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#but not necessarily because i just like running my fingers over someone's back
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Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.
He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:
“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”
Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.
Which is saying a lot.
Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.
Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.
The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.
Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding. 
Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.
And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.
The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about  how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.
That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance. 
He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time: 
“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”
“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice. 
Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.
He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“Saying what?”
“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out.  It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.” 
“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”
“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”
Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.
“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him. 
No. “Kinda?”
Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…
Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.
He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.
“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”
Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.
“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”
Well shit.
Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”
“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.
But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.
“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”
Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again. 
They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”
Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.
“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”
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spicyspiders · 9 months
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could i request a bottom male reader whom uses that trending pheromone perfume to seduce miguel, and because his (miguel’s) power comes from him splicing his dna w a spider’s he goes absolutely crazy for it? won’t leave reader alone which leads to smut? love your works and would understand if you’re not feeling this <3
Thank you! I've never heard of that perfume, but I hope this story did it justice.
If anyone asked, you did your best to try and keep your room clean and tidy. You were okay with small piles, but those messes were always quick to overwhelm you so you would try and keep your space clean. 
This could mean that there were times that you had difficulty finding certain things in your room if they were lost in those piles. If it could be difficult for you, you couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for someone unfamiliar with your space. 
That’s why it confused you to come into your room to see Miguel throwing things around, obviously looking for something. 
“Miguel?” You asked and watched as his back stiffened. 
He turned to face you in a flash, frustration evident by not only his stiff posture, but the intense look in his red eyes.  “What’re you doing?”
“What am I doing? I should be asking what you are doing, because it looks like you’re trashing my room!”
Somehow even quicker than he had turned to face you, he had your body pressed up against the door, holding you by the arms in a tight grip. 
“Do you know what you’ve been doing to me?” Miguel asked, a wild look in his eyes. He leaned down and dragged his nose up the column of your neck. 
You knew Miguel wasn’t necessarily a vampire, but it felt like that rumor was always spreading at least every few months. You knew it wasn’t true, it was just a silly rumor after all, but right now, you were beginning to second guess. 
“I thought it was the injections at first, but then when I would take another dosage, I learned that you had locked me in this cycle,” Miguel said, pulling his face from your neck when he was done talking. Up close, you could see that his red eyes were nearly black, his pupils nearly swallowing up all of the color. 
“Cycle? What’re you talking about?” You questioned, trying to loosen your way out of his grip. 
Miguel’s fingers only tightened around your arms, his claws digging into the skin, “your smell,” he growled. “I nearly wore down the soles of my suit trying to track down where it was coming from. 
“It’s the cologne I bought,” you tried again to wrestle out of his grip, but your efforts were in vain, “I can go wash it off-”
Miguel cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. The hot press of his lips catches you off guard, making you gasp, which gives Miguel the perfect opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. 
“I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to fuck you in the shower until that cologne is gone from your skin.”
You nod quickly, feeling a small shiver go through your body at the dark look that falls over Miguel’s face. “The only thing you’re going to smell like is me. Like you’re mine.” Miguel says, his fingers finding the zipper of your suit all too easily. 
Once Miguel has the top half of your suit joining one of the piles on your floor, his hands are running a warm path over the skin. His fingers find your nipples to tug and tease until they’re hard and sensitive. 
You let out a whine when one of his claws gets dangerously close to one of the nubs. Fortunately, Miguel’s fingers leave so they can continue their path down your body. 
When you’re down to your underwear, Miguel still hasn’t shed any of his suit. It’s something that you try to open your mouth and protest about, but you find yourself with his lips on top of yours, halting whatever you were going to say. 
Miguel’s tongue finds yours as it licks into your mouth. It maps over the space, from the roof of your mouth to your back teeth. He breaks the kiss after backing you up until the back of your knees meets the edge of your mattress. 
Flat on your back on your bed, Miguel still isn’t naked, but you’re down to your underwear, your hard cock straining against the fabric. Your mind goes blank when Miguel makes his way between your legs and grinds his hips down, and you can feel that Miguel is just as hard as you are. 
You gasp into his mouth when he presses his lips to yours again, this time you bring a hand to his hair so you can hold him steady and push your tongue past his lips. Just from looking at them, you knew his fangs were sharp, so you take extra care when running your tongue over them. The action makes Miguel whimper, the noise going straight to your cock. 
Your eyes fly open when sharp claws find their way to the last article of clothing you have on and shred the material enough that they can join the pile your suit made. You always found yourself throwing something away from the piles when you would finally clean your room, and this time, the underwear would join whatever else you would throw away. 
With your neck craned over to look at once was the underwear you just had on, Miguel took that time to kiss and nip with his lips and teeth at the sensitive skin of your neck. He made sure to soothe over the skin his teeth went over afterward, no doubt leaving a mark that you both knew would heal quickly. 
When you turned your head back to face Miguel, the sight of his naked body was what greeted you. His suit left both little to the imagination as well as a craving for more. There was no doubt that Miguel was attractive both in and out of his suit. What once covered his broad frame was now all gone, leaving you with the difficult choice of when you wanted to put your hands first. 
Your hand left his hair, leaving it messy as your hands made the short path down until your reached his broad shoulders. The skin underneath your fingers was warm, making a comfortably warm path down his arms. The valley of his abs was one you hoped to find yourself familiar with as you went there next. Starting from the hairs below his belly button, you made your way up his chest. 
Just like he did with you, you tease at his nipples. Whereas he only used his fingers, you had your tongue and teeth to the mix. You nip at one bud before running your tongue over the hardened skin. Once you’ve moved on to the other, Miguel is panting, and when you pull back and open your eyes, you see his have gone half-lidded and dark from the pleasure. 
“Tell me you’ve got lube,” Miguel groans, grinding his hips down so your hard naked cocks can rub together. 
It’s one of the things you knew the exact spot of in your room. You don’t want to move away, but you knew the few seconds of distance would all be worth it. 
Your stomach jumps in anticipation and fear when one of his lubed-up fingers makes its way between your cheeks when you come back to the mattress. Thankfully, his nails are now smooth, perfect to get you ready. 
You don’t know how many kisses are exchanged as he prepares you. They vary in intensity based on what you need. When one of his fingers brushes against your prostate, the kiss that accompanies it is wet and messy. When a second and third join to get you open, Miguel showers your face in soft kisses as you occasionally let out little noises of discomfort from the thickness of his fingers. 
“Please,” you beg over the noise of his three fingers pumping in and out wetly. You aren’t really sure what you’re begging for, but you’re pretty sure it could be an end to the intense pleasure he’s giving you. For Miguel to finally push you over into orgasm with his fingers. Or it could be for his cock, the sight of it you’ve caught glimpses of ever since his suit was gone. 
Just the sight of it was intimidating, but you still let out a punched out noise when Miguel nearly folded your body in half so he could rub the head of his wet cock against your hole. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly, digging your heels into his back to try and spur him on. Your head fell back onto the bed when he finally pushed inside, Miguel’s hips falling forward until he was all the way inside.
You felt impossibly full, the thickness and length of his cock carving out a space deep within your body. 
You raised your head from the bed, feeling sweat drip down your neck. Miguel’s tongue followed the bead of moisture, panting wetly against the heated skin of your neck. He tried to kiss you, but all you could give back was drawn-out moans that he chased with his tongue.  
Opening your eyes after the kiss was done, Miguel watched you with an expression full of lust, his red eyes nearly black. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, sweat that was threatening to cause the grip of your legs to loosen from his hips.
When your legs began to actually fall, Miguel caught your legs, holding you down to the bed with a tight grip on your thighs. He kept his eyes on your face, watching as your expression morphed from discomfort to bliss as he pulled out and began a steady pace. 
Holding you down, Miguel thrust forward, again and again, your noises of pleasure being pulled from your body as his cock nailed your prostate. His heavy balls smacked against your skin, the noise of the motion filling the room as your sweaty skin made contact over and over. 
Your cock leaked against your stomach, making a messy puddle of sweat and precum. Your body felt tight like a bowstring, like your cock was ready to spill and coat the rest of your stomach with your cum. You knew you were close, not only from that feeling, but also the physical sensation in your gut, a warmth that was steadily spreading as your orgasm approached. 
“Gonna pump you so full, everyone will know what we’ve done. You’ll fucking reek of me, of my cum.” Miguel said, his voice gruff and deep, full of an intensity that you knew only he could deliver. 
The words sent you over orgasm, your back arching off the bed. Over and over the aftershocks ran through your body, sending sparks of pleasure from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. 
Afterward, you could only lay there as Miguel used you for his pleasure. He held you in a bruising grip to create the perfect channel for his cock to fuck into. It was almost too much, stars of overstimulation bursting behind your eyes when he finally came after a few stuttered thrusts. 
You knew the ache in your body wouldn’t last, but you still couldn’t help the whimper that came from your throat when Miguel let your legs go. He maneuvered you around until his softening cock could slip free and he was able to wrap his body around yours. 
“You’re throwing that cologne away after I fuck you in the shower when we wake up,” Miguel said, and though he was tired, his voice was still full of the command that you were used to. 
“Maybe I should keep it know what it-”
Miguel runs his sharp fangs over the back of your neck, his claws once again making their presence known where his arms are wrapped around your waist. The prick of them cut off your words, but you can’t help the snicker that comes out. 
Nearly on the edge of sleep, Miguel pulls you out, “did you buy it on purpose?”
You let out a yawn before responding, “I wasn’t trying to seduce you, Miguel, I just liked the way it smelled,” you said, hoping that he wasn’t able to hear how your heartbeat stuttered from the lie. 
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suuuupernovaaa · 9 months
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Taxi Cab
Hobie Brown x f!Reader
She would never hurt anyone. He would hurt anyone for her.
Before Hobie, nothing very eventful ever happened in my life. I grew up in a happy home, went to a good school, and decided to become an art teacher. I got good grades, I made life long friendships with people similar to me, and I kept my head down and minded my business.
Though it's been nearly half a year since he came rocketing into my life, I still can't put my finger what exactly drew Hobie to me. We don't have a lot in common. Where I am passive, Hobie is active and fierce. Where I am lenient, Hobie is harsh. Until Hobie, I had never listened to punk music, considered anarchy, or pierced a single thing on my body.
Well, I still haven't done the last one. Besides my ears. Needles are too much for me. Sometimes I get nervous that the spikes on Hobie's wardrobe are going to stick me.
Hobie is a force. He's dangerous, he's passionate, he's larger than life. Being near Hobie is addictive. He has a gravity around him that draws people in, but it tends to spit them out at much the same rate.
For some reason, I've been able to hang on. Sometimes it feels like clinging for dear life, until he reminds me how much he cares.
Even though he can do that in odd ways.
Like tonight.
Ever since I met Hobie, trouble seems to follow me around. I've been mugged twice, had my tires slashed, and even had to move because someone broke into my apartment and trashed the place.
My parents are becoming increasingly alarmed, only satisfied in the fact that Spider-Punk always seems to be nearby. They don't necessarily approve of Spider-Punk (I mean, most don't), but they do at least appreciate that he seems to be looking out for me.
Which is so weird! Hobie can't figure it out either, but he says Spider-Punk is a narcissistic asshole who only saves people to get attention for himself.
He might just be mad that I said I thought Spider-Punk seemed like he'd be cute, under the mask.
I was hoping my luck had turned around and I wouldn't need to run into Spider-Punk again for a while, but I guess that was just silly optimism. On my way to Hobie's with two large bags of groceries in hand, I'm stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk when a taxi cab crashes directly into a fire hydrant.
The fire hydrant lets loose a typhoon of water in my direction, and I scramble to the right to get out of the water, but it's too late. I'm soaked.
"Oi!" I hear the unmistakable sound of Hobie yelling. He was heading my direction after I told him the bags were getting heavy, and arrived just in time to witness the crash. He wrenches open the door of the car and pulls out the taxi driver. He seems unharmed, a little shaken up, with heavy bags under his eyes and a wobble in his step.
Drunk or high.
"You could've killed someone!" Hobie is shouting, looking over at me and then back at the driver. "I ought to kick your fucking arse." He pushes the man against the side of his cab as the water continues to spray. I drop the groceries, mostly ruined now, and approach Hobie.
The man is muttering something under his breath, and as I reach them, I can smell the liquor coming through his pores.
I grab Hobie's arm. "I'm okay. Come on."
"No, I saw it, he nearly killed you, Y/N. Just a few feet over, you'd be gone. Then I'd have to fuckin' kill him!" Hobie slams him against his car one more time, and I pull on his arm harder.
"But he didn't. The cops are on their way. Let's go. I need help carrying the groceries, and it's too cold for me to be all wet."
Hobie looks at me finally, really looks at me, and then with one more burning glance at the inebriated taxi driver, gruffly releases his collar and turns to me.
Effortlessly, he scoops me up into his arms, bridal-style, and I gasp. He strides with ease over to our drowned groceries, and bends down, picking them up in his hands.
"Jesus, have you been working out?" I ask.
His face is too tense for a smile, but the corners of his mouth twitch. Despite my protests, he carries me into his building and up three flights of stairs, only setting me down once we are safe inside the walls of his apartment.
Without me asking, he goes into his room and brings out a pair of leggings I've left here before, and one of his t-shirts. I change in the bathroom, drying my hair as best I can with a towel, before going back to the kitchen to see what can be salvaged of the groceries.
"I think I can still do something with this! The bread is gone but, homemade bread crumbs aren't like, necessary. They're just fancy." I turn to see Hobie leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, still scowling. "Uh, or I can go to the store, if the homemade bread crumbs were like, important."
I let out a yelp of surprise when Hobie pushes himself off the counter and strides towards me, grabbing me by the shoulders and bringing me to him for a rough, passionate kiss.
In moments, I meld into him, wrapping my arms around his waist as his fingers find their way into my hair, and his tongue enters my mouth.
This kiss feels different. Urgent, feverish, desperate. He holds me tightly, pressing me so close to him it feels like he wants us to be one person, like he would climb right into my skin.
I pull away for just a moment, gasping for breath. "Are you okay?" I say on an exhale.
Hobie stares down at me intensely, his hands still in my hair, his eyes wild and the corners of his mouth turned downward.
"I would do anything to keep you safe," he says flatly. "There's no limit to what I'd do."
I bring my hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks, nodding. "I know, Hobie."
"I would have killed that man if you hadn't stopped me."
I know he's exaggerating to make a point, but a chill runs up my spine a the way he says it so calmly, with no hint of irony. I remember his chest heaving, the wild look in his eyes as he held that drunk man up against his own car.
He looked out for blood.
"I'm okay, Hobie. So are you."
"Move in with me. You hate that new place. Stay here."
We've only known each other six months. We're barely adults. I make no money as a new teacher and I honestly haven't figured out how Hobie seems to make so much money off the gigs he plays. It's too soon to move in together. It's not smart.
But I love him. And he loves me. We haven't said it yet, but I don't know that we need to. I can see it in his eyes, feel it while he holds me, taste it on his lips.
He loves me.
"Okay."
"Today. Like, we can get your stuff later, but don't sleep there anymore. Stay with me."
I nod and lean forward, pressing my forehead to his chest. His hands finally leave my hair, and wrap tightly around my shoulders. I listen to his heartbeat - rapid at first, but as we stand there, silently clinging to each other, it begins to slow down.
He's pressing soft kisses to the top of my head, humming quietly, and I've never felt more in love.
I've never felt more cared for, more loved in return, more safe.
Six months or sixty years. I don't think it matters.
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soapsilly · 4 months
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Bad Memories - Roronoa Zoro Imagine
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Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Spoilers for One Piece (?)
Summary: (Y/N), a black market dealer, begrudgingly joins the Straw Hats after having to admit to herself that a strong crew would help her reach her goal faster. However, being on a ship with the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro brings back some old memories she'd rather not be reminded of.
Requests are closed
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"Oooooh, what is this?", Luffy reached out to the mysterious object that was displayed on one of the countless shelfs.
"If you touch it, you buy it", (Y/N) spoke up from where she was leaned over the counter, trying to figure out what it was the cyborg wanted from her.
Franky needed a very specific tool to modify parts of the Sunny. A tool he didn't have and didn't necessarily could get easily as it was classified as marine technology.
"That's a very unusualy request you got there", she furrowed her brows.
Nami knew what that meant - when vendors said something along those lines what they usually meant was 'that's gonna be price-y', but the red-head prided herself in being a pro in haggling down any price however high it may be.
"Listen, I know what that means. I also know that that's bullshit. So you better make us a good price because we're going to get that piece one way or another", the navigator tapped her finger against the counter top.
"Oh, that's not what I meant", the dealer shrugged, "I literally meant nobody ever asks me for those things. Most people don't even know they exist. I'm not trying to get rich here, however, I will get a reasonable price for it or you can go and find the tools you need somewhere else"
While the two were talking finance, Franky was already tinkering around with the newly attained pieces and Luffy was doing god knows what.
"Is that a Devil Fruit??", Luffy's voice reached them from somewhere out of the depths of the storage room.
"Yes, do you want it? I'll make you a good price", the dealer yelled back.
Within seconds the Rubberman was at their sides again.
"YES! Nami, please can we? Usopp would love that! Or Chopper!"
"Chopper already has a devil fruit power!", the red-head yelled back.
"Oh. Right. Then for Usopp!"
While the two of them startet arguing about whether or not they'd need another 'idiot' with devil fruit powers on the team a tall blonde guy almost kicked in the door to (Y/N)'s storage.
"We need to leave! The stupid marimo started a fight in the city and now a bunch of marines are here-", it seemed like the man wanted to say some more but stopped talking once he saw the woman behind the counter, "Oh, beautiful lady! Mon Amour! My name is Sanji and I'm-"
"Wait let me get this right... some dumbass from your crew starts a fight with the marines and the first thing you do IS RUN BACK TO MY WAREHOUSE?!", the dealer was furious, "You need to leave. Now!"
(Y/N) started to frantically pack together the most important things, so that once the marines should really try to barrel down her front door, she'd be set to make a swift exit out the back.
"Just come with us!", the Straw Hat exclaimed happily, "you have so much great stuff here! Having someone on the crew who can find all those things would be so cool"
"No", her voice was icy, "I've known you for thirty minutes and you already put my livelyhood at risk. I think I'll pass" - that there was a whole nother reason the dealer didn't want to join the notorious pirate crew, she decided to keep to herself.
From outside the voices and footsteps from what (Y/N) could only imagine were dozens and dozens of marines grew louder.
"We need to leave", Nami commanded, "Sanji take her stuff"
"Of course, Nami-swan~", the blonde did as he was told and grabbed the huge sack filled with all kinds of things from the dealers hands. Not a minute too late as there there was a loud knocking that disrupted the womans attempts of resistance.
The Straw Hat as well as the Cyborg already adopted their fighting stance when the navigator held them back yet again. (Y/N) asked herself, who it actually was that was in charge here, but she didn't mind as she wasn't particularly eager to have a battle with god knows how many marines in a confined space.
"Is there another way out?", she turned to (Y/N).
"Follow me"
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Once outside all they had to do was to leave the place without making a fuss - a task seemingly unmanagable for Monkey D. Luffy. They weren't even 30 feet away from the warehouse when Luffy's loud voice could be heard all over the place.
"Oi, those aren't even that many. We could've taken them!" - followed by the even louder 'clunk' that Nami's fist made when it made impact with his skull.
"Shut up and just run!", she yelled at him. And they did. Every now and then a low ranking marine officer would catch up with them but either Franky or Luffy or even sometimes (Y/N) herself would take care of that. It was when one of the captains came dangerously close to them that they had to worry.
When (Y/N) started to notice the blonde guy fall behind, struggling with carrying her belongings and fighting off the marines at the same time, she realized that those things needed to go.
"Hey! Drop the sack! It's slowing you down", she yelled over at him.
"No, no! It's fine!", he yelled back, "I only fight with my legs anyways! Your belongings are safe with me"
"Doesn't matter. Drop it. It's not worth the risk", she insisted.
"Are you sure?", Nami sounded shocked, "I saw what you had in the shop. That stuff is worth a fortune! Sanji, don't you dare!"
"I don't care!", the dealer yelled back, "I'll get new stuff. If it makes you happy, you can keep whatever you can carry. Drop. The. Sack!"
For a moment the tall man hesitated but then did as he was told. As soon as he dropped the added weight, he immediately spun into a roundhouse kick, hitting an approaching opponent directly in the head to give the group time to bring some space between them and their followers. When (Y/N) stopped abruptly and started running back to where her things were scattered around Nami was almost sure the other woman had come to her senses but (Y/N) went straight past the incredibly expensive looking jewelry, the intricate tools and even the devil fruit, that Luffy was begging Nami for. Instead she was frantically sorting through the depth of the now half-empty sack.
"What are you doing?", Nami screamed at her, "whatever you're looking for you better find it quick!"
The marines were quickly catching up but (Y/N) still hasn't found what she was looking for.
"Hah! Found it", she yelled but as she was getting up she came face to face with the vice-admiral. However, she didn't even have the time to react or make a game plan as a fist whizzed past her, sending the marine flying. As soon as the fist appeared, it disappeared again. (Y/N) had heard about the Straw Hat Luffy's rubber abilities but she never would've guessed that they'd save her ass one day. She didn't allowe herself the time to dwell on it as she was sure that this punch would merely slow the captain down.
When they finally reached the ship the rest of the crew was already waiting for their mates. As soon as everybody had boarded the Thousand Sunny, as (Y/N) had found out the ship was called, the cyborg used a maneuver called coup de burst, which catapulted them to safety.
Once everything settled down, it was time for the crew to introduce themselves.
"Oi, everybody! This is...", Luffy trailed off once he realized that he had no idea what the girl's name was.
"Oh um.. it's (Y/N)"
"Guys, this is (Y/N) and she's going to join our crew"
(Y/N) furrowed her brows, "I'm not! You saved me back there and I'm thankful but you're also the reason I was in that situation to begin with. So I think it evens out. Just drop me off on the next island or... just... anywhere is fine...", she grew quiet towards the end.
"What? No! Our crew is great I promise! We'll find the One Piece and I'll be pirate king!"
"I don't care", she really didn't want to be there.
But Luffy wasn't know for his ability to take no for an answer. And so he kept throwing new points and arguments at her to make her change her mind. She didn't know what it was that did the trick in the end. Was it his determination? Or the things she's read and heard about the crew? The things they already accomplished? She simply didn't know. What she did know, however, was that reaching her goal would become much easier with some powerful allies by her side.
"Great", Luffy sounded happy, "so let me introduce you to everybody. You already know Nami. She's our navigator. That cool cyborg is Franky. He's our shipwright. This", he pointed towards the tall guy, that Nami had called Sanji before, "is Sanji. He makes the best food you've ever eaten"
"What's your favourite meal (Y/N)-san? I'll cook it especially for you tonight - to celebrate you joining us. Another beautiful lady on the ship ~"
(Y/N) was a little unsure how to react to the cook's advances but sent him a polite smile regardless.
"Don't worry, he's always like this. You'll get used to it", Nami assured her, "and if you're smart, you'll even figure out how to use it to your advantage", she sent the other woman a wink.
The black market dealer didn't get to answer though as Luffy continued. (Y/N) largely drowned out the words - like the ship's doctor insulting their captain for calling him a good one or the sceleton man asking her for the colour of her panties. She'd get to know them soon enough anyways.
"So and that's - "
"The pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro", (Y/N) finished for the Straw Hat.
"Oh, you already know each other?", Nami raised an eyebrow.
"Your reputation precedes you", the woman answered almost... bitterly?
"Oooh looks like somebody has a fan", the long nosed guy - Usopp - started teasing the swordsman.
"I wouldn't say that", (Y/N) mumbled as she left the crew standing.
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"Hey, (Y/N)! Can I talk to you for a sec?", Nami walked up to (Y/N), who, at the moment, was sitting down near the railing watching the water.
The girl raised her brows to show the red-head she was listening, but remained silent for the time being.
"You know today, when you ran back for your stuff, I really thought you finally came back to your senses but you didn't go for all the valuables... why? All you saved was this... book?"
The other woman just shrugged, "I got what I wanted"
"At first I wasn't sure what it was, you were looking for but then I talked to Sanji and he told me he's seen that kind of book before. A devil fruit encyclopedia... Why is it so important to you that you couldn't leave it?"
"Listen, Nami. I'm sorry I put you all in danger but I needed that book"
And with that the black market dealer left the navigator standing.
"She's even worse than Robin", the red-head mumbled to herself.
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It's been a few weeks since (Y/N) joined the Straw Hats and for the most parts it's been uneventful. For the first week or so she preferred to keep to herself but it was Sanji especially that wouldn't accept no for an answer whenever he told her to come eat dinner with the crew. But even then she made sure to always sit at the far end of the table to bring the most distance between herself and him.
She hadn't spoken a single word to the swordsman since setting foot on the ship and she was thankful that he didn't seem to care about trying to either.
"Don't mind the stupid Marimo. He's a brute. He wouldn't even know how to talk to such a beautiful flower as yourself ~", Sanji would regularly tell her but she'd just send him a tight smile and change the topic.
At the moment, she was sitting on deck tinkering around with Franky. She wasn't the best at crafting but she knew the tools so playing his assistent wasn't the worst past-time.
"I'm glad we got that tool before the marines stormed your warehouse", the cyborg told her, "I'm gonna build us some suuuuper cool stuff with it"
(Y/N) was just about to hand him another wrench when Zoro passed them on his way to the crows nest. During her time there she noticed that the lookout kind of was his personal training space. Of course, everybody was welcome to use it but nobody spent as much time there as the pirate hunter so she made a mental note to always stay clear of it. Her eyes lingered on the taller man's back as he passed them.
"(Y/N)!", Franky's voice pulled her back to reality and she had to pull herself together to not drop the wrench she was holding. This couldn't keep going like that. If she got distracted during a fight things might end up ugly - she knew that much.
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"Come with me?", he held out his hand to her knowing exactly that his question was only a formality. There wasn't a chance in the world that (Y/N) would ever let him leave without her - or quite frankly the other way around.
"You're insanse", she laughed but grabbed his hand without hesitation. They've known each other since they were only children - it was never a question of if but rather of when they'd finally get together.
"But you know you love me", he grinned at her, pulling her into his chest for a playful kiss.
She woke up and for a moment she felt at peace with the world, wanting to turn around snuggling into her pillow again. The rhythmic sound of breathing in the room calming her into a state of betweent sleep and being awake. But then she remembered... These breathing sounds weren't his. In fact, it was all just a dream.
Confronted with the harshness of reality she didn't feel like sleeping anymore, afraid of yet another dream that would give her a false sense of familiarity. Instead she slipped into a cardigan and decided to get some fresh air.
Once outside on deck, she took a deep breath. She enjoyed how cold the air was in those morning hours. The sun was just starting to rise - not even enough to paint the sky in these pink and orange tones she found so pretty.
"Couldn't sleep again?", the gruff voice made her jump. It was the first time that Zoro had spoken to her since she joined the crew but that didn't mean she wasn't familiar with his voice. It was almost involuntarily that her ears almost instantly perked up and her heart started racing whenever he started speaking around her. He triggered her fight, flight, freeze instinct and to her demise it was always freeze.
"Had a bad night", her voice was coarse.
"Seems to happen often"
She furrowed her brows. What was his deal? As if he could read her mind, Zoro continued.
"Out of the last five weeks, I was on night watch twelve times. And you were awake for at least ten of those times. And those were only the times I noticed"
"I-", she swallowed, "Being on a ship again just brings back some memories I haven't thought about in a long time..."
She didn't know why she told Zoro of all people but she couldn't take it back now anymore anyways...
"You've been to sea before?"
She let out a dry, humorless laugh.
'I don't want to talk about it. At least not with you', she thought to herself.
What she said instead was, "My fiance was a captain - My captain to be specific"
Zoro raised his brows, "You were engaged?"
The memory was bittersweet. She smiled sadly. The swordfighter noticed how pretty she was eventhough her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"We were young", she shrugged.
"So it ended badly I take it?", there wasn't a hint of empathy in his voice. What did she expect? Getting involved with your captain rarely ends well.
"Let's talk about something else...", she knew Zoro's mind probably immediately went to heartbreak but if she had the chance, she'd do it all over again as long as he was with her.
"You've been avoiding me", he stated, "why?"
Zoro wasn't a fan of beating around the bush. Of course he had noticed that the girl went out of her way to never having to interact with him in any way. He didn't sweat it though. He wasn't desperate for a new friend. If there was a new team mate, so be it. Didn't mean they had to like each other. What he was curious about, however, was why she seemed to apprehensive about getting to know him.
"I guess I just didn't want to risk starting to like you", she shook her head knowing how ridiculous that sounded.
Zoro furrowed his brows. From all the possible answers he could've gotten, this wasn't one he'd have expected. He was almost a little offended now.
"You didn't seem to mind getting to know the others"
"That's different", she sighed. He noticed how exhausted she looked.
"You knew me when you first joined the crew", he continued.
"Doesn't the whole world know you by now? The Straw Hats are notorious"
He didn't take this for an answer.
"You know as good as me that this is something entirely different. What I don't know, however, is what I did to you"
"Of course, you don't", she laughed bitterly. She knew that she wasn't fair to him. She didn't expect him to remember but she couldn't help it. Zoro blinked a few times, trying to figure out what it was the girl was talking about.
She sighed, "Do you ever have any regrets about being a bounty hunter in the past?"
He had never thought about that but he slowly shook his head after thinking about her words for a few seconds. He still wasn't sure what she was on about but he wanted to understand.
"I don't believe in regret", he answered. There wasn't anything he could do about his past. Back then he never would've thought that he'd ever become a pirate himself after making a name for himself as the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro but what happened happend. He tried not to rack his brains over it.
"Well, I do", she mused.
"(Y/N)", he wanted to tell her to just tell him what's going on but hesitated once he saw how she tensed up when her name left his lips. He almost felt bad for her, she looked so helpless. It wasn't like him to feel like that but something felt different about this situation.
"Nomi Malik", she sighed, "I don't suppose the name rings a bell..."
At first, Zoro wasn't sure who she was talking about. She could see his eyes moving trying to remember but then his brows creased just the tiniest bit. He did remember. Nomi Malik was one of the last pirates he caught before becoming one himself.
"Yes, I remember. Devil Fruit User... not very strong though. What about him?"
His words stung. They were true, of course they were. And then again they weren't. Malik wasn't weak. He had a hefty bounty on his head - otherwise Zoro wouldn't have wasted his time on him and his crew but the swordsman was extremely skilled - even before he became one of the Straw Hat Pirates. She didn't blame him stating the obvious though. When she visibly struggled to find the right words, he continued.
"Did you know him?"
'That's an understatement', she thought to herself.
Instead, she just nodded. He stayed quiet waiting for her to continue. He noticed the sun was starting to rise, casting a golden hue upon her features.
"We grew up together", she turned to look towards the horizon, "I can't remember a time when he wasn't there... well, except for now, of course..." - she got quiet upon the realization - "when he asked me to join him, it wasn't even a question"
Zoro raised his brows. He knew he didn't remember every single person he ever hunted down but he was sure that (Y/N) was never one of them.
"If you were part of his crew...", he tried to vocalize his thoughts.
"Then why didn't you catch me along with the rest of his crew?", she finished his question for him, "well, I hadn't had a bounty back then. I was completely irrelevant to you"
"So, where's he now? Impel Down? You know Luffy broke half of the inmates out a few years ago... He could be out there somewhere...", Zoro shrugged. What had happened to her was unfortunate but he just did what he had to do to survive. To say he felt bad would be a lie.
The girl opposite of him slowly shook her head though, "Wanted dead or alive...". She emphazised the word to show him that the marine truly didn't care. Either option was fine with them as long as there was a pirate less roaming the sea.
The swordsman was taken aback. What reason would the marines have to do this? They had imprisoned pirated way more powerful than Nomi's crew.
"No, that-"
"I was there", she cut him off, "I followed you when you handed them over. Right outside the marine base"
The smile returned on her face as she stared off somewhere into the distance.
"You were incredibly skilled even back then... of course there's no comparison to now... after your training with Mihawk, I mean"
Zoro knew he was good but the praise didn't feel as great as he was used to. At the moment, the only thing he felt was a weight upon his chest. He never felt remorse for his enemies but he was also never confronted with their surviving loved ones before. Most people thought of Zoro as cruel, heartless, a brute but that wasn't necessarily true. There were people he cared about - he just didn't show it. Besides, he knew how it felt like to lose someone.
"What happened?", he asked her, still not sure how thinks could've escalated.
"Malik was a lot like Luffy in a sense. Adventurous, fun-loving, great leader - stubborn though. There was no way he'd let himself and his crew get captured without a fight. He became a pirate for freedom. To see the world. He couldn't have that behind bars. I don't think he seriously thought he'd stand a chance. It was just his- I mean our crew against the whole base"
She made her way over the battlefield towards her lover. Slow. Too slow for her liking. For every yard she made she had to fight off two or three marines. Granted, most of them were only low ranking officers but there were too many for her liking. But for a moment things looked like they were turning in their favour - or at least favourable enough. Starting a fight was smart. If they played their chances right they could flee in the commotion.
From across the battlefield (Y/N)'s and Malik's eyes met. He sent her a darin wink looking as handsome as ever. She couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. Only her daredevil of a boyfriend could make this high stress situation somewhat romantic. 'I love you', he mouthed over to her but she didn't get the chance to answer anymore as a new wave of marines stormed the plaza in front of the base.
As more and more marines flooded the place it became harder and harder for (Y/N) and her crew to hold out against their attacks. When the first one of their crewmate's bodies hit the ground (Y/N) knew there would be no fleeing. She loved how loyal her lover was. Loyal to her and to his crew. But this also meant that this fight would have to end - one way or another.
The blood was rushing in her ears as (Y/N) witnessed more and more of her crewmates being critcally hit. Her friends. People she grew up with. Good people. She stood still for a moment. She saw Malik's first mate lying on the ground a few feet ahead of her. She and him used to play cards together. It was him who taught her the rules of the game and it was her who showed him how to cheat people out of their money by bending even those rules. Next to her their navigator crashed to the floor. (Y/N) knew him since she was a little girl. He always knew the best routes and alleys to get away from the vendors that would chase after them when they yet again decided to steal candies and little toys from them. Nobody knew their little village as good as him. She felt helpless - lightheaded almost - but she didn't have the luxury of taking the time to mourn her friends as she had to focus on getting ahead. Closer towards were Malik was fighting against a vice-admiral at the moment.
Her captain was a devil fruit user but his powers didn't seem to have any effect on the vice-admiral. (Y/N) knew this could mean one thing only - this guy's Haki was way stronger than Malik's. She knew she needed to get to them. She was aware that she couldn't be of much help, even without his devil fruit powers Malik was much stronger than her but whatever they did, they did it together.
She was still busy fighting several marines when a loud slashing sound followed by a muffled scream cut through the air. (Y/N)'s head whipped around just in time to see Malik's body hit the floor as well now. After the vice-admiral made sure the other male wasn't in any shape to get up and continue the fight, he just left him there to bleed out and die.
The ringing sound in (Y/N)'s ears was back and everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. As fast as her legs would carry her she hurried towards were her lover was lying in the dirt - the fight forgotten. A patch of his own blood staining his clothes growing bigger and bigger by the minute.
"Malik!", she screamed his name, tears already forming in her eyes. As she finally reached him, she wasted no time immediately sliding on her knees pressing her hands on the deep wound on his torso.
"It's okay now. I'm here. It's going to be okay", she babbled probably more to soothe herself rather than the dying love of her life beneath her.
"Baby... Ba-baby, listen. You need to leave", eventhough she could see in how much pain he was, the man - her captain - still send her a reassuring smile. His teeth and lips were already coloured red from his own blood but he still looked so incredibly handsome to her. He was still her Malik.
"What? No! Why would I do that? I'm not leaving you", the tears were now streaming freely down her face.
"You don't have a bounty. They don't even know who you are yet. This is your only chance. Please, I'm begging you. Leave"
How come all of them had to die while (Y/N), who was less strong - less experienced - got to live? It didn't seem fair to her. She shook her head making the tears fall everywhere from the motion. She wouldn't leave. If her whole crew, her captain, the man she loved with all her heart had to die, she'd go with them.
"What are you saying there?", she smiled through the tears, "We're in this together. I'm not leaving. I'm not", she repated the last phrase over and over again. Malik tried to gently interrupt her ramble but she wouldn't have it. It was almost like she didn't even hear him. It was only when he finally raised his voice that she fell silent and really listened to what he was saying.
"I don't have much time left, so listen to me now. I'm still your captain so you gotta do what I tell you", he tried to sound serious but failed knowing that their relationship has always been grounds for teasing within the whole crew and even among themselves. Even now, whilst being in pain and bleeding out, he never lost his happy spirit she fell in love with. She was reminded of the reality of the situation when his happy laugh soon turned into a hurtful cough, "I love you. I've loved you forever. And I always will. I'm sorry I never got to make you my wife. I'm sorry for being too stubborn. I'm sorry for everything"
There's so much she wanted to tell him. That there was nothing to be sorry about. That she'd do it all again. That she loved him more than anything. But all she could do was sob and put pressure on his wound to try and slow down the bleeding.
"Please. You need to leave now. I'll be fine - it's like going to sleep. It's easy. But- but I need you to be fine as well", he nodded up at her as she felt his hands on top of hers moving them away, releasing the pressure she was putting on the lethal wound on his torso. As soon as her hands left their place the blood started gushing and spilling over his body, making the pool of blood he was lying in rapidly increase in size. She cupped his face with one of her hands, stroking through his hair with the other, staining both in the process. Still crying she leaned down and pressed one last kiss on his lips that were already starting to become cold from the blood loss. The kiss tasted like the blend of her tears and his blood - salty and like iron. For a moment only him and her mattered. She knew those were the last moments that she'd ever have with her lover and she cherished every second of it.
A loud crash pulled her back to reality. The fight was lost and she knew she needed to get away. She took one last look at the love of her life before standing up and leaving him there - along with a piece of herself.
"I really miss him...", her voice grew thick and she swallowed to pull herself together. She wasn't the same since that day. She struggled with those memories. In fact, she didn't know which ones were worse - the happy memories from her dream or rather those painful ones. (Y/N) avoided thinking about it too much - she was plagued by guilt ever since she got to live while others had to die, "I had to leave the bodies there... They - the marine I mean - they didn't even bury them properly. They were just all thrown in some kind of unmarked mass grave or something... like... like a bunch of dogs"
Zoro didn't know what to say. The way the girl sat before him, he could tell how painful this all was to her and he felt bad that he was the reason for it. Contrary to popular belief, Zoro wasn't as clueless as most people thought. Most of the time he simply didn't care to pay enough attention but right now he had listened to every single word that left her lips and yet had still no idea what to say. He was truly lost for words.
"I'm... sorry", as soon as Zoro spoke the words he realized how foolish they sounded. Almost as if to apologize for eating the last desert or borrowing something without asking beforehand - not for indirectly being responsible for the death of a loved one. He wanted to tell her that he too knows how it feels to lose someone. That he never meant for that to happen but instead he just remained silent.
She sighed and quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with the palms of her hands.
"I have no ill will towards you. You only did what you had to do to survive. It's a dog eat dog world out there. I know this as good as you", she sent him a shaky smile, "You didn't kill him. It was his decision to fight. It's just... seeing you here again. Everyday. It brings back memories. I see you and I think of him. I can't help it. I know it's not fair to you but that's the only way I know how to cope at the moment", she shrugged like it wasn't that big of a deal but her inability to hold his gaze for even a second showed how she truly felt.
The morning sun was now fully out and slowly the other Straw Hats started to fill the deck - starting with Sanji, who was usually the first to get up everyday to prepare breakfast for the whole crew. (Y/N) decided to join him like most days. She was awake anyways so preparing breakfast with Sanji became like her little morning ritual. She sent Zoro a small smile before she left him sitting there alone with his thoughts.
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Zoro didn't show up for breakfast that day. (Y/N) was thankful for it. That morning was emotionally draining for her but there was also something else... It was the first time she's ever spoken about what had happened back then and apart from the vulnerability it felt good to properly allow herself to think of her old friends and her former lover again. She did allow herself to mourn them right after it happened but the guilt was overwhelming and most of the time she wished for herself to be dead as well. To combat those feelings she abandoned the memories of her old crew altogether - the hurtful ones as well as the happy ones - until she didn't think about them at all anymore. Of course, she never forgot them. She still had a goal to reach, but she just didn't allow herself to indulge in those memories anymore in fear of the emptiness inside of her returning. Today, was different though. Talking to Zoro about everything, re-living the situation hurt, but now that she was sitting in the dining area sorrounded by her new crew - that familiar hopelessness never came.
"Oi, where's Zoro?", Luffy spoke through a mouth-full of food.
"It was his turn with night watch duty tonight. He's probably catching up on sleep", Dr. Chopper explained. He was right. It wasn't unusual for the night guards to be absent during breakfast in the morning - especially for Zoro, who took any opportunity he could to squeeze in a good nap whenever he got the chance - but Sanji would usually make sure that whoever's turn it was would eat first and then go to bed.
"Fine by me", the captain laughed happily as he grabbed another stack of food from across the table, "that mean I get to eat Zoro's portion then"
(Y/N) silently agreed with the Straw Hat, not minding the swordfighter's absence at all. It was Sanji that wasn't having any of it though.
"Who does he think he is? (Y/N)-san and I spent all this time preparing this food. Cooking, frying, baking... And this stupid marimo doesn't even show up? Doesn't he know wasting food is a cardinal sin in my kitchen?"
"Oi, Sanji calm down. I don't think any food is going to wast", (Y/N) motioned to Luffy, who grabbed yet another set of plates, shoving everything in his mouth at once, "besides, we've all skipped breakfast before..."
Her words had the desired effect and the cook did indeed shut up about Zoro, so that she could finally enjoy the rest of her food in peace without having to worry about the moss head.
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After breakfast (Y/N) decided to spend some time with the others, doing chores, training and generally enjoying the day. The sun was out and Nami decided this was the perfect weather to sunbathe a little. And so (Y/N) found herself along with Nami and Robin, who preffered to read under a parasol, on deck soaking up the sun whilst being served and taken care off by Sanji. (Y/N) could've done without the overbearing cook bringing them iced tea and little snacks every few minutes but Nami insisted that he enjoyed being of service so they should just lean back and enjoy - which she eventually did.
It was only when Zoro did not show up for dinner either that she realized that (Y/N) hadn't seen the swordsman at all that day after their talk in the wee hours of the morning. For a moment she pondered if she should fix him a plate and bring it up to the crows nest, so that he didn't have to go hungry but then quickly decided against it. If he didn't want to see her, she wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable by forcing herself on him. 'He'll surely wander into the kitchen after dinner is finished and fetch himself some leftovers', she thought to herself, 'And tomorrow everything will be back to normal'
But the next morning Zoro still didn't show up for breakfast. Or dinner. Or the breakfast the morning after.
"Hey, Usopp... who's turn was it to keep night watch ?", she furrowed her brows. Did the swordfighter switch with Nami again in exchange for some extra allowance so that he could buy more booze during their next errand run? It was a win-win situation for the both of them. Nami got to have her 'much needed beauty-sleep' whilst Zoro could earn some money on the side. He usually slept during guard duty anyways, relying on his instincts to kick in should something or rather someone try to start shit. She halted for a second, when did she get to know him that well?
"Uh? Franky's I think, why?", the long-nosed sniper answered her but was quickly dimissed by a hand gesture from the black market dealer. This was weird... Was he mad at her now?
Ever since that morning with Zoro, she slept well - great actually. Granted, it was a dreamless sleep but she preferred it like this at that moment in time. When she awoke in the morning, she realized that she had slept in. A little disgruntled about nobody waking her for breakfast she made her way into the dining area.
She didn't expect to find the swordsman sitting there. Their talk was now about a week ago and still he had somehow successfully managed to avoid her at all costs. She didn't see him during mealtime. She didn't see him roaming the ship. He didn't even nap at his usual spots, whenever (Y/N) was nearby. (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. There definitely was a feeling in her chest and she definitely knew that it wasn't a good feeling but she couldn't quite tell what it was... Was it guilt? Guilt for dumping all her trauma onto him? Annoyance that it was now him that somehow couldn't stand even being in the same space as her? No... it was something else entirely... Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Talking to him - speaking her feelings - she hadn't felt so at peace in ages and she was thankful for the opportunity and now it felt like she created herself another problem.
When she entered the dining area, several heads turned to her, greeting her, teasing her for sleeping in but (Y/N) only had eyes for a certain mosshead at the very head of the table. Her heart involuntarily skipped a beat. She was glad to see him - a thought for which she would've bitten her own tongue a week ago. Maybe she was simply over-thinking and everything could go back to normal now...
Zoro however had other plans as he slowly lowered the cup he was holding, placing it back on the table, getting up in the process.
"Where do you think you're going?", Sanji started but the pirate hunter didn't even stop walking.
" 'M full", he mumbled as he passed the girl that was still standing in the doorway.
"Zoro... you don't-", she tried to reason with him, still in disbelief about what she was seeing but he didn't acknowledge her.
Luffy was already all over Zoro's leftover whilst Sanji was still raging about there being leftovers at all when (Y/N), who hadn't moved an inch, too shocked by what just had happened, finally spoke up - although more to herself, "I'm not hungry"
With that she turned on her heel leaving the Straw Hats sitting there perplexed about what it was they had just witnessed.
"What was that?", Usopp asked no emotion on his face or in his voice.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say relationship troubles", Nami answered not enjoying the thought of not knowing about what was up with those two. Little did she know that neither (Y/N) nor Zoro had any idea themselves. However from then on, neither of them would show up where they expected the other to be present aswell, which - to be fair - on a ship could be anytime or anywhere, so they mostly stuck to themselves. Zoro in the crowsnest and (Y/N) in the aquarium.
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Yet another fight. Why did these damn Straw Hats always have to get themselves into some kind of trouble? (Y/N) had heard about the G-5 marines before. She heard horror stories about the marines of this branch being insane and needlessly cruel, torturing pirates for fun, killing them without reason but (Y/N) didn't dwell on it. She learned years ago to not fear death anymore but even if she did, there wouldn't be much reason for it. The Straw Hats really were as strong as the people in the bars were telling themselves behind their hands whenever they entered the establishment.
She had never seen anybody fight the way Luffy did, using Haki and his devil fruit power almost effortlessly. If she wasn't so preoccupied with the marines she was fighting off, she'd just stand there and watch her captain fight the vice-admiral that the people called Smoker the White Hunter. Neither of them holding back on their attacks.
But it wasn't only Luffy, who was extremely powerful. She quickly realized that every single one of the crew could hold their own in a fight, making her scramble to prover her worth as well. She'd be damned if someone had to rescue her during their first real brawl.
She had to admit seeing Zoro fight, triggered some uneasy feelings she quickly had to abandon to the back of her mind. He was the only one whom she had seen fight before but last time they unfortunately weren't on the same side. Of course, he greatly improved from back then to now - she was glad she didn't have to stand before him on the battlefield. Fighting almost seemed to be fun to him but not in a way that she had seen with Luffy or even Malik. It wasn't a carefree happiness. She heard people talk about the pirate hunter as if he wasn't fully human - part demon even - but she always dismissed these rumours as drunken tavern talk nothing more, nothing less but now (Y/N) knew what it was they were talking about. If it weren't for the semi-friendly competition between him and Sanji, she'd be more concerned but as the two of them were at each others throat whenever they had a free minute, she figured it was normal.
Zoro must've struck down close to double the amount of marines that the rest of the crew had managed to defeat in the same time when he suddenly stopped, his devilish demenour forgotten. (Y/N) forrowed her brows, trying to understand what was going on over there. Who was that woman facing Zoro and why was he not fighting her? She knew Sanji never kicked a lady but (Y/N) has seen Zoro fight women before. So why was he not moving?
As the two of them were in the middle of what seemed to be a heated discussion in which the female captain tried to attack the green-headed fighter to get him to fight her, (Y/N) noticed that Zoro was so busy deflecting her hits that he didn't even noticed two marines wildly starting an attack from behind.
With a few long strides, (Y/N) stood between the pirate hunter and his attackers, striking them down in the process.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You should've seen that coming!", she yelled at him already finding herself in the next one on one fight. It was as if the pirate hunter was snapped out of his daze as he quickly made an exit, leaving the marine captain behind.
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"Hey", he walked up to her where she was sitting gazing at the surface of the water. The sun had already started to set and it was a bit chilly outside, so it was only the two of them on deck of the Sunny. (Y/N) couldn't help but to be reminded of the last time the both of them were alone out there, feeling at peace and strangely familiar with the mosshead.
"I saved your ass out there today", she told him, still not taking her eyes off of the water, "who was she? The marine captain with the glasses I mean"
Zoro hesitated for a moment. He didn't like talking about personal stuff. That was nobody's business anyways but she had opened up to him as well. She trusted him with her trauma, so maybe he should do so as well? Before he could make a decision, the dealer interrupted his thoughts.
"You could've easily taken her. I've watched her - she's good... but now that good", she was now looking at him, Zoro couldn't quite read the look on her face, "Listen, you do you but if we really are a crew I need to know that I can trust you..."
The fighter sighed but ultimately decided to tell (Y/N) all about Kuina, their goal and his promise to her. When he finished it was him that couldn't stand to hold her gaze anymore.
"That's very noble of you - holding on to your promise after all those years, I mean", she sent him a soft smile. Zoro noticed that she didn't seem to have any problems finding the right words. She didn't just stutter out an 'I'm sorry' for lack of a better idea.
The mosshead shrugged. Not even know he knew what to say to properly portray why becoming the strongest was so important to him.
"I understand, you know?", she continued, "I have a goal too. It's not as honourable as yours and it's entirely selfish to be honest but it's the reason I've become a black market dealer and just between the both of us? It's also the only reason I joined you guys", she lowered her voice for the last part eventhough she knew nobody could hear them.
Zoro was still hung up on her calling him honourable. That word was the last thing he would've described himself.
"What is your goal?", his voice was deep, no inflections, but he was genuinely interested.
She laughed to herself embarrassed about her ambitions but then decided to keep talking - albeit without looking at him, "I've never talked about this to anybody... When Malik died I swore to myself I'd find his devil fruit. I've been looking for years. Built up an underground trading network, buying and selling all kinds of useless junk so that I always have the funds to pay for should my vendors some day offer me the right one. No luck so far"
Zoro blinked a few times. He remembered Nomi's devil fruit. Whoever ate the fruit gained the ability to plant visions in their enemies heads gaining an advantage in combat situations but...
"Here in the New World many - if not all - people have Haki. You'd have to be very strong to overcome that", he tried to be gentle with his delivery, not wanting to insult her by implying that she'd be too weak to be a devil fruit user. She turned to fully face him now.
"Oh, I know...", she paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words, "it's just - I couldn't stand the thought of anybody else having his fruit. Being on the battlefield and having to fight against something that was such a core component of what made him him"
"So you just want to have it?"
She shrugged, "Don't tell Luffy I said that but I always thought a pirate that can't swim is a little foolish anyways. A recipe for disaster really"
For a moment the two just looked at each other but then the girl broke out in a huge grin. He hadn't seen her smile properly ever since she joined the crew. She was friendly to everybody - sans him of course - but she was never really happy. She tried to stop it by biting her lip but that made it only more charming to him.
"You saved me today", he dead-panned, looking down at her not knowing how to show his grattitude as he wasn't used to being saved. It was usually him that did the saving.
"I did"
"Why? I thought my presence brings back bad memories", his voice was low barely but a whisper.
"That doesn't mean I want you to die, you idiot", she sounded almost offended by his suggestion, "You've been avoiding me", she continued, now wanting some answers for herself.
"I didn't want you to be forced to eat at the same table with me. All those things that happened to you..."
She looked at him with a sad expression on her face placing a hand on his forearm. Usually the swordsman would've pulled his arm away but he just let her, "Zoro, I've told you before I don't blame you for what happened"
"Even if that were true, you said seeing me reminded you of what happened. So I stayed away"
She tried to find the right words to express her feelings. On one hand she felt incredibly guilty that he felt he needed to isolate himself from his crew - his nakama - just so that she would feel better and on the other hand she wanted to yell at him that he was being stupid. That he did too much. But there was also another feeling inside (Y/N)'s chest. Was it thankfulness? He had shown her that her feelings and comfort was in this moment more important to him than his own.
Zoro didn't know what to expect now. Did he do too much? Why was he so bad at interpreting people's emotions?? Much to his surprise the girl leapt into his arms, though, hugging him tightly. At first, he was a little overwhelmed but soon hugged her back.
"Thank you, Zoro", she mumbled into his shoulder, where her face was buried.
"I- Don't mention it...", he decided to tighten his grip around her waist a little, "You said- that you didn't want to risk starting to like me-"
He couldn't even finish what he was trying to say as the woman who was comfortably nestled in his arms wiggled and struggled to free herself from his grip. Why did he say that? He scolded himself. Why would he remind her of her resolution to keep her distance. There were a thousand thoughts rushing through his head - which would've been a lot for any person, but was even more especialy for Zoro, who usually didn't think much about things. But maybe that was the problem, he told himself. At least he had a good poker face...
"Zoro, look at me", she put both her hands on either side of his face to make sure he'd actually look at her, "it's a little late for that... I like you already"
"You- you do?", the mosshead couldn't help but to sound surprised.
"Yep", she popped the 'p', Zoro's eye flickered down to her lips for just the fraction of a second. He hoped that she didn't notice but no such luck.
"I think I've liked you since the first time we talked, I just didn't realize it until you started avoiding me", she leaned in closer, sliding her hands from the sides of his face to the back of his neck. He could feel her breath on his lips now as she voice was barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"
He didn't even answer. Instead he leaned down and pressed his lips onto hers and it didn't take long for (Y/N) to return the kiss. It wasn't hungry or passionate. They didn't make out. It was sweet and it was full of emotions.
"So that's what you two have been doing during mealtime, huh?"
The two of them jumped apart as they heard Usopp's voice.
"And here I was starting to think the two of you disliked each other", Nami added.
(Y/N) and Zoro shared a look trying to gauge how the other wanted to handle this.
"If you only knew..."
************************************************************************
Epilogue
It's been a few weeks since Usopp and Nami caught the two of them on deck. They both decided to let them believe whatever they thought they deduced on the spot. (Y/N) was happy either way. Of course, she would never be able to forget what had happened in front of that marine base a few years back - she didn't even want to forget - but she decided it was time for her to move one. She knew Malik would want that for her. And whenever she wandered the deck in the wee hours of the morning now it was not because she was plaqued by the bad memories, but solely because she decided to keep the green-headed swordfighter company and sit by the water and talk, daydream and watch the sea.
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lunargrapejuice · 26 days
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Hiya Luna, I hope you’re doing well 🥰! I saw your requests were open and decided to send one in, I hope thats alright! If I may, may I ask for Sephiroth and the prompt “It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.” please? Ngl I was going to ask for Cloud or Zack because they’re my faves, but I got too nervous 🙈!
Thank you so much and I hope you have a lovely weekend 🥰!
lyra!!! it is more than alright! i am so so happy that you did🥰🩷 and PLEASE LOVELY YOU CAN ABSOLUTELY ASK FOR ZACK OR CLOUD!! - I'D LOVE TO TRY WRITING SOMETHING FOR THEM💕 thank you so much for submitting this one🥺 - i'm down bad bad this also got longer than i planned whoops 🤭
🌙 prompt event
“it’s weird. i never thought i could feel like this, but you showed up. now, it’s like i don’t wanna go on knowing i might lose the feeling.” | sephiroth x reader with no pronouns used
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it’s safe to admit to himself that love is very unfamiliar. 
growing up sephiroth was taught that such feelings make you weak, softens the heart that should be hardened and cold and calculating. over time he had learned for himself how not necessarily true that was. maybe it wasn’t love, at least not in the capacity in which he feels it now, but he’s cared for comrades and friends even when others might argue it made him weak. but what’s before him now, and slipping through his fingers each day that passes, is something he has never experienced. 
something he never saw coming and hasn’t known what to do with but also doesn’t know what to do without. 
and he was going without considering you were actively avoiding him and hadn't spoken a word to him in what felt like weeks. even in meetings you were forced to attend together, you always left swiftly and without another glance his way, finding one reason or another to deny him a moment of your time and when he almost caught you alone in the hallway, your eyes meeting for but a moment, you were gone as quickly as he had blinked. 
he has been wrecking his brain on what he had done wrong that would make you avoid him, his mind wandering to the chest aching distance between you every chance it got. he had almost lost to angeal in training two days because of it and nearly again to genesis today before his friend looked knowingly into his eyes and recited loveless; ‘the wandering soul knows no rest’
the words echo in his mind, in genesis’ voice no less, when he spots you in the distance. restlessness doesn’t quite begin to describe what your absence was doing to him. it was an uncomfortableness he had never felt before. one he had to do something about because every day it grows worse and if it stays like this he fears you’ll be torn from him entirely. 
it already feels like you are. he looks as collected as he always does but inside his heart stirs and he knows he cannot let this go any longer. 
you swear you saw him down the hall in your side view. he was impossible to miss for so many reasons but the most prominent of them all being your eyes were always evidently drawn to him, just like your heart had been and you cursed them both when they made you stall in your sprint to run away and avoid him right now.
it’s not as though it’s what you wanted but it is what you felt was best when you could feel yourself not being able to hold back your emotions. he couldn’t know, even though you’re sure it was written all over your face everytime you stole a glance but stolen looks weren’t the same as saying the words i love you and being rejected by someone you couldn’t bear to lose. 
so you started your plan of avoiding him until those feelings disappeared. except the distance had not made them go anywhere, leaving them to simmer uncomfortably in your chest like they might burn you. when you saw his lips fall each time you made an excuse to get out of his vicinity, you felt nauseous for upsetting him. it wouldn’t be forever, you keep telling yourself but you don’t know how true that actually is. you cannot picture a life without these feelings; without the way his smile makes your insides buzz with warm incomparable to the sun, with how safe and cared for you feel in his proximity and how utterly gentle shinras strongest soldier is whenever he touches you.
you turn around to make your escape just in case your peripheral vision is not playing tricks on you but before you can make it two steps, you’re staring at his half hidden chest, hardened leather around soft skin your hand aches to touch. so it’s like that, using his actual speed to not let you get away. perhaps you had made him more upset than you initially thought..
“sephiroth!” you smile up at him and it nearly reaches your eyes if it weren’t for the shake of your voice that accompanies your eagerly beating heart. 
“you’ve been avoiding me.” it’s not a question but a very obvious observation that fills you with guilt, though he hadn’t said it in an accusing tone.
your smile falls and you swallow the lump building in your throat, unable to meet his eyes but you don’t try to deny it. “.. i’m sorry. i just..” you can’t find any words that aren’t just the truth.
taking a step back, to run or just put a little more distance between you and find your strength to push back the emotions, you really aren’t sure for which but within an instant his hands are on your face, cupping your jaw like you’re made of glass but in a steady hold that told you he didn’t want to let go, bringing your gaze up to his. you could pull away if you really wanted, you knew he’d let go without you having to ask but you don’t do anything of the sort.
thin slitted pupils stare back at you, swirling in a sea of blue and green and glowing with mako and your brain screams for you to bite your tongue while your heart urges the words forward but he looks at you like he’s going to say something, staring at you with an expression you can’t decipher nor look away from while he pauses.
he says your name, breaking the silence between you, and you hope he can’t feel the heat of your cheeks and neck with the way your body reacts to the way he says it. then he chuckles a bit breathlessly, like it’s helping him let go of something that was holding him back before. 
“i cannot stand being away from you. it’s weird..” he says, his thumbs brush along your cheeks and you swear the world around you stops, like the goddess is leaving this moment only for the two of you. “i never thought i could feel like this,” he smiles fondly and you feel your eyes soften in time with his, your hearts beating with sync. “like i have something to care for. someone i can be my true self with. but you showed up and now, it’s like i don’t want to go on knowing i might lose the feeling.” 
your heart is somehow tearing and mending itself back together at his words and you finally let yourself touch him in return, feeling the wetness of your tears dripping from your lashes before you realize you’re crying. 
his expression falls to worry as he wipes every tear that falls but all you can do is smile and shake your head, closing the distance between you and letting your worries crash to the ground as you reply to him in earnest.
♡♡♡♡♡
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throneofsapphics · 6 months
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someone who loves you wouldn’t do this
Feysand x f!Reader
Summary: Angst-tober Day 12, “You can run, we’ll find you every time.” with Feysand 
Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of kidnapping, murder, dark feysand, torture? sort of, dubcon, dark feysand, smut-ish, minors dni!
A/N: sooo I accidentally posted it this morning, but I've re-edited it now!
kink/angst-tober masterlist
“You can run, we’ll find you every time.” A shiver ran down your spine. Not necessarily the words themselves, but how he said it - as if it were something normal. His mild tone and the small quirk of lips told you he thought running away was just a hobby of yours, just a way to tease them. Like you didn’t crave your freedom with every inch of your being, like the siren call of the outside world wasn’t your entire focus, day in and out. 
There was nothing you could hide from him, any walls you built up were torn down without a second thought. You could only run because he let you. He desired the chase, the hunt, and eventually the capture. Once, you made it beyond the borders of Prythian, fleeing for the continent. When he discovered the village hiding you, he made you watch as they slaughtered every last adult who helped. From the sweet older female who gave you a job, to your landlord, and to the few friends you’d made over the months you settled there. 
The early fall winds whipped brutally against your cheeks as you sprinted, pushing your Fae body to the absolute limits. A small pack tugged at your shoulders uncomfortably, but there wasn’t time to fix that, not now. You finally broke the city wards with relief flushing your entire being. Made it. You were free, free from Velaris. But, you knew you weren’t out of danger yet. As long as you stayed in the Night Court it would be much easier for them to find you. So, you found yourself on the continent. 
The freedom lasted six months before she came. 
“Rhys fetched you last time, it was my turn.” She said, leaning against your doorway. You wished you could winnow, you could do something to escape, but Cauldron boil you, you were trapped. The only way out would be to overpower her and there’s no chance you could do that. “But - he insisted on coming this time. “He’s making an example of your friends,” she said with a bitter tone.
“Please,” your voice was hoarse, “please don’t.” and you fell to your knees, prepared to beg for their lives. 
“None of that,” she tutted. “It will only make it worse for them.” 
A broken cry left your lips as she curled her fingers in. 
Helpless against them and subject to their whims and moods. Maybe … maybe if you didn’t give them what they wanted, and stayed perfectly in place, they would tire of you and throw you out eventually. 
“Not happening,” that voice, as cold and cool as night, swept its way into your mind. “I promised you eternity and you already know I keep my promises.” His presence left as soon as it came, a claw stroking down the inside of your mind. 
At least you weren’t foolish enough to bargain away your life to them. Those first few years, filled with a haze of love and lust, of gratitude from the difficult life they tugged you out of, those were the best years of your life. Joy and hope for the future you began to build with them, before they slowly dismantled it. Brick by brick, they tore you back down to rubble and tried to build you up again in their image. 
You could only take satisfaction in how they were failing miserably at that. They had underestimated your stubbornness and your desire for independence. How could someone go from love to loathing in such a short period of time? You knew one truth, someone who loves you wouldn’t do this. It's an obsession, a facsimile of love, no matter what they told you or how much they professed. Even if you did love them back, in some sick and twisted way, it was inconsequential. 
When you got the chance to leave, it wouldn't be a planned or thought out occasion, you would have to act impulsively and take a chance if it ever came up. 
Feyre swept into the room, her dress fluttering behind her. She was beautiful, in every sense of the word, and you tore your eyes away from her as she approached you. She tilted your chin up and pressed a kiss to your forehead with a soft smile on her face. 
“How’s my favorite person?” She asked, sitting next to you and tugging you into her side. You urged your body to stay stiff, but inevitably you melted into her. 
“I’m hurt,” Rhys gasped, pressing a hand against his chest. They were in a small argument right now, and whenever that happened you tended to get tugged into the middle as a buffer. You hated it. 
“I didn’t ask you.” She snipped, and turned to you again. “How are you, love?” 
You despised how your pulse fluttered when she called you that. 
“Y/n’s having traitorous thoughts,” Rhys said with a cruel smirk. A half-hearted snarl left your lips, your eyes narrowed at the High Lord. 
“Really?” Feyre ran one hand down your arm, before settling on your hip and giving a bruising squeeze, her nails digging in the soft skin. “You know leaving again would be a stupid decision.” 
You didn’t reply. You’d made many ‘stupid’ decisions over the years, there’s no need to change now. 
“You’re smarter than that.” She said when you didn’t answer her. You yelped as she pinched your hip. “Aren’t you?” 
“No.” 
“At least you’re honest,” she sighed and you felt her magic reaching out, pushing and testing all of the new wards surrounding the house. 
“Not that I could get away with lying,” your fists clenched, tugging the fabric on your pants to keep yourself calm. 
“I suppose you couldn’t, not anymore.” 
Not anymore. Not since they dragged you back here. 
Rhys tossed you in a chair, and threads of his magic wrapped around your arms - binding your entire body to the chair and rendering you immobile. At his mercy. You knew what was coming next, and tried to wiggle out of them anyways. “This is going to hurt, darling.” 
“I thought you could make it painless,” you panted, your chest heaving, sobs lingering under your skin. 
“Oh I could,” he traced your cheekbone, one hand holding your jaw when you turned your head away from him. He crouched so he was at eye-level with you. His eyes were black as the night sky - no hint of violet or playfulness in them. Cold. “But I want you to remember this, Darling. Consider it a lesson.” 
“I - I will, I promise. Please.” You hated that you were reduced to begging already, but … this was a kind of pain beyond measure for you and knowing Rhys could choose exactly how much pain to inflict. It kicked in your sense of self preservation. 
He hummed, rubbing his hand over his jaw as if he was contemplating it. “No. I quite like your screams.” 
Tears leaked from your eyes, streaming down your face. As he began, your screams filled the entire room. Layer by layer, your mind was torn apart - not even a shred of a wall or barrier left behind. He left memories of your old life behind, but you didn’t think he was doing it from the kindness of his heart. In a sick way, he wanted you to remember how bad it was.
A small tap on your cheek brought you back to the present. You blinked heavily, finding Feyre looking at you - head tilted, blue-gray eyes searing into you. Teeth tugged into your bottom lip, and her eyes tracked them, pupils blowing. Betraying you, your body reacted to her slightest movement, the caress of her hand on her neck. Feyre noticed it, with no small amount of satisfaction, and grasped your hips, tugging you so you straddled her lap. 
Soft. Her touches were so damned soft, running up and down your sides, thumbs ghosting over your breasts. 
“You don’t need to pretend,” she murmured.
“Pretend what?” you snapped, ignoring the sharp look she pinned you with. 
“That you don’t like this.” 
“I don’t.” You protested, trying to wiggle away. Feyre’s hands tightened on your hips and Rhys snorted behind you.
“Liar,” he purred, his voice echoing through your mind. 
Rhys sent an image; 
You were sprawled on your bed, Feyre’s head between your legs, Rhys propped behind you, his hand on your chin - directing your attention to the mirror across from the bed, “Watch Feyre make you come, darling.” You squirmed, hips keening into Feyre, her tongue flicking against your clit, screaming as you -
“Stop,” you tried to shout at him, but the scene played out - you were helpless to stop it. The pleasure ran through your body, feeling it almost as if it was happening to you now. 
Before you could shout again, you reeled back into the present - Feyre smirking at you, her hand caressing your side now. Rhys’s edged chuckle came from behind you, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. 
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pagesfromthevoid · 1 year
Text
Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 3
Din Djarin x princess!reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Reader is a bit unhinged and wants din to kill her. Din is a simp and he’s known reader for less than a day
Author’s Note: Thriving on our space cowboy
Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!
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The Chase
“Before we leave, can I pick up a few things?”
She was walking in front of Mando —only a few steps but enough to not have her feet stepped on. He was giving her more leeway than she anticipated, though she assumed it was because he didn’t see her as a threat. And she certainly wasn’t.
Not to him, at least. She was more of a threat to herself.
But she wanted to spend what money she had left on things to enjoy, even if it was to be enjoyed on a bounty hunter’s ship. The trip from Nevarro to Senex wasn’t necessarily long. It was five days max; apparently just enough time to put a bounty on her head, but given that the bounty hunter behind her didn’t seem to be a talker —well, she’d like to get something to entertain herself with.
“What do you need?” His voice was distinct through the modulator in his helmet, though she wondered what he really sounded like.
“Food, mostly,” she continued, pulling her backpack around to the front. He stopped her, however, taking the bag from her. For a moment, she gave him an annoyed look. “Give me my bag, Mandalorian.”
He ignored her, opening the bag to riffle through the contents. While she didn’t have anything bad in there, she certainly didn’t want someone just searching her things. But she supposed this is what she gets for running away.
When satisfied with his search, he handed it back to her unceremoniously. She huffed in annoyance, but went back into what she was originally doing —tallying up what she had and determining what she needed.
“I’d like to get something to read,” she went on, closing the bag up and putting it back on. “You don’t seem like someone who is going to entertain a guest —no offense, of course. I just figure I should entertain myself and stay out of your way.”
He made no indication that he had heard her, aside from a slight nod towards the market place. She hesitated a moment, looking up at him. Truthfully, she didn’t think he’d let her. While he wasn’t necessarily being nice, he wasn’t being overly aggressive towards her either. But his nod to the market was all she needed for her to know he trusted her just enough.
That would change soon, she was sure.
He wouldn’t take her money now and put her out of her misery. But she would find a way to make whatever money her mother offered her less appealing than simply being rid of her.
She had a week to get the Mandalorian to kill her.
*****
Mando didn’t let her out of his sight as they walked through the marketplace. She wasn’t making a run for it, and she had no weapons in her bag. But he didn’t like how easy this was –how willingly she just gave up. Karga was a lot of things, but his warnings were usually valid.
She’s a fighter.
But she didn’t even try to put up a fight.
Mando didn’t trust that. Something else was happening, and she was up to something. There was no other way around it. Unfortunately for her, however, he had figured that part of her plan out. Which just left figuring out the rest of her plan.
Grogu had been trailing beside her in his sphere, following her as she went through each stall. Mando listened as she spoke quietly to the child, asking him what he would be interested in or what he liked. Grogu only responded in little giggles and coos, reaching for the small things she held out to him. The kid finally settled on a stuffed tooka, though Mando was certain it was only because Grogu remembered eating one weeks ago.
Probably best not to mention that to her.
He stepped closer to Grogu, who held the toy up to show him. Mando reached over to brush a gloved finger against the toy, acknowledging it, before he returned his attention back to her. She was looking over a stack of books, fingers trailing over the spines. Something about the motion caught his attention, and he couldn’t help but watch her as she went through each book. Mando chalked it up to having to watch her, but he knew deep down that wasn’t why he was.
Her nails were painted —well, were previously, at least. The paint was chipping in places, but matched the fabric he had seen in her backpack earlier. A deep green, flecked with gold, that signified her actual position in the galaxy. But the nails were broken and jagged, shortened more so than they were supposed to be. If Mando had to guess, she had bitten them down at some point recently. He wondered why —what could cause her to be so wary that she turned to nail biting? What was in Senex —
“Do you like to read?” She asked, breaking his thought process as if feeling his gaze on her. A book was held up in his face, though he snatched it unintentionally harshly, and set it down.
“Don’t have time.”
“That doesn’t tell me if you like reading or not,” she retorted, glancing over at him as she picked up two more of the books.
Mando didn’t know how to answer the question. He couldn’t remember the last time he even sat down to read a book that wasn’t a manual or a quarry’s background files. Religious texts he read, though not recently.
“No,” was the safest answer, he supposed.
“What a shame.” And she sounded sincere.
Mando didn’t respond to the comment, instead choosing to step aside after she finalized her payment to guide her back outside. She didn’t look at him as she passed, though he couldn’t help himself as looked her over up close.
The hologram gave a good idea of what she looked like as a princess –beautiful, wide-eyed and regal –but Mando preferred her civilian appearance. It felt less forced, and she moved through the crowds with an ease that suggested that this wasn’t necessarily her first time wading through people. And she knew what she needed to wear; it wasn’t simply for show. It wasn’t to hide in plain sight. It was practical.
Meticulously picked out to ensure she not only played the part of a civilian traveler but would be able to withstand whatever environments she may have found herself in. Proper boots, laced and buckled up her calves with the legs of her pants tucked into them. An empty holster was wrapped around her thigh –and while it may be empty now, he was certain she probably didn’t plan to keep it empty if she had gotten any further in her runaway plans. Even up to the shirt and vest she wore, which were both simple enough in practicality. It all fit her well, shaped with the natural curves she had, but protected her against the elements as needed.
Someone taught her to do this. No princess would run away and have the knowledge to blend in and be practical without being taught.
As Mando moved to follow her out, she stopped short in front of him. He bumped into her and instinctively, he reached out to grab her shoulders to stop her from falling. However, she reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him.
“What are you –,”
“We need to leave, Mandalorian,” she ordered, pulling him back into the stall and towards the back exit.
Mando tried to argue with her, but she wasn’t running from him –she was running with him as she hurried out the back. If she hadn’t grabbed his hand and forced him with her, he would have chased her regardless –but as if she feared for his safety, she brought him with her. Mando grabbed the edge of Grogu’s bassinet, pulling it behind him so it would keep up.
She glanced over her shoulder occasionally, then finally pulled him into an empty alleyway. The buildings casted shadows that obscured them for the most part, but if one looked close enough, they would be able to make out his armor.
Back against the wall of the building, she pulled him against her as if trying to use him to shield her from view. Under the helmet, Mando’s brow furrowed as she ducked into his side –as if trying to make herself smaller than she already was. They were too close, too pressed together for him to move without brushing against her. And…he wanted to. But that meant he shouldn’t.
After several minutes, two droids with Senex markings passed by the alley, though they did not stop if they noticed the three hiding there.
When they were out of sight, Mando tapped her shoulder gently, as if to say the coast was clear. She pushed off the wall, away from his side, and peered around the corner. Relief flooded her features.
“It seems you’re not the only one who was looking for me,” she murmured, returning to her spot against the wall as she looked up at him. “If you want your credits –or your life, for that matter –then you want to avoid those two.”
“I avoid droids as it is,” he offered as a response, though he didn’t question her warning.
“Maker, they work fast,” she mumbled, stepping back into the fading daylight of Nevarro. “I think, if you’re going to deliver me alive, Mandalorian, we should be leaving.”
He wanted to correct her; tell her to simply call him Mando. It felt less formal, less like someone commanding him. But more so —he wanted her to call him Din. By his name. He knew better; it was a wanton desire. One that was just exasperated by how close they had been mere moments earlier.
Instead, he simply gave a nod and motioned for her to follow him.
*****
“No sign of the princess or the Mandalorian,” the B32-C droid reported back through the communicator.
In the sitting room of the house of the Senex senator, Calista hissed in annoyance, slamming her hand down on her table. “I do not want to pay that fool hunter thirty-five thousand credits —you were supposed to get to her before the guild picked up the bounty.”
“We were close, Lady Calista,” B33-C chimed in. “We will locate both and terminate the Mandalorian before the end of the week.”
“You better. If I have to do it myself, I will.”
The comms went silent, and Calista stood from her seat. Her hands clasped behind her back as she looked over the monitors with a deep frown.
“Wherever you are, child —I will find you. You cannot run from me forever.”
———
Taglist: OPEN
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yukimiyaz · 1 year
Text
Aki doesn’t necessarily crave change.
In all honesty, he quite likes things being the way that they are. Having a—somewhat, most of the time—normal routine he can follow. Clock in and clock out and pick up takeout from that one restaurant on the corner on his way home. Make sure Power and Denji don’t try to steal the ramen shop’s cat as they pass by. It’s relatively nice, he thinks. Having a day to day.
But now he’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror and he just.. wonders.
“Power knocked Denji through the bedroom wall again. So we gotta fix it, again,” you sigh as you come in and lean your head on his shoulder. “And Meowy’s stuck on the fridge and won’t come down, so I might need your help with that.”
Aki hums, nods. He figures he can stop by the hardware store to buy more drywall tomorrow after work. And he doesn’t mind to come rescue the cat off the top of the fridge. But he doesn’t move, just tips his head at himself in the mirror.
He's been told many times that it wouldn’t kill him to loosen up, but he doesn’t think he’s all that stoic. Yes, he agrees he is blunt, but he is still soft for those he cares about, no? Is that not enough? Shouldn’t it be?
“Do you think I'm too uptight?”
The question comes out low, like he didn’t mean to even say it out loud, and you catch his gaze in the mirror. No, he decides, it is not enough that he thinks that way. He needs to make sure someone else does, too.
He needs to make sure you do.
“That depends, are we talking on bill day, or?” You’re joking with him, and normally he likes that. but now he just shifts his eyes off you in the mirror back to his own face. You frown, tug at his shirt sleeve until he looks down at you fully. “No. I think you’re curt and honest and take things seriously, but not in a bad way. You’re not like that deep down because you care. Why are you even asking that?”
He blinks at you. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t particularly want to answer that question because now as he thinks about the reasoning behind what’s got him thinking this way it just seems silly. And what if you laugh at him, heaven forbid?
But he finds it hard to not be honest with you. It's like you’ve signed a contract with an honesty devil, because you somehow always make him sing like a bird regardless of whether he wants to or not. And right now is no different.
“A colleague at work said that I was more uptight than my topknot.” He cuts his eyes from you, because it sounds even more minute coming out of his mouth. “So, I just thought..”
“What?” And your hands are on him, now. running up his chest and smoothing over his shoulders in the way you know soothes him after long and tiring days. He sighs into your touch, remembers his walls do not have to be up here, and lets you in.
“I think I'd like to cut my hair.”
He takes the next few moments to study you, gauge your reaction. there’s the tiniest twitch of your eyebrow, smallest intake of breath, little tilt of your lips. but nothing too expressive, too.. judgmental.
It's times like this that he remembers why he fell in love with you. Because even if he is not entirely conventional, you treat him as if he is anyways.
“Okay,” you say, light and easy and make a show of faux rolling your eyes. “Even though you’ve never gotten more than a trim in the numerous years we’ve been together. I guess it’s time for a change.”
And he doesn’t even need to say anything else before you’re leaning over to retrieve the hair scissors and clippers from the bottom drawer of the kitchen cabinet. Then you’re straightening back up and tapping your finger to your chin.
“Hmm, let’s see. What’re we thinking?” He’s about to answer you when you reach forward and grab his jaw, theatrically tipping his head this way and that as you hum. “A mohawk? buzz cut? Shaved heads are very in style now, you know. I think you could rock it.”
Aki narrows his eyes at that, loosely grabs the wrist you have held up to his face. 
“Very funny,” he gripes, but there’s no real venom in it because the smile on your face dilutes everything that comes out of his mouth. “I don't think I signed up for sarcasm with my haircut.”
You put your free hand on his shoulder and push him down onto the toilet seat before he can stop you. And he gulps just a bit, feels his stomach twist like it does when he sees you cooking breakfast in his shirt. You pat his cheek and he can’t stop himself from trying to chase after the warmth of your palm as you pull your hand away and start to reach for a comb.
“No, but you signed up for it when you got me, so.” You turn back to him and slide the comb through his hair as you step between his legs. “I'd say that it should’ve been a given.”
And that’s true and it is, but sometimes he just likes to pick. That's something that may feed into his apparently uptight reputation or break it down, he doesn’t know, but he never picks quite as much with anyone but you. You bring out the best of him, he’d argue. The parts of him that he thinks are far too soft and fragile for him to walk out into the world without shielding in armor. You ease him, and he likes that. You make him think change doesn’t have to be so bad.
“But seriously,” you hum, sliding your fingers through his hair, twisting the ends lazily. “What are you wanting?”
As he looks up at you from his spot on the toilet seat, he finds his mind slightly drifting from the matter at hand. You look nice today. You’re wearing his cologne, he detects. There’s a flake of something in your hair that he suspects to be from Power and Denji breaking the wall. You seem to handle everything so effortlessly, even though he knows that isn’t quite true. And he realizes something.
“Surprise me,” Aki says, and feels his lips twitch at the way your face lights up. 
You make quick work of it. Like you’ve thought about this before. Mapped out a route of change for him prior to him even asking. He wonders what else you’ve thought about changing in life.
Maybe he should bring up changing the paint on your bedroom walls. Maybe he should ask if you’d like a different brand of spices at the store. Maybe he should inquire about your thoughts on getting another cat. Maybe he should see what you think of replacing the worn out sofa with something better.
He sits on the toilet seat and watches you focus. Smiles at the way you bite your lip in concentration and tilting and turning his head when you tell him to. His hands have politely made their way to the backs of your thighs, mindlessly playing with the hem of your shorts as you ask him about his day and tell him of your own. His cheeks heat up when you catch his eye and smile at him, and his fingers tighten on your legs when you lean down to give him a peck every now and then.
And with each wisp of hair that falls from the scissors and each buzz of the clippers by his ear he finds himself leaning into change easier and easier until you’re taking a step back and admiring what you’ve stripped from him.
“You’re scaring me,” Aki chuckles under his breath as he takes in the look you’re giving him. You’re chewing the inside of your cheek, holding out a hand to him as you bounce on the balls of your feet.
He takes it, as he always does and always will, and lets you drag him back in front of the mirror and turn him until he’s looking at himself. And the breath leaves him all at once.
You've clipped the sides, faded it out and shortened his hair all around and given him layers of some sort. He cuts his eyes to your excited face in the mirror for a split second and wonders if you secretly went to some barber school he isn’t aware of. It’s just so.. nice. It fits him; suits him. His face looks like him, and he knows that should be obvious but it’s different than before. It’s…
“What do you think?” you ask, and you’re half wrapped around his arm now as you blink up at him. “Do you like it? You said surprise you but that’s so nerve wracking so I really just tried to do something that would be more manageable and—“
Aki turns to kiss you so fast that if you didn’t have a grip on his arm already then you might’ve just fallen backwards onto the bathroom tile.
“It's perfect. I love it,” he breathes as he pulls back, looks back into the mirror for a split second before pressing another peck to your lips, “I love you. Thank you.”
And you’re beaming, now. Painting that smug look on your face that you get when you’re cocky as you wrap your arms around his neck. He loves it, adores it. He kisses you one more time before you turn your face from him with a giggle.
“Psh, knew you would. I'm perfect at everything you know. I should charge you, actually. Send you a bill.”
He’s about to jibe back with you—maybe ask if he could repay the favor by making dessert and doing the dishes tonight—but there’s a yell of your name from a few rooms over that sounds suspiciously like Denji’s cry for help when power is fighting with him that drags you away. You peck his lips and grin at him before you scurry your way out of the bathroom and to whatever sort of commotion is going on now.
Aki turns himself back to the bathroom mirror, studies the man staring back at him. He slides a hand back through his freshly cut hair, lets the new buzz tickle his fingertips. His own touch isn’t as delicate as yours, doesn’t welcome the change as gracefully as you do. He turns from the mirror and scuffs his feet across the tile to follow you to the debacle that you’ve been called to split up. And as he watches you soothe an overly dramatic Denji and calm down a riled up power, he thinks.
No, Aki doesn’t suppose that he necessarily craves change, but he finds that he doesn’t quite mind it. And as he stares at the hand you have patting Denji’s head while you flash him an exasperated grin, some of his loose hairs stuck to your shirt, he figures there’s one more change he’s more than ready to make.
Maybe he should start picking out a ring.
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byersbootyshorts · 1 year
Text
Sweet Sorrow (S.R.)
Emily’s death effected the whole team, but it hit Spencer the hardest. And when he’s at his lowest, it’s you he comes running to.
MENTIONS OF DRUGS AND ADDICTION!!
Word Count: 1,878
Warnings: s6!Spencer, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of Emily’s ‘death’, Spencer crying, mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction, language
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well this turned out deeper than I expected
It was 11pm when you heard your doorbell ring. It was awfully late for someone to be at your door, you thought, but you hadn’t planned on sleeping anytime soon anyway, so you decided to answer it. You got up off your couch and as you were walking to the door your doorbell rang again, followed by insistent knocking.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” you shouted, annoyed at this person’s impatience.
You rolled your eyes as you reached the door, suddenly not in the mood for visitors anymore. But your mood shifted when you looked through the peephole and discovered who was outside your apartment.
“Oh my God, Spence,” you said, unlocking your door as fast as your fingers would allow. You flung the door open and took in the image in front of you. Spencer was standing in your doorway, his eyes red and puffy from crying. His whole body was vibrating under his large coat.
“Can I come in,” he mumbled after you’d been staring at him in shock for a bit too long.
“Yes, of course, sorry.” You quickly moved aside, allowing Spencer to enter your home. He slowly shuffled in, not daring to look up from the ground. You shut the door and walked over to comfort him by taking his hand in yours.
“Spencer, what’s wrong,” you asked, although your question was futile. You knew exactly what was wrong.
Ever since Emily’s passing none of the team had been the same. But Spencer was hit the hardest with grief. It wasn’t necessarily because they were the closest or because he missed her the most. Stuff like this just effected Spencer. You hated admitting it to yourself but you’d almost grown numb to the grief your job as an FBI profiler gave you. Obviously, Emily’s death broke you, but it had been weeks and you’d had to force yourself to get over it and move on.
Spencer wasn’t like that, though. He couldn’t just let the pain slide off his back. You’d noticed it at work. He’d been distracted and wasn’t his usual genius self. But you didn’t know how bad it was until he was standing in the middle of your apartment, trembling with misery.
“I just-,” he began, but he couldn’t continue. He started to sob, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry,” he choked.
“Hey, it’s ok,” you said, pulling him tight to your chest in a hug. You shushed him, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to comfort him.
You stood there for a while, just holding him as he wept into your shoulder.
After a few minutes his breathing became slower and he calmed down. He pulled away from you and slumped down on your couch.
“I just miss her,” he mumbled.
“I know,” you replied, sitting down beside him and placing a consoling hand on his knee. “We all do.”
“Well then why am I the only one still crying about it every night,” he said, fiddling with the corner of one of your cushions.
“Ok, first of all, I’m sure you’re not the only one still crying over her. Have you met Penelope Garcia?” you asked sarcastically. He let out a hesitant chuckle.
“And secondly, who cares if you’re still crying about it? I’m glad you are,” you revealed.
“What do you mean?” Spencer looked up at you with a confused expression.
“I mean, I’m glad you still have the humanity to be upset about this. I’m glad your letting your feelings out rather than bottling them inside you.”
“Please stop acting like a shrink,” Spencer complained.
“I’m not,” you retorted. “Ok, maybe I am. But I’m serious. I’d rather you come here every night and cry to me than stay alone in your apartment and hold all your sadness inside you.”
You couldn’t tell what had set Spencer off again but something caused his eyes to begin to water once more.
“Oh, Spence,” you said lovingly as he nuzzled into your chest. His tears began to soak through your hoodie but you didn’t care. He cried for another few minutes. You couldn’t do anything except wrap your arms around him and whisper to him that everything would be ok eventually. The agonizing sounds of his sobs were enough to bring you to tears, but you resisted. You had to be strong, for Spencer’s sake.
“Hey, why don’t we get this coat off you,” you said, noticing his red face. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
You began pulling on his sleeves, but he grabbed your hand.
“No,” he said authoritatively.
You raised your eyebrow, confused as to why he was so defensive over a coat.
“Ok, ok,” you said, taking your hands off him. “If you insist.”
From the minute you mentioned his coat something about Spencer’s demeanour changed. It was as if his sadness turned to anger.
“This is so fucking stupid,” he snapped, leaping up from the couch in rage. “Why can’t I just get over it, huh?”
“You will,” you said, trying to make your voice remain as comforting as you could. “You just need more time.”
“Oh yeah, how much more time?” he shouted. “Because, to be honest, I’m pretty fucking tired of this.”
He ran his hands through his hair. You didn’t know what to do. You knew how to comfort Spencer when he was sad but you’d never seen him this angry before.
“How come everyone has been able to move on with their lives except me?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Spencer,” you answered honestly. “You’re just more sensitive than everyone else.”
“Sensitive?” he yelled, his voice increasing in pitch the more he shouted. “No, I’m not sensitive, I’m weak. I’m just weak.”
You stepped closer to him and placed your hand on his arm.
“No, Spence, you’re not weak. You’re just a normal human being who’s experiencing grief because your friend just died. You’re normal, Spence, not weak.”
“Well, if I’m not weak then explain to me why I bought this before I came over here?” Spencer said, his voice cracking as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle.
And suddenly everything made sense. The reason he didn’t want you taking his coat. The reason he was so angry. Hidden in his pocket was a bottle of the drug that he had worked so hard to recover from, and he was craving a fix.
You inhaled sharply in shock, but you couldn’t get a word in before Spencer started rambling.
“I tried for so long to resist the urge,” he explained, his voice still raised higher than necessary. “I told myself I couldn’t go through that again. But as time went on and I still wasn’t over it, it got harder and harder.”
You stared at the bottle and needle in Spencer’s shaking hand and tried to interrupt him.
“Spencer have you-,” you attempted, but he interjected.
“So, you see, I am weak, because I bet none of you the rest of you needed drugs to get over your grief.”
“Spencer!” you shouted, finally grabbing his attention. He looked down at your concerned face.
“Spencer, have you taken any?” you asked quietly.
“No,” he murmured.
You sighed in relief and you saw the anger dissipate from Spencer’s eyes. But that anger was only replaced by more sadness.
“I thought about it. That’s why I bought it. But as soon as I did I realised I needed help and you were the first person I thought of. That’s how I ended up here.”
“And I’m really happy you came,” you said, holding out your hand. “Now, I want you to give me the bottle and the needle, Spencer.”
He hesitated, pulling his hand away from you. You looked up at him expectantly.
“Please give them to me, Spencer.”
You could see the pain in his eyes as he decided to place the Dilaudid in your hand.
“Thank you,” he said, relieved that you had taken away his weakness. But there was also a part of him that wanted to grab the drugs from you and run out the door. He stayed put though, watching as you poured the drug down the sink and threw the needle in the trash.
“There you go,” you said, returning to him and pulling him close to you. “It’s gone now.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, melting into your embrace.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said, pulling his head down and leaning your forehead against his. He sniffed and you wiped a tear from his cheek.
“Do you need to go to a meeting,” you asked.
“I’d rather just stay here,” Spencer whispered.
You smiled at him sympathetically and led him back over to the couch. He sat down beside you and rested his head on your shoulder. You turned your face and planted a kiss in his hair.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you mumbled into his hair.
Spencer sighed heavily before answering.
“I get these cravings all the time, you know. But recently they’ve gotten worse, and today I just couldn’t bear it anymore.”
“That’s understandable,” you reassure him. “With everything that’s happened lately you’re allowed to struggle. And I’m so glad you came to me instead of using. That just shows you how much you’ve recovered.”
“Yeah, but I still want it,” Spencer sighed, covering his face with his hands.
“That craving’s always going to be there,” you told him. “You just need to find a way to satisfy it with other things.”
You swiftly rose from the couch and headed towards your kitchen. Spencer’s eyes followed you with curiosity. You opened the fridge and lifted out a white box.
“Why don’t we try this?” you smiled, sitting back down on the couch and opening the box.
Spencer laughed when he saw what was inside. Chocolate sprinkle donuts.
“These are my favourite,” he chuckled.
“I know,” you replied. “And I know these can’t even begin to fulfil your cravings, but maybe they can distract you for a little while.”
“It’s perfect,” he said, biting into one of the chocolate covered treats. “You know, Emily used to buy these for me all the time. She said she was trying to put some meat on my bones.”
Spencer smiled, a genuine smile. Your heart melted at the sight.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve smiled when someone’s mentioned Emily since she died,” you pointed out, your eyes tearing up at his happiness.
“I think you’re right,” Spencer said, taking another bite. “I think I’ve been focussing on the sad memories for too long. I need to think of her as the funny, smart, amazing agent that she was, not some cold body in a coffin.”
“That’s more like it,” you beamed. “That’s the Spencer Reid I know.”
You knew Spencer still wasn’t completely over his grief. But at least in that moment he was happy. The journey to recovery wasn’t over. He’d still have the urge to start using again. He’d still spend nights crying himself to sleep. He’d still have bad days. But at least there were times like these when all those negative feelings seemed to go away. And at least you were there with him, making everything just a little bit sweeter.
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mypimpademia · 10 months
Text
— sssssoooo anxiousssss
Bakugo x black!reader
TW: Swearing, slightly suggestive
Note: this was originally supposed to have 2 other characters… but bakugos got way too long😭 might make another version with them anyways tho. Enjoyyy🫶🏾
— BAKUGO.
⇶ Katsuki doesn’t consider himself as someone who becomes nervous easily
⇶ Aside from his constant angry outbursts and screaming, he’s pretty well put together
⇶ That’s essentially the case for everyone and everything outside of you
⇶ When he first met you, everything about you made him uncharacteristically nervous
⇶ He couldn’t keep eye contact, couldn’t speak to you, couldn’t handle the way you smiled at him, etc.
⇶ Eventually, he overcame nearly all of the anxiety you made him feel, especially when you started dating
⇶ But one thing that he will never get over, is any form of physical contact with you
⇶ It’s not that it necessarily makes him nervous, but any sort of physicality with you does things to him that he can’t explain
⇶ He’s already got a soft spot for you, everyone knows that
⇶ From the way he nearly melts when you flash a smile at him and say his name, to the way he’ll be yelling at someone one second and calling you his angel the next
⇶ But your touch genuinely makes him weak
⇶ Physical touch is his predominant love language as is, but you take it to new heights
⇶ Can never just have one kiss from you, he needs more than that
⇶ A simple kiss on the cheek makes him lose his mind, he can’t help but ask for a real kiss
⇶ And another after that, and after that, and that one too… until he’s full on making out with you
⇶ Unless you’re around family, time and place simply doesn’t exist to him
⇶ Katsuki will smother you in affection no matter how many people you’re around, and doesn’t care if anyone thinks it’s a gross amount of pda
⇶ Katsuki absolutely craves you, and wouldn’t last a day without being able to feel you in some way
⇶ On rougher days, or when he’s just not feeling good, all he wants is to be a tangled mess of limbs with you in somewhere warm and comfy
⇶ And Katsuki is by no means a begger, but if it comes down to it, he will beg for you to just kiss him, even once
“Baby, you’ve been working on that stupid fucking essay since I got home, take a break. Come ‘n’ lie down with me,” Katsuki groaned, lightly tugging your arm in a childlike manner.
Katsuki’s been complaining about wanting you to lay down with him for the past 2 hours, and says he can’t go relax without you. He’s doing everything in his power to try and get your attention off your school work and on him.
Kissing you, feeling up your sides and legs, running his fingers through your braids, and more that you couldn’t be bothered to remember at the moment. You brushed him off every time, with a simple ‘not now’ or ‘just wait’. He’d be lying if he said his feelings weren’t at least a little hurt.
“Katsu, this is my final for this class, and it’s due tomorrow afternoon and I’m just starting. I can’t just take a “break” with you just because you’re bein’ all whiny,” You told him, a tinge of irritation slipping through your words as you tried to stay calm with him.
You knew that even if he did make it seem like it was about him, it was in your best interest as well. He hates to see you overwork yourself, and as tempting as cuddling up with your boyfriend to recharge sounded, you couldn’t afford that right now.
“I don’t understand why you can’t just lay down without me,” You said for what felt like the millionth time, making Katsuki kiss his teeth in response.
“First of all, I am not bein’ whiny,” He argued. “Second, you need a break anyways, so I don’t understand why you can’t lay down with me.”
You side eyed him, and he stared right back. You rolled your eyes at him, turning your attention back to your essay.
Katsuki let out a long, dramatic, groan as he buried his face into your neck, blond locks tickling your jaw and cheek. Then suddenly, he had an idea.
“Look, you only have like three pages left of your essay,” He started. “If you come lay down with me, I’ll finish ‘em for you.”
His proposal was convincing, and did pique your interest enough for you to stop typing.
“… Really?” You asked him, making him pull his face out of your neck.
“Mmhm,” He answered, a smug grin forming on his face.
He knows he won.
You kissed your teeth as you glanced at your essay document.
“Fine.”
Katsuki just has to get what he wants.
⇶ He simply won’t take no for an answer when it comes to getting affection from you
⇶ And if he tells you it’s just a real quick kiss, or you’ll only cuddle for a few minutes, don’t believe him
⇶ He’s got an addiction for you and once he starts, he won’t stop
⇶ But he’s such a sweet talker, you fall for it everytime
⇶ Not that you’re complaining… you’d be a complete liar if you said you didn’t love it just as much as he does
⇶ And he handles you so well, you never even know why you were opposing him to begin with
⇶ Calls you pretty, gorgeous, “a fuckin’ angel”, whispers sweet nothings in your ear, runs his hand through whatever protective style you have, or just gets his fingers tangled up in your curls
⇶ Kisses you breathless, and when you pull away for air he just moves to kiss around your face, then moves down to your neck and chest, feeling your skin grow warm
⇶ Katsuki is rough by nature, and that translates into his kisses in the best way possible
⇶ Presses his lips to your skin in a slightly harsh way, and truthfully, he’s just as out of breath as you are, turning pink and panting everytime he pulls back, then going back to leaving open mouth kisses, making your brown skin glimmer as he leaves behind a light film of saliva
⇶ It’s sort of gross to really think about, but it feels so good in the moment that you don’t even care
⇶ Please return the favor, he’ll absolutely melt in your hands
⇶ Don’t worry about getting lip gloss marks on him either, he wears them proudly
⇶ If you straddle his lap to kiss him and put your hands on his shoulders, you’ll be able to feel him shaking
⇶ Plant kisses all over his face while you compliment him, he’ll be so nervous that he won’t even be able to look at you
⇶ Katsuki just loves you so much, he doesn’t know what to do when you’re all over him like this
⇶ And if he does manage to look at you, you’ll feel like he’s staring into your soul, and he’ll take in all your features before telling you he loves you
⇶ It’s too much, but he can’t get enough of you
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wordsinhaled · 2 years
Text
because i had to watch the 1389 scene over and over again yesterday i’m now totally convinced we haven’t talked about it enough in comparison to the 1789 and 1889 scenes (understandably because those scenes are gold) so... i’m gonna ramble now i guess! pardon any incoherence lmao
just... my sleep-deprived brain is losing it because hob is simply there talking shit with his mates at the pub, just running his mouth, but you can see the resolve in his eyes, the determination to his features, when he says “i’m not going to die,” and you can already tell that hob is set apart from any other person. i always describe hob in terms of his hubris but it isn’t that he’s prideful necessarily, to me; more that he doesn’t bother to ever think anything he says isn’t possible—it doesn’t even occur to him that what he’s saying won’t come to pass
i feel like one of the reasons hob is such a good match for dream is that even before he’s functionally immortal, hob comes across like he already operates on this level that’s beyond merely human in how he sees things—his expansive love for life, the scope of possibility, the idea that mortality is optional to begin with. hob is such a fucking regular person but he also has this, like... vaguely homeric quality to him? i can’t put my finger on it but i can just picture hob rowing odysseus’ ship to troy, you know? and i think that’s what i’m getting at. i’m not surprised at all that he would be of interest to dream
and like, we always talk about how dream is a complete mystery to hob for centuries and how dream must fascinate him and occupy his thoughts. it’s easy to see why dream would capture hob’s attention, but it’s equally interesting to me to think about why hob captures dream’s focus for centuries as well. why keep coming back to this man? why, when hob is just doing the gritty everyday work of living that dream derides and thinks himself so far above?
i imagine this is the thing about hob that fascinates dream, who is prideful to the point of it being a tragic flaw; who is a king, a lord, and isn’t typically met with this kind of dogged obstinacy, who doesn’t expect a challenge. even though he presides over all dreamers he doesn’t expect someone not of the endless to dream like this. to push the boundaries and laws of the universe like this. and how is it that hob, given this gift, then asks nothing for himself except to have an abundance of mundane experiences, when other men have been demanding and unimaginably cruel and tried to break and bend dream of the endless to their will? how can hob ask nothing more of him than presence, than friendship? than dream’s regard?
god, this post is getting away from me. anyway, back to the 1389 scene—the moment dream says hob’s name, “let us meet here, robert gadling...” there’s this minute shift in hob’s expression, in the attention he gives dream. he was already looking at him with interest (in other news, i’m convinced hob would’ve already happily gone home with dream that very day in 1389 and i will stand my ground on that...)—like, here’s this ethereal-looking stranger, in a lord’s clothes, big fuck-off jewel round his neck and eyes like the stormy sea, looking at him, at hob? why? hob doesn’t know but he’s into it!
but then the stranger knows his name, and you can see in his eyes the second he realizes this is serious, this is real. this is something hob sticks on and asks dream about for centuries—how did the stranger know his name? how did he know johanna? and lushing lou? thinking about this from hob’s perspective, living in 1389, he’s probably thinking that names are words of power in this world. and dream knows hob’s name, and you can see in his eyes, in his expression, that he’s disturbed, but hob meets that fact with trepidation but also with curiosity. and he doesn’t take his eyes off dream, who is suddenly more on his level than anyone else in this pub, who dignifies his wish to live forever, who operates on hob’s scale of time. tells dream, “don’t mind them,” like, these other mortals don’t share our understanding
like... i’m just in awe of the depth conveyed in this scene, i feel like there’s more to find in hob’s character every day and that’s all thanks to ferdinand’s acting
and as dream leaves the tavern, hob has this dawning look of deep thought on his face, like he’s realizing what he just agreed to, as if all his aches and pains, all the little fourteenth-century ills that could have led to his untimely death are falling away from him already
this is TOO MUCH for my poor tired heart!!!
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veronicaphoenix · 2 months
Text
THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR — PART V
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Pairing: samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words: 5.4k | Cross-posted on AO3. 
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"I always had to go to bed thinking that I might never be able to make you my wife because of our different social status. Trust me, the moment I get to put a ring on your finger, I will.” 
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THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR 
PART V
A finger traced the contours of my jaw tenderly. 
I blinked, adjusting to the shadows, and lifted my gaze to meet Noah’s, finding comfort and warm in the soft curve of his smile. He was propped on an elbow, staring down at me. 
For a while, I thanked the darkness for enveloping us in a blanket that shielded us from the realities waiting beyond the walls of the room. 
Despite the tranquility and safety of being tucked against his chest, my legs tangled with his under the sheets, Noah’s quiet words pierced through the serenity I wanted to desperately cling to.
“It’s time.”
As much as I wished to stay in that moment, in his embrace, soaking in the slow morning with the one I loved, I acknowledged our necessities. I hummed, relishing in his touch, cuddling closer to him. Time was running against us, and despite how much that instant felt like freedom, it wasn’t. 
We wouldn’t be free until we were far away. 
In silence, we slipped out from beneath the soft sheets, the fabric whispering against our skin as we prepared to face the day ahead. 
Right outside the bedroom door, I found a pile of neatly folded clothes. With a furrowed brow, I looked towards the end of the corridor where my grandmother’s room was. No sign of her being awake, and yet, I knew that she had been the one to get those clothes for us. I didn’t know how she had managed to prepare the outfits, but I appreciated it, nevertheless.
Noah and I got dressed in silence. I tied my hair in a ponytail and stared at myself in the mirror, my features softened by the dim light in the room, until Noah’s presence behind me came to offer some comfort, his lips finding a spot on my shoulder and kissing it softly. When his lips were replaced by his hand, he massaged my shoulder for a few seconds before asking if I was ready. 
I was as ready as someone in my shoes could be. 
With no destination in sight, we had decided to abandon the safety of my grandmother’s little house at dawn, right before the sun came up. We didn’t know where we would head to; we just knew that we would keep moving until our feet and legs gave up. 
We descended the stairs in silence, each step a reminder of the weight of our circumstances and that I might never get to set foot in this house again, this place where I had spent so much time of my childhood, running from one room to another, laughing, listening to my grandmother’s bedtime stories, and then, falling in love over and over again every time Noah and I met clandestinely in that room, where he made love to me so many times after I waited for hours by the window, looking at the dark sky and the stars adorning it. 
Every inhale was deep and slow. The only reassurance Noah’s figure in front of me. With the light from the only lamp on in the entrance of the house, I caught into his tall, slender figure. His stance never failed. Yet, I felt that I was losing energy by the minute, thinking about the obstacles that still lay ahead. I envied Noah’s demeanor, the way he managed to keep his emotions in check and push his body to its limits without necessarily having to face the same struggles my body did. 
It didn’t matter if he had been stripped of the title. He was still a Samurai, and he would always be my Samurai. 
A sudden figure materialized in the dimness, in the hallway that led to the kitchen, and I contained a scream, stumbling with my back against Noah’s chest. 
Grandma stood before us, a diminutive figure bathed in the faint light. 
“You should eat something before you depart,” she said, her voice gently reminding us of the practicalities that might elude us once we were out of the shelter of her house. 
With her arm extended, she pointed towards the tearoom. 
We found out she had prepared a modest breakfast —if you could call it that, given the time. We silently accepted it and devoured as much as we could with the tranquility not typical of two lovers who are on the run, being hunted for something that shouldn’t be a crime. 
As I swallowed the last morsel of bread, I glanced up to find my grandmother watching us with a mixture of concern and affection from the threshold, her hands clasped before her. 
Noah’s brown gaze met mine from across the table, his expression guarded yet filled with a quiet determination. He was seizing me from the other side of the small wooden table, his short strands of hair falling over his eyes. He had a cautious look on his face, as if he was troubled about our next steps. He definitely was, how could he not? 
He had been eating slower than me. When there were a few bites left on his bowl, he nudged it towards me. I hesitated, rising an eyebrow, a flicker of protest rising within me.  
“Eat,” he urged. 
“But, what about you?”
“You need it more.”
I was about to complain, his concern bothering me a little, but the most rational part of me realized he had a point. He was a Samurai —a Ronin now— and he had fought in battles before, starving for days and going without water. His concern was obvious. I was smaller and less trained to resist what we would have to endure. He just wanted to make sure I was okay. It was the same reason why he had checked my feet in the room before putting on my socks, making sure I didn’t have any blisters or pain that would make it hard for me to walk. I was fine. Just feeling a bit groggy yet due to the lack of sleep and the cold that swept through my bones last night, but regardless, I was doing fine and I was sure I could manage. For him, I would manage. Whatever trials lay ahead, we would weather them as long as we stood together.
Moments later, we were back in the entrance of the house. Our boots were still damp when we wore them again, but we would have to do with it. Noah tied his katana at his side, securing it tightly. 
Without uttering a word, Grandma handed Noah a backpack. She indicated that she had stored some food and water inside. We both nodded in gratefulness. Then, she took one more step forward to us. 
There was something in her old eyes. 
“There is a place for you,” she said, her eyes moving from me to Noah. “It’s a sacred place, but I trust that you will find it. You will be welcomed there.”
I looked at Noah in confusion. He had the same expression on his face. 
In the night and under the dim lights of the little cozy house where she resided, my grandmother looked older and wiser than I had ever seen her. With a drop of her shoulders, she proceeded to tell us about a place that not many people knew about: a secluded village in the mountains, hidden in a valley, nearly a two-day walk from where we were. It was a place where we would be safe to let our love run freely without being hunted for the crimes inscribed in the Code. The place had no name, as it remained a location for those seeking only freedom for their true feelings. Grandma knew about it because her own grandmother had told her, but neither of them had chosen to escape there, being too scared and too tied to the royal family they belonged to.
That dawn, I got to know that grandma had liked a boy from a lower class during her teenage years. She had dreamed of a life with him, perhaps allowing herself to fall in love with him, but she hadn’t been as brave as I was. She didn’t want me to suffer her same fate, so she trusted that Noah and I would make it there, that we would find our way through the towns we would have to cross and the perils we would encounter in the forest.
“When you cross the mountains of Sumire, find the oak forest. Then, follow the river upstream. It will take you to a dead end. On the right, there should be a single red rhododendron plant. Wait there.”
I memorized the instructions in my head before nodding, aware that Noah was doing the same next to me as he adjusted the straps of the backpack on his shoulders. 
“I pray that you will find the happiness you’re seeking there, and that you will be able to build your family.”
When she said those words, her eyes navigating from Noah to me back and forth, I felt the tears prickling at my eyes. While I wanted to build a life with the man standing next to me, my grandmother was my family, too. She had always tried her best to raise me as a noble woman, capable of differentiating right from wrong without being self-righteous like my mother and father. This strong personality of mine was probably a result of her care throughout my childhood. On top of that, she had known about my feelings for Noah before I even myself did. She was a wise creature, filled with knowledge obtained from her painful experiences as a woman in a man’s world and being born in a royal family, expectations already upon her from the second she was born. 
She put a hand flat on Noah’s chest. He remained as still as always. I looked at both, my eyes brimmed with unshed tears. 
“You’re a good man, Noah. You have my blessings to take my granddaughter’s hand.”
I nearly choked. I could tell Noah’s heart skipped a beat, too, for his eyes widened at my grandmother’s words. 
We had never talked about marriage, but it was obvious, wasn’t it? 
“Protect each other.”
The sun would miss our sad farewell. I could see the glittering tears in my grandmother’s eyes, too, when she looked back at me. It comforted me to know she understood how much I loved Noah, and how much he loved me, and that despite all of it, how much I loved her, too. 
With an impulse, I hugged her, and I shed a tear or two. I contained my sobs. Her words, ‘my little girl’, spread through me like a symphony that would accompany me forever. 
“I have one more thing for you.”
As she spoke, a ripple of anticipation coursed through me, mingling with a sense of curiosity. What more could she possibly have to give me, I wondered, already feeling overwhelmed by the depth of her help and affection.
With a tender smile, Grandma gently withdrew from our embrace, her eyes sparkling with a mysterious determination. There was a fleeting glint of something indefinable in her gaze, as if she carried a secret burden.
She turned away from me, her silhouette momentarily swallowed by the shadows that danced upon the walls. 
Then, as swiftly as she had departed, she reappeared before us, her hands clasping something precious and ineffably sacred. 
She held a katana in her wrinkled hands. My breath caught in my throat as I beheld the weapon, its presence imbued with an otherworldly aura that whispered of forgotten legends and untold stories.
“This is…” Noah started saying. 
"This belonged to your grandfather," Grandma murmured to me, her voice trembling with emotion. "It was thought to be lost forever, but fate brought it back to me. And now, I am giving it to you.”
I reached out tentatively, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool metal of the katana. A surge of reverence washed over me, mingling with a profound sense of gratitude for something that I felt I didn’t deserve.
"This is a reminder of who you are and where you come from. Let it be a beacon of strength and courage in the face of adversity, just as it was for your grandfather. But use it to fight for what you love, not for what your greed wants."
As I held the katana close to my heart, its weight a tangible reminder of the legacy I carried within me, I felt a surge of determination coursing through my veins. Each inch of steel whispered stories of the past, imbued with the essence of resilience. My grandmother’s words echoed like a solemn oath in the corridors of my mind, a testament to the path I had chosen, despite the rules I had dared to challenge. 
Love is not a crime.
While I marveled at the weapon’s craftmanship, a question popped in my head, making me knit my brows. Before I could articulate my thoughts, my grandmother’s voice rose again. 
"I know that Noah has been training you for a while,” she said, her eyes searching mine with a depth of understanding. "He's taught you well, and I have every confidence that you know how to handle this katana with the same skill and grace that your grandfather did. You’re a warrior princess, after all.”
Her words dispelled the shadows of doubt that threatened to engulf me. 
I tightened my grip on the sword, feeling its power coursing through me like a current of pure energy. As I looked into my grandmother's eyes —a reflection of mine— I knew that I carried not only the legacy of my ancestors, but also the strength and wisdom of those who had come before me. And with their guidance and Noah by my side, I would face whatever challenges lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that I was never truly alone.
In another gesture of goodwill, as if she trusted that everything would be okay, she reached into the pocket of her apron, taking out a tiny daruma doll, its vivid red hues a vivid contrast against the subdued atmosphere of the room.Daruma dolls were a token of good luck. She extended it towards Noah, her expression a mixture of understanding and acceptance of his trials and choices. 
It filled my heart with warmth to know that she accepted our love.
Noah hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing his features before he nodded grateful towards her. Though his silence said enough, I sensed the weight of unspoken words lingering between them, a silent exchange of gratitude and respect that transcended the need for verbal communication.
He kept the little figurine in a side pocket of the backpack. 
As my grandmother turned her gaze back to me, her eyes held a depth of wisdom. With a final embrace, I bid farewell to her, feeling the weight of her love and guidance like a comforting cloak wrapped around my shoulders. As Noah and I stepped out, I carried with me not only the gifts she had blessed us with, but also the unspoken promise to honor our shared heritage and forge a path of our own making.
“May I see you again someday, grown into the beautiful and strong woman you are meant to be,” she said from the porch. 
I smiled. Then Noah’s fingers intertwined with mine, and under the ethereal glow still filling the town, we continued our journey. 
The winding streets stretched out before us, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets that whispered of the countless souls who had walked these paths before us.
With each step, I clung to Noah's arm, my heart pounding in my chest as we navigated the maze of cobblestone alleys and narrow passageways. My knowledge of the town was limited, gleaned from the few times I had accompanied my grandmother on her trips to the market. Now, those fleeting memories offered little comfort as we ventured into uncharted territory, our only compass the pulsing beat of our intertwined hearts.
As we left the town behind and ventured into the wilderness beyond, the first light of dawn began to paint the sky with hues of pink and gold. 
Three hours after leaving the village behind, exhaustion began to settle heavily upon me, and doubts crept in as I questioned my ability to keep pace with Noah and reach the secluded place my grandmother had told us about and that now wouldn’t leave my thoughts. 
Would we be able to find it? And if we did, would it be the place we hoped it would be? A corner where we could live freely, loving each other without fear? Could we build our life there?
Noah's hand tightened around mine, as if sensing my anxiety, his touch always a reassuring anchor in the sea of uncertainty that surrounded us. 
We made a short stop not long after, finding a place to sit beneath a tree, where we eagerly devoured the sandwiches my grandmother had packed for us. If it hadn’t been for it, I wondered how we might have managed to afford any food along the way. 
When Noah asked me how I was coping, I nodded, reassuring him with a faint smile. My princess’ looks where long gone. I was sure if I could see myself in a mirror, I would hardly recognize the young woman standing in front of it. After all, I was no longer the person I had been two days before. 
Taking another piece of bread between my fingers, I placed it in my mouth; a small bite to enjoy the food for longer. 
“Hey,” he took my chin in his fingers, tilting my face towards him. 
His forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat and some strands of brown hair were stuck to it. I dreaded for the moment we would find a place to call home and we could enjoy another bath together. I wanted to wash his hair and run my hands down the lines of his face. He was tired, I could tell, even if he refused to admit it. 
With a tender gesture, he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch gentle yet filled with an unspoken promise of devotion and protection. 
How lucky I was, despite everything. 
"We'll find a safe place to rest after we walk a bit more,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that calmed the storm raging within me. “We’re headed in the right direction.”
Perhaps his words were as much for his own reassurance as they were for mine. Regardless, I accepted them. His perseverance was contagious, and with tired and bleeding feet or not, I would always walk beside him. 
I finished my food and drank some water, assessing our supplies and contemplating the necessity for rationing during our two-day trek. Standing up I brushed the dirt from my black leggings and secured my ponytail before fastening my grandfather’s katana at my waist. Noah had been admiring it in his hands after he completed his food and expressed his contentment at the fact that such legendary weapon had been placed in my hands. 
“Are your feet holding up?” Noah asked, his concern evident as he glanced back at me.  
“They’re fine,” I lied. “No need to worry. I can manage.”
I did feel a certain discomfort that was accentuated by the dampness of my boots, but it wasn’t anything to stress too much about. I had hopes that once we reached the place we were headed to, I could tend to them. 
As the day wore on, fatigue gradually tightened its grips, our weary bodies protesting with each new step. I heard Noah sighing a few times, specially at those moments when we stopped to look around and make sure we were moving in the right direction. Glancing upwards, I tracked the sun’s descent, mindful of our path ahead. It would set soon, and we had yet to climb a steep hill. 
 Yet, despite the physical strain, I was sure that the bond that united me and Noah only grew stronger with each of our steps, fueled by the shared determination to carve out a future together against all odds, having defied death the morning before and having escaped my parents’ kingdom unharmed. Sometimes we walked hand in hand, while at other times, we walked apart. Conversations ebbed and flowed, interspersed with Noah’s occasional lighthearted jokes to make me laugh and relieve my mind from the stress we were both carrying. In those moments when his smile broke through, a sense of reassurance flooded me, whispering that everything would be okay eventually.  
With the setting sun casting a golden glow upon the landscape, we stumbled upon a tranquil clearing nestled amidst the trees after staggering up the hill for twenty exhausting minutes, the soft murmur of a nearby stream providing a soothing backdrop to our exhaustion. I wasn’t sure how we would make it the rest of the way the next day, but all I could think about was laying down and giving my body a rest.
"Look," I whispered to Noah, a sense of urgency guiding my finger as I pointed towards a weathered cottage nestled amidst the dense foliage to our left. Its timeworn structure stood as a solitary sentinel amidst the wilderness, a refuge amidst nature. Its wooden frame bore the scars of time, with walls weathered by seasons and a roof bearing a small, ragged aperture.
"That will have to suffice," Noah declared, his gaze scanning the structure before turning to me with a hopeful smile.
As we stepped inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of decay, proof of the passage of time and neglect. The dampness of the floor seeped through the soles of my boots, but the alternative of bedding down in the damp earth didn’t hold much more appeal to neither of us. With trembling limbs, I sank to the floor, exhaustion filling every inch of my body. 
Noah's eyes softened as he watched me sink to the ground of the cabin, after making sure the floor would break under our weight. He knelt beside me, leaning against the wall. I felt his gaze even as I kept my eyes closed, relishing in a deep breath after enduring the past four hours. Despite my efforts to keep my hair tied, it was now a tangled mess, adorned with dry leaves and debris.
It escaped my knowledge how Noah was able to let out a laugh in those circumstances as his fingers removed a couple of leaves from the crown of my head. Then, he touched my chin, his touch gentle as he brushed away the dirt and grime that clung to my skin.
As I struggled to remove my boots, a low moan escaped my lips, the ache of our journey etched into every fiber of my being.
Opening the backpack Noah had placed on the floor in front of us, I unzipped it, instantly greeted by the aroma of food, a welcome change from the scents of nature. I offered a sandwich to Noah, only to have him decline. 
I glared at him. 
“Don’t you even think about sacrificing your food for me. You need it as much as I do. You might be a Samurai but you’re still human, so eat,” I admonished, dropping the sandwich onto his lap. 
He regarded me with surprise before relenting. “All right.”
Relaxing my posture and observing the food in my hands, I acknowledged the reality of our situation. "We should ration, though," I conceded, checking our remaining water bottles and sandwiches. "There won't be enough to last until tomorrow night."
“Then we better make sure we reach our destination in good time to be served a good hot bowl of stew,” Noah replied optimistically. 
We ate in silence, listening to the unique symphony of sounds provided by the forest around us. 
“Why don’t you try to sleep for a while? I’ll keep watch,” Noah suggested once the dark started enveloping us. He had retrieved the Daruma doll from the backpack and was cradling it in his hands, admiring its detailed paintings. 
“There’s no need. This place looks quite safe to me. You could try to sleep, too,” I countered. 
“I’d feel better if I keep an eye out,” he insisted. 
“Hmm.”
“No sulking, come on.” Grabbing the backpack, he placed the doll inside, making sure it was safe. He sat back with his back properly leaned against the wall and patted his thigh. “You can lay your head on my lap if that makes you feel any more comfortable.”
I did, nudging my nose against his tummy. 
For a while, I was alone with my thoughts. 
The distant howls of nocturnal creatures echoed through the dense forest, serving as a haunting reminder of the perilous journey we had embarked upon, which was not only filled with the dread of being lost but also being hunted. Memories of my former life danced before me like ghostly apparitions, intertwining with hopes for a future free from the constraints of my duties as the Shogun’s daughter. 
“Noah,” his name tasted like honey in my lips. 
“Yes?”
“Is this how you imagined things? I mean, we never really discussed how we would do it, how we would… run away, and we never talked about how we saw ourselves in the future. I’m curious now.”
“Curious if my mind has changed?”
“I guess.”
He sighed deeply, his gaze lifting as if seeking clarity in the starry night sky above us, beyond the hole in the roof. 
“Everything has happened so fast…” he began. “I had more than enough time to dream the life I wanted you to have, everything I wanted to give you despite my position, but everything felt like a dream,” his fingers found my neck and traced a path that sent shivers down my spine before moving to my hair, gently tucking lose strands from my ponytail behind my ear as I looked up at him from his lap. “Now everything feels real. Whatever I dreamt for you —for us—, I’m on my way to get it.”
“We are,” I corrected him. 
He looked down, his brown eyes lingering on mine before drifting to my lips and back again.  
“What do you think we will find there?” I asked. 
“I don’t know,” he truthfully answered, “but I have a feeling that whatever it might be, we will get a chance, you and I.” 
His words soothed the turmoil within me. Nestling closer to him, I began to let my mind wander to dreams where Noah and I had our own sanctuary, our own shared life, and a bed to fall asleep in each other's embrace.
“What my grandmother said…” I murmured, a bit shy, “would you marry me if you could?”
He furrowed his brow.
“Why are you asking that?”
I shrugged, suddenly aware that my fear was irrational. Noah had never had eyes for anyone but me. His devotion had been for no one but solely me.
“You know the answer to that. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I always had to go to bed thinking that I might never be able to make you my wife because of our different social status. Trust me, the moment I get to put a ring on your finger, I will.” 
A content smile spread across my face as I embraced the knowledge, envisioning what it would be like to marry him—the boy I'd always loved, now grown into the man he was. My warrior.
"Try to rest, love," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress, his fingers continuing to weave softly through my hair.“And don’t be scared.” 
As I closed my eyes and drifted into the realm of dreams, I felt Noah's presence beside me like a guardian angel, his arms around me, his unwavering vigilance a testament to the depth of his love and devotion. 
The next day arrived with radiant clarity, the morning sun enveloping the landscape in its golden glow. Undeterred by the challenges of our journey, we pressed onward through the forest, guided by the distant echoes of my grandmother's voice and the promise of sanctuary that called us forward.
Before reaching the oak forest, we stumbled upon a mountain village. Comprising only a handful of houses, its rooftops still glistened from the previous days’ rain. The tranquil and secluded atmosphere led Noah and me to chose not to hide amongst the little buildings, reasoning that our presence would seem less conspicuous in plain sight. Yet, an unsettling sensation of being watched loomed over me as we traversed the main street. A pair of elderly women, occupied with tending to their chickens, offered us kind smiles as we passed. We reciprocated with respectful nods before continuing on our way. Despite our efforts to appear inconspicuous, I couldn't shake the feeling of being observed from the shadows, with added to my overall unease. 
"Noah, I think someone is following us," I whispered as we neared the final house.
"I have had the same feeling, but it could just be our nerves getting the best of us. Perhaps we shouldn't have been so bold in passing through this town," he mused.
"What should we do?" I asked anxiously.
"Nothing," he decided firmly, tugging at my hand. "We continue onward. The oak forest can't be far now."
As the sun reached its zenith in the sky, we stumbled upon the ancient oak forest that my grandmother had spoken of, its towering sentinels reaching towards the heavens like silent guardians of a forgotten realm.
Though the oak forest could have spanned vast distances, we were fortunate to locate the river within twenty minutes of passing through the first oak trees. Having left the small town behind us hours ago, we had eaten our last sandwiches and biscuits, and our water supply was dwindling. However, our fortunes improved when we found the river, allowing us to refill our bottles and quench our thirst for a while longer.
As the hours passed, the feeling of being watched that we shared in the village faded away, the trees soothing my anxiety and fears. I would love to find a place among the trees where I could build my life with Noah. It would be lovely, to live among so much nature and raise our children, surrounded by flowers and such vibrant colors. I wondered again what would become of us. Were we destined to spend our days escaping from the crime of loving each other?Forever on the run from those who sought to tear us apart? Or could we dare to dream of a future where we could live in peace, free from the shackles of duty and obligation?
With a sense of awe and reverence, we followed the river upstream, the sound of rushing water mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead.
And then, right when I was about to ask Noah for a break —my feet were paining so much— at long last, we found it – the rhododendron plant, its vibrant blooms a splash of color amidst the verdant greenery that surrounded us. With trembling hands, I reached out, tempted, and plucked a single flower, its petals soft against my skin as if whispering secrets of the forest. 
“It’s so beautiful,” I mumbled to myself.
Noah called my name. The way he said it wasn’t the usual gentle way. There was a warning this time. I looked over my shoulder to him. 
“Stay back,” he said. “Come here.”
He extended his arm to me, and I took his hand without hesitation, a small question appearing between my brows, but before I could muster the words, another voice shattered the tranquility of the forest, its command ringing out with chilling clarity.
"Drop your weapons and step back."
I wasn’t sure where it came from, but I sure dropped the rhododendron flower, which fell at my feet, next to my worn out and dirty boots that had crossed lands. 
Noah's grip tightened around his sword, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow in search of the unseen threat.With a silent nod, he motioned for me to stand behind him, his stance firm and unwavering as he prepared to defend us against whatever danger may be waiting for us, lurking in the shadows of the forest. 
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Readers tagged: @thescarlettvvitch | @girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3
I'm sure I forgot to tag someone. Sorry >.< Just drop me a message if you'd like to be tagged in future updates and I'll make sure I keep a drafted list so that I don't miss anyone!
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
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But they deserve to be happy Leah don’t hurt our babies
Listen….. I don’t make the rules okay. I just don’t. But as always here’s the series Masterlist if you’re not caught up!
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Funerals. They were always far too much for you. The idea of a loved one being buried six feet under the surface or burnt into a pile of ash. Both concepts of inevitable mortality seemed horrifying—the furthest thing from a peaceful transition.
“Dad’s memory will live on through the Navy, with all he gave, all he aspired to achieve and everything he changed.” You always had a comforting understanding for cultural whose beliefs were that death was only a stepping-off point, not a forever goodbye. But as Chaos Kazansky spoke about her father and his love for all things aviation and his deepest passion of all, his family. You couldn't fight the fear off for much longer. Death was an inevitable goodbye you were running from.
“How's she holding up?” It was odd seeing everyone in their dress whites instead of their usual attire. Their sweaty old flight suits that had seen better days. “Probably not too good under the circumstances?”
“Yeah, she uh–she's shut down.” Rooster spoke to you softly as his eyeline continued to linger on Chaos who stood with Maverick and a few other of Tom's close friends. “I've got her though, no need to worry.” Rooster only let his gaze drop from Chaos to send you a soft smile. “How about you?”
“Can I uh, can I talk to you about something?” You had always trusted Bradley Bradshaw in all the time you had known him. He was a soft spirit, but he’d been through things that made his heart a little harder. You knew he’d have some advice to give. From the heart. Sipping on the beer you’d picked up from the bar the Krazanksy family had provided at the wake. Nothing too extreme, just a few beers, wines and soft drink options to go with the catering. Finger food and hors d'oeuvres.
Rooster turned all his attention to you without hesitation, noticing how it was now your eyes that now lingered over to where Jake Seresin stood in his dress whites with Sarah Kazanksy. Spilling his deepest condolences as the woman still stood holding the framed photo of her late husband.  
“What's bugging you Hawkeye?”
“I keep having this nightmare, about Jake.” You hadn't told anyone about the nightmare that had riddled you, and plagued your mind since before your split with Jake. “About this–” Gesturing to the wake going on around you. Sombre faces everywhere. “Except it's just me, there's no one else around to mourn his death.”
“What scares you the most? The fact it's just you or the fact that he's gone?” You’d never stopped to think about it in too much detail before, but Rooster had a point. “I think both ways you look at it though you can't control the outcome either way.” Rooster explained as you looked back at him. “Jakes a great pilot Y/n, come hell or high water he’ll give his life for the greater good, but he's also a menace to fly with.”
“If something were to happen tomorrow would you have his back after everything?” It was a heavy question Rooster didn't really know how to answer simply with a yes or no.
“I wouldn't risk my life for him, no.” Rooster had his own life, his own love to worry about. You understood where he was coming from even if it made your heart sink into your stomach. “But you know I'd do my best to prevent the situation ever getting to that point Hawk.”
“I know, I know, it's just–I don't know if everyone else would do the same.”
“Everyone would do the same.” Rooster was quick to correct your judgment of the TopGun group. “It's our job, like it's your job to keep us safe with all the parameters you set–I don't think you’d send someone you don't necessarily like to their death because of something they’d said or done in the past.”
“I wouldn't–” You defended yourself as Rooster wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side.
“Exactly, it's like that with Hangman, we argue and get on each other's nerves and sometimes I really do question how he managed to convince you to marry him but at the end of the day I'm fairly confident if push came to shove up there he’d have my back and id have his.” Rooster was trying to level with you as Jake noticed the moment you two were having, sending Sarah his condolences one final time before making his way over with intent behind his stride. “I wouldn't go out of my way to save his life if he was the one who put himself there though, I’ve made promises to be around for the long hall for a certain someone who won't even look at me right now.” Rooster had lost Chaos in the time he’s spent listening to your insecurities. He’d later find her back at her place, in her childhood treehouse with a sign hung up that said no boys allowed. Knowing he’d come for her.
“She’ll come around Roo, she always does.” You sighed as he let you go. Pressing his lips together as Jake finally made his way to you, eyes off Rooster like he was the son of Satan himself.
“You trying to steal my girl, Bradshaw?” Jake taunted as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. He looked way too good in his dress whites, handsome and all put together. Shoulders squared as they could be. “Something I need to be concerned about?”
“I wouldn't use a wake as a pick-up place.” Bradley sighed, almost annoyed that he’d again insinuated that he was trying to hit on you. Even though if anything he was doing his job for him. “That's definitely a lot further up your alley than mine.”
“You okay?” Jake turned his attention specifically to you as Rooster walked away, trying to find the girl who really had his whole arse heart in the palm of his hand. “You seem a little off?”
“We’re at a funeral, Jake, do you want me to wipe out a couple of backflips or something?” sighing you shrugged him off, making your way over to the nearest table that had some finger food laid out. A little hungry. “How's Sarah holding up?”
“Distraught, she just lost her husband.” Jake explained as he reached over your shoulder for a sandwich triangle. “Wouldn't you be if you–” He physically had to stop himself from finishing that sentence. Jake's brain had momentarily forgotten just who he was talking to. His eyes lingering on yours as you turned back around to face him. “I'm sorry– I shouldn't have–”
“I would be.” You agreed with Jake's assumption. “Distraught would have to be the kindest way to describe it.” Looking around Jake finally understood what you were so afraid of, what you had run away from. It was never about him, it was about the fear you felt of losing him. But you can only run so far. “The only difference between you and Iceman is he quickly learnt how to fly with the idea in the back of his mind that there were people who loved him waiting for him to come home—“ You took in every fine line and small set of Jake Seresins face. “You still fly like you have nothing to lose and that’s what keeps me up at night.”
“I have already told you—“ Jake's voice grew lower, you didn’t miss the little hint of frustration in his tone. “I’d pull back.”
“What does that even mean though.” You questioned as you pushed past your husband, too overly consumed with the emotions the funeral had made you feel. “Your version of easing up is probably something completely different to mine and it still doesn’t change the fact I don’t wanna be the only one who has to say goodbye—“
“Hey?” Jake chased up to you with concern lacing his voice. “Hey slow down will you?” Taking strides to keep by your side Jake took your wrist gently in his hand. Forcing you to stop in your tracks. “What’s this all about?” Trying to read your face, Jake only saw sadness hidden behind your eyes. An inner ear raging on, he wondered what side was winning and hoped that he was on it. “Tell me.”
“I just wanna go home—“ It wasn’t an acceptable excuse but nevertheless Jake let you go. Hoping you’d tell him anyway. “Come home with me?” You asked softly as you stood with your shoulders slightly sloughed, barely enough energy left in the tank to keep yourself upright after the emotionally draining day that was the goodbye of Tom Kazanksy. “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”
“I’ve got an even better idea.” Jake smirked softly as he walked beside you. His hands in his pockets as you wrapped your arm around his. Kissing your temple as you both walked down towards where your cars were parked. “Go change, pajamas only—meet me at the Hard Deck.”
“I’m not wearing my pajamas to the Hard Deck.” You chuckled, scoffing at your husband’s request.
“Okay, just something comfortable at least, and I said meet me there not that we’re staying there.” You wondered what Jake was up to, but chose to let him have this moment—obviously believing whatever he had in mind was better than what the offer you’d given him. “See you soon.” Jake paused, turning to cup your cheeks in his hands before pulling you closer. His forehead on yours. “I love you, so much.” Kissing you softly and with such passion it almost sent you to the moon.
“I love you so much more.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~
Jake Seresin considered himself to be a romantic. Sure he had his flaws but when he wanted to be? He could really turn it on. All he ever really wanted to do was fly planes and marry the girl of his dreams. His highschool sweetheart. His best friend.
Jake stood awkwardly by his locker across the hall from where yours was like he did every morning. Waiting for you to grab your things, he’d been working up the courage to say hello to you ever since you’d transferred.
“She’ll never talk to you—“ Sebastian snickered as he watched the love struck blonde who’s braces were due off in two weeks pine over a girl he’d never even spoken to. “I heard a rumor that she got expelled from her old school in Florida for kicking some kids so hard in a fight she broke his legs.” Jake's eyes widened as he saw you round the corner, headphones on and minding your own business like you typically tried to do most days.
“Shut up douchebag she’s coming.” Pretending to fish his bags from his locker, Jake turned to see if you had stopped behind him. Noticing that you hadn’t as he looked around—Jake let out a heavy sigh. Another day to tick off his calendar as another day gone he didn’t have enough courage to talk to you. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “See ya later Seb, I’ve got P:E with Mr Horron and if I'm late again he’s gonna make me do two hundred pushups.” Jake groaned as he stepped back slightly and shut he locker—revealing that you’d been standing behind Jake's open locker door. Just waiting for him to close it.
“Why do you wait by your locker for me every goddamn morning?” It was the first time you’d ever spoken to him. Jake almost shit his pants with how much you’d managed to scare the junior-year puberty-ridden teenager. His hand over his heart as he looked at you speechless and wide-eyed. “Well?—you gonna tell me or?”
Jake turned around to see that his best friend Sebastian had in fact, bailed. Leaving him to fend for himself.
“Must just be a coincidence?” Hardly, Jake made sure he was at his locker every morning at least twenty minutes before your bus even came in. He didn’t want to miss the best part of his day. “I’m Jake.”
“Y/n—“ You knew Jake was lying, but you didn’t really care. Your heart was beating so fast from the fact you’d worked up enough courage to finally ask the kid who you thought had been glued to his locker all semester if he was in fact waiting for you, that it didn’t really matter what the answer was. So long as he wasn’t trying to run away from you. Kids could be cruel, and the rumours they created even more vicious.
“Oh, I know.” You couldn’t help but to laugh as Jake's cheeks turned a blushed crimson, embarrassed he’d been so quick to let you know he knew who you were. “I mean, I just—“ Fuck he’d fumbled the ball. Big time. “Hi?”
“Hi yourself.” It was your turn to blush. You could feel the heat in your cheeks rising as Jake's eyes stayed lingering on yours well past the bell which meant he’d be getting two hundred push-ups. “I reckon tomorrow morning you come say hello now that we’re not technically strangers anymore?”
“For sure, yeah uh—yeah No definitely I will!” Jake rambled on like you’d just asked him to marry you. Watching as you pushed off the lockers you’d been leaning on and made your way to whatever class you had that morning. Chemistry—Jake knew you had chemistry Wednesday mornings. “Bye!” You didn’t respond but what Jake couldn’t see was just how excited you were that you’d spoken to him. Keeping your composure—ignoring him as you walked away. That’s what you did when you liked a boy right?
“Oh my fucking god dude she left you hanging man—“ Sebastian laughed as he met up with Jake in the hall a little later. “Hangman’s a great nickname though, at least that’s something.” Turns out that nickname stuck a little too well into his adult life, and Into his career for all the wrong reasons.
“What’s all this?” Jake heard you from the top of the dunes, you’d gone in to find Jake at the Hard Deck but Penny had turned you away, pointing to the direction of the beach.
“Pizza, beers and a fire.” Jake bellowed back as he put the finishing touches up. A string of fairy lights that hung across two tiki torches that he’d stolen from Penny and stuck in the sand on either side of the beach chairs. “Come sit.” Jake picked up one of the blankets he’d brought with him to the beach, wrapping it around your shoulders before you sat down.
“What are you up to Hangman?” There it was again. His callsign, that stupid nickname he’d been given all those years ago when he’d left him hanging in the hallway. The original hangman if you will.
“I thought we could just—“ Jake took his own blanket out from the seat before he sat, letting it lay across his legs as the fire warmed you both. “Talk. Thought we could just sit here with a beer and listen to the waves and just talk.”
“Sounds doable.” You cooed as you accepted the beer Jake had given you. Taking the neck gracefully. “Can we maybe talk about what we’re gonna do with the house?” You jumped straight into the opportunity gifted to you as Jake took a bite of the pizza Penny had made him, offering you a piece too. “Do we maybe wanna put it on the market?”
“Depends on what you think the markets gonna do I guess?” Jake's voice fit perfectly with the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore. “On one hand we’re making what? a couple of hundred extra each week from rent after we pay our mortgage.” You both still kept your joint account after you’d split up. It all felt too permanent and too real to close it. “On the other hand we split the diff and sell up.”
“I think I was more wondering if you just wanted to start a fresh somewhere else.” Taking a sip of your beer to help the pizza go down. “I mean we could always buy in Texas again? Your mums always said she wanted you closer.” Turning your head towards Jake you watched under the glow of the fire as his chest puffed. Laughing.
“I’m pretty sure that’s just a ruse to be able to see you more often.” Jake explained as he told you about all the times his mother had questioned him about if you were getting back together or not. “She’s always had a soft spot for you.”
“Right, well—we can circle back to the house situation after we figure out what we’re gonna do about our next postings.”
“I overheard Admiral Beau talking to Admiral Bates last week and I think we’re getting a pretty easy ride after this if we want it.” Jake mumbled through his next bite of pizza, talking with his mouth full. “So I’ll go wherever you’re going.” It was nice to think about—being able to spend more time with Jake while working. It always seemed to be touch and go. “But, I do wanna talk about something, if you’ll give me a chance?” Jake took a sip as he let his head fall against the beach chair. The white wooden lounge chairs connected by a table top that held the pizza box.
“What’s on your mind?” You asked, enjoying the serenity and warmth of the fire.
“Today honestly really got to me.” You weren’t expecting that. “I mean, I've never really thought about it before but—yeah it hit me really hard after you left just how much I really need to check myself before I crash and burn babe.” You’d been right. Jake knew deep down that you had been right all along. You had every right to be worried about him. “Seeing the way Sarah was just so lost really made me think—“ Jake turned to look at you with a soft lul in his neck. Mimicking him you did the same. Both of you still holding your respective beers. “I can’t do this to you anymore—I’m done talking risks, if that means I’ve gotta fly with hazards on then so be it.”
“And all the times you’ve called Rooster a conservative—“ You chuckled softly as Jake beamed at you. He loved your laugh, so much. It had been far too long since he’d gone without it. Never again.
“Yeah, I’ll have to eat my words.” Jake just rolled his eyes knowing that that would open a can of worms for Rooster to eat one by one. “You ever gonna tell me what you were talking about today?” You let the question linger a little. Treading water in the silence as waves crashed and the fire crackled.
“I will, one day—“ You smiled softly as Jake sat up. Letting his blanket fall into the sand. “Hopefully I won’t ever need to. But sure, one day.” For a while, you both just sat In comfortable silence. Something you hadn’t had the chance to do in a while. Enjoying each other’s company.
“Are we really gonna make this work again?” Jake's voice drew you back into reality before you had a chance to drift too far away. “Because if we are I reckon we should at least write new vows.”
“Why’s that?” You weren’t opposed to the idea, not in the slightest bit. But you wanted to know Jake's reasons. His thought process, what led him to this decision.
“I wanna be with you forever.” Jake was wearing his whole heart on his sleeve for you. A side no one else ever got to see. “And you wanna be with me forever, right?”
“I do.” You responded with no hesitation. “I absolutely do, although it’ll probably lead me to an early grave the amount of worrying I do.” Jake let you have that one. Watching as you decided enough was enough and that you needed to be closer to him.
“In order to do that, we need to make vows—a commitment, a contract.” Jake continued as you made your way over to him, bringing your beer and blanket as you sat in between his legs. Back against his chest. Reaching out for the notebook he’d brought from the glovebox of his car Jake let his arms prop over your shoulders so you could see the book. “So what do we want to promise each other?”
“We already did this at our wedding?” You tried to side just how smitten you truly become but it was hard to do when Jake kissed the top of your head before clicking the pen he held in his other hand.
“This is for now until forever, clearly the ones we made before just weren’t cutting it.” Jake's voice had dropped a few octaves as the night grew old. The fire still burned bright before you as the lights above your head flickered. “So, what do we want to promise each other?” You didn’t respond instantly, you simply let the waves fill the silence.
“That you’ll always love me—even when you hate me.” Jake couldn’t contain his happiness as he wrote down what you had said.
“To love each other—“ Jake spoke allowed as he chicken scratched his handwriting across the paper. “Even when we hate each other.” Love isn’t random. It’s chosen, Jake Seresin would choose you in every universe.  “How about, no running—ever.” Jake pulled you as close as he possibly could into him. Your back right up against his as you took the pen from him, writing down his words. “Nobody walks out, no matter what.” It just got personal, your past self would never have thought to write something so specific down. But it felt right to promise it now.
“To take care of each other even when we’re old and smelly and senile—to have and to hold forever.” Jake chuckles against your back as you laughed with him, watching as he took the pen and wrote down what you had said.
“This, is, forever.” Jake whispered the words he wrote in your ear as his chin dropped to your shoulder. Signing his signature underneath the bows you both had written down. Passing you the pen and notepad so you could do the same. “Sign here please Mrs Seresin.”
“To have and to hold Mr Seresin.” You signed your signature right next to Jakes. Grinning ear to ear because for the first time in a very long time—you had hope that your marriage was whole again. Under the moon and the stairs next to fire and with the love of your life, everything felt whole as you both sat and listened to the waves crash and the fire crackle. “I feel like we need to exchange rings—“ ripping small strips of paper from the bottom of the same page you’d written your new vows on.
“Paper rings? A nice touch.” Jake cooed as he held his left hand out for you to slide the not so sturdy paper ring down his left ring finger . Covering the tattooed one he’d gotten because he was always forgetting to put the carbon fiber wedding band on. It still sat in the ring box at the bottom of his bedside table. Safety tucked away.
“Love you forever.” You whispered gently as Jake took the one you’d made for yourself. Placing it above the ring that already wrapped around your ring finger snugly.
“And a little bit more—forever and a day.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
The night you and Jake had rewritten your vows to each other had been a turning point for Jake Seresin. He wanted nothing more than to be a better version of himself for you. Nothing mattered to him more, more than you, his marriage.
“Captain Mitchell?” Jake knocked before he entered Petes office. Waiting to speak again until spoken to.
“What can I do for you Hangman?” Pete sighed. Frustrated at the stunt Chaos had just pulled in front of the entire class, knowing there was nothing else left he could do to protect her from whatever punishment Admiral Beau had chosen for her. If Jake was quiet enough, he could hear the reprimanding she was getting next door. It didn't sound good. And judging by Petes expressions? It wasn't going to end well.
“I uh, I just wanted to express my concern about the mission, sir.” Jake stood with his chin tall and his shoulder squared. Hands behind his back as he watched Maverick roll his eyes.
“Yeah i know i know, i’m working on it kid–i've got names and times and i know everyone wants to be chosen but i just can't promise an–”
“I’d like to withdraw my name from consideration.” It was the last thing Pete Mitchel ever expected to hear come out of Jake's mouth. His jaw almost hit the floor when he paused in his tracks. Rubbing his face to see if he’d actually fallen asleep at his desk going over reports.
“You what?” Maverick questioned just to make sure he heard the aviator with such potential correctly. Sure he needed some real tough love when it came to teamwork and efficiency but Jake was a fine pilot. A top condenser on Pete's current list.
“My priority list sir, it's uh–it's shifted recently and I can't–” Jake corrected himself as quickly as he could to make sure it was known this wasn't negotiable. “Sorry sir, I won't risk not coming home to see those commitments through.” Pete stood beside himself bewildered into utter silence. Downing in the silence, Jake tried not to let his mind wander.
“It's really funny you mention this sudden change of heart Hangman, because not four days ago your wife was threatening me that if I even considered putting you on this mission she’d hold me personally responsible if anything happened to you.” If there was one thing Jake was good at it was a poker face. As Maverick dropped a bond he wasn't expecting as a response Jake stood calmly as his heart raged a war inside his chest. His temperature rising, his skin boiling. “I can't promise either of you anything, but I'll take both of your requests into consideration.”
“Thank you Mav.” Jake wasn't in the mood to stick around, he did however wait outside Admiral Beaus' office to see what had become of Chaos Kazansky. He needed a distraction from the fact you'd meddled with his career. The only person who got to do that, who got to decide what he did and did not do with his career was him. Not you. Not anyone. Even if you had both come to the same conclusion– you went behind his back before the fact. And didn’t mention it.
Down the hall, you were just coming back from lunch. Admiring the bunch of roses Jake had been ever so kind to surprise you with. The card attached read to have and to hold forever and a day in that same chicken scratch writing he’d down on the notepad that now sat framed on your desk.
A pile of mail sat unopened that had been delivered while you were out. All addressed to Y/n Seresin. On autopilot, one by one you opened each envelope. Reading the mundane work jargon that cluttered your brain. Some real above the shoulders mustard type shit. But soon your heart was falling into a pit so deep you never knew a hole could be dug so deep.
A single letter had been mixed into the mail. Addressed to one Jacob Seresin. It was already too late to put it down, no. You couldn't put it down even if you wanted to. Screaming from the inside to stop reading but you couldn't. Your hands clench at the paper as you read the letter addressed to your husband. A letter from DNALabs.
A paternity test request from a woman by the name of Marissa Mccauley.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax@starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74
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sissylittlefeather · 9 months
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Hi friends! I wrote another fic. I'm just churning these out right now because I'm obsessed 😂
You really have to suspend reality for this one. Like, just let your imagination have at it and try not to think about how it would actually work out. Also, it's based on a scene from the movie, so it's probably more Austin!Elvis, but you could pretend it really happened with EP if you wanted to. The world is your oyster. Dream on.
This is a continuation of Baby What's Your Name?, but you don't necessarily have to read that one first. Basically, all my fics exist in the same timeline with the same Elvis & reader characters.
Warnings: F/m p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex, cops?, smut, cussing, MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: this takes place after the riot at the Russwood Park show in the Elvis (2022) movie. Austin!Elvis x reader (y/n). You've come to comfort Elvis after they shove him in the cop car.
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Always, Honey
You sit and watch in horror as the police officers drag Elvis from the stage. He's finally done it. He's gone too far and the people in charge stepped in. For a minute or two, you sit there in shock at what's happening with your hand covering your open mouth.
You need to get to him, but you know it won't be easy. You're not there in any official capacity. His parents don't know about you. The Colonel has suspicions that Elvis has been seeing someone, but he doesn't know who you are. No one knows that you've been with Elvis every time you could since that first night together when you threw your panties on the stage. What started with lust has turned into a relationship and you realize right now in this moment that you love him. Your worry for him makes that clear. You have to find a way to get to him.
You shake off the shock of the moment and stand up. You were sitting toward the back of the concert, so you can see the squad car at the back of the ballpark. That's where they will be headed. You take off in that direction, away from all the other fans who are running toward him. You make it to the car. As you stand there trying to decide what to do next, you see the crowd coming through the gates, and the officers dragging Elvis are at the center. He's yelling to his parents to get in the car they're being taken to, trying to keep himself clear of policemen and fans alike. You pretend to be just another fan as they shove him in the backseat and close the door. You're standing on the other side of the car when actual fans press in around you, screaming and grabbing at the car. You manage to get your face down to the window and knock on it, just praying that he'll look over in your direction. You pull on the door, but it's locked. You knock again on the window and yell as loud as you can, "E!"
He hears your voice amidst the chaos and turns, seeing you in the window. There's no one in the front seat yet, so he's able to unlock the door and open it just enough for you to slip into the backseat with him. He pulls you close to him and grabs your face with both hands.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, E, I'm fine. Are you okay?" He relaxes a little, knowing that you aren't hurt.
"Man, that was... I'm pissed, but yeah, I'm not hurt or anything." He pulls you in for a kiss. He's dripping in sweat, but you don't care. This isn't the first time he's kissed you after a show. Usually you're squeezed somewhere backstage together for a quick moment before he's whisked away to wherever he's supposed to be post-performance.
Just then, though, the front doors of the car open and the cops slide into their positions on the front seat. The one in the passenger seat turns to look back at Elvis, glaring with a hatred you've never seen before. Elvis glares back with the same intensity. It takes a minute for the cop to even realize you're back there.
"What the hell is she doing in here? Get her out! You can't have a damn fan girl in the backseat when you're getting arrested!"
"IF SHE GETS OUT, I GET OUT." Elvis yells. You can see his hands shaking with rage. "SHE IS NOT A FAN. SHE IS MY GIRL." Your head whips around and your eyes lock on him. That's the first time he's acknowledged what you might be to each other.
The cop opens his mouth to yell back, but the other officer cuts in.
"-- you can't open the door right now. There's too many people out there and we need to go. She's going to have to stay where she is." He drives off slowly, careful to not run over any of the fans who are mobbing the car.
"Well... just... don't touch her." The passenger seat cop growls at Elvis, who defiantly throws his arm around you.
"I'll do what I damn well please. What are you gonna do? Arrest me?"
The cop's face goes beet red and he turns around in his seat to face front. Elvis plants a kiss on the side of your head and apologizes quietly.
"I'm sorry about all this, honey." He's got one hand around your shoulder and the other on your thigh. You look up into his eyes.
"Your girl, huh?" You try to keep your smile from giving away the elation you feel in your heart. Yep. You absolutely are in love with him. He gives you a soft smile.
"Yeah, baby, that alright with you?"
"Yeah, if that's what you want."
"If it means you're all mine, then it's what I want, kid." Your heart flip flops in your chest.
"And are you all mine?" You shouldn't have asked that. You know he belongs to his fans. You prepare yourself for him to say no without saying no.
"Always, honey." He leans in to kiss you again, this time with his lips parted. You let your tongue explore his as you turn toward him and move your legs across his lap. The hand that was on your thigh moves back to your hip as he pulls you in to him as close as you can get without straight up straddling him. He leans you back in the seat until he's on top of you.
"E. There are COPS in the front seat." You whisper with your teeth gritted. You feel the desire starting to build up between your legs, but you know this cannot happen here.
"I know, honey, I just want to make my girl feel good. Can I do that?" Your resolve melts. Let the cops watch, for all you care in this moment.
He sits up and slides his hands up under your dress, pulling your panties down your legs and over your shoes. You feel his hand crawl back up your thigh to your center. He uses his thumb to make circles on the spot that drives you so crazy. Then, he dips his fingers into you, where you're already wet and waiting for him. He uses some of your wetness to lubricate what his thumb is doing. It gets harder and harder to stay quiet as he works, so you bite your bottom lip and close your eyes.
"Damn, baby. You look so good right now." He whispers, not stopping what his hand is doing. Your heart is beating so fast and your breathing is heavy. You know your climax is coming and you're just praying that you'll stay quiet and the cops won't turn around until after you finish. He moves his thumb faster and faster, his fingers rubbing against your inside spot. You let out a small whine as the waves of ecstasy ripple through you. You look at Elvis and he smiles as he feels the throbbing and wetness on his fingers.
Almost on cue, the cop in the passenger side turns back to the backseat as you arrive at your destination. You shoot up in your seat and Elvis clears his throat, pulling his hand from under your skirt. You can't tell if the cop is clueless, or if he's just ignoring what happened so he doesn't have to talk about it. The driver pulls around to the back of the police station to avoid any press that might be gathered at the front.
"We have to go inside and get things arranged to bring you inside quietly. Arresting a movie star is harder than you think. Young lady, come with us." You start to move toward the door, but Elvis grabs your hand.
"I told you, officer, if she gets out, I get out. She's staying with me." He says it with so much authority that even the cop relents. He closes the door and both officers walk up to the back of the building. The second they're out of view, you turn back to Elvis and undo his pants, freeing his erection.
"Honey, what..?" He looks at you puzzled until he figures out what you're doing. He whips his head from side to side looking out both windows for paparazzi or cops or anyone at all while you hike up your skirt and straddle him. As you slide down onto him, your eyes meet and you moan in unison. You know you probably only have a few minutes, so you work fast, bouncing on him vigorously.
"Oh shit, baby." Elvis groans into your ear as his pleasure is released. Between the build up, watching you orgasm, and the thrill of maybe getting caught, he didn't last long at all. You push his wet hair back off of his sweaty forehead and kiss him. He's about to apologize for coming so quickly when you notice the cops coming back out. You jump off of him and sit back in your seat while he puts himself away and wipes off as much evidence as possible.
"I hope it's kinda dark in there." He laughs and holds your hand as the cops open his door. He turns back to you and gives you one last kiss.
"I'll see you soon, baby." They take him out of the car and cuff him as the other officer helps you out of the car. When you get inside, they let you use the phone to call Margie to come get you. It's not until you're in her car that you realize you've left your panties in the cop car. You giggle. Another pair of panties lost because of Elvis Presley...
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spacelazarwolf · 9 months
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Hi I don't know if you do advice posts but I'm really hitting it off with this guy who has sorta run in adjacent social circles but who i didn't really get to know personally until the past month or so. He recently disclosed to me that he's trans and while it isn't a deal breaker by any means the truth is I've never dated nor slept with a trans guy and I'm not sure whether I should mention that to him if we decide to pursue something so that he knows not to expect too much in terms of skill or not to so that he doesn't get the wrong impression and think I'm using him for an experiment. I'm either a gnc cis woman or some flavor of nonbinary but I'm not sure yet and I'm attracted to men
so imo, the best course of action would be to not disclose. i think you'll both feel more comfortable if you just let the relationship progress organically. if he asks and you're comfortable sharing, i think you can definitely tell him and also include that you don't want him to feel like an experiment. that should open the door for some good conversations about boundaries, likes and dislikes, what terminology he prefers, if he has had a form of bottom surgery, etc. basically, just let him take the lead on that. those conversations can start to feel a little clinical, so feel free to make them spicy. it's more fun that way.
this isn't necessarily what you asked about, but my adhd brain is taking me there, so here's my nsfw advice for folks who want to have sex with a trans person for the first time and are nervous about what to do. ymmv, and of course other trans folks are welcome to contribute. this can also apply to a lot of intersex folks as well, but i'm not gonna speak on that part since i'm not intersex, so intersex folks definitely feel welcome to add to this as well.
he's pre or no op and you're not sure what to call his junk and you don't want to just come out and ask? get a sexy conversation going and ask what he wants you to do to him. he'll describe his body with the terminology he prefers, and you can pick it up from there.
not sure if she's comfortable with you going near her genitals? "tell me where you want me to touch you" "where do you want me to put my mouth?" this is another great way to find out what someone calls parts of their body.
nervous about how to interact with his bottom growth? "i want to watch you touch yourself." "show me how you want me to touch you." watch what he does and copy that when you take over.
not sure if they're a top or a bottom or a side? start with what you prefer (or if you have boundaries about what roles you're not comfortable taking on), and let them respond to that. you don't like bottoming? good, she hates topping! you don't really like penetrative sex on either side? great, they can do oral for hours! haven't topped before but you're willing to try? perfect, he's a power bottom! and if you find your preferences aren't compatible, you can either see if there's other things they're willing to try, or go your separate ways amicably. this sometimes happens with queer sex and it's no one's fault!
he's had phallo and you're not sure how it works? treat it like you would any other dick! if there are things you need to or that he wants you do to differently, he'll tell you. same with meta, it's just a dick that's on the smaller end of average. refer back to "show me how you want me to touch you" if you're still nervous about it.
think they might be getting dysphoric? focus on parts of their body you know they like or that give them good gender feelings. run your hands over his biceps and talk about how sexy his muscles are. run your fingers through her hair and talk about how soft it is. if they seem to be spiraling, turn the attention to you to get them out of their head.
have to stop having sex because the dysphoria got too bad? keep it casual. if they want to talk about it, let them. if they want to let it go, find another activity you can do that feels intimate without the sexual contact. when they seem better, tell them "i'm really glad you were able to tell me earlier that you were feeling uncomfortable. it means a lot that you trust me enough to tell me that." if they seem open to it, have a conversation about what you can do if that happens in the future.
not as sexy, but still very important: if you have a uterus and can get pregnant and your partner has a penis that produces sperm, or vice versa, use a reliable form of birth control! it can suck to talk about that stuff, but it's incredibly important. additionally, use protection against sexually transmitted diseases and infections! get tested regularly, be open and honest with your partner(s), and always pee after sex.
have fun! have weird sex! have vanilla sex! try out some new kinks! celebrate the endless possibilities!
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throneofsapphics · 7 months
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hey hey hey!!! i'm back!!! i was with my family, so i haven't been so active, but now im home again!! ❤️‍🩹 hope you're safe and happy!!
so i was thinking what i could request, and i have just read your feysand x reader where feyre and reader get piercings (it was a masterpiece 🫶🏻)
so i was thinking of this; rowaelin x reader where reader gets a tattoo (something significant to the three of them), but rowaelin has no idea.
pd; stay healthy, eat well, sleep well, don't stress, and BE HAPPY 🧡🫶🏻
fresh ink
Summary: Reader gets a tattoo
Warnings: none 
A/N: ah I’m glad you liked it! thank you for the request :) I hope you’re doing well!
You’d been thinking about a tattoo for a long time, and ran through different ideas in your mind, even sketching them out on paper sometimes. It took you months, but you decided on getting the constellation of the Lord of the North. It just felt right, in a way you couldn’t quite explain. 
Rowan and Aelin were away for the weekend, and you built up the nerve to finally do it. Rowan, when he found out - and you had no doubt he would eventually, could be offended you went to anyone else to have it done. But, you trusted your friend and they’d been tattooing for years. Maybe the tattoo was a bit too permanent, but you could always spin it off as being just for Terrasen. 
-
“What did you do?” Rowan asked, ten minutes after they returned from their trip. 
“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow at him. Aelin looked back and forth between the two of you. 
“You have that look on your face.” 
“Rowan,” Aelin said sweetly, and his head snapped towards her in alarm. “Shut up.”
His eyes narrowed, but she crossed the room and tugged you into another hug. You leaned into her, breathing in her scent. She chuckled, running her hand over the back of your head. You winked at him from over her shoulder. His eyes rolled but his lips quirked up at the corners. 
Later that night, you were stretched out on the couch, your head in Aelin’s lap. Her nails were digging into your scalp, and you felt your body unwind slowly, each muscle relaxing subconsciously. She tapped on your cheek, and you turned on your back so you could look up and face her. 
“Yes?” 
“What did you do?” 
You groaned, and heard weight shifting. Apparently her question had caught Rowan’s attention as well. “Do you need a play-by-play of my whole week?” You teased her, flicking her nose. 
“I’m only curious,” she swatted your hand away. “He’s right, you know, about that look.” 
You gasped in fake shock, sitting up quickly to look at Rowan. “You might never hear that again. Aelin admitted someone else is right." The female in question let out a disgruntled noise.
He snorted. “You’re avoiding her question.” 
“I’ve done many things, you’ll have to be more specific.” 
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and you fought back your grin. Pushing his buttons was one of your favorite past-times. 
“Just tell us.” Aelin said, reaching out her arm to pull you back closer to her. You winced as her hand brushed against your ribs. Right over the still sore spot. 
Rowan’s eyes gleamed as he caught the movement, and he rose, stalking across the room. 
“Lift your shirt.” 
“Buy me dinner first.” You muttered, ignoring him and laying back down on Aelin’s lap. That was the wrong move because she quickly slid the fabric up your side, you shivered and jumped as the cold air hit you, but one hand pinned you down as she peered over to look at it. 
“Is that the Lord of the North?” 
She ran her finger over the spot, and you batted her hand away. “It’s sore,” you hissed at her. 
“I like it,” she carefully lowered your shirt, avoiding brushing directly against the new ink. “Does the professional have an opinion?” 
Silence filled the room for a few moments. “You could have asked me.” Thankfully, he didn’t sound hurt necessarily, maybe a bit jealous but not hurt over it. 
“I would have lost my nerve,” you admitted. And asking him to do a tattoo that represented the three of you felt too overwhelming. 
“If you want any more, come to me.” He turned, heading back towards his seat. “It looks nice,” he said over his shoulder, barely loud enough for you to hear. 
"He's jealous," Aelin teased, "he wants his ink on you."
She squawked as a gust of icy wind hit her face, and you instinctively brought both of your arms up to cover your head, feeling the heat of flames brushing over the top of you a second later.
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