on the road but from his peripheral, he could see you crossing your legs displaying even more skin.

“What were you doing? You smell like fruits.”

He chastised himself because he hadn’t done a bit of cleaning up before he came. His only thought was you. Julissa’s fruity lip gloss still stained his dick that he couldn’t manage to get hard for her.

“Nowhere special. Just kickin’ it.”

You didn’t press further which said you knew just what he was doing. He clenched his jaw again, this time annoyed with himself. As he drove to the dessert place you told him about what was going on in your life while he shared some bits of his with you. Like always conversation flowed like a calm river. It was something he loved. It didn’t take long for him to pull up to the drive-thru of the vegan dessert shop. When it was his turn at the window he tipped his hat lower and left the ordering to you.

You ordered damn near everything on the menu. You didn’t care if it was cake, cupcake, ice cream, brownie, or whipped cream. You ordered at least 2 of everything. It took the staff a good 5 minutes to prepare it all and when he loaded them in the backseat it was completely filled. When he looked at you with an “are you serious right now” look, all you did was giggle. Fuck, he thought. There went all that extra stuff again.

“There is no way we can finish all this,” he said looking at the bags they’d moved to the front since parking at their destination.

“Speak for yourself. I always have room for sugar, sugar.”

He snorted then shook his head. “Mad whack.”

Your jaw dropped as you gaped at him, and you looked too fucking adorable. You sifted through the bags until you found the dessert you wanted—the vanilla bean cheesecake. Your eyes lit up as you gawked at the large slice that was topped with white chocolate shavings. “It's so pretty,” you gushed.

He watched you snap picture after picture of the treat before you took your first forkful. When you did, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a completely indulgent, hearty, and dick-hardening moan. The fuck, he thought as his dick spasmed to life. Quickly he moved one of the bags to his lap and looked out the window.

“This is so good,” you obliviously said still munching on cake.

He pulled out the vegan chocolate truffle cake and took a bite. It too was good.

“That looks good. Is it?”

“Try it,” he said holding out a forkful to your mouth.

You paused for a split second then cut off a piece of your cheesecake before you held your fork to his mouth.

“You try too.”

The image that came to mind was that of a new husband and wife feeding each other wedding cake and with it, his throat went dry. He knew if he tried to speak he’d sound like a pre-pubescent boy, so he wrapped his lips around your fork taking the piece of cake then fed you his. Your eyes lingered on one another for a few moments nut when you moaned again his dick spasmed again. with that he turned his head so fast that he was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own neck in the process.

“So good,” you repeated.

The two of you sat there commenting on the desserts you went through in record time. He didn’t indulge in sweets often but when he did he found it was usually with your sugar-addicted ass. You said there were 4 things in life you would never give up, sugar, your favorite perfume, your favorite underwear set, and sex. He believed you on all points. When there were only a few pieces of cake left the silence in the car stretched.

“So—a date huh.”

“A date.”

“I thought you gave up dating.”

You took a deep breath then slowly released it before turning your body at an angle facing him. The hem of your dress hiked a little higher and he forced himself to look away.

“I did. Then I got bored and he asked.”

“What does he do?”

You didn’t answer automatically, instead, you took another forkful or 2 of cake, then you spoke.

“He’s an attorney.”

“I thought you didn’t date attorneys.”

“I don’t but me and the girls were talking, and it clicked that by x-ing out a whole career field greatly decreased me finding someone who could stick around.”

He paused. Stick around? This was new.

“Stick around? Are you—are you looking for something—serious?”

You took a beat then shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the other day, I have everything I have ever wanted. I am on this partner track, I make very high 6 figures, I have a great condo, my mental health is amazing, I have no debt, no baby daddies or drama, I—I’m kinda a catch but I go to sleep alone 98% of my nights. I come home to an empty place, I have no meaningful text exchanges, there is—nothing fulfilling in my life. I began to wonder if it was time to change all of that last bit.”

Silence stretched again as he thought over your words while studying you. This was the first time he’d heard you speak like this. Usually, you changed the subject or downplayed having any other thoughts than fun, sex, and work. Now hearing the vulnerability in your voice he knew you’d come to a point where all of this, intention-free dating, pastime sex, stress-busting flirting and all the meaningless interactions were unfulfilling and empty. You wanted more, you wanted love, a life, a husband, kids, vacation homes, and retirement funds, you wanted the quintessential definition of it all. He also noted you now found everything he was currently partaking in meaningless and unfulfilling.

Dropping his head, he stabbed the cake still in his hands. The more puncture holes it picked up the less and less he wanted it.

“Fuck, maybe I’m just bored and need a really, really, good fuck.”

He snorted but it was humorless.

“Don’t downplay what you feel, Y/N. Don’t—make what you feel insignificant, so you feel less vulnerable. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s you and me here.”

“It’s just—you—I know those are things you don’t necessarily want and you’re happy with the--.”

“Who said I don’t want those things?”

His tone was sharp and defensive though he hadn’t meant for it to be.

“Uh—you did.”

“No. I said it’s not something I can afford right now with my schedule and my contract extension. I didn’t say I never wanted it.”

You looked away from him to out the window. “Yeah, but your actions say a lot different,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N, look at me. What does that mean?”

You sat quietly for a few moments then just when he was about to ask again you blurted.

“There is a difference between I don’t want it now and I don’t want it ever. Someone who wants it someday would leave themselves open to it rather than boxing every interaction they have into--other things.”

“What if I don’t want to open myself to it?”

“That’s clear Lew.”

“No. You don’t get it. What if I don’t want to open myself to it because I don’t want to find the perfect thing—the perfect woman and then be fucked because it’s too soon and too hard to keep her in my world to wait until I can make those commitments because my world is fucked—I’m fucked because I want the world and will actually keep going until I get it anyone else be damned.”

He could feel your eyes on him, and it was his turn to feel vulnerable and exposed.

“You think because you put everyone in one box it stops what’s meant to be from—being?”

He glanced at you with a pained expression, he knew it. He was actually feeling pain.

“Also—you’re not fucked because you want the world. I want the fucking world. Am I fucked?”

“To be determined.”

You both busted out laughing then. You laughed for a good minute then smiled as it tapered off.

“Aren’t you the tiniest bit lonely in the other side of your life—away from F1?”

He didn’t need to think about that. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. The facts were that he was lonely more times than not. That was when he called someone to come distract him or make him feel good. He’d become an expert in the art of distraction. In his life, he only had time and the capacity for low stress and no mess. He had enough of both already.

He felt your hand creep into his and squeeze gently. Suddenly, there was all this other stuff again. The feel of your smaller hand in his larger one was something he really liked. Usually, when either of you took the other’s hand it was in passing or for a second, but the moment lingered and stretched, and still you kept your hand in his swirling your fingers against his palm and other fingers. He liked this too much.

“You can tell me. I won’t judge you. In fact—I’m lonely.”

His eyes slipped to you. Your head was down staring at your hands. It had now moved to trace the tattoos on his hand with the point of your nail as if his flesh were an adult coloring book. He watched you trace the rose on his pinky, then the planets on his ring finger. When you got to the lined arrow down his middle, he was having trouble swallowing again. Slowly, you traced the spaceship then went up across the sword until you reached his wrist.

He didn’t know if there was rhyme or reason to your movements or if you were just absently doing it. Goosebumps peppered his skin when you went up his forearm. He looked at you just before your eyes met his.

“You are?”

You nodded. “I am,” you whispered.

The air was on but inside the car easily felt like a sweltering 99 degrees. He didn’t know if it was from your touch or if it was the shift in the air between you. Did you notice it too?

“I think it’s okay to be lonely especially looking at how we live. We’re always working, always pushing ourselves to and through glass ceilings and when we do there is no one really there to share it with, not really, not in the way that fulfills,” you said.

Your face was closer to his now. Had he moved closer or was it you? Your eyes met again, and the temperature kicked up again. Fuck, he thought as his dick recklessly spasmed, begging for attention.

“I’m never lonely with you,” he said before his brain could stop his mouth.

A small smile lit your face, “Me too. Never with you.”

The smile slipped. “Well—not always.”

He turned to you more now, curiosity filling him. “What do you mean?”

You stayed quiet for a few moments but kept tracing his skin with your nail.

“There are times I can’t—guess what you’re thinking. Times I can’t—figure you out.”

“Then ask me.”

“Would you really tell me?”

He leaned closer. “I’d tell you anything.”

You searched his eyes, but you didn’t move back.

“Anything?”

He nodded slowly. His head felt hazy like you had him under some sort of spell with nothing more than your presence and the tip of your finger and all he truly wanted was to touch you in return. So he did. Reaching across to your exposed knee, he circled his finger around the smooth skin there. You sucked in a breath the moment his finger touched you and that one action nearly had him pulling you across the partition right onto his lap. Nearly.

So there on a hill that overlooked London, in his car, sitting near enough to a lone road light, you trailed your finger across his forearm while he did the same to your knee. The low light that illuminated the car bathed your skin in amber making him feel like you were on a whole different plane of existence rather than this real proven and tangible one. Your eyes held him in place to the point where he felt like he couldn’t move though he wanted to.

Without even realizing it you were mere inches from him. In fact, you were so close he could make out the hidden colors in your eyes, so close he could smell the fragrance on your skin that went deeper than perfume. This was your essence and by God he was intoxicated. Unable to stop himself, he inched his hand higher gripping your inner thigh. A soft moan fell from your lips and that was all it took for him to press his forehead to yours like the sound was tethered to his very core.

“Y/N,” he groaned.

The sheer might it was taking to keep himself restrained was becoming too much. At this point, it wouldn’t take much for him to abandon those restraints and give in.

“Lewis,” you whispered.

Your voice was raspy and dripping with what he dared label as desire. Fuck, he thought as he squeezed your thigh. He was so close, mere inches and it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between his fingers and your core but still, he fought himself. He was so wrapped up in his own battle for control within himself that he didn’t even realize when your hand rested on his upper thigh. You were dangerously close to kicking the lid off the box of other stuff that he’d worked years to keep shut. Half of him silently begged for you to keep going and kick it off so everything would be out in the open and it would be do or die but the other half of him hesitated still. The unknown was a powerful and sobering drug.

Your hand inched higher, then closer to what was the rock-hard physical evidence that deep down, now closer to the surface than ever before, he felt more, wanted more than what was. He wanted more than he could possibly afford. Still, his hand persisted, it inched higher making your hips jerk forward. The knowledge that he’d hit a sensitive spot sent his system into overdrive making a deep moan from his lips fill the car.

On cue in response, your legs opened a few inches more, making way for his hand. Jesus Christ he thought. There was his consent, you wanted him as he wanted you. There would be nothing wrong with him slipping his fingers underneath whatever underwear you wore. Fuck, he hoped they were lacy and strappy. There would be nothing wrong with him letting your hand slide to the aching dick straining against his pants begging for your attention. Shit, he bet your hands would feel incredible wrapped around him. There would be nothing wrong with him moving closer and finally claiming your lips as his. Damn, he just knew they were as sweet as they looked, that they felt amazing. There would be nothing wrong with him pulling your body against his for more than a clothed hug. There would be nothing wrong with him cupping your breasts and swirling his thumb across your nipple just to see the reaction it elicited. God damn it, he knew your moans would destroy him. There would be nothing wrong with him finally learning what you tasted like, nothing wrong with him finally smearing your wetness across his lips. Holy fuck, he knew you had to taste like pure sugar and cream.

His cock spasmed again then your hand made the move for him. In the same breath with his eyes squeezed tight, he lurched for your hand, gripping you by your wrist stopping you just before you touched him. As he did that his jaw clenched, the only thing he could do to stifle the moan at the tip of his tongue. It came out as a half groan and growl instead. The strangled whine that left you said you liked it, and he knew he had to end this here. It took him some time to find the smallest bit of control to open his eyes, but he didn’t possess enough control to look at you. There was no way he could.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, voice low and so close to a whisper.

He tried to keep the longing, regret, and hope from it. Slowly he removed his hand from your thigh hoping with everything in him that you grabbed it and nudged it higher. You didn’t though, so he turned forward readying himself to drive. You didn’t move for several long moments; you remained there half facing him with your thighs still tempting him to go back and take things further. With his hands on the steering wheel, he trained his eyes forward. He could feel all the antsy energy bouncing off every cell of his body, he could feel all the need in him wreaking havoc on him telling him to stop being a pussy and do what he really wanted to, say what he wanted to, take what he wanted.

His hands squeezed so tightly that the creaking of the leather echoed in the intense silence in the car. Just when he was about to say fuck it, you turned away from him. You softly cleared your throat then buckled yourself in. Sighing, he pushed started the ignition then swerved out of the parked spot they were in taking the route back to the city. As he drove you didn’t speak, you didn’t even move. You kept your head turned away from him looking out the passenger window with your legs crossed away from him. Your body language sent a completely different message now. Before you were open and so close to him. Now, you were so far he wondered if he’d turned Miles’ words into truths.

~~~~~

-Y/N- 8 Months Later-

The loud ‘pop’ of a champagne cork echoed just behind you making you spin in that direction. A group was just behind you laughing and toasting to something you guessed was momentous. You sighed then turned back to the painting you were currently studying. The abstract lines and swoops looked so similar to the slopes of a body. The longer you stared at it the more it felt like an erotic image than some random lines and swirls. There was something about it that stirred something in you, something that you’d ignored and buried so deep, something you hadn’t felt for 8 months.

You drained your champagne glass then squeezed your eyes shut. It had been a long 8 months. You’d worked your ass off times ten taking on more and more clients than before. You brought on 12 celebrity clients and 4 major corporate ones which brought Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw to the top of the field in revenue. You brought in so much money that you’d gotten 7 poaching offers from firms in different parts of the country.

Thanks to those offers that you hadn’t necessarily kept confidential, the interest in you for partner rose to unbeatable levels. Anyone you were competing against for the position paled in comparison. Those 8 months of ass-busting work led to your name being signed on the paperwork titling you as the new partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw. It was so much of a done deal that your bank account proudly embraced your new status.

With that new status came an increase in the events you had to make an appearance at as thee number 1 entertainment and criminal attorney in London. Your calendar quickly filled with meetings, speeches, appearances, court appearances, dinners, and more. You were so booked that the next time you had any schedule free time was 6 months away. You’d catapulted so far out of your original tax bracket that you’d shattered the glass ceiling that tried to confine you and now you wondered if you’d aimed too high.

“Looks like I’m right on time.”

You looked to your right and found Darius holding another glass of champagne for you. Smiling, you took it.

“That you are, thank you.”

“Of course. To you, the youngest and newest partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw and in the greater London area.”

You smiled as the man who’d stuck around through your insane schedule, your hot and cold behavior, your pull you close one minute, push you away the next, your disappearing acts, your reluctance to place a label on your interactions, your give me sex then get gone rule, and more for the last 8 months.

“Thank you, Darius,” you said leaning toward him and pressing your lips against his.

Darius moaned and reciprocated the kiss, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you close. You felt like you were thanking him for much more than the toast and the fresh glass of champagne. You felt like you were thanking him for taking your bare minimum and it made you feel like shit.

Darius pressed his forehead to yours and instantly you had a flash back to the last man who’d done that to you. In a split second, your heart rate spiked, and an intense feeling gripped you.

“You don’t have to thank me, love.”

Your reaction to the action ricocheted through you making you pull away from Darius. Turning back to the painting, you gulped down the champagne.

“It’s crazy that your firm has so many celebrity clients and that this many are here to welcome you as partner,” Darius said in hushed tones.

“It is crazy.”

All night you’d been rubbing elbows with actors, musicians, models, athletes, and more. All of them congratulated you on your promotion and wished you greater success in the future. It was touching but a little bit overwhelming. You couldn’t let on though, so for the entire night you’d been performing, and you were nearing the limits of your stamina for it. You’d been performing for the last 8 months. Shit, you’d even been performing with Darius. You’d been performing ever since you were dropped off in those early morning hours those 8 months ago.

“Y/N,”

To your left, your paralegal now turned assistant, Kemi touched your elbow drawing your attention to her.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey, you look incredible,” she said.

“Stop saying that please, you’re gonna blow my head up so big I just might start thinking I deserve a higher position.”

She giggled but gave you a look that said “well ya’ do.”

“The big wigs are asking for you, although you’re now one of them so--.”

You snorted while rolling your eyes. “Then doesn’t that make you the big wig assistant?”

She posed then making you laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Darius as you walked off to find those big wigs.

It didn’t take long before you found them surrounded by a group of about 10 people. When they saw you they waved you over with large smiles on their faces. You took a deep breath and approached them with an equally large smile.

“There she is ladies and gentlemen!”

The group smiled, patted your back, and welcomed you with friendly banter.

“Everyone!”

The music died down and someone handed Malcolm Boyd a microphone. He was your biggest fan, a black man who’d made unfathomable feats in the field and became an incredible mentor and second father to you. He put his arm around your shoulder as he always did.

“I am filled with great happiness and pride calling this woman the new partner here at Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw!”

Everyone began applauding then, drowning out his next words so he paused and allowed them a few moments before continuing.

“She has been with us for 6 years now and in those 6 years she has accomplished incredible things and when she was done with those incredible things she moved on to outstanding things. Y/N has reminded many of us of what it means to be determined and persistent. She tackles every case with poise, confidence, and grace and that confidence has given her that 99% win record.”

Again everyone clapped. You softly smiled at them half embarrassed by the praise but half so damn proud of yourself and happy that your accomplishments were being recognized.

“Just as Malcome said, “Patrick Halsey began placing his hand on Malcom’s shoulder, “Y/N more than deserves this promotion and I expect her to blow all of our minds in the coming months and years. We just might have to add another name to the plague.”

Many in the audience hollered and hooted at that and you couldn’t lie that the greedy ambition within you salivated at that possibility. You still wanted more. You exchanged a look with Malcome who gave you an all-knowing look. You just found your next accomplishment. The founding partners took turns praising you and giving reasons why you’d earned this promotion then raised their glasses to you for the ultimate toast of congratulations. You humbly thanked them and gave a quick appreciative speech before lifting your glass to the audience.

As you drank down the tart liquid, your eye caught sight of a figure you hadn’t seen in person for almost 2 months—Lewis. He stood at the back in a black suit that clearly was made for him. His braids were pulled back in the way he liked when he was tackling more professional events. He looked as good as ever. He lifted his glass of water to you and in response you gave him a tight smile.

The same thing happened that always happened when you met one another ever since that night. Your body went through this strange cycle of reaction, excitement, confusion, hurt, anger, annoyance, and disappointment. It was exhausting. Because of these feelings, you regretted that night. You regretted allowing your thoughts to go so astray that you opened up your ‘what if’ box. You regretted every whisper, every lean in, every almost touch, every lingering look, everything. You even regretted getting out of his car when he pulled up to your condo instead of pulling him by his hair to you and telling him to go upstairs with you. you didn’t know what you regretted more.

The worst part was that you had to continue on like always. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem because that night was not the first night there had been many ‘what if’ nights over your decade-long friendship. The common factor was that both of you moved on and slinked back into the basics of your relationship—comfort and friendship. This time is difficult, so difficult you contemplated passing his case off to another attorney. If it hadn’t been for Malcome talking you out of it he would have been someone else’s responsibility. Instead, you put on your big girl panties and a mask and did something you never thought you’d ever do with him—performed.

When the crowd thinned out and everyone returned to what they were doing you began making your way back to Darius in the opposite direction. You were ready to leave. Before you got far Lewis stepped in front of you stopping you in your tracks.

“Congratulations, Y/N.”

Smiling, you thanked him.

“You look--,” his words stalled as his eyes roamed your body. You noted the conflicted look on his face before it disappeared. “Incredible,” Lewis finished.

His compliment made your body warm and something like hope filled you. Chastising yourself you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you. You look nice too.”

Lewis scoffed softly then nodded. You then tried to slip by him, however, Lewis wasn’t having it. Again, he stepped in front of you.

“In a rush to get away from me?”

“Why would you say that? Have you done anything to me for me to want that?”

Silence stretched and Lewis studied you his jaw clenched tightly. Instead of speaking, he looked down, an act of defeat.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

“We’re talking right now.”

He gave you an unamused look, but you kept your nonchalant, innocent one. Unexpectedly Miles approached then.

“There she is--partner lady. Congratulations Y/N.”

You smiled then hugged Miles. “Thank you!”

“This is incredible news, Y/N. So happy for you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you for coming,” you replied.

“You know me, always this fool’s plus one.”

You smiled then the silence returned for a few seconds before Lewis spoke again.

“Maybe we can go somewhere—quiet after this?”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I can.”

“Why?”

Just then Darius approached and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his hand on your hip. You watched Lewis’ eyes drop to that hand and continued to watch as his jaw turned tight as if it filled with cement.

“Oh wow. Lewis Hamilton,” Darius said turning to you, his voice awestricken. “Babe it’s Lewis Hamilton.”

You nodded as a soft smile played on your lips. “Let me introduce you. Darius, this is one of my clients, Lewis Hamilton, and his best friend Miles Chamley-Watson fencing champion and Olympian. Miles, Lewis this is my—.”

You hesitated and in the same second, you felt Darius’ eyes on you filled with hope. Two other pairs of eyes were on you--one giving complete double eyeball emoji and the other searing you almost daring you to continue. The longer you didn’t speak, you watched Darius’ hope turn to disappointment. Glancing back at Lewis you found his eyebrow up with a curious and confrontational look while Miles was the epitome of if ‘well this is awkward’ was a person.

“This is Darius Forrester.”

You felt even more like shit now. Darius shook Lewis’ hand first then Miles’. While he did Lewis looked him over sizing him up. You knew he was wondering if he was the same man from those months ago when you’d told him you were on a date.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m a fan,” Darius said to Lewis.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I can sign something for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at his underhanded jab while a half chortle escaped Miles. Darius on the other hand leapt at the opportunity, handing Lewis the only thing he had, an art bidding ballot. Lewis signed the back but kept his eyes on Darius’ hand on your hip.

“Bidding on some art tonight?”

“I am. There is a piece this gorgeous angel has been staring at all night, it’ll be my gift to her for her promotion,” Darius explained rubbing your hip.

You smiled at him then kissed his cheek. Lewis now looked entertained while Miles’ eyes widened as he finished the drink in his hand.

“Ehm, anyway. So I’m sorry I can’t pencil you in tonight but if you call Kemi and make an appointment she’ll get you on the calendar for a different day for that talk,” you said.

“Plans tonight,” Miles guessed looking between you and Darius.

“Absolutely. I’ve had way too much to drink and plan on taking advantage of that.”

You leaned closer to Darius kicking up your performance another notch. Lewis smirked but also clenched his jaw to that. Miles whistled while nodding his head.

“Go on then Ms. Partner, fly by the seat of your panties or no panties,” Miles teased making you and Darius chuckle while Lewis gave him an unamused look.

“Well, enjoy your evening gentlemen. Thank you again for coming by,” you said before you made a move to walk off with Darius.

As you walked away you placed your hand over Darius’ and slyly slipped it lower to rest on your ass. You knew Lewis was watching and decided to deliver the last blow. Was it petty? Yes. Was it fair to Daius? Not at all.

The next hour or so passed with you roaming around the gallery looking at the art while Darius flirted with you. As you roamed, no matter where you went you saw Lewis from the corner of your eye and no matter how much space was between you, your skin reacted as if Darius’ touch was his. The more you felt that way the reality that Darius’ touch was in fact all his own annoyed you making you feel even worse. You knew what needed to be done and knew it had to be done soon.

The only way you could distract yourself was with glass after glass of champagne. As you emerged from one of your countless trips to the bathroom you bumped into Miles.

“Funny bumping into you here.”

You smiled warmly, “Still here? I thought you and Lewis left hours ago.”

“You knew we were still here,” he accused.

You tried to give an affronted look but failed. He was right. Sighing, your act fell for the first time that night.

“Wow. Feels good to not perform huh.”

You looked at Miles and wondered just how much he knew. He didn’t keep you in suspense long.

“What a twisted web we weave when we practice to deceive.” He scoffed, shook his head then continued, look, I am going to tell you the same thing I told Lewis.”

You perked up then but tried to play it off.

“You better stop playing before somebody gets hurt and by the looks of it, it’s gonna be your homeboy Darius if not all three of you.”

You took in his words then put your mask back in place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do, just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

Your curiosity peaked then. “What are you talking about Miles? What do you think you know?”

He scoffed. “I’m a straightforward kinda guy so I’ll say I know everything. As the neutral 3rd party who is both on the outside looking in and the inside watching this train wreck, I know everything. I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Your eyes lingered and the longer they did the more you got his meaning. Glancing away you tried to pretend like his words meant nothing, but you knew you were failing.

“I get it, I really do; 10 years is a long time to put at risk but are you really putting it at risk knowing all you know? You have 10 years of proof. Man up.”

Miles leaned in, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Let homeboy go so he can find someone who really loves him, someone who can love him. Your corner is full.”

With that, he walked away leaving you speechless and confused. Your corner was full? You had no idea whatsoever what that meant, and you were tempted to follow Miles and get some clarification, but you decided against it remembering the last time you chased down the rabbit hole. When you found Darius again his expression was somber when he told you that the painting he’d been bidding on was outbid and that he didn’t have it to gift you. After assuring him you were fine, you decided you were more than ready to leave.

Darius got the car as you waited outside allowing the cold air to cool your skin. You didn’t care that you were risking illness because it served as a needed distraction. When you felt a fabric drape over your shoulders you bristled at first but then Lewis’ scent circled you and your body relaxed. Even that annoyed you.

“I don’t need this. Darius will be back soon anyway.”

Lewis snorted. “8 months, is that a record?”

“I think it’s a record for you, but I’ve gone longer.”

He scoffed then shook his head. “No doubt, remember Y/N. I will be here long after you get bored with them all. I’m always here.”

Your eyes locked and his should have been radiating cockiness that matched his words, but instead, they were gentle, open, and vulnerable.

“Will you?”

There was no time to reply because a car horn blared drawing your attention. Darius waved at you as he got out of the car to walk around to the passenger side.

“Good night Lewis.”

You walked away from him then slipped into the passenger side. As you waited for Darius to get in and drive off, you stared at Lewis who hadn’t budged from the curb where you left him. Miles’ words echoed back to you then.

“Just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

“You have 10 years of proof.”

“Your corner is full.”

The word ‘full’ echoed over and over as Darius pulled off. Bullshit, you said to yourself in disbelief.

When Darius pulled up to your condo you sat there marinating in all your thoughts throughout the nearly thirty-minute drive. It wasn’t until you felt Darius’ hand on your exposed knee did you realize he was still there.

“Are you okay? Want me to come up?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “We need to talk Darius.”

When you looked at him his expression said he knew just what you were about to say. Being as gentle as you could, you ended things. Although the old “it’s not you it’s me” line fit the situation perfectly. You dug a little deeper and gave him and heartfelt reason without revealing you were and had been in love with your best friend for 10 years and didn’t realize it until his feelings were already on the line. When you finished, Darius remained the good guy he was and told you he understood and that he’d expected this sooner or later. You thanked him for being good to you then began making your way to the elevators.

Halfway there you dug into the pocket of the jacket you wore and froze. When you took your hand out you held a note with your name sprawled on the front in Lewis’ handwriting.

-Y/N-

I’ve thought for months about what to say to you because there is so much to say, so much that has gone unsaid for so long that I don’t know where to start—how to start. 10 years is a long time especially when neither of us has been 100% honest with the other. I want to end that. Please.

-Lewis

You read then reread the note over and over hoping you would know what to do next but no matter how many times you did, you had nothing. So you walked back and forth in the lobby. When your phone sounded, you found a message from Lewis.

MSG Lewis: Ball’s in your court. I’m outside your building.

You froze then slowly turned and saw his car. It had been months since you’d been in a car with him and the thought of doing it again freaked you out a little. Your eyes met at that moment, but he didn’t move. He was giving you the time to decide for yourself. You turned your back to him then walked to the elevators but stopped halfway. After a few moments, you turned back around and walked to the doors only to stop halfway again and repeat the whole cycle. Still, Lewis didn’t budge. He just watched as your internal debate played out physically.

After ten minutes you stooped down and put your down, completely exhausted by your indecisiveness. Taking a deep breath, you held it and allowed your lungs to adjust. It was an action you often did to help you think and calm down. As your oxygen levels decreased your heartbeat would slow and as it did, there was always one particular beat where you figured it all out. It usually came right in the nick of time.

So you allowed your heartbeat to slow and though you should have panicked you didn’t. You thought clearer than you’d ever thought before.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Miles’ words came back to you again and it was then you gasped filling your lungs with air. After a few breaths, you stood then turned to the doors. It worked all the time. With your head high and back straight you walked toward them then climbed inside Lewis’ car. Without a word, he pulled off then turned back onto the streets.

~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later you walked into a penthouse suite right behind Lewis.

“Why here?”

“Thought neutral ground would make you more comfortable.”

You scoffed and beelined right to the bar, tossing his suit jacket over the back of one of the bar stools. As you mixed yourself a drink you tried not to focus on him, but you did. No matter where he went you knew. You were hypersensitive to him at this point. You’d only meant to make a glass but ended up making a whole shaker cup. You kicked off your heels, climbed onto the bar stool then plopped yourself on the countertop. Once comfortable you crossed your legs and sipped your drink.

“Where’s Darius?”

“Not here obviously.”

“You and I are so alike it’s insane,” he said as he approached you, but he didn’t come close. He stopped at the sectional couches in the middle of the large living area and then sat.

The silence in the room was thick for such a long time you began thinking about leaving altogether.

“Congratulations again. I’m so fucking proud of you. You saw something you wanted and didn’t stop until you got it. You deserve this.”

Your stomach flipped hearing his praise. More than anyone he knew what you’d gone through to get here. It touched you. Looking away from him, you cleared your throat. “Thanks.”

His eyes remained on you as if daring you to look back at him. It was a dare you had to accept. Your eyes locked and you instantly felt it. There was so much to say. Just behind him, you saw something familiar. Squinting, you made out the painting you’d been staring at all night, the painting Darius wanted to bid on for you. It clicked then, the reason why Darius couldn’t win it was because Lewis claimed it first. You scoffed, the man was competitive and dominant to a fault. You couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture though.

Lewis sighed bringing your eyes back to him, “I don’t even know where to start,” groaned, rubbed his eyes then spoke again. “Maybe I’m sorry is a good place.”

You studied him for a few moments then took a mouthful of your drink. “For what?”

“You know for what.”

That night.

Those words hung in the air, and you did your best to remain aloof. Scoffing, you shook your head. “It’s all good Lewis.”

“You’re lying and you know it. I thought attorneys believed in the truth.”

“Who are you to tell me what my truth is?!”

You hadn’t meant to shout it, but you did.

“Because more times than not our truths match up and I am sure that what happened was not all good to you because it wasn’t to me.”

“And what exactly wasn’t all good to you?”

“The way we—I left things,” he quietly said.

You waited for him to continue because there was no way in hell you were going to make this easy for him. He wanted to talk so he’d talk. Lewis shook his head then hung it backward. He sat there staring into the ceiling for almost a full minute before he looked back at you.

“I just—flipped when we were—you were—you wanted--,” he stuttered.

You scoffed again, “Don’t flatter yourself, Lewis,” you said slipping into the barstool and spinning it around so your back faced him.

“What?”

“You and I both know that none of that meant anything to you. It’s all good.”

“Now who’s telling who what their truth is?”

You didn’t take the bait, instead, you kept your back to him and finished your glass.

“You forget, I know you, Lewis. 10 years of friendship and I know you so well that it was my own damn fault that night.”

“Whatdaya know?”

After refilling your glass you turned back around then hopped off the stool and walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. “I know that that you were with one of your rotation chicks before you came to pick me up. I smelled her on you. That fruity aroma was all her. I know that because of that tidbit of info, none of it meant anything.”

Leaning against the window you stared down at the view of London. Lights glistened down below, and you imagined everyone scurrying to where they had to go so wrapped up in their own thoughts or existence to even suspect that it all was fleeting.

“Okay, I’ll own that bit. Yeah, I was with one of them but that was only after I found out you were on a date.”

“So it’s my fault. I was on a date living my life, so you decided to get your dick wet. Okay.”

You took another sip from your glass not liking the direction of this little talk he wanted to have.

“I never said it was your fault. It’s just a fact. I texted you because I wanted to see you, wanted to spend time with you and you were spending time with someone else, someone you probably did God knows what with hours before you saw me.”

And with that, you were done here. Finishing the glass you turned and walked to the door.

“Good night Lewis.”

He scurried in front of you blocking your path. “Wait, please. Shit! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Two sorries in the span of twenty minutes, cool. Get out of my way.”

“No, Y/N, please wait.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sick and tired of waiting. I’ve waited 10 years!”

“You’ve waited? I’ve—.”

Lewis threw his hands up then walked away grunting and talking to himself. He looked insane and it kind of made you pleased seeing it. He always appeared so in control, so aware of himself and his actions at all times. It had all gone to shit now. You stood there debating if you should just leave and let things remain how they were until the day you both just stopped talking and checking in and it ended up going on for another 10 years until you were just people who used to know one another, people who’d missed out on something. It was then you realized you weren’t wearing shoes.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“I wanted you that night. I wanted you more than I had ever wanted anyone, including anyone in the rotation. Do you know what I was doing while you were on your date?”

“Getting your dick wet. I know.”

“I was lying on Julissa’s bed as she gave me head.”

You scoffed, “Of course you were.”

“She’d been going for 40 minutes and still I was barely hard. No matter what she did, no matter the tricks, no matter how nice it felt, barely hard. I was lying on her bed with my dick in her mouth thinking about you on your fucking date.”

You looked at him then. Those were words you hadn’t expected.

“My mind went crazy thinking what was happening. The longer that went by without you texting me the thoughts killed me. As soon as I got your message I left. No other thought, just you. I prayed to God that the date didn’t go well enough for you to let him upstairs. Then I saw what you were wearing, and I couldn’t believe I was jealous. I was jealous.”

“Why?”

Lewis looked at you then. “Because he got to see you like that. You’d dressed up for him, wanted to turn him on with that outfit. He’d spent the entire night with you. He’d had what I wanted.”

Well shit, you thought before walking back to the bar. Rather than making another drink, you took up a bottle of champagne and brought it to your lips.

“Do you know what it feels like to want someone so bad that it fucks with you and everything you do? To want someone more than you’ve wanted anything. To want someone in a way that is new to you, so new that it scares you. Do you know what it feels to have this crippling fear every time that someone is in your grasp, but not being able to resist the temptation, the desire to make them yours? Do you know what it feels like to know that you only burn this bright, this hot, this dangerous with one person, and the burn is all-consuming?”

He looked almost hysterical now. “Do you know what it feels like to want the perfect someone for you? I’m talking molded for you in every way while knowing it’s not the right time for you because you both want too much from the world and because you know that because you burn so hot, so bright that you’ll burn each other if either of you ever let go and let it happen? To know you are so similar that you will either destroy each other or ruin one another for anyone else.”

The look on his face was so damn relatable. He’d just said everything you’d thought over the last 10 years. Everything.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me.”

He was practically ranting now. Spewing every single thing that he’d ever thought, confessing it all.

“So because of all that you try to keep up pretenses that you’re friends and nothing more though you have countless moments where you slip up and stare at them too long, or hold them in your arms from a hug for half a minute too long, or let your hand linger in theirs or around their waist to test boundaries because you just can’t not touch them, or even find reasons to do every single thing together. You take those 2 steps forward not realizing you do because the pull is too strong, then you freak out and leap back 5 steps. You do this for weeks, months, years until 10 of them have passed and you have this huge box you’d filled with all the other stuff between you that you can’t express or fess up to until that box just gets stirred by one action, one moment--one night.”

His eyes were locked on yours. Somehow he’d traveled across the room to the bar and was standing right in front of you. Somehow he’d locked you in the frame of his arms leaving you nowhere to run. Somehow he’d managed to inflate your chest with hope right beside your thundering heart.

“Then suddenly—everything has changed, and nothing can be the same ever again,” he finished, his voice a whisper in the completely silent room.

You watched his eyes lower to your lips and your gut flipped again.

“Do you know what any of that feels like, Y/N?”

There were only mere inches between you now and the sheer proximity of his body to yours made you shiver.

“H—how long—have you—felt this way?”

Your voice quivered in a way that made it obvious to him what his nearness was doing to you.

“10--fucking years,” Lewis replied eyes glued to yours.

He took one step to you, “I’ve spent the last 8 months cleaning my life, cleaning my circle because I’ve gotten to the point where I could no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. You’re number one, Y/N.”

You were frozen in place, unsure what to say, and even more unsure what to do. He was right, your truths usually did line up and this was no different.

“And I know it scares you, shit it scares me too. All of this does. I know my life is insane and yours is about to be even more so, I get you still have things you want to accomplish; I saw your face when Halsey mentioned adding your name to the plaque. You want it and I want it for you as well as the world for both of us. Our timing can’t be any worse, but something has got to give, love, because I can’t take another year let alone 10 of this.”

You took a deep, ragged breath.

“Where--,” Lewis began before stopping and chewing his top lip.

It was a nervous tick. “Where do I—stand—with you?”

For 10 years he’d been so hard to read, so nearly impossible to gauge, and here right now in the darkness of the room you could see him as clear as day. He was oh so transparent and scared you’d reject him. Scared you’d decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Scared he’d just showed you his heart and ruined your friendship in the process. Without realizing it you were crying; you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Sniffling, you wiped it away, “Ehm, I broke up with Darius tonight.”

Lewis looked shocked. Clearly, he thought you were still together.

“Why?”

You wiped the other tear that fell from your eye then looked away from him. All of a sudden the room felt smaller than it was, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. Lewis cupped the back of your head cradling your skull in his palm making you look him in the eyes.

“Why?”

“For the last 8 months, I’ve been hot and cold with him, I pulled him close one minute then the next pushed him away, I disappeared a lot always using work as the excuse. I was busy, yeah, but it wasn���t work. I was always so reluctant to put a label on what we were doing, every time he brought it up I changed the subject never giving him the answer he wanted. Even when we had sex--.”

Lewis took a deep breath, dropped his head, and harshly released it, clearly displeased with confirmation that he’d had you that way, but you continued.

“Even then it was usually always on my terms, and I always wanted him to leave right after. I was—I was always thinking about someone else, something else instead of him, and for 8 months I never felt anything remotely close to what I felt that night with him. over the months every time I saw you it hacked at whatever was going on between me and him until tonight seeing you again it just--.”

You flicked your five fingers indicating an explosion. I’ve become hypersensitive to you, and I don’t know when it happened. It dawned on me that—I was using Darius and it wasn’t fair.”

Lewis searched your eyes not hiding the hurt in his. You took a step towards him. “You’re right about a few things. Our timing couldn’t be any worse.”

He nodded.

“Our truths usually always line up.”

Lewis looked hopeful then.

“Your life is insane.”

The hope faltered.

“I do want my name on that plaque, and I will get it.”

A small smile crooked his lips.

Another tear rolled down your cheek and again you wiped it away, “I can also no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. Always has been because you’re my number one.”

He clenched his jaw then and the emotion that washed over his face rocked you. Like an earthquake rocking the Earth’s surface.

“I am scared.”

As this tear rolled, Lewis was the one to reach out and gently wipe it with the pad of his thumb. Your lip quivered.

“I’m so scared.”

Lewis pushed forward then, crashing his lips to yours in one swift move. Once your lips met neither of you went slow. The kiss was frenzied from the beginning, both of you wanting it all and not wanting to waste any more time taking it. As his tongue rolled with yours you closed the space between you pressing your body against him. Lewis softly moaned, wrapping his arms around you. When you bit down on his bottom lip he groaned then walked you backward until your back collided with the edge of the bar. Trapping you there once again, he kissed you without holding a thing back and your body responded to him instantaneously.

In a matter of seconds, you both were moaning against each other and completely wrapped up in the new feelings that were consuming you. Lewis cupped your face as he kissed you then ran his hands down to your neck. You couldn’t deny that this felt even better than you imagined. Moaning, you clutched his waist but when that didn’t suffice, you slowly slid your hands up along his toned abs, over his chest taking in the bulge of muscle there. When you wrapped them around his neck, Lewis pressed more persistently against you.

“Mmmm!”

Lewis tore his lips from you and put his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I don’t want to get too carried away. I’m sorry I should have asked first.”

“Consent fucking given,” you said before you crashed your lips to his.

This time you took control. Swirling your tongue with his you didn’t give him time to react or gain the upper hand. You wanted to taste him, and you refused to wait any longer. Teasing his lips, you nibbled his bottom one, taking your time to sensually suck on it until he moaned against you. The vibration shot through you making you feel like you’d only now just begun to truly feel. Lewis’ hands roughly gripped your hips, holding you steady so you could feel that you weren’t the only one finally feeling for the first time.

Heightening both if your pleasure, you sucked his tongue until he groaned. The next thing you knew Lewis’ had you by the hips lifting you onto the bar top. You wrapped your thighs around him and nearly came when you felt his hands pry your legs apart. The heat radiating off of his hand on your bare thigh reminded you of the night in his car and you prayed he didn’t stop again.

As if reading your mind, Lewis met your eyes while he slid his hand higher and higher and higher until his fingers crawled to your inner thigh. Softly he raked his manicured nails against your skin forcing a whimper from you. You bit down on your bottom lip and silently willed yourself not to cum from the anticipation. Suddenly the back of Lewis’ fingers brushed against your sex. Your gasp was loud, breathy, and stretched out as he took his time moving centimeter by centimeter until he’d trapped your clit between his pointer and middle finger. Your jaw dropped all the while he held your gaze.

When he tightened his fingers and rubbed against you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You knew then he was dangerous, and you were going to cum.

“F—ha—fu-huck!”

Your back arched, head fell back as your body moved like it were possessed. Each spasm of pleasure had you bucking against his fingers until you could hardly breathe.

“My god you’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, love.”

You giggled and moaned as the tremors worked their way through you. “Mmm, orgasms and compliments, a girl could get used to this,” you cooed.

“Good. This is your future.”

Lewis moved his hand, brought them to your thighs then lifted them. As he planted your heels at the edge of the bar, you knew what he wanted. Your eyes dropped to his lips then you moaned. Pulling your dress away from your legs you allowed them to fall back to the bar showing him not only gymnasts were flexible.

“Oh fuck,” Lewis groaned.

You watched his eyes drop to your sex and the look on his face was unlike any you’d ever seen. No one had looked at you like this before. He stared where your thighs met like it was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen, the first of its kind and something he wanted to completely destroy. You now felt like prey spread before him like this, like at any moment he was going to pounce on you.

“Mmm.”

Lewis came closer and closer until he rested on his elbows and was just inches from your sex. The anticipation was killing, and he had to know it.

“I knew you were a lacy knickers kind of woman,” he muttered.

“I take it you’re a lacy knickers kind of man.”

“On you, fuck yes.”

With that, Lewis hooked his thumbs in your underwear and pulled them to the side. He blew out a breath in reaction to seeing you bare for the first time and that breath fucked you up all over again. You threw your head back trying to calm your anxieties, but just when you met his eyes again you found his tongue out sliding against your wet folds.

Oh—my—goooood!”

Lewis moaned and did it again and again until he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmm.”

Lewis pressed your thighs back keeping them spread then went to town. If you’d ever doubted before that his mouth game was incredible you didn’t now. He licked, flicked, and sucked along your flesh making your back remain in a prolonged arch. Within seconds you were whining and writhing as his tongue worked literal fucking magic. The sound of Lewis’ slurping echoed in the living room and that was when your hands grabbed his head. Pulling his hair free you held on and bucked against his mouth.

“Mmm.”

He stuck his tongue out and let you take over. With every buck against his tongue, you called his name and the more the tip of his tongue flicked your clit the more out of control you felt. Your release was so close your body moved more wildly needing it at all costs.

“I’m gonna cum Lewis.”

“Cum for me, Y/N!”

You didn’t need to be told more than once and when you were right on the precipice you felt Lewis slid two digits inside of you. Just like that, your orgasm morphed from a toe-curling release to soul snatching one. You screeched as your body convulsed but he didn’t stop then, he pumped his fingers in and out of you then added a third finger stretching you wide.

“Uuuugh fuck!”

You barely finished your words before Lewis threw you over his shoulder, keeping his fingers inside of you. As he walked through the suite his fingers kept fucking you, readying you for him. When your back met the soft sheets of the mattress, Lewis still hadn’t broken contact. He watched you now as you lay there unable to control your body.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Pulling his fingers free he cleaned two of them off before you sprang to your knees to claim the third. As you sucked his finger you kept your eyes on his. You could see how badly he wanted you, how much he wanted from you, and you couldn’t believe he’d held back all this time. You took your time sliding each button through its slot until his shit was wide open. When you pushed it off of him you took in a sight you’d seen plenty of times only now it was different.

You brought your hands to feel across his torso marveling at each defined ab muscle and each tattoo. When you intentionally rubbed against his beaded nipple you noted the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. How had you never noticed your effect on him? How had you never taken it seriously? Bringing your hands back to his waist you undid his pants. You brushed your palm against the protruding mass straining against his pants which made him shiver as he grunted.

“Oops.”

Lewis scoffed then licked his lips and that was all it took for him to claim back some of the control you possessed over this exchange.

“Of course, you’re a fucking tease.”

You innocently smiled. “I haven’t even begun to tease you.”

“I bet.”

Lewis snuck forward kissing you one peck at a time, over and over.

“Mm, can you take it?”

“Any other night my answer would be yes, hell in an hour my answer will be yes but right now--.”

He cupped your sex with on hand and the back of your neck with the other.

“Mmm.”

“Right now, I have no control left. I’ve remained in control around you for 10 years and right now I just want to let it all go. I want to bury myself so deep inside of you there is no mistake that we belong to each other bad timing or not. It’s you and me, Y/N.”

You groaned as his words only increased the wetness between your legs. You kissed him again, then you turned your back to him and swayed your body against him. Lewis dropped a kiss to your shoulder as his hand crept around to cup the underside of your breast. You leaned forward getting on all fours with your ass poking out to him.

“Undo me?”

He didn’t move for a few moments, and you waited for him to enjoy the view. When you felt his hand rub against your ass you dipped your back lower which only made your ass poke out more. Lewis trailed his hand along your spine that the backless gown proudly showed off. Then he went to your tailbone and lowered the zipper of the dress. Peeping over your shoulder, your eyes locked as you allowed the dress to fall away from your body.

His groan was low—primal. It was all you needed to hear to know he liked the strappy number you wore that was made of fine lace. You expected him to take his time but instead, you felt him peel off the garment leaving you completely naked before him for the first time ever.

“You’re so wet for me, Y/N. So wet and so fucking perfect.”

You spread your legs further then stretched your arms over your head using your head to hold you up. As expected, Lewis flipped you onto your back making you giggle. You roamed your hands over your body, cupping your breasts then sliding them down your abdomen to your dripping core. The entire time, Lewis kept his eyes on every move you made while he pulled his pants and underwear off.

When he stood bare before you, your surprise could not be masked. You didn’t know what you’d expected in your late-night thoughts about what he was packing but you had no way of expecting this. Lewis gripped his length then slowly stroked it as he pressed a knee onto the mattress.

“Scared?”

You bit your bottom lip as you gawked at what the good lord blessed him with. It was unfair and completely intimidating.

“Now I see why everyone in the rotation was so happy being one of many.”

He snorted, bringing his other knee to the mattress between. Slowly he stalked closer like a predator with a deadly weapon in hand.

“There is no rotation anymore.”

“Oh yeah. The LH44 Harem has been disbanded?”

As he crept closer, you slid backward.

“You’re not funny.”

“So am I the first to usher in a new era—a new harem?”

Lewis grabbed your ankle then pulled you back to him making the backs of your thighs slam into the fronts of his. He then hovered over you before dropping an opened mouth kiss on your nipple. Sucking the peak into his mouth he sucked raising your back off of the bed.

“You’re in no harem. I told you, it’s you—and me,” he said nibbling your flesh.

Stared at him letting it all sink in. You brought your hand to his bearded cheek and rested it there.

“Are we really doing this? Like—for real?”

Lewis boxed your face in with his muscular arms and stared into your eyes. “I’ve told you where I stand, Y/N. I’ve told you everything that’s in here.”

He took your hand and placed it over the roaring lion etched on his skin keeping his hand over yours.

“It’s time you tell me what’s in here,” he finished placing his other hand over your left breast.

“You,” you whispered.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Before you could react or even respond Lewis thrust forward sending the tip of his hardness inside of you, stealing your breath, and every thought. A breathy gasp filled the air. Slowly he pushed forward, leisurely filling you giving you time to adjust to his size.

“Haaaa.”

Lewis kept his hand over your heart while holding yours over his as he filled you inch by tortuous inch never taking his eyes off yours. Your entire being was on fire like he was pouring molten lava inside of you with every inch he gave you.  

“Oh fu—Lewis,” you panted.

From the way his jaw was clenched, and eyes focused intently on you, you could tell he was feeling everything you were.

“How are you so tight?”

Digging your nails into his chest you tightened your leg around his waist and as if that was his last straw, Lewis flicked his hips forward filling you completely and tearing a scream from both of your lips. Neither of you moved for several moments but with every second that passed by your body blazed. Bucking against him, you slid your hand up to his throat and then gripped it.

“I love you. Fuck me. Now!”

Those words would be your ruin because he did just that without mercy and complete recklessness. Your moans and whimpers melded together rising in decibel and power until the entire room shook with the power of your screams for one another. As he plowed inside of you he didn’t go slow, he followed his basal instincts that were imprinted in his DNA, a need to claim, and dominate.

You’d never felt so out of control in your life. No matter how he fucked you, you couldn’t get enough. No matter how deep he went you wanted him deeper. No matter how he called your name you wanted him to scream it. You wanted every fucking thing he had. You wanted to leave him in shambles. When he flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing, he held your ass in the air and fucked you so thoroughly you’d lost track of how many times you came. It didn’t matter because you wanted more.

He must have been able to read your mind because there was no way he could tell what you needed this soon, you thought to yourself as he grabbed your wrists and pulled you back, so he had your upper body hovering above the mattress.

“Oh my god, I’m cumming Lewis! Ooh shiiiiiit!”

He took advantage of this new angle and circled his hips as he jackhammered into you, fucking you as you did something you’d never done before—squirted. You screamed from the force of your release, but Lewis didn’t stop, he fucked you through it then torpedoed you into another one that you knew would tear you apart. Racing for it, you slammed yourself back into him relishing the mix of pain and pleasure that only intensified when Lewis bit down on your shoulder.

“You got one more for me, darlin? Cum for me. Soak this dick, pretty girl, drench me so I can fill that pretty pussy up.”

“Aaah!”

You clenched around him as you lost yourself and fell off the cliff and into an endless pit of pleasure. You felt Lewis spasm inside of you before he cursed and shouted his release doing just what he promised. Filling your pretty pussy up.

When the two of you finally collapsed on the bed Lewis held you to him spooning you while still being nestled inside of you. Bit by bit you came back to your body and slowly your body went from violent shakes to subtle tremors and a hazy feeling washed over you. Lewis peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder nipping your skin every now and then.

“Mmm. Oh my god!”

He snorted. “You good?”

“Good? Am I good? Are you—at the risk of swelling your head even more than it already is that was--.”

“Was?”

You searched for the words but couldn’t find the right ones. “It was,” you settled on making him laugh as he held you tighter.

“Naw, I was alright, you—you were,” he said making you snort.

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m being for real for real. It’s a miracle I held on that long, you feel unbelievable, so good, too good. You—are!”

You giggled then moaned, sleepiness creeping up on you.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, I’m nowhere near done with you.”

His manhood inside of you lurched nudging your g-spot and just like that your eyes snapped wide open.

“Watch yourself, I know your weakness now.”

“You?”

“Nope, this pussy.”

Lewis snorted then flipped you onto your stomach again. This time he straddled you as he slowly pulled out of you only to plunge right back in.

“Mmm.”

“Still so damn tight,” Lewis groaned.

“You’re welcome to try stretching me out.”

Lewis jerked his hips forward delivering a bruising thrust as punishment for your your sassy mouth. It was a thrust that took your breath and made you go cross-eyed.

“Mmm, yes!”

“Oh, aren’t you full of surprises. Pretty girl likes it rough and hard.”

He did it again and again, making you hit the bed each time as you buried your face in the sheet to muffle your screams.

“God yes, Lewis!”

“So fucking alike,” Lewis said before lowering his lips to your ear. “Remember I love you 'cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Not waiting for a reply he held your arms to the bed then delivered on his promise. Everyone else was number 2 compared to you being each other’s number 1. Nothing else mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #everyone else is no.2 one shot #black fanfiction

[soracities]

how do you know when you're getting good at poetry? everybody dunks on halsey and rupi kaur's poetry, and i never really got why and idk if that's what i sound like

Honestly, I don't think there's ever a point at which you "know" you're getting good at poetry--I think "good" and "bad" are kind of vague and amorphous (and distracting) categories that don't do much in helping us understand the feel and impact of certain writing, chiefly because they can also be deeply subjective. How a poet views a particular work and how a reader views it will be very, very different because their relationship to the work is different. I also think "good" is a sort of external category that does not (or should not) carry into the act of writing itself--when you make "is this good?" the chief consideration as you write, you're not actually present in the writing: you're focused on the finished product, not the process, but the process is the most important thing: that's where the poem actually meets you. I think growth, in writing, is less about knowing if you're "good" in this regard, and more about being able to have confidence, or simply just trust, in the writing as it happens.

There's a famous saying somewhere that a work of literature is never "finished"--it just stops. I think skill, when it comes to writing, lies in recognising where this point is, in learning and developing how you navigate what it is you want to say, and how you say it. Some poems, eventually, reach a point where you can take them no further and you know there is nothing more to be said in them or through them. Some poems reach a point where you can take them no further, but there is still something left to be said in them. Those poems get revisited, worked, and reworked again, until they (maybe) get close to the first category: this may mean you work on them for a few weeks, or for years--but either way you are prioritizing the process of making the poem, not how it will be received. "Is this a good poem?" in my view at least, is not really the relevant question--what's relevant is "is this true to what I wanted to say?" Leonard Cohen famously wrote over 100 drafts of "Hallelujah"--I don't know if the central question for him here was just a matter of his skills as a songwriter.

Regarding Halsey and Rupi Kaur, I've only been able to read Halsey's poems through previews on Google Books so I don't know what other people's critiques are--based on what I saw, though, I don't know if it makes sense to criticize their quality as "poems" when she is primarily a songwriter and a lot of those poems wound up as songs. I'm more familiar with Rupi Kaur's writing, though, and others like her (Atticus, Michael Faudet etc), and while I have a personal policy of not getting into Kaur online (there's an ask here which is about as much as I'm willing to say regarding my feelings on her writing)--I can get into this trend or poetry "style" as a whole. And to be honest I think the chief issue here with poetry like this is that poetry, by definition, involves a deep and intimate relationship with language: this holds true regardless of whether the poem is simple, or complex, whether it's 5 lines long or goes on for 50 pages. As I said in that previous ask, it's not something you can reduce to a formula, nor is it a matter of mere reportage or a collection of statements: what makes a poem has nothing to do with line breaks (prose poems exist), but everything to do with how the language moves, how the language of a poem engages with its own content, with itself, and, as a result, with the reader.

The kind of work that proliferates on Instagram does not have that kind of engagement with language--they are, to me, pieces of information more than anything else. They reduce language to a series of stock phrases that act, not as actual words, but as images (and I don't mean this in a visually evocative way). It tries to evoke something that requires a thoughtful and sustained examination in order to be expressed, by surpassing the reality of what that examination actually requires. It tries to ape the effect of a powerful poem without the work that goes into actually being able to make that kind of a poem in the first place: and that work is a sustained encounter and confrontation with the language used and its relationship to what it tries to convey, in understanding that words are not interchangeable blocks you move around willy-nilly but that they have weight and intention, that they interact with each other to build up an idea or a feeling or a landscape in the most accessible way (insofar as language can make anything accessible, at least). But this is rarely, if ever, felt in IG poetry because it refuses to recognize or respect the demands and requirements of the medium it uses.

And because it is lacking in this engagement and recognition, these poems are also, for the most part, lacking sincerity--and this, to me, is one of the most crucial things when it comes to writing. I recall one IG poet whose work was in the same class as someone like Atticus, but I also recall one of his poems which genuinely moved me--and it moved me because, unlike everything else on his account, that poem felt sincere: the structure and the language wasn't any different to anything else he wrote, but in reading it, it was not a question for me of whether it was "bad" or "good"--what made the impact was that it was honest: and the difference showed. You can't come into a poem with ulterior motives. You can't come into it without an understanding, or respect, for the language you use. I'm absolutely not policing what people should or shouldn't read, and I'm not saying people are wrong for liking these poems, either, or that Halsey, Kaur, Atticus et al., are wrong for writing them. Expression is expression, and what speaks to you speaks to you. And to be honest, it is a different kettle of fish when you are writing something purely for yourself (and I think allowing yourself to partake in any kind of artform, without worrying about needing to be good at it, is deeply important for the human spirit)--but because they are putting their work out publicly, if we are going to be evaluating what they write and how they write it, that evaluation has to be rooted in an understanding of the art form they intend their work to be a part of.

For me, these are the main issues I have with these writers and their work and why I just do not like them. But I also want to stress that, ultimately, what you sound like in your own poems, anon, does not matter as much as being sincere to yourself does. As I said, I don' like using terms like "good" and "bad" and I think that often they're fairly reductive (and sometimes outright pointless) categories to use when we talk about and assess poetry--more than anything else, the key to building a robust and informed discernment when it comes to poems is to simply just read--read a lot of it and read widely. The broader and richer your repository of poetry (and literature in general) is, the more informed you are when it comes to all the different ways language can move through a poem, and all the different impacts it can have as a result. It deepens and enriches your understanding of all the different ways of looking at something, questioning something, expressing something. Your vocabularly grows and deepens; your net of associations--visual, linguistic etc--strengthens. And when this understanding grows you are able to place the things you read into a much wider and far more informed context. And this in turn allows you to grow as a reader and a writer. I hope this helps you a little, anon 💕

#ask #anonymous #book talks

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

East Side

When I Was Young, I fell In Love

Bill could always remember the day he met you. Love at first sight was how he would always remember it from then on.

From years on he would remember sitting next to you on those old playground swings, no friends except his older brother by ten minutes, Tom.

"Hi."

Bill looked up, seeing your expantant smile. He could only return with confusion as he felt something fester in his chest.

"I'm (Name)."

He would remember your name for years on, saying it in his sleep and his wedding vows.

We Used To Hold Hands, Man, That Was Enough

"Your hands are nice."

Bill giggled at your words, sitting next to you in the small flower bed in the school courtyard, waiting for your parents to pick you up.

Then We Grew Up, Started To Touch

You sat across from Bill on the couch, leaning closer to one another at a mere fourteen years old.

Your lips were locked with his, deeming and experimental kiss as you both wanted to give each other your first kisses instead of someone else.

Bill's hand went up to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you both broke away for air only to come back for more.

Used To Kiss Underneath The Light On The Back Of The Bus

You leaned your head onto Bill's shoulder on the tour bus, watching the trees flying by.

Bill held your hand in his as you lulled off to sleep, pecking the crown of your head.

You looked up at him through half lidded and sleepy eyes, smiling tiredly as Bill smiled back before locking lips with you under the glow of the back of the bus.

Oh, No, Your Daddy Didn't Like Me Much

"How many times do I have to say, kid, get lost." Your dad scoffed, holding the door open barely as he saw Bill standing on your porch.

You watched from the hall, locking eyes with Bill as he could see your sadness from there.

"Oh, come on, sir! I love your daughter! I swear!" Bill didn't stop, pleading with your father for one chance.

Didn't Believe Me When I said You Were The One

"I don't believe you, Bill." Your father shook his head, a rock in Bill's way to you.

"You think I don't know your kind? Some 'rocker' tryna sleep with my kid?" Your father scoffed once more, about to close the door but Bill held it open abruptly.

Bill looked at your father with wide eyes, barely believing he did it but there was no backing down now.

"Please! I'm not trying to hurt her, I love your daughter!" Bill couldn't say anything else, looking at you with bare tears in his eyes.

"Sorry kid, answer no." Your father said simply, stern and strong before he pulled the door to a close.

Bill was left there for a moment, staring down at his feet with the closed door in front off him.

It didn't take long for him to need to walk off the porch, hands in his jacket pockets before he stopped just in front of the lawn at a tapping sound.

"Bill!"

Bill's head shot up at the familiar and harsh whisper, looking up to see you in your bedroom window.

"I'll meet you later! Be quiet!" You smiled, reassuring Bill in a whisper before your father called you, and with one last smile, you disappeared.

Bill stood for a moment, hope sparking once more in his chest before his face bloomed into a smile, jogging off to his house to get his things.

But Everyday She Found Her Way Out Of The Window To Sneak Out Late

"I'm coming!" You hissed out in a harsh whisper, throwing your legs over the window sill with an expectant Bill waiting below.

"Come on, before your dad kills me!" Your boyfriend laughed, matching your smile as he helped you down by your waist.

"Go, go, go!" You laughed, adrenaline filling your veins as Bill matched your laughter, dragged along with you as your dad and mother's room light lit up as you two ran into the night.

She Used To Meet Me On The East Side

Bill sat in the old recording studio, freshly eighteen and single without you, barely words through the early years of the 2000's.

Until you walked back into his life.

"You look like shit."

Bill froze, hands stopping and completely still on the spinning chair he sat upon at the familiar voice filled with the same love and teasing he remembered.

Bill finally looked up, eyes wide and searching before his eyes fell upon your dazzling smile as he remembered, older and more mature, still as beautiful as the day he left.

"(Name)?" Bill muttered, a smile breaking onto his face as you laughed, nodding and opening your arms.

Bill didn't waste a moment, getting up so fast the chair knocked over, lifting you up off the ground as he hugged you around your waist.

You laughed, yelling as he did so and wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

You pushed the hair out of his face as you finally stole a kiss you waited forever for.

In The City Where The Sun Don't Set

You laid nuzzled into Bill's side in the meadows grass, the sun never seeming to fully settle behind you guys as Bill held you.

Bill wouldn't let go, stealing kiss after kiss to makeup for the years behind you guys.

And Everyday You Know That We Ride Through The Backstreets In A Blue Corvette

"You're crazy!" You yelled, head out the window and laughed as Bill laughed along, the empty street in the middle of nowhere as he pushed the gas.

"You were the one who wanted to do this!" Bill protested along, barely missing a bush.

"Yeah, because you guys did this before in an episode! But I just remembered that it was Tom and Georg…"

"I was there too!" Bill yelled out.

"You won a go-kart race!" You yelled back, smacking his hand.

"Still counts!"

And You Know That I Just Wanna Leave Tonight

"Will you come with me?" Bill could barely hear his small voice over the fear of being shut down.

"To LA?" You asked, sitting next to him on the bed as he ran his thumb over the back of your hand in his house, the house he and Tom no longer felt safer in, much less the country.

"We can't stay here. Fans break in, they stole our shit, they're threatening you." Bill listed off, the fear evident in his voice as he looked into your eyes.

"So, yes, to LA. Will you come with me?" Bill said, completely serious and genuine as his eyes practically begged.

You stared into Bill's eyes for a moment, going over it before you came to a conclusion.

You left to be with him.

What's stopping you from leaving with him?

"...okay."

"...alright. lets- let's go."

We Can Go Anywhere We Want

It was almost a ritual, sitting next to Bill with your head on his shoulder no matter in what type of moving vehicle.

This time it was in a plane, watching your old home country disappear from under you as you took off.

But all that Bill could think was how lucky he was.

His hand in yours, your head against his shoulder and his lips kissing the crown of your head, leaving once more to stay with you.

Drive Down To The Coast, Jump In The Seats

"Bill!" You laughed, jumping into the open roofed Corvette that was parked on the beach in the middle of the night.

"What was that?" Bill laughed as you settled into the seat, feet bare and in your swimsuit as you smelled of the coast.

"The Pelicans! They're after me!" You laughed hysterically, Bill's eyes widening in horror and amusement as he finally spotted them.

"Why?!" Bill exclaimed, starting the car as fast as he could.

"I fed them and they want more!"

"There's fifty signs not to for that exact reason!"

My Love Is Yours If You're Willing To Take It

"You're leaving though." You mumbled out sadly, against Bill's chest on the trunk of his car as he broke the news of the tour when you guys were just fifteen, years before.

"I know. I'm sorry…" Bill couldn't help but apologize again for the next time you lost count. Everything to be with you was going down the drain to his career.

But he had to go.

"It's okay. Got to love you while you were here." You sniffled, wiping your tears as you placed your chin on his shoulder, smiling sadly up at him.

"You'll keep all my love, I know you will." Bill smiled back sadly, pushing back a tendril that fell in front of your face.

"...take mine with you?" You said, mumbling out as Bill nodded, kissing your temple with his arm around your shoulder.

"Of course, I'd never leave it behind." Bill laughed softly, his fingers running through the ends of your hair as he kept your legs in his lap.

"Not even when you find someone new?" You joked almost, but Bill shook his head immediately, massaging your thigh before he punched it playfully.

"There'll never be someone new. Can't be after there's already you."

Give Me Your Heart Cause I Ain't Gonna Break It

Bill held your hand with one of his with his other on your waist, relishing in the sound of your laughter as he spun you in the hotel room.

You laughed, tripping over your own feet as he yelped while laughing even more, catching you into his chest as you two collided into a pile of limbs on the floor.

As Bill held you in his arms on the floor with a smile, he couldn't help but admire and share a kid with so much love in his eyes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan @lyzit @trixiekaulitz @laylasbunbunny @5hyslv7 @limaswife

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #Spotify

[youremyheaven]

Cancer Girls: Baby Voice Edition

I've noticed a pattern with many female celebrities who are known for their "baby voice" and I thought I'd make a post about it. Since Mercury is what affects our voice and style of speech the most, I'll be looking at Mercury placements along with big 3.

Obviously not everyone on this list has a natural baby voice, in fact I'd say the majority of them speak in a very affected pseudo baby voice for which they've become known. I had previously observed how Cancer rashi women do this THE most but here are more examples.

Marilyn Monroe

The OG Ingenue who was known for her breathy baby voice. She has Rohini Sun & Mercury along with Ashlesha Rising

2. Pamela Anderson

She has Ardra Sun, Punarvasu Mercury and Mrigashira Rising

3. Paris Hilton

She has a Pushya Moon and is known for her fake baby voice which her mother claimed she learned from her.

4. Drew Barrymore

She is Punarvasu moon & Mrigashira Rising

Many have noted that a lot of famous Punarvasus have a slightly ditzy way of speaking/demeanour. Almost all Mrigashiras have a very hyper, enthusiastic, kind of frantic and restless way of being and talking. They actually embody "golden retriever energy". I think the combination of these two nakshatras results in Drew's childlike enthusiasm and kind of frantic manic way of speaking and behaving. A lot of people think she's weird 😭but it's just her nature, even Pamela Anderson who shares similar placements has a similar demeanour.

5. Wonyoung

She has Punarvasu Venus conjunct Saturn (both of them are exactly conjunct so idk which one would be her amatyakaraka) and she has received a lot of flak for her "fake baby voice" 😭 Her real voice is naturally deeper and more mature but honestly Wonyoung is such a good example of a Jupiter dominant woman; they are obsessed with presenting themselves a certain way and are very "image conscious", this truly extends to everything from clothes, style, etiquette, speech, voice, absolutely everything. They know exactly what behaviours will elicit what responses.

6. Halsey

She is Punarvasu Moon (atmakaraka) & Mars along with Swati Mercury & Rising

She's known for singing in cursive 😭 but also just has a very sugary high pitched speaking voice. If you observe her even she has a very expressive, animated way of speaking, she's not quite ditzy but she's still almost childlike in her demeanour from time to time.

7. Ariana Grande

She is Ardra Sun & Punarvasu Mercury and she rose to fame for playing a ditzy airhead on Nickelodeon. She in fact spent many years speaking like Cat Valentine off screen as well until she underwent an image revamp in the mid 2010s and adopted a blaccent.

This video shows how when she was younger not only did she have a fake baby voice, she also had a very different slightly ditzy demeanour.

8. Shehnaaz Gill

She is an Indian reality star turned influencer who is known for her baby voice and exaggerated cutesy mannerisms. She is Pushya Moon.

(the interview is mostly in Hindi but you can observe her mannerisms and way of speaking)

9. Melissa Rauch

She has Punarvasu Mercury (amatyakaraka) and played Bernadette on Big Bang Theory where she spoke in a distinctive high pitched voice whereas in real life, her voice is entirely different.

10. Kristen Bell

She has Punarvasu Sun & Mercury. She literally voiced Princess Ana in Frozen. Watch any interview of hers and you will see how expressive she is when she talks, she uses her hands a lot, her face is so animated and its so Punarvasu like🥰

(Tumblr does not allow me to embed more than 10 videos per post so I'll just be linking the rest)

11. Jennifer Garner

She's Mrigashira Moon (atmakaraka), UBP Mercury, Rohini Stellium (Venus, Mars & Saturn)

She's a very good example of a typical Mrigashira. She always speaks like a very sweet, enthusiastic kid; very expressive, very animated.

Here's a link to her interview.

12. Mandy Moore

She's Revati Sun (atmakaraka) , Pushya Moon, Mrigashira Rising

She voiced Rapunzel in Tangled and imo Rapunzel is Tangled is a veryyyy good example of Mrigashira behaviour in many ways but especially with her mannerisms and manic pixie like behaviour which makes sense since she was voiced by a Mrig actress.

Here's a link to Mandy speaking

Here's a link to Rapunzel in Tangled

13. Jenny Slate

She is UBP Sun & Moon and Punarvasu rising

Her sense of humour and how she delivers jokes is a good mix of UBP and Punarvasu

Here's a link to a stand up bit

I've noticed that many Pisces rashi folks (UBP & Revati) are very expressive storytellers and have a very specific style of delivery (Salma Hayek, UBP Moon is a good example and so is Rihanna, Revati Moon).

Jenny has the dryness/deadpanned delivery of UBP mixed with the expressive frantic style of Punarvasu

14. Anna Kendrick

She is Ashlesha Sun (atmakaraka) & Mercury (amatyakaraka)

She has that typical Cancer girl sense of humour and speaking style

Here's a link

15. Mindy Kaling

She is Ardra Sun & Moon, Rohini Rising with Punarvasu Mercury

She rose to fame playing Kelly Kapoor who is a very typical Cancer gal tbh, replete with the slightly ditzy, hyper & manic style and mannerisms and squeaky excited voice.

Here's a link to her being Kelly

Here's a link of her as Mindy Lahiri on The Mindy Project

`16. Leslie Mann

She is UBP Sun, Revati Mercury and Pushya Ketu

Here's a link to an interview but Leslie is such a good example of this ditzy, kind of naive way of speaking. Her mannerisms and the way she delivers is so Pisces girlie of her.

17. Lana del Rey

She is Ardra Sun, Ashlesha Moon & Punarvasu Mercury

Lana is a good example of an introvert Cancer gal. People often think they're kind of weird and kookie and they have a chaotic kind of manic pixie way of speaking and behaving that it throws people off.

Here's a link, her speaking voice sounds very young and soft.

18.Rose Byrne

Pushya Sun & Moon, Ashlesha mercury

She's usually more composed and elegant but when she's more comfortable you see that Cancer girl charm come out. One thing all these women have in common is how they like to act out their stories and be very expressive with their face and body; their sense of humour is very silly and slapstick.

Here's a link

19. Emma Bunton aka Baby Spice

she is Pushya Sun, Mercury and Venus

(isnt it sweet that someone whose alter ego is literally called Baby Spice is a Cancer stellium 🥺)

Here's a link but Baby Spice is also a good example of a less manic but still very cutesy Cancer girl

Many Cancer girls have a tendency to "act cutesy" or "babyish" but also more often than not they are just very in touch with their inner child and kind of goofy and silly.

20. Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen

They're Mrigashira Sun, Punarvasu Mercury & Ashlesha Rising

If you've watched Full House or any of their movies, you can see the ditzy girly girl behaviour of Punarvasu come out but irl they're more introverted and a little awkward, sort of like Lana and seem funny in a shy way.

Claire Nakti had observed in her Swati video about how Swatis and Punarvasus share certain similarities, I've seen this extend to their behaviour and mannerisms as well. Jennifer Tilly, Mila Kunis (both Swati Moon) and Emma Stone (Swati Sun) all have a very similar energetic girly, sweet and humble but kind of kooky and silly style of speaking and story telling.

#sidereal astrology #astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #nakshatras #vedic astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology #astroblr #Youtube

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Chapter 8

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

CW: a whole lot of fluff, intense feelings, angst, self doubt, slight reference to depressive symptoms, crystal appears for the first time (she's reader's best and only actual friend), playful teasing between friends, crystal is a sweetheart, some funny/feel good parts, protective neteyam, neteyam flirting with reader, heated make out session, sharing the same bed trope (idk if it counts lol), cuddling, sexual tension, kissing, mentions of being turned on, moaning, love confessions, neteyam licking reader's neck, neteyam using his fangs to tease reader in a sexual way, reader still feels a bit weird about her deep love for neteyam, bad words, melancholic vibes, reader is gradually letting go of her fears and diving deep into her relationship with neteyam. Lemme know if I forgot anything

Hi, my babies! I hope y'all like this chapter. I only had the inspo to finish it today ahaha comments are always VERY appreciated by this author! 💕 I love all my readers. You guys give me a reason to go on and not give up on my dreams (I think some of you already know I dream of becoming a pro writer one day) even when everything is dark around me.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 7

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

They think I'm insane, they think my lover is strange

But I don't have to fucking tell them anything

And I'm gonna write it all down, and I'm gonna sing it on stage

But I don't have to fucking tell you anything

That's the beauty of a secret

You know you're supposed to keep it

Strange Love (Halsey)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Yesterday had been a mess of a day. But it also ended up being one of the best days you had in such a long time. You finally had the courage to tell Neteyam about how you truly felt about him.

Today you were gonna see Neteyam at night again. You two had come to a conclusion that he would spend some time with you in your room during the eclipse. The fact that the both of you would be alone in your room for hours, when you would be wearing only a nightgown (you just were not a pajamas kind of girl) made you feel nervous in a good way. The butterflies in your stomach were flying round and round and they would not leave you alone. It felt good, though. That kind of euphoria made you forget the many things in life that would make your heart hurt way too often.

You were cooking in the lab kitchen and singing to yourself, in a low tone, excited, thinking about seeing Neteyam's beautiful big blue face again, his bioluminescent freckles adorning his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin… He was so perfect. At least to you. You did not care if the other humans found his appearance weird.

Crystal was there in the kitchen with you, her back hunched as she cleaned the floor using a high tech machine that resembled a mixture of a broom and a vacuum cleaner and had green and blue lights that shone in irregular patterns throughout its handle. She noticed how happy you looked and smiled.

"What's up with you, (y/n)? You've been so down lately and now you're singing while preparing food?" She teased you in a friendly way, laughing slightly.

Crystal was such a sweet girl. She was so calm and nice to everyone, even when treated badly. You admired that quality in her.

She was a beautiful asian girl with straight raven black hair and pale skin that contrasted with her hair, making her look angelic to you. Her smile was also so kind. It was her smile that made you trust her and befriend her the first time you both spoke.

You laughed shyly while looking at her "It's nothing, Crys." That was the nickname you gave her "I'm just a bit happy today. You should be happy for me instead of teasing me!" You were now not shy but mischievous "You're the one who's always telling me to see the good in life, despite the darkness. That's what I'm trying to do." You looked back at the meat you were seasoning and thought that Neteyam was the light in the middle of darkness for you at the moment

Crystal approached you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek "Whatever you say, little bat. I just wanna see you happy. That's truly all I want." She would always call you "little bat" because she told you that you have kind of a gothic vibe, since you're not really that into socializing and prefer your own company most times and you don't really smile at strangers. According to Crystal, that made you mysterious. You thought that was a bit cheesy but again, not your words. Crystal was the one claiming that. You laughed internally.

"I know, my Crys. And I love you so much for that. You're the best friend I could ever ask for."

"See?! You're all sappy! Something good happened! This is not just you deciding to be positive all of a sudden. If something happened, you better tell me, you hear me?!" She teased but you knew she also really wanted to know 

Sometimes you hated how she could see right through you because you didn't always want to tell her all that was in your mind, even though you loved her so much and she was your best friend. Like now, for example. You couldn't tell her about Neteyam. That was something that, at least for now, would have to be kept a secret. You could only hope Derek would be decent enough to keep his word and not tell anyone about what had happened when Neteyam saw you and him kissing.

༊⁀➷

Even though it was cold, you kept your window unlocked and slightly open that night once again - a small gap, as always - just so Neteyam could come inside your room through it.

When you saw him approaching your window, his dark blue skin looking almost magical in the dark of the eclipse, his big size now exciting you instead of scaring you, your heart started beating so fast, it was just like it was in a running competition.

You practically jumped from your bed to the floor and walked as fast as your nervous legs would let you towards the window. Neteyam smiled at you so widely. Damn, were his fangs sexy… He barely got there and you were already getting turned on.

"Neteyam!" His name came out of your mouth in such a happy tone

"Hi, hi'ì emyu. You look so pretty tonight. I missed your pretty face."

Your heart started beating faster even if it seemed like that wasn't even possible to begin with.

"You're making me blush. Stop!" You laughed nervously as you opened the window for him "Come in." You wanted to call him "baby" or something cute like that but he made you so nervous with his confident but kind and warm personality that you still couldn't manage to do that.

Once he was inside your room, he knelt down in front of you - so your size difference wouldn't be so ridiculously big -, cupped your face with both his big blue hands and kissed your lips quickly. It wasn't a long kiss but it was enough to make your legs feel weak.

"It's late, oeyä tawtute. You have to rest. You should lay on your bed while we talk. I can lay by your side. But only if you feel comfortable with that." He looked you in your eyes, trying to let you know that now he would always try his hardest to respect your boundaries

You thought that the way he was taking care of you was so lovely. It made your heart melt, honestly. And the thought of Neteyam laying next to you in your bed, your bodies so close to each other since the bed would be incredibly small to his na'vi body, made you say "yes" immediately, without thinking twice. You wanted him that close to you so bad. You had missed him all day.

Neteyam was beyond happy with your answer. You walked towards your bed and Neteyam walked right behind you. Soon enough, the both of you were sharing your bed.

"Neteyam…" Your voice echoed in the cold air of your room but Neteyam's warmth was keeping you cozy, his body pressed against yours as you both cuddled in your bed that looked ridiculously small when Neteyam was laying on it, all curled up to be able to fit there with you.

"What, yawntu?" He looked at you with eyes so tender, they made your heart feel warm and you felt truly loved after such a long time not even knowing how that felt like

"I'm sorry I didn't say it back when you said it… but… I love you too. I love you so much. I don't even know how I can feel so deeply for you if I met you not that long ago. It's been what? 4 days?" You looked concerned 

Neteyam touched your face, making you feel the heat of his big hand all over your skin

"Stop thinking too much. Just let it be. Just feel what you feel for me and don't try to reason about it. What matters is what we feel for each other. What matters is that your heart beats fast for me and so does my heart for you." 

Even though Neteyam had just reassured you, seeming to be calm and unbothered, your words did surprise him. When he first told you, in his people's language, that he loved you, you did not say it back. He tried to think it was just you still being overwhelmed with the odd situation that being in a relationship with a na'vi was to you - he knew that the fact that you two were from different species still weirded you out a bit - but he couldn't help but feel insecure. Now that you had finally declared your love for him, he felt like he could finally breathe and that horrible fear of losing you started to slowly go away.

You breathed deep and nodded. You knew he was right. You were a chronic overthinker.

Neteyam gently brought his lips to yours and gave you a kiss full of care and love. He pressed his plump, soft lips against yours and you kissed him back. You both kept your lips together for a few seconds and slowly parted, looking inside each other's eyes. There was trust there. There was something special between you both, a bond, an energy, something that you never found anywhere else before. Nobody made you feel what Neteyam did.

"I wanna tell you something."

"Please do" Neteyam started to run his slender four fingers through your hair

"I was so afraid you weren't gonna come back for me after that night when I screamed at you." Your heart hurt as you admitted that to him, but you tried not to let it show

"Do you really think I would let you go that easily? (Y/n), listen to me. I know, I just know, right here," Neteyam tapped on his chest, right where his heart was "that I will love you forever. Even if I did everything in my power to get you to be mine and I still failed, I'd still love you until the day I die. So, no, I wasn't gonna give up on you just like that. I'm the Mighty Warrior, remember?" You laughed at the silly name Neteyam calls himself as he smiled at you and chuckled "I'd fight for you until the end, hi'ì tawtute." (small human) "That's a war I'm not willing to lose. No way."

"But I treated you so badly…" You furrowed your eyebrows, gazing at him with sadness and guilt in your face

"I know… but to be fair, like you said, you're not used to my na'vi behavior. I came on too strong. I'm sorry. It's just what you do to me. It's all your fault! You're too beautiful!" His expression quickly changed from ashamed - when he was apologizing - to playful, as he got closer to the end of the sentence and he smiled at you, winning back another smile from you.

His smile was one of the purest things you had ever seen. Perhaps the purest one. So precious.

"Can I ask you something?" You spoke

"Anything, yawntutsyìp." 

"Why do you say I'm "more na'vi than human"?" I know you already explained what you mean a little bit back when we first met but… I'm gonna need more than that." You looked at him chuckling softly, wondering, as your eyes showed him how much you wanted to know the answer

"I think it should be obvious to you as much as it is obvious to me." Neteyam smirked, playfully 

"Why so?" You smiled, confused 

"I wish you could see yourself from the outside, like I can see you. I wish you could see how miserable you look living your human life, cooking and washing dishes inside that kitchen. But, when you're in your Avatar… you smile so widely, you exude childhood wonder, your happiness is so, so contagious… It's like you feel truly alive like that, like you feel free and at home. It's so beautiful to watch. That's why I used to always watch you." He smiled looking down, bashful

༊⁀➷

Some time had passed and it was now getting only a few hours away from the end of the eclipse. You knew Neteyam had to go back to his tribe soon enough. But you didn't want him to go. You wanted him to stay forever by your side, not being parted from you for a single second, as clingy as that sounded. And the best part is: you were almost sure he felt the same way. Okay, if you were to only listen to the rational voices in your brain and not to the voices telling you that you were unlovable, you knew Neteyam felt the same way. You could just feel it in the air when he was around you.

And at that moment, he was showing you how much he needed you in a way that was making you feel things you hadn't felt in so long.

Neteyam was licking the sensitive skin of your neck, making you let your head to the side, leaving more space for him to keep on doing that, as you closed your eyes and moaned, almost too loud, at the way his large tongue lapped on your neck, tasting the skin and massaging it gently. Saying that felt like Paradise would be an understatement. You had no fucking words to even start to explain what he made you feel.

"Oeyä tawtute… my yawne…" he cooed on your ear, kissing the earlobe and using his sharp teeth to nible on it a little bit "You're mine now. All mine, my muntxate." (female mate) 

Neteyam wrapped his tail around your right leg. That felt possessive but in a good way. It made you feel safe. Like belonging to him was not gonna be such a scary, anxious experience at all to you. He seemed to already know you. Neteyam held you just the way you liked it and you wanted him to keep his big arms wrapped around you for eternity. He felt just like an overused, old t-shirt that was already so used to your body that it felt extremely comfy and relaxing on your skin, making you wish you could go everywhere wearing that t-shirt. So familiar and safe.

Even if your brain still tried to tell you it was totally insane to feel like that about a guy - a na'vi - you had just met, you didn't give a damn anymore. Your sick brain already made you suffer a lot in so many areas of your life. You wouldn't let that fucking pink squishy organ ruin your relationship with Neteyam. Not anymore.

༊⁀➷

"How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art"

Juliet Capulet - Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

༊⁀➷

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[tiktaalic]

tortured poets review. by song

fortnight: fine. sounds like a song. one of the lana drag ones. the actual lyrical content is nothing special. i would not have made this track one. 6/10

tortured poets department: kind of exactly what you would expect from a taylor swift album called tortured poets department. it's silly. it's got references. it makes you go. girl? already less distinct musically. 3/10

my boy only breaks his favorite toys: the consequence of doing lana drag is that you listen to songs and go this would be a lot better if lana got her chords on it. fundamentally not a song that i can enjoy from taylor allison swift. a song i would respect in lana of video games fame catalogue once she strips it down. not like head turningly strange like tpd just plain and simple middle of the road. 4/10

down bad: this one is unlistenable for me. cant explain why. probably the chorus of down bad. i think it's tooooooo silly too silly by far when taylor swift does how do you do fellow teens vocabulary. 2/10

so long london: i can see the place that this takes on my spotify wrapped. lyrics are fine. good even. this + backing + doing something even the littlest bit different from soft monotone talk singing makes it one of the most memorable on this album by miles. probably not near the top of most memorable in her hundreds deep bench though. can't think of anything to dock it for but it's no belter. 8/10.

but daddy i love him: yeah okay. i love when she does a silly one. i think the instrumentals are nice. i'm having his baby. no i'm not! but you should see your face. easily i would listen to an album that was full of songs to this theme / musicality. points docked because i dont think she knows it's as silly as it is. 7/10.

fresh out the slammer: bored. i just looked at the lyrics and they're passable but they're performed in the most boring possible manner. stupidest name imaginable. i actually might bump it a point or two if the name was different. 4/10

florida: makes me go yaaaaaay florence every time i hear it. taylor's part halsey 2014 core. could have been worse! if i was in charge of cutting tracks i would keep this one. 6/10

guilty as sin: started it went oh i'm docking this one for boring. read the first quarter of lyrics and went oh this is fine? got to second half and went oh i don't care for this. can imagine a world where it's a better song with different backing and emphasis. 5/10

whose afraid of little old me: i dont think it's good necessarily but i love every song where shes like im craaaazy im insane. i think for the concept it's going for it could have been put together differently. 6/10

i can fix him: i like the way it sounds. but could use more oomph. it's so nice to hear guitars though. don't care for the subject matter. 5/10

loml: snooze. boring lyrics. boring performance. 4/10

i can do it with a broken heart: BAFFLING. easily the me / karma of the album. the tonal mismatch is the point but . well. it is what it is. i would like this more if it WAS a barbie soundtrack release i think. then it would have an extra layer of silly. i think this might make my wrapped. unfortunately. 5/10.

smallest man who ever lived: who gives a shit about matty healy. 4/10

the alchemy: head in my hands. head in my hands. football song. it's so over. and we are never going to be so back. 3/10

clara bow: i like the intro. i can't see myself ever doing more than half humming this. lyrics are whatever. fine, passable. 6/10

the black dog: yeah it's fine. no complaints. guitar 👍. 6/10

getyouback: why would you EVER tee yourself up perfectly to be compared to a better song. 3/10

albatross: oh i liked this one on first listen. 7/10.

chloe sam sophia marcus: outing song ‼️‼️‼️divorce music‼️‼️‼️. nothing too exciting or groundbreaking musically. 5.5?

how did it end: um. it gets points for being #real but not much else. 5/10.

so high school: i think i would like it if it was even a TOUCH less heterosexual. i would cut 3 lines that would turn it into a 6. i can see this song in someone else's hands dominating the radio and me loving that. in taylor's hands i'm giving it a 5/10.

i hate it here: not interesting. next. 4/10

thank you aimee: out of respect for taylor swift's struggles i will withhold comment and rating. -_-

look in people's windows: lyrics aren't bad but it's another one that's not really. doing anything. 4/10

the prophecy: yeah i'll give this one a 7/10. i would have one (1) greige complaint if this was on folkevermore but that's pretty damn solid.

cassandra: passing it and moving on. that's as much as it deserves. 5/10

peter: lyrics get a thumbs up. another 5.5? i could be talked into a six.

the bolter: yes girl commitment issues. 6/10. actually. 7/10.

robin: jesus god this album is too long. i have listened to too much taylor swift tpd to give this any kind of rating.

the manuscript: 5/10. like if woulda coulda shoulda had no beat

thank you for sharing this journey. with me and also taylor swift

#etxt #t swift

[twyftwyt]

this is going to be a long one, so prepare yourselves, cause I need to get some stuff off my chest

All that’s wrong in the BO fandom and with BO themselves:

1. Proper media training - I think none of the boys in the band, aside from Noah, have proper media training and it shows in interviews. I feel like, with them growing so big over the last year, they need to take some proper time and do that, so we can save each other the little awkward moments where interviewers ask weird questions or make even weirder statements and the guys just sit there looking a little lost.

2. Their crew needs to chill (at times) - Now I understand that every fandom has got their crazies, it’s a part of the lore, but come on! I’ve seen not once or twice, crew members being mean towards the fandom, calling us dumb and whatnot. If I see something I don’t like or find weird/stupid/pointless/delusional, I might share it with my friends, but I won’t go around posting about it on my story/twitter. There are people in this fandom that go overboard and need to be shown the door, but when you show disrespect to one, you show disrespect to all and that, I feel, needs to be stated somewhere. Matt is unnecessarily mean sometimes and so are Steven and other crew members. I feel like if I were in their position, I’d probably want to call out people on their shit too, but no need to do it ALL THE TIME.

3. The band is too closed off - And don’t get me wrong here, I understand and respect boundaries, but it sounds and feels a little contradictory when the lead singer of the band says in an interview that he feels closer to some of the artists he listens to, because he’s read their life story. The irony in that is massive. When you deny fans of little things like posts here and there, sharing a little something personal (example: Dove Cameron, Halsey, Thirty Seconds to Mars are all artists that make and write their own music and I’ve heard at least one story from each of them on how a personal event inspired said song). So when you deny fans of little things like that, you get obsessive people who try ro dig up your personal life, just to feel a bit more connected to your music. Everything can be regulated, I feel, if done and said right.

4. They all (the band and crew) need to collectively accept the fact that the band’s becoming massive, which means that they will attract all kinds of fans. Fans that will be there only for Noah. Fans that will be there only for TikTok hits like “Just Pretend” and whatnot. And they’d benefit so much more from those people if they just knew how to use everything to their advantage. Now one little comment from the crew sets the whole fandom ablaze. They’re not a small town band supporting bigger acts on tour anymore.

ok, I’ll stop yapping now and remember, this is just my opinion, you don’t have to agree with it and you also don’t have to argue with me on it ✌🏻

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson

[maybeyouaredreaming]

Do you ever shut the fuck up?

Matty's on one and he's doing your head in with his childish antics. 3062 words. matty x fem reader Warnings - sliiight shame kink/power play, minor substance use, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, romantic choking?? passionate hate fucking, mostly a lot of torturous grinding like teenagers I have ten years' worth of Matty thoughts in my head. Please be kind this is my first fic! My friend made me publish this and I ended up accidentally deleting my 12-year-old blog trying to make a sub-blog so I hope it's worth it, that thing was my entire identity. Feel free to leave me your thoughts xx

He’d been on one since the Brits. Riled up from the backlash with the podcast, the stress of leaving the house in public after all the bashing from the press, and then having to be in the same room as the very people that spend their whole careers criticising him, it’s all compiled to Matty pacing around your house for days on end. But Yungblud’s newest show was it for him. He won’t sit down, he won’t talk about anything else. And it was starting to drive you mental.

“Who the fuck does he think he fuckin’ is? It’s not enough he fucks my old misses and steals my entire persona and aesthetic, covers my fuckin’ song and then smears me on the fuckin’ internet for nowt, now he’s gone and stolen my fuckin’ stage show?”

You breathe deep. Let it go. Let him get it off his chest.

“Yeah, babe. He’s so annoying.” You placate him monotonously, not taking your eyes off your phone. Scrolling meaninglessly through your Instagram feed.

“What a fuckin’ loser he is.” He huffs and leaves the room.

You relish the moment of silence however fleeting it is before he’s back in the room holding his stash box, and rolling another giant spliff in his hands as he sits right beside you on the couch when he starts again.

“I just don’t believe it, babe, honestly who the fuck does he think he is?”

You watch as he licks the edge of the rollie paper to enclose it and twists the top in his nimble fingers, your phone now discarded on the coffee table forgotten. Watching almost in slow motion as he drags his tongue across the paper. The action alone causing a light flush to heat the back of your neck, picturing the last time that tongue was pressed against your very core.

He takes you out of your reverie by lighting the spliff and handing it to you, an unspoken habit of his that you get first drag. Matty envelops himself around you on the couch, taking up your personal space and getting as close as possible. Usually an action that you enjoy, but he’s so irritating, so grating, at the moment that your skin crawls at the closeness. You breathe deep, toking the weed into your lungs, inhaling most of it and hand him back the spliff; which he takes deep into his own lungs so close to your ear you hear the draw he makes. Spurred on by his perception of your silence to mean you’re listening intently to everything he has to say, every thought racing around his head, he continues ranting. But you’re not paying attention. Instead, the growing irritation of him being so caught up on Yungblud, Halsey, and the press, whatever else the fuck he’s ranting about that you’re not following along with because he. Just. Won’t. Stop.

Pushing your anger down more, you snatch the spliff out of his hands and claim the rest as your own while he gets his phone out inspired by both his high and his anger and opens his Instagram. You watch off to the side while he goes on a rant on his Instagram stories, impersonating Dom’s accent. You watch his exaggerated expressions, his lips moving in a way they don’t usually, and the horrendous but accurate impression of Yungblud’s ridiculous accent. While otherwise entertaining, the pettiness and ridiculousness is suddenly almost rather ugly to you. Annoying in the very least. It’s a side of him you’ve seen before many a time, sardonicism being a language and humour you both share, but it has never put you off quite like this.

The more he speaks the more you want to scream at him.

You draw yourself from his side and stand up from the couch, deciding a cup of tea is all you need. Spliff still in hand, you reach into your cupboard and pull out your favourite tea mug, the kind almost the size of a soup bowl that was perfect for rainy days and shitty moods, and turn the kettle on. Between the final drags of the spliff, you butt the smouldering empty roach out in the filling ashtray on the counter and pull out a bag of lavender destressing tea from the pantry and place it in your mug. You can hear him still ranting in the loungeroom, saying something about “the underrated youth, fucking, generation” and even in the muffled distance it adds to the annoyance.

You take a deep breath and turn and face the kettle now hissing at boiling point from its dock. The throbbing in your skull grows louder as you focus on pouring the boiling water into your mug when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen behind you, feet dragging on the floor like a petulant child. Another deep breath and you take your first scalding hot sip, too annoyed to wait the minute for it to cool down as you usually do. If the weed isn’t calming you down, this tea is your last hope. He just stands there, up against the kitchen sink looking at you, clearly expecting you to initiate conversation so when it doesn’t come he speaks again because he can never let the silence linger. Can never let there be a moment of silence in his own mind. You’re never allowed a single moment of fucking peace.

“Have you seen it, babe? Watch this git-“ you cut him off, slamming the full mug on the bench and scalding your hand, but you’re too livid to notice and turn around to face him seething and ignoring the searing pain of your now-burning flesh.

“Do you ever shut the FUCK up? You’re so fucking obnoxious, Matthew!” Face flushed and eyes wide, your breathing deepens until your chest is heaving with the rage you’re feeling, the audible breaths filling the room. Unable to hold your ire back from the unwitting man in front of you.

He’s never seen you this angry before and for a moment he shrinks into himself, made several sizes smaller from the accusation and his own face flushing, before he steps up to you, toe-to-toe, face closer and eyes ablaze in mutual anger.

Finally silence. You’re practically nose-to-nose staring each other down intensely, looking for something in each other's eyes and finding only fire.

Until he snatches you by the neck pulling your face forcefully into his own. You kiss each other with such burning passion you become a mess of tangling limbs, clutching at his hair and pulling harshly, trying to get closer to him. He pushes you up against the counter, never removing his mouth from yours, hips grinding forcefully into yours allowing you to feel just how your intensity has him riled up as well. A growing heat between you as you gasp for the air he allows you to steal between tongues lashing. He wants to taste your anger, steal the breath from your lungs, feel you wreathing beneath him. You move together, two comets ablaze crashing into each other. His hands roam your body under your rising shirt, never landing in the same place while still grinding his body into yours impossibly close. He kisses down your neck open mouth eliciting a sinful groan to slip from your lips from the combination of his mouth, his hands, his body. Him.

You feel your control of the moment slipping further away. The control you need to satiate your anger truly. So you take it back bringing his mouth back to yours and push against him off the counter and steer your entwined bodies to the lounge. He stops you in the doorway to the loungeroom and pushes you up against the cool cement wall and takes back the control he briefly relinquished. Continuing his vicious attack to your neck, your collarbone, below your ear. Unrelenting lips, teeth, tongue, claiming your skin and setting you on fire further. Moan's slip from both of your mouths, his shuddering breaths against your skin, hot and wet.

You break your shared silence, between struggling for air and giving over to the sexual deviant he never fails to bring out of you. Tired of always letting him guide the moments you share, you flip your positions so he’s against the wall and clutch his jaw, bringing him to look you directly in the eyes again and relinquish his claim from your body, your other hand pushing him further into the wall. He doesn’t fight the position from the shock of the unexpected change of momentum. He’s never seen this side of you before. Dominant. Domineering. Taking possession of him.

“So, you can shut up.” You sneer, red and swollen lips curling in minor disgust. He groans at your tone and the position of helplessness he’s in, entirely enraptured by your fierceness. A shame kink he’s never expected to get off on emerging in the back of his mind. He wants to give in to you but his stubbornness tries to win him over again and he grabs your wrist holding your hand in place.

“You’ll have to make me.” He grunts back.

And that’s all it takes for you to pull him back into you and stumble the rest of the way to the couch, lips attached with fervour and fire. You draw away briefly, “Shirt and pants off. Now.” You demand. He complies, now free of all but his boxers he stands in front of you, reaching for you again but you step away and push him down to the couch with just enough force he doesn’t fight. You stand above him as he lies on the couch, taken aback for a second again, his own chest heaving, breath heavy and eyes hooded from lust before he drags you on top of him. Hands clutching your own shirt and tearing it off your body, buttons flying. You give him this, but only this, wanting to rid your hot flesh of the material clinging to your skin. It’s not what you want touching you. Not what you need touching you right now.

Your pants and now decimated shirt join his clothes on the floor. You join mouths again, lips and teeth resume clashing in a heated awkwardness you both ignore in your shared desperation. Hands roaming each other more, grinding like sexually repressed teenagers, edging but never quite relenting to ecstasy when his hands roam to your hips and clutch you against him, guiding your movements and force. Each clothed stroke brings a pant from his mouth you draw into your own mouth. He kisses down your neck again, his favourite spot. You take your newfound freedom to give him your next demand.

“If you really want to use that mouth as much as you insist, at least put it to good use.”

You take your body off his, him groaning from the movement and sudden disappearance of pressure where he wanted it most, and you lay back against the couch cushions expectant and waiting. It doesn’t take him long to clue onto what you’re asking and in a lithe move he shifts position and leans over your body, attaching his lips to your chest, your stomach, drifting lower and lower while drawing his hands up your legs enticingly. Inching closer and closer, drawing goosebumps over your skin. The feeling he brings you, even in your bad mood, is elating and you feel yourself slowly give over to his hands, his lips, and his gentle and worshipping touch. The exact opposite of what you want right now.

Between sighs and gentle brushes of his hair, your newfound dominant side kicks in again and you’re pulling the hair at the nape of his neck again. “Touch me properly, Healy.”

His breath hitches where he’s working on worshipping your stomach, every inch of your torso kissed and nuzzled by his face, taking in the scent of your skin when he finally runs his palm over your core. Feeling the sticky wetness pooling in your underwear already. Something primal snaps within him as he tears the remaining clothing from your body and attaches his lips to where you need him most. All lips, and tongue, and nose, and gentle fingers working themselves to satisfy you, he palms your now free breasts with his other hand. He eats you out like a man starved, barely coming up for air. Eventually adding a long and callused finger to your slick cunt, coaxing pants out of you and a slowly arching back.

You stroke his curls as he works, cajoling him. “I love it when you’re quiet. Such a. Good. Man when you’re not talking shit.” Your panting turns to moans as he circles your clit with his tongue, taking it in turns to suck, to lick, to bite. Equal parts humiliation and encouragement spur him on as he adds another finger to your soaking core, gentle spasms begin to surface from your well-attended clit. Your stomach tenses as his tongue and fingers work in unison to build you to a crescendo. The hand tending faithfully to your chest slowly moves down your torso back to its place at your hip, securing you in place firmly. Spurred on by the growing sensation in your belly, you clasp your legs around his head and begin moving your hips in response, riding his face from below. Your right leg hooked around his strong back, muscles rippling under your calf from the tensing of his movements, heel digging in, toes curling. Encouraging him further. He grows in pace and determination.

He will bring you to the edge. He will throw you off that cliff of ecstasy and then plunder your bones for his own sweet release. He adds a third finger, tormenting your g spot he drags from your body every shuttering ounce of orgasm that’s ever been drawn from you by anyone ever before. Earth-shattering raptures of bliss take over your body and mind, releasing from your consciousness the anger you felt for the very man that brought you to your current state. He laps your divine juices in his mouth, not wasting a drop of his reward for good behaviour. He kisses his way back up your overstimulated body still responding from his work, pulsing, undulating, and so very o-drunk, he takes advantage of your blissed-out state to reassert his own control. He kisses you deeply and you taste yourself on his lips. You thank him wordlessly, forgiving him momentarily.

“Am I forgiven, baby? Did I do well?” He asks into your mouth, grinding into your oversensitive core to remind you that work is yet to be done to bring him his own deserved release. You nod, mewling in response. You bring a hand to his cheek and stroke it as he kisses your neck again. “So good to me, Matty. So attentive.” He groans again, your words stroking his need to be appreciated, to be validated.

With your senses slowly coming back to you through shared kisses and soft touches, you trace your own way down his body and free his rock-solid cock from its cotton prison. The intensity of your tryst has bought him close to the edge multiple times without you having to touch him where he needs you to most, the desire to satisfy and appease you first is enough motivation to both fulfil and distract him from his own burning urges. Your feather-light touch to his engorged penis sends a whole body shudder through him in his position above you. If you continued to touch him so sinfully he’d come undone in your hand.

Gasping he takes your hand in his shaking grip, “Babe, if you keep touching me while looking like that I’ll cum right here. I need to be IN you.” And who are you to deny a man on the edge his only wish? You take a moment to lightly stroke his penis against your still-soaking entrance and make eye contact with him hooded eyes to hooded eyes, both of you with blown-out pupils from shared euphoria.

You both sigh as he enters you, taking a moment once he’s bottomed out, the base of his shaft against your labia. Hip to hip. With one hand, he grasps your throat tenderly, your hand holding his wrist to encourage his movement. Eyes still locked, nose to nose, he starts moving his hips encouraging your own slow movements with his other hand back in place on your hips. Breathing through the other's mouths, lips barely touching in anticipation, sharing moans and mewls and groans, he picks up pace forming a steady rhythm. The pressure and force building with hips bumping off the others, pants and moans filling the air, each other’s sweat coating your bodies. Neither of you can tell where he begins and you end. Joined as one, you wrap your legs around his body to keep him close, your free hand drawing blood down his back trying to grasp for something, anything. The rapture he’s causing your body is intense again, places he’s never reached before in his many explorations of your body have been tormented and punished. He elicits a scream from your chest, his name falling from your lips like a curse, like a song. Toes curling again, you pant, you cry out. “Yes, Matty. Yes! YES! UGH!”

And that’s enough for him to let go with a grunt and pant. Sapping him of all energy, you feel his warm sperm fill you up as he collapses across your body, still inside you, pulsing. He draws his arms around your body in a tender embrace and leaves a soft kiss on your still-heaving chest. You both lay like that for a moment, just breathing. You playing softly with his hair and him drawing circles on your cooling skin.

He finds the strength to push himself up from you and remove himself from your vagina and then laying back in your arms and kissing his way back up to your lips.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” He asks in disbelief. Shock crosses his face when he comes to. And you both start laughing as the intensity of what just passed you both sets in.

“Sometimes you just need to be kept quiet.” You say laughing and he pinches your nipple in response laughing with you.

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x reader #the 1975 imagines #sub matty #he's so fucking annoying sometimes #i love it when he shuts the fuck up #matty healy one shot #matty x reader #Instagram

[everythingisconstant]

your month = your song <Ghost ver.>

songs describing your relationship with Simon "Ghost" Riley based on your month of birth! (+ some extra lyrics)

Price's version

already working on rest tf141 's versions & obviously Konig's, but if you'd like to see someone specific just let me know in the comments section!!!

Songs he would play on a night car ride, thinking about you... Maybe even literally screaming these lyrics, music plays so loud that even Simon can't hear himself

January:

"Love is a losing game" by Amy Winehouse

"Love is a losing game, one I wished I never played

Oh, what a mess we made

And now, the final frame, love is a losing game"

February:

"How you remind me" by Nickelback

"I said, "I love you, " and I swear, I still do

And it must have been so bad

'Cause living with me must have damn near killed you"

March:

"Drag me down" by One Direction

"If I didn't have you, there would be nothing left

The shell of a man that could never be his best"

April:

"I was made for lovin' you" by KISS

"In the darkness, there's so much I want to do

And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet

'Cause girl, I was made for you, and girl, you were made for me"

May:

"Love the way you lie" by Eminem & Rihanna

"I apologize, even though I know it's lies

I'm tired of the games, I just want her back, I know I'm a liar

If she ever tries to fucking leave again, I'm a tie her to the bed and set this house on fire"

June:

"Jolene" by Dolly Parton

"He talks about you in his sleep

And there's nothing I can do to keep

From crying when he calls your name, Jolene"

July:

"Someone you loved" by Lewis Capaldi

"I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to turn to

This all or nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you

(...)

It's easy to say but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape"

August:

"Heartless" by Kanye West

"You run and tell your friends that you're leaving me

They say that they don't see what you see in me

You wait a couple months then you gon' see, you'll never find nobody better than me"

September:

"Him & I" by G-Easy & Halsey

"He's out his head, I'm out my mind

We got that love, the crazy kind

I am his, and he is mine

In the end, it's him and I"

October:

"Animals" by Maroon 5

"You can start over, you can run free

You can find other fish in the sea

You can pretend it's meant to be, but you can't stay away from me"

November:

"I love it loud" by KISS

"Stand up, you don't have to be afraid

Get down, love is like a hurricane

Street boy, though I never could be tamed"

December:

"Granade" by Bruno Mars

"I would go through all this pain

Take a bullet straight through my brain

Yes, I would die for ya, baby

But you won't do the same"

#cod men #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 23

Loki managed to convince Claire to stay home, where it was nice and safe, while he went to see Severus.

He didn’t know what Severus needed him for, but Loki knew it wasn’t good news. Severus very rarely called, in-fact, he’d only called him once before in the nine years he’d known him and that was for an emergency, too.

Loki dreaded to think what he was away to find as he flew to the park to meet with him.

When he got there, he found him just down from the bridge, his heart sank instantly as he turned into his vampire form and landed next to Severus. There was a body, half in the river, it was one of their vampire students.

Loki put his hand over his mouth, eyes wide at the scene.

‘It’s Halsey. She had one year left… very smart, kind girl.’ Severus said solemnly.

‘She wasn’t even interested in hunting humans, she took from the blood bank. Had no interest when Chris approached her about the traditional hunt, she came to me asking for help to keep her primal urges at bay.’ Loki said with a lump in his throat.

‘The hunters are just going for any and all vampires, they don’t care about those of us that are trying to co-exist peacefully with the humans, that aren’t causing any harm.’ Severus said. ‘It’s getting worse every year.’

Loki sighed and ran a hand down his face.

‘Well, this doesn’t look good.’ Came a voice from behind Loki and Severus.

Loki turned around with his jaw clenched, Severus didn’t bother turning, he just rolled his eyes.

‘Do you have to be here?’ Loki snarled.

Chris frowned as he walked closer and saw who the body belonged to. ‘Halsey. That’s a shame, she was a bright student.’ He said, Loki thought he even heard a hint of remorse in his voice… surely not?

‘The hunters are on a rampage.’ Loki said, worriedly.

‘This will be that hunter, Toshi. She’s up to no good, killing all the vampires.’ Chris hissed.

‘No.’ Severus said abruptly.

Chris and Loki looked at him.

‘She’s too skilled to do a sloppy job like this. Look at the body, there’s more than one gun shot. Plus, Toshi doesn’t use guns.’ Severus said firmly.

Chris frowned. ‘How do you know what she doesn’t use?’ He folded his arms over his chest.

‘I've had many run ins with her.’ Severus drawled. ‘This is not her work.’

Chris looked annoyed, but didn’t say anything more about it.

‘I’ll organise an assembly tomorrow for the vampires, we need to alert them all to the high risk we are in right now due to the hunters.’ Loki said decisively.

‘What good will that do? Apart from putting the fear of God into them.’ Chris argued.

‘It will let them know to be more aware, to stick in groups and not go out alone at night.’ Loki glared at him.

‘If a hunter wants to shoot a vampire down, no amount of vampires sticking together will stop that. Especially when they use bullets.’ Chris said.

‘Perhaps not, but if the students know about the risk, then they might opt to stay inside when it's dark.’ Loki snarled at him.

‘Loki’s right. We need to keep the students in the loop of what’s going on. Halsey has been here for a few hours, so it obviously happened during the night. If she’d known about the possible danger, she might not have been out during the night in the first place.’ Severus chimed in with.

‘Are you both forgetting that I’m the one in charge, I’m the headmaster.’ Chris growled. ‘I’ll decide when and if we have an assembly.’

Loki and Severus shared an irritated look with one another, but they knew they couldn’t do anything about it. He was right, he was the headmaster, after all.

‘Well, you don’t need to be hanging around here. Severus and I have this sorted.’ Loki said through gritted teeth.

‘I have already called the authorities, just awaiting their arrival.’ Severus said calmly.

Chris glared at the two of them, then smirked and began walking backwards. ‘Fair enough. I’m just glad that this isn’t your human pet, brother. Would be a shame to lose her so soon.’

Loki had to really bite his tongue, Severus was ready to intervene if Loki did try and attack Chris, but Loki managed to contain himself. He turned his back on Chris, and was relieved when he heard the fluttering of wings disappear.

‘I don’t know why he was here in the first place.’ Loki snarled.

‘You know he likes to stick his nose in where it’s not wanted, plus any chance to get under your skin.’ Severus drawled.

Loki just huffed in response.

Not long after Chris left, the authorities turned up to deal with Halsey’s body, to also take a statement from Severus, since he was the one that found her. They were going to get in touch with her family, too.

Loki and Severus stepped back, to let them deal with the body.

‘How is it going with Claire?’ Severus asked Loki as they watched the poor girl’s body being taken away.

‘Really well. She’s taken to the whole vampire thing like a duck to water.’ Loki smiled. ‘I am able to be myself now, though I am worried about the future. There is some truth in what Chris has been saying. She’s a human, with a much shorter life span than myself. I don’t know how I’ll cope in the future, when the inevitable happens.’

‘Have you spoken to her about it?’ Severus asked.

‘No. Not yet.’

‘So, speak to her about it. There is no point worrying about something that might be easily solved.’ Severus shrugged.

‘How might it be easily solved?’ Loki asked.

‘She might want to be turned when the time is right. That would solve all issues.’ Severus said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘I will not turn her.’ Loki said quickly.

‘Even if that’s her wishes? I know you wouldn’t do it unwillingly, but what if she wants to become a vampire and to live with you for eternity?’

‘Is that what you and your partner are doing?’ Loki asked.

‘We have a plan worked out.’ Severus smirked a little.

Loki sighed and paced back and fore. ‘I just fear she will be in more danger as a vampire… I mean, look at what we are dealing with as it is.’ Loki said sadly as he looked at the poor student.

‘This is just a small blip, we will get to the bottom of it. I’m sure by the time Claire would be ready to be changed, things will be a lot calmer then.’

‘I don’t even know if she would want that.’ Loki said quietly.

Severus shrugged. ‘You won’t know till you discuss it with her. How has she taken to the fact she’s your soulmate?’

Loki looked sheepish at that, he scratched the back of his head. ‘Uhh… I haven’t told her that yet.’

‘Why not?’ Severus frowned.

‘I don’t want her to think she has to be with me, if she doesn’t want to. I will tell her, in time. I just don’t want her to feel pressured or anything.’

‘Makes sense… I suppose.’ Severus hummed.

‘What do we do now, if Chris isn’t going to allow us to have an assembly for the vampire students tomorrow?’ Loki asked as he and Severus began walking out of the park, since there was no reason for them to hang around there for any longer.

‘We will need to try and convince him. Or speak to the students singly when we can.’ Severus suggested. ‘Mainly, I think we need to be more alert. Maybe we should set up patrols, to keep an eye on the city. Try to make sure the younger vampires are safe.’

Loki nodded. ‘That sounds like a good idea. You’ve put a lot of thought into this already?’

‘It’s best to be tactical and prepared.’

As they reached the edge of the park, Loki turned to Severus before they headed their separate ways. ‘Do you and your partner want to go for dinner sometime with Claire and I? It would be nice to finally meet this partner of yours.’

Severus raised an eyebrow as he looked at him, pausing a moment.

‘No.’ He responded with, then walked off.

Loki rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

-

When Loki returned to Claire, she knew instantly there was something really wrong. He told her about Halsey, while trying not to be too upset. Though Claire could tell it was eating him up that they’d lost another student, so she comforted him as best as she could.

The following day in school, Loki was surprised to hear Chris announce an assembly for certain students.

‘He must’ve had a change of heart.’ Claire said to Loki as they made their way to the hall, for said assembly.

‘I guess he does have a braincell after all.’ Loki grumbled.

Chris explained to the students what had happened to Halsey. There was of course an outburst from the students, a mix of panic and grief.

‘Calm down, everyone. I know you’re all scared and worried, rightfully so. Now, Mr Laufeyson is going to speak, he has some ideas and thoughts on ways to keep you safe.’ Chris looked over at Loki with a smug smirk, then left the hall.

Loki clenched his jaw, he had sprung this on him, but Loki did want to talk to everyone. To put them at ease, better than Chris would do.

Loki glanced over at Severus, who nodded.

‘I know this is a scary time, but we are going to do our best to keep you all as safe as we possibly can. Staying in at night, when it starts to get dark is the safest option. If you need to be out, go in groups. Be aware of your surroundings, avoid the park and woods, stay on the busy streets. We are going to try and set up a patrol between us, to keep an eye on the city. If anyone sees anything abnormal or concerning, contact us straight away.’

One student raised their hand. ‘Sir… I saw a cloaked figure on the roof of the school this morning when I came in.’

‘I saw it too.’ Another student called out.

Loki frowned and was about to go look, but Severus jumped up. ‘No need to be concerned of that. I’ve taken it upon myself to get some security over-looking us. They are on our side.’

A few more students had questions or worries, Loki did his best to answer and assure them all before ending the assembly.

‘Who have you got on watch?’ Loki asked Severus after the students left the hall.

‘No one you need to be concerned over. Just know, they will help to keep us safe.’

‘Is this the same cloaked figure that saved Kirsten?’ Claire asked.

Severus nodded, then spun around and marched out of the hall to go start his class.

Loki and Claire looked at each other and shook their heads.

‘Come on, let’s go get started.’ Loki sighed.

‘I’ll get these chairs put away, I’ll catch up with you.’ Claire said as she motioned to all the chairs left out.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, go get started, the students will be waiting.’ Claire assured him.

Loki kissed the top of her head, then headed back to his class.

Claire sighed as she began tidying the hall.

‘Worrying times, isn’t it?’

Claire felt a little scared for a moment upon hearing Chris’ voice. Though she remembered what Loki had told her, about how Chris did respect humans that were mated with a vampire. So she calmed her breathing down, not wanting to give Chris the satisfaction of being scared of him.

‘It is.’ Claire responded, but she didn’t look at him, she just continued stacking the chairs as she heard his footsteps coming towards her.

‘Must be nice, being a human. Not having to worry about hunters.’ Chris said as he came into her view and leaned against the back of a chair.

‘Well, yes. Though I do have vampires to worry about.’ Claire said as she glanced up at him briefly.

Chris smirked. ‘Well, there is that… Though you know, having to avoid hunters is only a small fault in being a vampire. If you were to be turned, you wouldn’t have to worry about other vampires ever again.’

He stood up straight and walked closer to her. She stepped backwards one step, but he was able to invade her space quickly with his long legs. He went behind her and leaned down to her ear.

‘All it would take… is one little bite.’ He growled, his breath warm against her neck.

Claire pulled away from him and turned to face him fully, she grabbed a chair to put between them. ‘The only one biting me is Loki.’ She said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her composure.

Chris chuckled wickedly. ‘You keep telling yourself that.’ He winked at her, then, still with a smirk on his face, he left her to it.

Claire was a little shaken, but she tried not to let him get to her. He would say anything to wind people up and get under their skin. So, she quickly finished tidying up, then went to join Loki in the classroom. She knew that he could tell she was a little edgy, by the quizzical look he gave her.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry. Just your brother trying to ruffle my feathers.’ She whispered to him when she got the chance.

Loki growled a little angrily, but quickly composed himself again. He was glad that Claire didn’t seem too scared this time, he’d just smelt a little bit of unease from her. Though he still felt bad that she had to deal with his shit.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #fluffy loki #loki fic #vampire Loki #chris motionless #severus snape #the redbridge hunts

[bellafemme]

Thank you to the several followers of mine who privately showed me what whenmagicfilledtheair said about me on their blog. She is a absolute liar. It was jackandmeglittlecreamsoda who sent me the question about Jack playing in Olivia Rodrigo's new song. Not an anonymous person. I was answering the question sent to me. But to the point, all the times I have contacted whenmagicfilledtheair I have never needed to go anonymous or private. I contacted her using my username just as you see me here. I spoke to her in her inbox privately with my username as you see here. This is the only account username I have on Tumblr. I don't have any other account and I don't leave messages in other blogs as anonymous. What for? That is stupid. I don't play games. I don't need to talk to myself or create usernames to talk to myself to create content. That's fucking crazy. That is what crazy people like whenmagicfilledtheair do. It sucks because I had a good back and fourth communication with this person, even sending them old links from glittergloombeauty's page about Jack and Olivia. We had a nice Tumblr friendship. I am shocked and hurt by their accusation. I was nothing but kind to them. I stopped posting on her page because I didn't have time to run my own blog and comment on every single solitary Olivia Jean post they made. There were times they would create 90 posts per week just on Olivia Jean. I work. I have a real life. I don't have time to comment on every Olivia Jean post they made or all the shit post they created about TMR or Jack. I also put my attention on other artists like Halsey, Lana, Ethel or other female artists that bring me joy. Olivia Jean doesn't bring me joy and she never has. It was funny to read about her sometimes. In a healthy way. But imagine commenting on a person you don't like every five minutes like whenmagicfilledtheair. What a horrible miserable life they must lead. I didn't block whenmagicfilledtheair before but I have now. lademoiselleofsadness was right about this person but I gave them the benefit of the doubt. I didn't care they were who they were on instagram. Maybe I should have. I will follow advice and block everyone who's commented on whenmagicfilledtheair's page. Now they all look sus to me. Those accounts were created in June or July of this year and have no activity. The activity that do exists was created starting in June. They look like burner accounts. Maybe all this time I was talking to the same person thinking it was different people. That's sick but not surprising. If I end up blocking a person who is real and not whenmagicfilledtheair then that sucks. Good luck whenmagicfilledtheair. You are fucked up crazy and going to need it. I can imagine how lonely and pathetic your life is attacking the one person who showed you nothing but kindness. Go ahead and carry on with your 90 Olivia Jean posts a week. I know you will be reading and screen shoting this post using another one of your fake burner accounts. Please do me a favor and go fuck yourself straight back to hell where you belong.

#olivia jean #jack white #the white stripes

[gatheredfates]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

Aww, I love positivity asks! I can't say mine are in any way profound, but:

My loved ones. Cheesy, I know. Shout-out to my partner who does have a Tumblr account but refuses to be perceived because I know he'll read this and appreciate the fact I didn't tag him. I've been asked before how on earth I've been in a relationship with one person for over half my life and that's simple: I fell in love with my best friend. 💖 Also huge shoutout to @riftdancing who will be perceived because she's the platonic love of my life and, without her, I would not be who I am today. These two have seen me at my literal worst and stuck by me — I love them to bits! There's also my FC members/close friends @lightwrought / @gaygentofchaos / @whirlwyrm / @snakemoltsiren / @swingbeard / @dragons-ire / other people I have missed and/or wouldn't like to be tagged but know you are included because I love you. IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW. Also everyone in Seafloor!

Music. I've always loved music, but I really only got into music and listening to different things later in life! Sleep Token fundamentally altered my brain chemistry and I will thrust them on anyone who will listen (start with Sundowning through to Take Me Back to Eden if you want the whole ~experience~ but Jaws is also a good separate introduction). I've also come to love Crywolf, Ashnikko, Bad Omens, as well as old faithfuls like Red, Evanescence, Halsey, etc.

My cat. She's not really my cat, but she adopted me. Ratticus le Catticuses the third of her name; brat cat, rat cat; little goblin; my little baby girl, love of my life. (Her name is Lucy).

Graphics design/creativity. I make it no secret my favourite part of my irl work is when I can make a brochure/pamphlet/poster. I don't profess to be an absolute master in it, and I'm entirely self-taught, but there is something about making something better. It's the same with GPOSING and the like. I don't do it often, but my edits are there. There are people in the community that use the little dividers I put together in Canva. It makes me happy!

My current mental health/personal journey. I'm in a really good spot mentally. My diagnosis has changed my life, and I was already on a good trajectory with my personal mantra/outlook on life prior to it. A few years go I was extremely depressed/anxious, I had a lot of trauma/paranoia around my spaces, and acted in ways I'm not proud of. I've reached out and reconciled a lot of it, and it's allowed me to engage with this community and my personal projects in a manner that's healthy and engaging for me. I was in a spot of ~drama~ recently (which I won't get into — that's another personal choice I made to keep things between relevant parties) and, rather than freaking out and thinking everyone hated me... I just dealt with it. I took all sides, formulated my opinions and blocked the people I didn't want to deal with. I was SO proud/happy with myself — I still am! It's not world-ending like it used to feel and that's so freeing for me as someone who used to be a chronic people-pleaser/conflict averse. I still want to try to be the latter, but I really believe the manta of 'be kind, take no shit'. It's done wonders for my happiness.

This got really long, I appreciate anyone who got to the bottom! I'll send these out to ten people from my permanent interaction call because I think that's nice. Thank you @disciple-of-frost for sending this in!! ✨

#｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea speaks #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea answers things

[bloodgulchblog]

halo lost track of ai generations.

(i, on the other hand, have lost all control of my life.)

all recent smart ais in lore are identified as 5th generation as recently and authoritatively as the 2022 encyclopedia. black box is 4th generation. cortana has been identified as 3rd generation since halsey's diary at the very least, and even if it's not set in stone earlier (digging through digital copies of fall of reach and first strike is dicey if the copy doesn't identify which edition it is) it's supported by ackerson's ai araqiel and blood line/saint's testimony character iona both being specifically identified as 3rd generation.

however, ghosts of onyx also established a 5th generation ai, deep winter, that had been in service in the 2530s (and this longevity is canon as of infinite-era lore, see link.)

(2009 encyclopedia also names deep winter's predecessor eternal spring as a 5th generation ai, but 2009 encyclopedia is noted to be suspect on some details/assumptions and to have borrowed fan speculation from halopedia.)

this would mean the "top of the line" of smart ai tech is 20+ years old, which is hilarious but also strikes me as unlikely.

so. here's what i think happened.

i think 5th generation being called out in ghosts of onyx is legitimately a fluke that was forgotten about, or slated to be corrected in a later printing that never happened due to some combination of the shuffle of establishing 343i/halo cutting nylund off/maybe someone sitting down and looking at the inconsistencies between ghosts of onyx and halo reach and deciding maybe they should just gently nudge it all under the rug and pretend it's not there.

then, the kilo five author (notoriously not somebody who sticks to lore of established franchises and who was probably just going off a then-recently-established list of details when 343 commissioned her) established black box as 4th gen following the logic that this would make him the next better step after cortana, who was firmly established as 3rd gen at that point.

now, because this is how making numbers bigger works, everybody's 5th gen.

...and i think it's possible someone by now has noticed this, because if you look back at concurrent material (like waypoint's old character profiles) for halo 5, cortana's generation is just quietly not mentioned. (this is also true of 2022 encyclopedia.)

i think it's just a straight up oversight that ended up unsolvable because it got ingrained in some firmly-established materials and now, because just-not-mentioned isn't enough to discredit an old detail to a fandom/especially to a wiki, it's just kind of like this.

but, as an in-universe idea, it's very funny to me because you can also go:

oh, catherine halsey was so particular about her smart ai design that she built her magnum opus on top of 20+ year old architecture because she didn't like two whole generations of volitional ai development and did a shit ton of custom work.

there's something fun about that as a thought, to me.

#halo lore #cortana #smart ais #catherine halsey #this would also make black box one of the last guys pushing the most out of his architecture maybe #which is also funny to me #the best i can do for araqiel and iona? #made cheaper i guess #just because a new tech exists doesn't mean old tech all goes to the landfill instantly

[helix-studios117]

Halo Reloaded: Armor Up

The Spartan-II training facility's halls were usually the kind of place where silence went to die, punctuated by the constant march of boots and the stern commands of instructors. But today, they echoed with a different sort of rhythm: the slightly off-kilter stride of John-117.

Decked out in the Spartan equivalent of "casual Friday" attire – which, to be honest, still looked like something you could parachute behind enemy lines in – John was a study in youthful determination, albeit with a side of lingering awkwardness unique to 14-year-olds. The Spartan augmentation process had been a rollercoaster that none of them were eager to ride again.

Most of his fellow super-soldiers-to-be treated the ordeal like a mildly inconvenient flu, bouncing back in four days with little more to show for it than a new ability to bench-press a warthog. John, however, had been on the receiving end of the cosmos’s sense of humor, enduring a grueling two weeks that left him wondering if someone had swapped his augmentations for a particularly nasty case of space mono.

Stepping into the conference room felt like walking into a surprise party where the guest of honor is a military secret. The usual sterile, buttoned-up atmosphere of the room had been swapped out for something that could only be described as "expectant tension with a side of Spartan." His fellow Spartans, a collection of 16-year-olds who made the average Olympic athlete look underdeveloped, were all buzzing with a mixture of excitement and the kind of jittery energy usually reserved for kids on a sugar high.

Dr. Halsey stood at the front, her demeanor that of a professor about to unveil a breakthrough that would either win her a Nobel or get her a stern talking-to from the ethics committee. "Gather round, Spartans," she said, her voice a blend of command and conspiratorial glee. "What you're about to see is the result of years of blood, sweat, and an ungodly amount of government funding."

The Spartans shuffled closer, their usual poise momentarily replaced by the universal human reaction to being told they were about to get a present: unabashed eagerness.

John, finding himself amidst a sea of towering figures, couldn't help but let a wry smile play across his lips. The situation was absurd - a group of teenage super soldiers, giddy as school kids, all because of what? A new toy?

As Halsey pulled the cover off the object with a flourish, she might as well have been a magician revealing her final trick. "Behold," she announced, stepping aside to reveal not a rabbit, but the next generation of Spartan armor. "Your second skin."

The room erupted into an odd mixture of awe-struck silence and muttered commentary that sounded like someone had crossed a sports commentary box with a tech expo. "Would ya look at that," one of the Spartans whispered, voice tinged with reverence and a hint of disbelief, "It's beautiful."

"Bet it could make me run faster," Kelly chimed in, her comment floating over the crowd like a challenge.

John stood there, taking it all in – the armor, the reactions of his peers, the palpable excitement in the air – and couldn't help but think about the road ahead. The grueling training, the augmentations that felt more like an exercise in masochism than enhancement, and now this... it was all leading to something bigger. Something dangerous. But as he looked around at his fellow Spartans, their faces alight with anticipation and a touch of youthful naivety, he felt a surge of camaraderie.

"Yeah," he finally spoke, his voice cutting through the chatter with the ease of someone used to being heard, "But can it do laundry?"

The laughter that followed was a rare sound in the Spartan-II training facility, a moment of genuine human connection amid the relentless preparation for war. In that laughter was an acknowledgment of the absurdity of their situation – teenagers, turned into super soldiers, preparing to don armor that made science fiction look quaint.

The atmosphere had shifted from one of eager anticipation to cautious intrigue, thanks in no small part to Dr. Halsey's next revelation. "As part of our development process for the Mjolnir suits," Halsey began, her voice steady, betraying none of the drama that her next words would unfurl, "we conducted an initial test with a volunteer from the Marine Corps."

A collective breath seemed to be held among the Spartans. Volunteer work within the UNSC often ranged from the mundane to the suicidal, and given the context, guesses on where this story was going veered towards the latter.

"The marine was a seasoned veteran," Halsey continued, her gaze sweeping across the room, locking eyes with each of the Spartans as if to underscore the gravity of her recounting.

"Decorated. Experienced. And, most crucially, willing." Murmurs of respect whispered through the ranks. To volunteer for unknown, potentially lethal testing was a mark of courage—or recklessness—that every Spartan understood intimately.

"Upon activating the suit," she pressed on, "the marine's initial response was of exhilaration. The Mjolnir's capabilities far exceeded anything within our current arsenal. However," here, Halsey paused, allowing the word to hang in the air like a guillotine's blade, "the suit also responds to neural impulses at the speed of thought."

A sense of foreboding crept into the room, a shadow that grew with Halsey's every word.

"Regrettably, the human body, unenhanced, cannot withstand such instantaneous, powerful responses. The marine... suffered extensive injuries."

"How extensive are we talking?" a Spartan interjected, the question hanging between curiosity and concern.

"Every bone in his body was broken," Halsey answered, her tone clinical but not without a hint of regret. "He survived. Recovery will be... extensive. And yes, his career in the field is effectively over."

A heavy silence followed her declaration. The implications were clear and chilling: the Mjolnir armor was not just a tool, but a titan that demanded respect, and a certain genetic fortitude, to wield.

"Will he be alright?" another Spartan asked, the question voiced softly, a rare crack in the façade of Spartan stoicism.

Halsey met the question with a nod. "He will recover, physically. He's been recommended for an honorable discharge and will be offered a position away from the front lines. His sacrifice has provided invaluable data."

The room settled into a contemplative quiet, each Spartan wrestling with the story's implications. The line between human and superhuman, it seemed, was drawn not just in ability, but in the very capacity to survive their own strength.

Then, breaking the silence with a resolve that seemed to push back against the room's growing somberness, John-117 spoke up. "He knew the risks?"

"He did," Halsey confirmed, meeting John's gaze with an unreadable look.

"And he volunteered anyway," John mused aloud, not a question but a statement—a reflection of understanding, perhaps, or a glimpse into his own unwavering resolve.

"Yes, John," Halsey replied, her voice carrying a new weight, a recognition of the courage mirrored in her Spartans. "He did."

As whispers of concern and not-so-quiet bets on who’d bite the bullet and go first swirled around, John-117 stepped forward. The runt, the Omega, the kid who was always picked last for dodgeball until people realized he could dodge, throw, and strategize like some kind of mini-Sun Tzu.

His bravery wasn’t just the talk of the town; it was legendary, bordering on the reckless. But then again, who among them wasn’t a few crayons short of a full box for signing up for this gig?

John’s choice of gear was like watching someone decide to bring a knife to a gunfight because they’d figured out a way to make the knife shoot bullets. The Mirage armor core he selected was the equivalent of choosing the sleek sports car in a lineup of armored tanks. It was built for speed and agility, the kind of suit you’d wear if you wanted to dance through bullets rather than walk off getting hit by them. Its plates were thin, flexible, more akin to the elegant armor of a futuristic knight than the hulking exoskeletons of its brethren.

Tossing aside the standard-issue Mirage helmet with a flick of disdain, John opted for the MK-VI—a headpiece that looked like it had been designed for a BMX rider destined to joust in a post-apocalyptic world. With its pronged visor and compact design, it was less about shielding your identity and more about making a statement: Here I am, come and get me.

As the suit’s pigmentation shifted to a forest green at John’s command, it wasn’t just the armor that changed. The mood in the room took a turn from anxious to awe-struck, as if everyone had suddenly remembered who they were and what they were training to become. This wasn’t just about surviving a suit; it was about mastering it, becoming one with it.

Strapping on his bandolier like he was accessorizing for the end of the world, John’s machete sheath and radio clamp weren’t just tools; they were statements. I’m here to fight, and I plan to win. His readiness was palpable, a physical thing that filled the room and reminded everyone exactly why they were there.

Dr. Halsey, ever the ice queen with a heart of, well, maybe not gold, but perhaps a sturdy alloy, regarded John with a look that might have been pride or might have been calculating the odds. "How do you feel?" She asked as the room held its breath.

John, surveying the sea of faces—his teammates, his rivals, his family—cracked a grin that was all cocky assurance and youthful bravado. "...Like I'm ready to take on the whole damn world."

The armory erupted, not in laughter, but in a shared release of tension, a collective acknowledgment that, yes, this was insane, but if John-117 was leading the charge, then maybe, just maybe, they had a fighting chance.

Dr. Halsey, allowing the faintest smirk to grace her lips, simply nodded. "Then let’s see if the world’s ready for you, John." This wasn’t just a test; it was a declaration. John-117 wasn’t about to enter the arena. He was about to redefine it.

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @authortobenamedlater, @empresskadia, @makowrites, @makowrites, @killer-orca-cosplay, @ageless-aislynn.

#halo #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #master chief #john 117 #master chief fanfiction #master chief fanfic #halo headcanon #halo au #halo reloaded #ultimate universe #Ultimate Halo #helix studios117