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eureka-its-zico · 8 months

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 4

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

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

Words: 8.7+

A/N: This chapter is mostly filler from 1.04-1.05. This chapter also, once again has a POV from Zoro. I kept going through my options of what I could do to possibly give these two idiots more alone time and this was the result. The beginning, and introduction, of Sanji begins right at Chapter 5 and I already have too many ✨ideas ✨ that I know what to do with. Also, I did add in Zoro working out. It’s a brief mention, but I just found it weird he didn’t have any of those scenes (probably for damn good reason). As always, thank you guys for all the love and support. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

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“I don’t know, Doc. You’re starting to look a little pale.”

“And green.”

You’d been hugging the side of this particular railing since you’d sailed out of port. It was your first time ever on a ship and it wasn’t going too great. You’d heard about seasickness and even had sailors come asking for Naan’s Elfroot to chew to stem the tide while they were out at sea. You always thought they were being ridiculous. How bad could it be?

Well, if your dry heaving was any indication - pretty bad. Of course, Zoro just had to make it worse.

You glanced up from looking at the water that was gently tapping the side of the boat to the growing bane of your existence. One hand was tucked into the pocket of his jeans while the other rested on the hilt of his swords. He looked effortlessly cool as he watched you with - was that a smirk?

He’d changed into a yellow shirt with fine detailing of gray lines running horizontally and vertically, which matched perfectly with his gray pants.

Zoro was more of a fashionista than he’d let on.

“It’s just the reflection of your hair,” you shot back at him.

You could feel the next wave of nausea thrashing around in your stomach and you prayed you could keep it down. You were going to lose more cool points if you hurled again. Zoro squinted over the sun's rays to regard your current state. He must have been able to tell you were 0.2 seconds from hurling because, instead of replying, he simply twirled his finger indicating for you to turn around.

You did as he instructed, but made sure to follow it up with a middle finger salute.

“Man, you two always like this? You just met.” Usopp asked.

Usopp tried doing the dotting friend routine by patting you a few times, awkwardly, on your back. It felt more like he was trying to get a burp out of you than soothe you.

“It’s because they like each other.”

Nami pranced out of the galley and chose violence. It only took both you and Zoro to register her words before you both shouted:

“I don’t like her.”

“I hate him!”

Nami wrapped her arms around herself as she looked you both over. A devious smile tilting the edges of her mouth and you had to look away before it turned into the shit eating grin you’d come to expect.

“I’m sure you both do,” she teased.

You wanted to prove to her that you meant it. Zoro would be the last person you would say you liked, like- like that. The man was literally the biggest pain in the ass you’d ever met.

“Usopp,” you croaked, “can you get my bag, please.”

“I’m on it, Doc.”

At the sound of his feet hitting the deck, a groan of discomfort resonated in your chest. How could anyone think that sailing was fun? This felt like the absolute worst.

When you first entered the Going Merry you couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. You’d heard Usopp tell you stories since he cleaned it everyday. It was as finely crafted as he’d described, and the white ashwood against the walnut was a stark contrast but complemented each other beautifully. There wasn’t another ship like the Going Merry and a one-of-a-kind ship should belong to someone as extraordinary as Luffy.

The minute you’d cast off into the giant blue you’d almost panicked. What if this was a mistake? You’d never been out in open water before nor had you ever left Syrup village. This could either be one of the greatest adventures of your life or a disaster. The only thing that kept you from flinging yourself over the side and swimming back was when you’d walked the stern and the glint of the sun shone down on the water.

The sun’s rays illuminated the water like light reflecting off a crystal glass. One minute it was the deepest blue. The color was solid enough that your reflection was easy to see and in a matter of seconds after a ray of light touched its water, it took on a cornflower hue that made the water translucent.

You’d been able to admire it for all of three seconds before you were embarrassing yourself over the port bow.

“I’m back, Doc,” Usopp spoke softly as he placed a soft hand on your shoulder. He lightly tapped the bag against your hands to try and coax you to grab it. “Do you need me to get you water or anything?”

“Water is not going to help. It’ll make it worse.”

You thought he was trying just to be his usual monotoned “Hi, I’m Zoro and I could care less,” self, but when you finally peeled your forehead off your forearm and looked at him he wasn’t even looking at either of you. He was curled up, like a lazy cat, against a couple of crates with his eyes closed and faced tilted towards the sun. With his hands infamously stuffed inside his pockets.

“It would?”

You nodded your head only once in recognition before you started searching through your bag. Your hands started scrambling inside it a soft, “No,no,” building into a frenzy before you stopped searching.

“I’m guessing your magic little root isn’t in there.”

Zoro was still sitting without a care while you felt like you wanted to throw yourself overboard.

“No. It isn’t.”

Mental note: Ask Luffy to stop at Irkhaven Isle to get supplies.

Suddenly, Zoro stood in one graceful motion and walked off towards the galley.

Ass.

You turned back to the Going Merry’s railing and held on tight. Your stomach felt like you’d swallowed glass and got punched, it was so empty. Another groan was building in your chest when a cold bottle touched the back of your arm.

The coolness to your skin sent a yelp of surprise from you, and sent you whirling to the presence beside you. Zoro was leaning back against the railing, looking as calm as ever, with a beer extended out between you.

“Isn’t it a little bit too early to be drinking?”

He rolled his eyes as he switched positions. He was now mimicking your current position against the rail but looked effortless and was still holding that damn beer out to you.

“It’s for you.”

“For me? Zoro, I don’t think now is the time to be drinking-“

“Just drink it,” he growled, an obvious annoyance replacing his earlier calm.

What hell, what was a beer going to do? At most, it would at least give your stomach something to actually throw up instead of dry heaving yourself into a six pack.

You reached out and took it from him. Zoro continued to watch you as you placed the bottle to your lips, waiting for you to take a sip.

“Could I get some privacy here?”

Zoro rolled his eyes but did as you asked looking off into the southside of the ship. You took that moment to take a long pull from the bottle. Surprisingly, it was damn good beer. You waited for the bitter aftertaste to kick in, but found it replaced with the tang of citrus. You immediately took another drink and another. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the middle of the bottle that you noticed the ship had been rocked a few times by the waves and yet…

You went to turn your attention back to Zoro and found him already staring at you.

I am not blushing.

You turned quickly to look back out at the ocean with both arms leaning over the railing as you took in the picturesque view. You couldn’t believe beer was making your sea sickness disappear. Out of your peripherals you waited for him to turn away from you. Unable to say it to his face as you played with the label that was peeling off from condensation.

Alcohol. It was brilliant. You were sure your body was still feeling sick, but the depressant in the beer wasn’t allowing those receptors to acknowledge it. Tilting the bottle at him you asked, “How’d you know this would work.”

“It’s how I survived all my boat trips. Old guy I’d met aboard my first ship when I was seventeen taught me that trick.”

“Is that why you have so much booze? Cause you have a weak stomach?”

Your question came off worse than you intended. You genuinely weren’t trying to insult him. He’d just helped you. Zoro has helped you.

“No. I just like to drink.”

His tone was void of all emotion. The little bit he’d given you quickly washed away and you wanted to kick yourself.

Foot meet mouth. Mouth meets foot.

You weren’t very good at this. The only friend you’d ever actually had was Usopp. The both of you know the tone of the other and every secret in between. You’d tried to make friends with the other kids in town, but holding up a frog as a friendship gift didn’t seem to go over too well. And on that wonderful trip down memory lane…

You straightened up and took a smaller sip from the beer before you leaned down to pick up your abandoned satchel.

“Thank you, Zoro.”

The both of you stared at the other until the silence was washed out by the squawking of seagulls and the rush of water. Even now in this weird game of chicken, you knew you would be the first to give. His dark eyes staring straight through you until you felt exposed. You tipped the bottle for good measure and turned on your heel to make your way inside the safety of the kitchen. Your hand clutching the bottle close as your brain tried to make sense of what happened.

Zoro helped you. He didn’t have too and for all intents and purposes you were surprised he didn’t just let you suffer, but he’d chosen not to. What did that even mean? He was just being friendly. It didn’t mean anything more than that.

Instead of dwelling on the question, you sat down in the corner booth and took another pull from the bottle.

——————-

After you finished your first bottle, you found another, and another until you’d ended up blissfully passed out in the booth. You were vaguely aware that Luffy and the crew had come into the galley at some point. The sound of Usopp and Luffy struggling to talk over the other was what forced you out of your nap.

“We all know who the Captain is.”

“It’s me.”

Two voices rang out as one with each ending in a high-pitch of surprise. It was his first day and already Usopp was trying to stir up mutiny on the ship. If you weren’t interested in staying unconscious you were positive you would’ve smiled.

“Just call me Captain Usopp.”

“We already know I’m the Captain.”

It didn’t surprise you they were still giving out declarations of who was Captain. You waited for it to become a campaign, like when Townsfolk ran for Mayor, but the sound of Nami’s laughter followed by - was that Zoro?! - ended both men’s rant.

“See, this is what it’s all about,” Luffy’s voice chimed in. “From now it’s going to be smooth sailing.”

He was his usual happy sounding self. You were willing to bet it was infectious, making everyone’s earlier laughter remain in the small creases by their eyes and the raise of their lips. Luffy was indeed a Captain and one of the best kind.

Enjoying the moment abruptly ended, however, when you caught the sound of a whistle outside. It grew more intense by the second. Whatever it was, was slicing through the air with a force that was audible. You weren’t sure why it took so long for your brain to register that it wasn’t a natural sound. It was rectified, however, when something violently slammed into the Going Merry and sent everything trembling.

Your back immediately shot up off the cushion of the booth. Eyes open wide as you stumble to your feet watching Nami and Zoro do the same.

“What in the hell was that?”

“Luffy opening his damn mouth,” Nami replied as you followed behind her.

You were wondering how Luffy’s mouth could have anything to do with the current sounds coming from outside. Your response died in your throat the minute you got out onto the deck. You followed them to the stern of the ship and finally saw what was waiting for you all was a very large, very metal, Marine vessel trailing behind you.

All the blood drained from your body and whatever buzz you’d had left over from earlier was now completely gone.

“It’s the marines! We’re under attack!”

Nami rushed to the wheel to begin to try evasive maneuvers to get you all out of the way of the oncoming cannonballs. Another shot rang out from the marine vessel and you waited to be struck by steaming metal and found yourself vaguely relieved when it crashed into the ocean a few feet from you.

“How did they find us?”

“Does it matter? They’re trying to blow us out of the water!”

What the hell were you supposed to do?

What in the hell could anyone do against being shot at by cannons and a marine vessel that was gaining on your small ship by the second. You could see three figures standing at the bow of the ship, eerily watching as if waiting for something - or someone - to appear.

Luffy grabbed the telescope and peered through the lens. You all waited for him to give an order and what he said next surprised everyone.

“Grandpa?”

“Grandpa!”

“Did you just call that guy grandpa?” Zoro asked, his eyes carefully watching Luffy as he glanced through the telescope back at the ship.

He didn’t answer right away. The sound of another shot being fired made all of you space out from one another. You could feel the tension singing through your nerves. The adrenaline was demanding you to move or do something else besides just hopelessly stand like a damn target. The fight or flight in you erupted to life with one key thought hoarding every inch of clarity besides one: run.

This time when the cannon came crashing down it came right at the edge of the stern. An eruption of water covering you in a fine mist of water. You didn’t get a chance to decide on what to do when another shot rang out.

“Hit the deck!”

Usopp’s scream was frantic enough you didn’t ask why, and did as he instructed and became one with the wood. Seconds later, the sound of speeding metal whizzed by you and smashed into the railing behind sending wood fragments everywhere.

You couldn’t stop the scream that tore its way from your lips as your body curled in on itself.

What the hell did I sign up for?

You could hear the sounds of feet clumsily finding their footing again as everyone began to get up. You wanted to stay where you were, but the sharp sound of Zoro calling you a coward resonated inside your chest.

You could do this. You could totally hundred-percent do this.

It was your turn to begin to get up from your place on the stern deck, and just as you moved to your knees someone offered their hand for you to take. Color you shocked when you looked up to find that hand was attached to Zoro. You must have been staring too long because he looked away, hand still out, and grumbled, “You going to keep staring at it or take it?”

Yup, and there was the Zoro you’d grown to know and loathe.

“It just burns you up inside to be so helpful, doesn’t it?”

Your voice oozed with sarcasm as you took his hand - maybe a bit too aggressively - and started to get up. Zoro saw your passive-aggressive hand smack and did you one better. He pulled you quickly to your feet, but that quickness came at the cost of your balance. Your feet couldn’t catch their footing back on the deck and you ended haphazardly colliding into his chest.

As fast as it happened, it was equally as fast that you both dislocated yourselves from each other.

“Is everybody okay?”

“I think so.”

“No. Not okay. Not even close to okay.”

“I second, Usopp,” you said.

You weren’t sure why you raised your hand. It could’ve been you just really needed them to know that no - no, this was definitely not okay.

Luffy took your concerns with a grain of salt, however, and ran over to the cannon - the only cannon - on deck. You’d only just meet him, but Luffy didn’t strike you as someone who held onto any ill will. So, you were surprised to see the determination burn in his eyes and the scowl to cross his face.

What did your grandpa do to you?

If you weren’t mortally in danger of drowning at any minute or being shredded in half by a cannonball, you might have asked.

“Usopp! Fire back at them!”

“Or how about we sail away as fast as we can?”

“I like that idea, actually,” you chimed in, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “That’s a solid plan if I ever heard one, Usopp.”

“Run from the marines?”

Luffy looked between the three of you. He couldn’t believe that Usopp, Nami, and you were apparently so quick to not want to put up much of a fight. You did enjoy not being a sea decoration.

“No. Never! Nami trim the…sail thing. Let’s sink their ship!”

“Wait, what? Are you crazy?”

You had to back up to stand next to Zoro as Luffy waved for Usopp to join him on the stern. The two of them grabbed a hold of the cannon to bring it towards an opening in the back.

“Let’s sink their ship.”

“Luffy, we don’t have time for this!” Nami interjected, but Luffy wasn’t listening. “They’re going to come up alongside us! If they do, we are finished.”

“Our odds keep sounding better and better,” you mumbled as you made your way over to Nami.

“You are our Navigator. Do something.”

Nami let out a groan before her whole demeanor changed. No longer was she trying to flee or get Luffy to see reason. Suddenly, she turned to Zoro and ordered him to go down and pull the sheet in. He didn’t waste a second before he brushed past you and down the stairs.

You waited for her to order you to do something, anything, but she must have known it would’ve been like explaining math to a baby. You didn’t even know what she’d even just asked Zoro to do. Apparently, neither did he.

“Which way is port?”

A heavy sigh left her as she shouted back, “It’s the left!”

“Have you ever loaded a cannon before?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve loaded tons of them,” Usopp replied coolly.

You had to give Usopp props. He was literally the master of bullshit and could keep a straight face even though you both knew the only thing he loaded was his imagination.

“This is just a different model I’ve never seen before.”

“Usopp, you load the cannon in the barrel. Light it and then get the hell out of the way!”

Following Nami’s directions, Usopp rushed forward towards the barrel. You thought he was going to make it when the ball slipped out of his hand and landed with a heavy thud on the deck. You rushed forward to grab it before it rolled down the stairs, but didn’t notice Usopp rushing to join you in the hunt. What neither of you failed to notice was that the vibration from dropping the cannonball dislodged the others.

In a split second, you and Usopp collided into one another and when you stepped back to stand up your heel caught a ball. You had barely enough seconds to lean yourself forward as you slipped down the stairs, taking each stair with a thud just like the cannonballs.

Your knees slammed into the edge of one of the stairs, but the balls under your hips kept you slipping. You tried bending your knees to slow your descent only to have them successfully bump every step on the way down.

“Oh shit, Doc are you okay?” Usopp shouted down after you.

“I’m fantastic,” you grunted as you came to a stop before the last steps.

You weren’t trying to remove yourself from the stairs. You could feel the pain in your knees growing with each passing second. You were willing to bet when you stood up, that dull throb that was beginning to resonate under your skin would shoot out like lightning the minute you stood up. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten who was at the bottom of the stairs with you.

“Are you going to get up anytime soon or do you enjoy just laying there?”

You were ready to tell Zoro where he could shove his swords when a gruff voice you’d never heard cut over the chaos.

“Pirate vessel, by order of the marines, lower your sails and submit to my authority.”

You were willing to bet a million berries if that man wasn’t Luffy’s grandpa that wouldn’t even be an offer on any table. Ever. The sound of Zoro’s boots coming closer caused you to peel yourself up just enough before he - did he really just step over you?

“Oh, you asshole,” you seethed.

You scrambled to your feet to chase after him when you noticed another cannonball headed straight for the Merry. But where was the sound of the gunpowder? What felt even more unbelievable was what came after.

Sure, Luffy told you he’d eaten a Devil fruit. He’d told you his body was made of rubber but seeing was believing. You watched as Luffy began to inhale air and his body blew up like a…balloon. Luffy was becoming an actual balloon of skin until the cannonball landed in the center of his stomach. He took the entire impact and flung it back at the marine vessel. One minute, you could hear the return fire whistling through the air. The next, you watched as the crow’s nest above the mast exploded and seconds later it came crashing down.

Everything grew silent aboard the Merry as you all registered what you’d just witnessed. You were still staring at Luffy and back to the now very much on fire marine ship when Usopp’s surprised laughter cut through the silence.

“That was amazing! You just saved us!”

“You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

You could feel your own smile slide across your face as the adrenaline began to bleed away. The aftershocks of the thrill of battle - no matter how unsuccessful - left you feeling ready to do it all again. Or take a nap.

You were joining in on the laughter as you looked back at Nami, and at Usopp who was jumping in excitement with Luffy. You looked over at Zoro and found your earlier excitement drained from your body. Sure, you’d seen him smirk and look like the grumpy cat who ate the canary, but you’d never seen him smile.

Sometime during the battle the wind had tussled up his hair making him appear like he’d just woken from a nap. It made him softer, less broody, and the grin that lit up his face actually reached his eyes and scrunched his nose.

It was safer in the village.

You wanted to say the thought was because of what had just happened. Even as Luffy ordered Nami to get you out of the area, you knew it wasn’t because of the danger. Hell, as much as it was a mess of a first battle, the adrenaline of it all was demanding for a release. Maybe you’d be able to use that as an excuse for why your heart was beating so wildly as you watch Zoro run a hand through his hair.

The ship suddenly felt too constricting. It didn’t allow enough space between you and the swordsman who resided on this ship. You tried to shake your head clear of all those thoughts and turned to run after Luffy. You called his name as you carefully took the stairs down after him.

“Something wrong, Doc?”

“No, no,” you waved him off. “I just - I wanted to ask a favor.”

“You can ask me for anything.”

You weren’t sure if you would ever get over how genuine Luffy was. Every word he said to you he meant it. You could probably tell him you needed the sun, and whether physically attainable or not, you knew Luffy would try his absolute best to bring it to you.

Because Luffy was just that kind of Captain.

“Would it be a bother if we stopped at an island? I’m in need of some supplies.”

———————

Luffy didn’t hesitate to say yes to your request to stop at Irkhaven. It only took you all of four seconds to explain what it was, where it was, and why you needed to go before he sent you to Nami to give her the coordinates. While you’d never physically gone with Naan to harvest the ingredients you’d grown up using, she made sure to tell you often how to get there.

Just in case the day came she couldn’t.

What you hadn’t expected as you walked through fields of lavender was to have Zoro trailing behind you.

“How much longer are we going to be out here?”

“Until I have enough of everything to last us a while,” you called over your shoulder.

You didn’t need to look behind you to know Zoro was shooting daggers into the back of your skull. While he hadn’t been happy being volunteered to go with you onto the island, he hadn’t argued with Luffy either.

You stopped midway out of the lavender fields and took out your small knife to begin cutting gently through the stems. After you had a good enough bundle, you sheathed the knife back in its place on your satchel where you reached inside to grab a pre-cut piece of string.

You could still feel Zoro watching you, as you tied the lavender together in a tight bundle.

“I wasn’t aware picking flowers was life-saving medicine.”

This time you did look over at him. Zoro, the strong and proud pirate hunter. The demon, Luffy said was his nickname. Looking at Zoro now, even in an endless field of lavender, he resonated power. You held no doubt he had earned such an intimidating name through grit and blood-soaked swords.

He looked out of place next to you in a place meant for healing and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was more what he projected than who he was. While Luffy told you happily about the scary parts of Zoro (which Luffy by no means actually saw as scary) he’d also mentioned Zoro never went without a specific sword.

Remembering Luffy’s words, your eyes quickly darted down to the white-sheathed katana. If you had to put money on it, that was the one that held a deeper meaning to him. It was the one he clutched the tightest and his hand fell on absentmindedly.

Once you knew the bundle was secure, you playfully poked it in his direction.

“It does heal. It calms the mind and spirit. It creates restful sleep.”

“It stinks.”

“You are absolutely impossible,” you grumbled, your eyes rolling as you turned away from him.

You placed the bundle inside your satchel and started forward. You didn’t need to look back to know that Zoro would be behind you. This time you were leading him towards an eyeline of trees you’d spotted a few feet back. They looked promising to hold green chiretta.

“So, why did Luffy send you with me?”

You came out first from the field and onto a path that was being taken over by the vegetation.

“Because you don’t know how to protect yourself.”

“I can too.”

“A pot doesn’t count.”

You spun on your heels, satchel swinging, and caught it with your forearm just before it swung into your hip. You were pleased to see the unexpected action had caught him by surprise. Not the typical surprise that Usopp, or others, gave where it might be exaggerated or a gasp and step back. No, Zoro’s was the briefest flinch in the corner of his eyes. Blink and you would’ve missed it.

“Hey, that pot kicked ass.”

“You got lucky.”

“Okay, Mosshead, then what do you call this?”

You lightly tapped your cheek to indicate the very noticeable bruise that was just beginning to fade from his left cheek.

“I call that luck.”

You let out a huff as you turned and faced forward. Leading him towards where you needed to go and reminding yourself that you needed to focus on the task at hand. Not Zoro.

“You carry a knife with you but you don’t use it.”

He stated it as a fact. Not a question. Zoro already knew that it wasn’t used for self-defense.

“I use it to treat and clean infected wounds and forage for ingredients.”

“But not for self-defense.”

You found yourself whirling on him again and this time he was prepared. His hand resting on the edge of his sword and hand infamously tucked inside his pocket.

“I’m a doctor, Zoro. I follow Naan’s oath to never do harm to anyone-“

“And what if to help someone - yourself - it meant that you had to take a life to save theirs?”

He’d taken a step towards you. His whole body radiated with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for. You could feel your muscles straining to stay in place; to not retreat. Zoro had closed what space you’d had between the two of you until all he’d left were a few measly inches.

“I try not to let it come to that.”

“You don’t always get to decide like that, it's not how the world works. You keep thinking like that and you’re going to be a liability.”

Your eyes narrowed in on him and you felt yourself get on your tippy toes without thinking. Your index finger pressed into his stupidly hard chest as you looked up at him.

“It is not a liability to give a shit about people, Zoro. To care about who they are with their own wants and dreams. What makes someone a liability is not knowing who is worth that effort and who isn’t.”

You dropped back down onto your heels and turned to stomp your way into the trees. What did he know? So, you weren’t exactly a swordsman or incredibly stretchy, and while Usopp wasn’t necessarily the bravest man on the planet he was a damn fine shot. Nami could kick ass and was the best navigator. What did you bring to the table?

No. You wouldn’t let him make you think that way.

You hadn’t realized you’d gone farther than intended into the forest of trees until you noticed not only the green chiterra growing all over the sides of them, but also what looked like gold cap mushrooms. One that you knew to be poisonous.

You put it in the back of your mind. You weren’t here to get things to harm people. That wasn’t who you were and you wouldn’t let this newfound journey, or anyone, change that. You unsheathed your knife from your satchel and started carefully scraping off the moss from the bark of the tree.

“I could train you.”

Those four words stopped you mid-scrap. It had been roughly a few minutes - only a few - since you’d both been silent. You expected the rest of your time out here collecting ingredients to go relatively dull with you both pouting in your respective corners. Out of everything you could’ve expected, those four words were most definitely not it.

“Huh?”

God, you really needed to get it together.

Zoro grunted out a, “Fuck me,” before he gave you his full attention.

“I said I could train you. If you want.”

Was it possible that Zoro, the demon pirate hunter, was nervous? You couldn’t believe it, and for that exact reason you didn’t think twice about it. However, you couldn’t pass up the chance to tease him. Just a little.

“Did Roronoa Zoro - the demon pirate hunter - just offer to teach me how to kick ass?”

This whole entire trip was turning into one unexpected thing after another. The last thing you would’ve thought you would earn from your teasing was a grimace, maybe a smirk if you were lucky. Instead, your words generated an actual smile from the demon himself and you were devastated.

“I thought you said you never heard of me?”

Oh, right. He was talking and he needed you to word back. Right. You could do that.

“Luffy,” your voice cracked on your captain's name and you pretended to cough to clear your throat. “Luffy was telling me about the first time you guys met. It was truly a riveting moment.”

“Okay, let’s back up,” you began, your fingers motioning like a wheel. You’d been sitting with Luffy at the table eating breakfast. What had come over you to ask about how he met Zoro was still currently pending investigation. Luckily for you, Luffy wasn’t going to question you on why you wanted to know. “Did you just say you met him tied up inside the marine yard?” “He’d given himself up. Never told me exactly why he’d done that actually.” Luffy was perplexed for all of a millisecond before he sank his teeth back into the dry meat in his hand. “Oh, well I’m sure he was happy you let him down.” “Actually, he told me to get lost.” Yup, you were choking on a piece of toast. Luffy just stated it like it was useless information. Not that his first mate didn’t tell him to essentially fuck off during their first meeting. “He told you to get lost?” “Yeah, he did.” “So, why did you even bother staying there? You could’ve just left.” A smile began to grow on his lips. It wasn’t his usual radiant one that could rival the sun, but a thoughtful one. It told you the memory of meeting Zoro meant something special to Luffy, and it made you regard the interaction a little less harshly. “I couldn’t just leave him there. Not when he has a dream to fulfill.” While you were still debating on whether Luffy was a real person, there wasn’t any denying that he searched for the good in people. Whatever it was he’d seen in Zoro told Luffy he was a good guy. “So,” you drawled out the o, “he told you to get lost and for some reason your brain heard those words as, ‘follow your dreams’.” “He isn’t a bad guy, Doc. I know Zoro is more than just a pirate hunter with a scary nickname. He is someone with a dream, just like you, and I’m going to make sure he reaches it.”

Looking at Zoro now, you could see what Luffy saw in him. Sure, he was quick to anger and even more quick to say shit without thinking it through, but who wasn’t at times? You had experienced first hand the good that lived inside of him.

He’d helped you when he didn’t have to when you were sick. He shared a part of himself, a small part but still a part, to see who he was underneath all the attitude. While you weren’t in the business of hurting anyone, you debated on whether letting him train you would at least make you useful enough to save other members of your crew - maybe Zoro - if something came up.

You did hit someone with a pot and punch Zoro in his face. What could learning a few moves going to do?

“Alright, demon pirate hunter, I’ll consider it.”

—————————

He wanted to throttle Luffy.

The way you kept looking at him - saying his nickname - was stirring something foreign in his chest. He may not know exactly what it was but he didn’t have too. His body was telling him plainly he should take back his invitation to spend more time alone with you. You were only going to get in the way of his goal.

All of those made sense why he should retract his invitation and head back to the Merry. And yet…

“If it pumps up your ego, I’ll say it as many times as you like. For a price.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and it was so unexpected Zoro wanted to laugh. His offer to help train you had been in the back of his mind, but when he went to offer it, it’d gone rougher than he’d intended. He hadn’t meant to make you feel bad - to call you a liability. It wasn’t that he thought you would be an actual liability for Luffy.

You were a liability for him.

The way you were looking at him now, the smile on your face, gave him all the warning he needed to know you were a dangerous wildcard. He’d made a promise to Kuina and you felt like the one thing that could keep him from it.

Whatever the feelings you were stirring in him were something he needed to be wary of. Zoro wasn’t going to have any of it. He made a promise a long time ago and he wasn’t going to let you or anyone else get in the way of him keeping it.

He was so lost in thought that he wasn’t aware you’d gotten so close. It wasn’t until your fingers slid over his ear, placing something behind it, that he was jolted back into the present.

“Oh, shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Your voice was breathy and sweet with your wide eyes looking up at him with something dangerously close to reverence. Close like at the dinner table. Close like when he’d tumbled out of the well and landed on top of you. Zoro still had the way your body felt under him burned into his memory. One he’d tried to erase with the bottles of liquor that now sat empty inside his room.

His hand moved up to feel what you’d placed behind his ear, and his fingertips were greeted by the soft give of flowers.

“Did you seriously just put flowers in my hair?”

Your response was maddening. Zoro watched as you brought your hands up to join your shrug, as if he wasn’t standing there, flowers now pinched between his fingers.

“I think you look cute.”

Cute.

“Yeah. That’s not me.”

In a show that it wasn’t him, that you and your stupid flower giving were just another nuisance, he opened his fingers and let them fall to the ground. Zoro watched as your eyes that had been brimming with sunshine were darkened by clouds of sadness. Even your earlier giddy step was replaced by slouched shoulders that suddenly looked as if the world weighed heavily on them.

“Okay.”

Your reply was meek. If he wasn’t straining to hear it he would’ve missed it. You didn’t give him another glance or yell at him for being an ass. That was what he had expected; what he was still waiting for. Zoro had known you for a couple of days and within that time came to learn you were the most maddening person he’d ever met - second to Luffy. This? He didn’t like this. He liked it better when you fought back. When you told him what an asshole he was and when you touched him without thinking.

Zoro watched as you went back to gently maneuvering your knife under the bark; skilled hands that removed pieces of that weird-looking fungus. You pulled an empty glass from your bag and, with the same gentleness, pushed it past the lip of the bottle to hold it inside.

Cute.

That’s what she’d called him.

I am not cute. I’m the demon pirate hunter, Roronoa Zoro.

He could feel his jaw flexing at the thought. Cute. Zoro has been called many things in his life, but cute was never one of them. His hand clenched and unclenched on the Wado Ichimonji as if asking - begging - what he should do.

He couldn’t stay here much longer. Zoro didn’t know what to say and you obviously had no intention of speaking to him anytime soon.

“Fuck this,” he whispered as he stalked off back out of the trees.

He made it to the edge of the clearing where the sun fully broke free from the shade of leaves when you called to him.

“Try not to get lost, Zoro. We both know you’ve got shit directional

skills.”

He refused to admit he was happy to hear you say something. Even if that something was your usual shit-talking. Zoro grunted as a reply and quickly went back to walking out of the clearing when something - small and pure white - caught his eye out of his peripherals.

It was huddled against the bark of a tree. Its petals were open and stark against the darkness. It took him a moment to recognize those white petals. What he found amusing was how the flower always seemed to be carrying its own weight on its shoulders; the neck of it dropping down like it’d just received devastating news. Zoro didn’t know why he gently plucked it from its resting spot. He couldn’t explain why after that he turned to head back in your direction.

Zoro was trying to get away from you and here he was bringing a fucking flower back. You turned at his approach, your mouth already forming over some word. You never spoke what it was you wanted to say and you didn’t seem like you wanted to try either.

Zoro placed the snowdrop behind your ear. Perfectly placing it to where the hanging bulb hugged the top of your ear to hang against your hair.

“You left to go find flowers?”

Zoro shook his head. He stepped back just enough to see how it looked. He was a dumbass for doing this.

“No, I was going to head back to the ship-“

“Figures-“

“When I saw this snowdrop by itself,” Zoro continued over you. “It made me think of you.”

“That feels oddly specific.”

He didn’t like how you were looking at him. More accurately, he didn’t like how you looking at him was making him feel.

“It’s a snowdrop. They’re one of the most delicate flowers in the world.”

There it was. The darkening of those previous clouds now cracked to life with the spark of your anger. Zoro had to admit, he enjoyed getting you all riled up. What he wouldn’t tell you, is because they only grew at certain times and usually in the snow, it made them one of the most resilient flowers because they could grow under any conditions.

“Are you calling me delicate?”

A huff left him as his eyes rolled up into the treeline.

“I was trying to apologize earlier.”

“Oh.”

You’d started all that storm building just to deflate but also-

“You sure have a way with words,” he teased.

“My bedside manner is not the best, I’ll admit. I once told a dying man a joke about a pirate and marine having an entanglement. Naan said it probably wasn’t the most appropriate time.”

For some reason, Zoro could picture it. A man dying and you, being your nervous self, trying to make him laugh to ease his passing. The thought of it alone made a smile curl at his lips, and he tried to gently shake it away. To look at anything else but you.

“What do I gotta do to hear one of these world-famous Doc jokes?”

He waited until his face was neutral to look back at you. Both hands rested on his swords as he watched you fill the bottle to the brim and place it securely inside your satchel.

“For that kind of service? You have to be dying.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You were a pain in the ass. A pain in his ass. From the moment he met you until now and probably would continue to be. A pain that made him think of things outside of his goal. You made him think past his promise. Who was he if he didn’t keep it? He should’ve never offered to train you or willingly spend more time with you. He was going to have to take it back. It didn’t matter if it hurt your feelings or made you hate him. Maybe that’s what he needed to do to make you hate him-

“What are you doing?”

Zoro prayed that his face was devoid of any emotion. The panic that bloomed in his chest didn’t spread to where you could see. You’d placed your hand over your chest in a way Zoro knew too well.

“I,” it was the first time Zoro ever heard your full name. “Promise to be the biggest pain in your - Roronoa Zoro’s ass - from now until whenever.”

For the second time, his hand was clutching onto the Wado Ichimonji today. While you spoke, Zoro could swear he saw flashes of Kuina standing behind you. The look of disappointment growing on her face.

“You made a promise.”

Zoro couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t trust what he would say. So, he simply turned back on his heel and made a beeline back for the edge of the trees. This time when he reached it he didn’t stop. He had to get back to the safety of the ship where he could barricade himself from you behind wooden doors and booze because Zoro could really use a drink.

————————-

It has been two days inside the fog. Two days of Zoro avoiding you like you carried the plague back with you from Irkhaven.

When you’d made that promise it was only meant to be good fun. You replayed over in your mind to see if you’d said something wrong - done something wrong to warrant the sudden extreme cold shoulder.

Besides the time you’d been with Nami and Usopp, all of you shared thoughts about the naval battle that had happened and, who could forget, his very real vice-admiral of a grandpa. Who could launch cannonballs like paperweights. After that, Zoro didn’t come around you or close to you.

Sure, you would see him when he lounged on the deck napping like a cat in open spots. Hell, if Zoro wasn’t sleeping he was either drinking or training. You’d catch glimpses of him on the upper deck lifting weights with his arms and, sometimes, his mouth.

The first time you saw him lifting eighty pounds with his teeth, you had about a thousand questions racing through your mind. If you thought he would answer you if you spoke, you might have asked him.

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It shouldn’t have even mattered whether he talked to you or not, but he’d offered to train you. Why bother asking to do something that required his time if he wasn’t willing to give it? These sorts of questions had been your own personal plague since he’d begun to give you the cold shoulder.

You’d been sitting with your legs hanging out of the side of where the cannonball had blown an unfortunate hole through the Merry’s railing. It killed you to see her so broken; her intricate leafling design ruined all because of what felt like a family spat. Letting out a sigh, you pulled your legs out from over the side with a hand holding onto the rail so you didn’t fall into the sea.

Once you were securely standing without fear of going overboard, you wrapped the leather cord that secured the pages of your journal around it. You were just finishing up tucking it in when Usopp began to shout, “I see something.”

How anyone could see anything in this mess was beyond you, but then again Luffy was at the front of the Merry using his nose to guide you guys out of the fog so…yeah. Stranger things could and did happen.

It was enough to garner your attention and bring you walking up to join the rest of the crew that had assembled.

“I see nothing,” you stated.

“I don’t know how anyone could see anything in this soup,” Nami agreed as she stirred the ship in the direction Luffy called.

“You guys don’t see the red lights? How can you not see them?”

“Because, Usopp, I don't have eyes like an Eagle.”

You could feel the happiness your comment brought him as he continued to point in the direction of said light.

“Just keep your eyes posted right here in the center and you’ll see it, Doc.

“3 degrees starboard, Nami and keep it straight.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t sit up there Luffy,” you called up to where he sat, legs wide, on the Merry’s headpiece. “What happens if you slip?”

“You're his crew mate. Not his mother. He doesn’t need you coddling him.”

You turned to find Zoro standing a few feet behind Usopp. He wasn’t looking at you but he’d just spoken to you. His first words in two days and it didn’t surprise you in the least they were his usual asshole tone.

“Oh, so he can speak. What a shocker.”

Zoro side-eyed you but still refused to acknowledge your presence. The soft bruise that was there two days ago at Irkhaven was all but a faded memory. You were tempted to make it a fresh one.

“Okay you two let’s focus on-“ Usopp stopped mid-sentence as his eyes scanned over something in the distance. “What’s a baratie?”

You looked where he was and finally saw it. Red neon was bleeding its way into the fog. It was enough to make you forget about Zoro, your lack of clean clothes, or what had happened the last couple of days. It was land. You were finally going to actually put your feet down on something solid that wasn’t just the Merry.

Nami stirred the Merry in and easily parked it at the next available dock. Immediately, people rushed out to begin tying the ship's ropes to posts to secure it in place.

“Is it just me or does this look like a restaurant?”

You meant your question to be open-ended. To allow anyone to answer in case what you were seeing was in fact a floating restaurant in the middle of the ocean. However, you were leaning against the rail next to Nami, with whom you pressed arm and arm.

“I think it is.”

You were all still staring over the railing when Luffy asked excitedly, “Do you guys know what this means?”

“We stock up on supplies and keep going so the marines can’t find us?”

“We head back to Syrup village where it’s safe?”

“No - let’s go eat!”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You didn’t have much in the way of something to wear at an establishment like this. You were willing to bet you couldn’t just walk in wearing - or smelling - like you all did. You were getting ready to tell Luffy you’d hang back on the ship when you felt a hand gently wrap itself in yours.

Glancing down at your interwoven hands and back up, you found Nami, her lips together in a soft smile, as she gave you a light tug to follow her.

“Come on. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

You let out a raspberry, your hand squeezing hers briefly in relief.

“Nami, you are a lifesaver.”

“That fish better have a bar.”

You weren’t going to say it out loud, but you agreed with Zoro. You were going to need the blissful ignorance of alcohol to make it through a dinner where you possibly ended up sitting next to him.

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

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

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

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luffyvace · 24 days

Text

The Luffy Package ☠️📦

(General & relationship headcanons as well as Luffy quotes (relationship implied) for his big day!!)

had to go all out for my fav 😊🤭

General Luffy headcanons:

Luffy has nails so short dirt can’t get under it 😭

not necessarily the booty diggers 🤭

but just really short, like almost booty digger ig—but not it

he has like 1% nail

its not intentional, they just never grow

i have a feeling someone taught luffy how to dance

idk who

it was likely makino, shanks or some else he cares deeply about

but he learned early on and has been a great dancer ever since!

maybe at parties since they happen a lot in one piece ⭐️

But just because someone taught him doesn’t mean he was awful at dancing at first

maybe he was a natural!

feel the rhythm typa thing 🎶 🕺

it’d be funny if he was

cuz imagine a guy that can dance but can’t sing

how you gon dance on beat to a out of tune song?? 😭

at least to uta anyway

ive always loved Luffy’s singing‼️

he never thinks about what the one piece is

but would be the most disappointed if it isn’t something cool

this dude is NOT interested in books so if the one piece really is just joyboy’s tale i don’t think he’ll be satisfied..😭 (I’m talking about the theory)

he definitely wouldn’t say it was all for nothin tho

he still has nakama, treasure and is the pirate king!! 👑

but…the one piece as books is just a mega L for him

Robin will enjoy ♡

you know that thing he does where he stretches his face real big? Like the time he was tryna cheer nami up when she was sick? And it scared vivi and zoro?

he scared himself when he first realized he could do that too

he was bored and started messing around with his devil fruit

at first he was outside and he stretched his mouth, and when realized he could see inside it, he was like ‘I wonder what this looks like’

so he went inside and did it into a mirror

he somehow managed to trash the whole bathroom running away from his reflection

he quickly got over it and realized it was kinda funny

he showed Ace and sabo who also found it terrifying

then preceded to scare people with it ever since

d end! :)

I feel like he’s thought about what the ‘D’ in his name stands for too

He came up with a bunch of outrageous names that likely aren’t it..

”Dingus?”

”Donkey?”

”Demarto?”

”Doorbell?”

”Dinosaur?”

yeah, dinosaur seems the most plausible 😊

Luffy Dinosaur Monkey!

‘HEY THAT SOUNDS COOL 🤩’

yup, that’s probably what it stands for 😁

sneaks into the usopp factory whenever he’s not in there

he ends up playing with his creations and destroys, it, other projects, and the factory altogether in the progress

he then runs out laughing

usopp later returns to the ruins only to find his months work of his greatest creation yet named “ultimate captain usopp three thousand smasher” has been reduced to fragments of metal nothing ☺️

listen idk if oda has confirmed Luffy’s favorite color but I would say it’s none

why? The same reason why you can’t ask a toddler their’s, it’s just gonna constantly change and you know it’s not the truth

arguably, if I had to pick an actual color based off canon, (IK it’s a shade but wtv) it’d be white

why? wym? Don’t you remember that one ep where luffy sang a song about how he loves snow cuz it’s so white?

(one of his lesser talked about songs 😭💗)

Relationship Luffy headcanons:

Luffy as a partner is really rambunctious and loving

But do note that loving doesn’t always mean romantic

for him it means loving you a lot but not being lovey dovey when showing it

you need protecting? He’s on the case!! He can’t and he has to beat someone up? One of your nakama’ll do it so stay with them!

your strong? Perfect! He’s gonna go fight this guy so you go beat up that one!

why am I mentioning that? Because it shows he has a great sense of trust and faith in you

Of course he does with all his friends but your reasoning is different

not only are you his nakama, your also his partner!! Which means he loves you in a intimate way!! Not just platonically

I say “just” because I swear sometimes Luffy’ll feel like a friend with you (best friends and lover typa thing 💞) he’s just as goofy and chaotic with you as he is Usopp and chopper

he feels extra lively when around you and always wants to play, whether you like this or not. Your personality depends a lot on how your relationship with him is but I won’t dabble into that today because it’s his birthday. 🎉 but honestly it doesn’t matter if you punch him like nami or laugh like brook-

he’s still gonna bug you! 💖 seriously you can’t get rid of this dude 🤨 Luffy will drag you on every single one of his adventures so I hope your either brave or fearless like him. The only time you two separate and he allows it is when he’s fighting the boss type thing LOL. Like Doflamingo or smth.

that said Luffy isn’t clingy he just likes being around you and seeing what your doing. Especially when you haven’t landed on an island yet and he’s bored. He’s always singing, playing with your face (ironic cuz he’s the stretchy one) or trying to get you to play some silly game he made up

that usually somehow manages to tick everyone off. 🤷‍♀️

will grab your hands randomly and make you dance to some song he made up about literally anything he sees or feels

he even made one about YOU once :3

”OOOOOHHH your my partner! Yes my partner! We’re having lots of fun! Going on adventures- YAHOO!! And dancing a ton! We’ll dance all arcross the grand line!! Take your hats off and let them fly!! YIPPIE!! We’re having a graaaaand TIIIIIIIME!” 😁🕺

Luffy quotes: (implied relationship between you two)

”HEY LOOK DO YOU SEE THAT ISLAND!! Cmoncmoncmoncmoncmoncmon!! HURRY UP I WANNA GO EXPLORING!!”

”can you sneak in the kitchen and steal some food from sanji? I’m really hungry and he won’t let me in anymore!!”

”LETS HAVE A PARTY!!!” — “we don’t need a reason! CMON!’ CHEERS!”

”lets tame that thing and make it our pet!!”

”what should we name em?” — “Junpi? SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!!” (You didn’t get a chance to respond 💕)

”HEY LOOK A RESTAURANT!! Grab on I’ll rocket us there!! HURRY UP IM HUNGRYYY!!”

”hey! Do you have any food on you?? I’m hungry!”

”Liar!! I can smell it!!”

”take a bath?! I don’t stink!!— EUGH!- okay yeah maybe….but I don’t wanna take a bath!! I’ll get all tired!”

”I’ll leave you with that guy! So go kick some butt! I’ll deal with that red forehead guy!!” (AN: There’s no actual red forehead guy that’s canon, I made it up 👍)

”⁉️ HEY WHAT HAPPENED?! Did that guy beat you up?! I’ll send him flying!! 💢”

”Shishishishi! Shh! Watch this! I’m gonna drop this on Usopp’s head! 🤭😂”

”Lets play a gaaaaame!! I’m so bored! 😞”

”can I have some of your food?” *Already stuffing a piece in his mouth* (the point is it’s not the whole thing ⁉️😱)

”HE LOOK MY BOUNTY WENT UP!! 🤩🤩‼️“

”Isn’t this fun?! 😆” (having a near death experience)

”don’t worry! My injuries don’t hurt at all! See? I’m dancing! I’m having fun!”

”oops. Sorry.”

”look!” (Two chop sticks stuffed up his nose and mouth)

”WOAHH A MAN KILLING BEAR!! LETS GO CHECK IT OUT! 🤩” (even if you wanted to say no your already being hoisted over there because you weren’t running fast enough for him)

”plan? Never mind that!! Let’s go! We’re gonna kick that butt head guys’ butt!!” (AN: another fictional villain I made up on a whim)

”HOLD ON TIGHT” (Gum Gum Rockets with hardly any warning)

”let’s play a game!! It’s called steal zoro’s swords without waking up zoro!! 😁”

”nyop!” (Puts you atop his shoulders 💓)

”nyop!” (Jumps on your back almost knocking you over 💝)

”look at my disguise! Nobody will suspect us! 😎👍”

”Cmere!” (Pulls you into his lap)

”HI! Is it almost time for dinner yet?” (Plops down in your lap)

Thanks for supporting me and my work—as well as my random disappearances too 💗🤗

Everyone! Say it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUFFY‼️‼️

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ooffmlsorry · 7 months

Text

One Piece Men Take You on a Nice Vacation

A/N: Well I did a poll and y'all definitely wanted this! Let's be serious so did I. I so desperately wanna go on vacation and leave my cares behind for a week. Alas, my imagination is all I've got 😔

Characters: Monster trio, Law, Koby

ZORO

Vacation? Did you forget who your boyfriend is? Zoro is the epitome of "No days off 😤"

I think what's more likely is y'all ended up getting lost together and it turns into an impromptu vacation

But that doesn't mean it isn't nice to essentially go camping together

You're incredibly lucky, there's a nice waterfall and river, the weather stays beautiful and the nights are crisp and clear

Once you convince him it's better to stay put and wait for the others to finally find you, it becomes a really relax retreat

Zoro still insisting on training, but that's a given. You probably train with him sometimes since you're dating, but otherwise it's the longest uninterrupted peace you've had since joining the crew

Just imagine sitting together with your feet in the cool river water, fishing in comfortable silence. The two of you wade in the stream together and splash each other, cook what you caught, cuddle around the campfire, and look up at the stars at night just talking

The privacy is perfect because it allows you two connect without worrying about any of the your crew mates

Zoro's even admittedly a little surprised by how much he enjoys being alone with you (it definitely gives him thoughts about what your future together could look like)

It's something the two of you look back on incredibly fondly, and if you happen to get lost on an island again...maybe for once Zoro did it intentionally

SANJI

This man is so serious about taking you a vacation, it's the time of your life

He's such a mom though lol. He cooks a shit ton before he leaves with you so the crew can reheat it and still have nutritious meals while their cook is away

He owes Nami so much berri, but since it's for a romantic vacation with you, the interest isn't too bad 🤭

I'd imagine it's somewhere with lots to do and lots to see like Gran Tesoro or Sabaody (*ignoring how fucked they are in context of the story, I just mean a place like that)

Unlike something impromptu accidental like Zoro's, he's planned out everything. A spa day, mani/pedi, sightseeing, shopping, really nice dinners.

You dance around together in your hotel and watch the fireworks and the city lights at night. Not to mention Sanji looks extremely handsome in the glow of it.

He absolutely spoils you! All in the name of how much he appreciates and loves you

And for what it's worth you don't let him forget how much it means to you...whenever you're not utterly speechless. It's more like the two of you spoil each other lol

The two of you have a lot of fun together, living in your own rose-colored world

As much as this is about you, you Sanji sometimes wishes he lived in a fairy tale world and this is it. It's just the breather you both need.

LUFFY

You kind of have to explain to him what a vacation is at first because he thinks you're just asking about going on an adventure with him🤭

Once he does understand the concept, he's pretty gung ho about it! Well, the "relaxing" part of a vacation sounds kind of dull to him but going somewhere just the two of you sounds awesome!

He kind of just springs it on you. You mentioned it once in passing and then a week later you're on a random island together and the Sunny is sailing off to pick you guys up in a week

It's not really a vacation spot, it's just a normal island he's never been to before (because he still doesn't quite understand the difference between a vacation and an adventure) but it's nice. It's somewhat reminiscent of Loguetown or Mock Town

You still have a great time with it's charm and the fact that there's little to no Marines around means you get peace in that aspect

That's the only kind of peace you get though lol

The two of you go all over the place, trying different food, poking around the jungle and in shops, and possibly getting into a little bit of trouble

Every night the two of you crash and sleep in as much as you want, wake up whenever you want and eat as much and whenever you want

It's kind of like a long sleepover with no parents around to keep you in line

As fun as it is you'll probably start to miss the routine of living as a Straw Hat and Luffy's itching to get back to the open seas!

LAW

Law pales at the thought of a vacation, but he's not above it for the people he loves

It's absolutely not his idea though...He was trying to think of something nice for your birthday and the crew told him how stressed you've been lately (plus have seen him? He needs a damn break and they also want him to relax)

He has everything planned down to the minute. When you're going, where you're going, what you're doing, when you'll be back. This man has a whole goddamn itinerary prepared tailored to your wants.

I feel like you guys would go to a place reminiscent of Dressrosa or Water 7 (*again ignoring the in-story horrors lol), something with really beautiful architecture and lots of history.

That plan turns more into more like a rough guideline no he's not upset about it look away but it's okay because you both needed the rest and a little less rigidity does Law some good

It's okay to stumble into a bookstore and get lunch two hours later than you planned, you swear

You two mostly avoid the tourist traps, except the historical ones because they're pretty cool and you learn a lot. Walking down the streets, hand in hand (yes, you get Law to hold you hand in public, it's the small wins okay?)

He can't stop working entirely, but that gives you time to do a little exploring on your own...not to mention you're completely surprised by how he pulls you into his lap as soon as you return

Being alone together makes him realize how important you are to him. There's not nearly as much crowding his mind when he's on vacation and all that free space up there is filled with his love for you

He's also kind of surprised how much he likes you outside of the Heart Pirate's rigid routine. Seeing you dressed up and not prepared for the sea, but rather a nice dinner, is a shock to his system. The fact that you're pretty much two normal people and nothing is falling apart surprises him. Maybe, he thinks, the two of you should do this more often

KOBY

A/N: Koby is literally my baby boy, cuppy-cake, sugar plum, pumpkin. He's so precious. Just a perfect lil guy 🥹💞 if Law is my husband, then Koby is my son

Oh lord, he's sweating lol

You? Wanna go on vacation with him? Alone? He's so flustered! Such a big step!

But he's really happy and super excited!! He definitely has a little countdown going on on his calendar

I could definitely see you guys having a beach type vacation, somewhere with a pier/boardwalk with all kinds of games and maybe a few cheap rides too

He'd absolutely win you a prize, and even better if you beat him and win him a prize

The photo booth pictures you end up taking are so cute and he keeps them forever

You hang out on the beach and build a massive sand castle, y'all probably get a terrible sunburn or at least Koby does 🤭

And at night you take nice long walks, listening to waves and collecting shells that catch your attention

The vacation is good for you, but it's also good for him to be out of the Marine environment for a minute

He gets to enjoy the results of all of his hard work and it makes him incredibly grateful that you're by his side, and when he tells you as such it's a long stuttering speech but he makes it through

Don't be surprised that he's awake at least 2-3 hours before you but that just means he gets time to think about what you're gonna do and be completely captivated as you sleep beside him

Those photo booth pictures? He keeps them in his jacket now. Whenever he gets overwhelmed or feels homesick he'll either look at them or pat his pocket to remind himself of those moments with you

#one piece #one piece x you #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x reader headcanon #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #law x y/n #luffy x reader #koby one piece #koby x reader

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ikeromantic · 2 months

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Ikesen Boys React to Tattooed MC pt 1

This was an ask from @otomedad that I just had to write. I did some reading up on the history of tattooing in Japan and there was so much that I found super interesting. So! Here goes, starting with Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Masamune! Approx. 1500 words.

Nobunaga

“What’s this, fireball?”

You feel Nobunaga’s breath tickle your shoulder blade, his lips so close they almost brush your skin. For a moment, you don’t know what he means. It’s hard to think when parts of you are being ‘claimed’, afterall. But you smile as the memory comes back to you. Sitting on a stool, arms braced on the counter in front of you, with the buzz of the tattoo gun in your ear. “You like my koi?”

His fingers brush the inked design, tracing the outline of the leaping fish. “It is very well done.” He does not sound pleased, though he’s trying to hide it.

“You don’t.” A slight pout draws your lips out and down.

Nobunaga stills behind you, so motionless that you don’t even feel him breathing. Just as you are about to break the silence, he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest. “It is part of you, so it is beautiful.” His chin rests on your shoulder, just above the tattoo in question. “Why did you receive this mark?”

There is an unexpected tension in his voice, and you laugh to ease it before explaining. “I got it after I graduated from design. It represents my struggles, and my determination.” You turn your head to kiss his cheek.

He regards you with a serious expression, tense despite your affection.

“Do you really hate it?” You can’t help how vulnerable you feel as you meet his carnelian gaze.

“I told you. It is beautiful, as you are. But . . .” He pauses, a slight grimace crossing his expression. “I do not like that someone marked you. Someone else claimed this -” He leans back to spread his hand over the koi. “Every part of you is mine.”

“Are you jealous of my tattoo artist?” You grin, unable to hold back. “You know I picked the design and the colors and everything, right? He was just some guy with a good flash book . . .”

Nobunaga’s frown does not ease, though you know that he’s aware this is ridiculous.

You snuggle back against him. “Alright, alright. I understand. If you could do tattoos, I’d get one from you, ok?”

Something mischievous flickers in his gaze and a slight smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “Yes. This is acceptable.”

You aren’t sure what he’s accepting. Nobunaga can’t do tattoos, right? Right? Whatever questions you have disappear as his lips find that sensitive spot at the back of your neck.

Hideyoshi

You roll up your sleeves to start working on the kitchen’s herb garden. The day is warm and sunny, promising a hot afternoon. It’s a good thing you’re starting early.

About an hour into the weeding, Hideyoshi stops by with a tray of cool water and a wide straw hat. He kneels beside you. “You know it’s bad for your skin to be exposed to sunlight for so long. Even in the morning, you can’t -” He stops midword, his mouth hanging open.

“Hm?” You look up, dusting your hands off. Before you can ask anything else, Hideyoshi grabs your elbow.

“What is this?”

You realize he’s pointing at the serpent tattoo on your forearm. The snake curls over itself in a complex circle, with the head pointing at your wrist and the tale toward your elbow. “Oh! Erm,” you give an embarrassed laugh. “That.”

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” Hideyoshi holds your arm up, inspecting it. “A thief. I should have guessed. What prefecture is this? Where are you really from?” The questions come lightning fast, his usual gentle lecturing tone replaced with a hard, brittleness that does not suit him at all.

“A thief? Are you serious right now?” You try to yank your arm back, going from bewildered to angry.

Hideyoshi pulls you up to standing. “If you won’t answer my questions, maybe you’ll answer Mitsuhide’s.” He glares at you. “I can’t believe I - I called you my sister!”

You take a breath, trying to hold in the tears suddenly threatening at the corners of your eyes. Sister. Why was this man so infuriating? First putting you in the sis-zone, and now accusing you. As if you hadn’t shared so many sweet moments. Almost-kisses. Holding hands. “Why are you freaking out about my tattoo?”

“It marks you as a criminal.” He sighs, looking away. “If you’ll come clean with me, maybe we can -”

“Come clean? Hideyoshi, I told you I’m not from here. In my ah, my village, people get tattoos because they like the way they look.” You wiggle your arm in his grasp. “This one means the cycle of life. Birth and death. Look at it!”

Hideyoshi slowly turns back to examine the mark on your arm. “It is . . . very finely done for a - a punishment.” He purses his lips. “And I do not know of a prefecture that uses a snake . . .”

You nod emphatically. “Exactly. And you know me. Hideyoshi?” Your tone brings his gaze to your face.

He studies you for a moment. Then his grip loosens on your arm, the pad of his thumb stroking your inked flesh. “I may have, um, jumped to conclusions. My apologies.” A breath, then, “Sis.”

“Thanks.” You take your arm back, feelings still hurt.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. Then he drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side. “Let me apologize properly, after work tonight. Stop by after your bath and I’ll rub some oil on your arms and legs.” Hideyoshi’s cheeks hold a faint heat. “A brother should care for his sister when she’s working so hard.”

You know he knows there’s nothing brotherly in the touches you share, but you nod in acquiescence. Then you pull away. “The garden won’t weed itself,” you say.

He grins. “I suppose not.” Hideyoshi’s hand takes yours before you can take a step. “It’s nice. Your tattoo. Once I really looked at it.”

“Thanks,” you smile back, feeling a little better. “I’m looking forward to my massage tonight.” You give him a cheeky wink.

Masamune

You splash to the river’s surface, sputtering from the water in your mouth and nose. Masamune laughs beside you, his strong arm holding you up above the roiling surface of the water as the current pushes you both downstream.

“Maybe next time we should look for a bridge,” you shout to be heard over the river.

“Nah. Where’s the fun in that?” Masamune’s blue eye gleams with unfettered joy as he pulls you toward the opposite shore.

Once you hit the bank and crawl out, you flop back onto the grassy hillside. “Fun? Not drowning is fun. And now I’m soaked.” You glance over to see Masamune already stripping down, laying his clothes out to dry.

He grins when he sees your expression. “What’s the matter, kitten? Tiger got your tongue?”

“Pffft.” You sit up, ignoring the way your face heats. You shrug out of your kimono, very aware of how thin your linen underclothes are. Especially now that they are wet and clinging to your skin.

Masamune’s appreciative look does not help. He grins unapologetically. “I should come out this way more often. Great view.”

You throw a clump of grass at him and jump up to run. He chases you, laughing, and catches you pretty quickly.

His laughter stops with a sharp inhale. “Are you hurt?”

You realize that he’s noticed the ink on your side, a tiger in the midst of peonies. The red, pink, and orange probably look like a wound beneath the opaque cloth. “No, nothing like that.” You carefully tug the linen up to show him your tattoo.

“Wow.” His eye is wide as he takes in the art piece. “Gorgeous.” His calloused finger brushes the skin on your side, sending a shiver across your belly and up your ribcage. “It’s like a painting.”

“Thanks.” You feel more than a little self conscious, but also gratified by his reaction. “It’s supposed to be, like, fragility and strength? Together?” You find yourself a little tongue tied, too focused on his warm hand touching you.

Masamune finally looks up, catching your gaze. “It fits you, kitten. Strong and fragile.” His expression is more serious than you’re used to. A deeper emotion moves in the depths of his blue eye.

The urge to kiss him is strong, but you resist. You tug the cloth back down and step away, heart beating frantically. Masamune likes to flirt, you think, that’s all. You wrack your brain for a witty comment and come up empty.

He smiles, drops his hands. “Our clothes should dry out soon, and then we can continue on.”

“The temple better be awesome. You’ve talked it up too much to take anything less than.” Your destination is safer ground, you think, jumping right into the new topic.

Masamune laughs. “There’s not another like it anywhere.” Something about the way he says it makes you wonder if he means the temple you’re traveling to or something else.

“Worth the trip then?”

He catches a bit of your damp hair and twirls it around a finger. “I’d say this trip is already worth it.”

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen Hideyoshi #ikesen masamune #fanfiction #otome #fanfic #otome guys #fluff #reactions

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idle-daydreams · 4 months

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Demon King - Part 2

Shutendoji!Chuuya x Reader

Continuation of this.

Tw: Yandere, dub-con, mentions of blood, cannibalism and violence

[A.N: This got way too long, and isn't very yandere-y, imo. But its been in my head for a while, and I hope you guys like it!]

In a certain way, being the wife of the Drunken Demon wasn’t all that bad.

You’d reached this conclusion on a silent night like this one, padding through the corridors by yourself. Chuuya’s – Manor? Castle? You weren’t quite sure – was far bigger than the quarters to which you were confined, quarters that were nevertheless larger than your entire home back in your village. They were a picture of comfort: there was a massive canopied bed, piled high with the softest pillows for you to sleep on; magical lamps illuminated the place, neither dimming nor burning out no matter how long they were kept lit. A roaring fire kept you warm in the winters, and hidden vents that kept you cool in the summer. There was always food and water, fresh and clean and delicious. You had your own bath, with more running water than you could have ever used in your entire life, heated or cooled to your body temperature. Chuuya brought you books to read, parchment to paint, any manner of things to pass the time, things that you couldn’t ever have imagined owning. He’d even allowed you a garden, though you weren’t to go there in his absence. He loved to spoil you, giving you everything you could possibly ask for; he was kind, and patient, indulging your idlest whim and your most irrational desires.

The only thing he denied you was your freedom.

You sighed, sinking down upon your bed. At one time, the loneliness had frightened you. Stories of the Drunken Demon had consumed your mind, and you’d spent countless hours curled up in a corner, crying and shaking and throwing up from the sheer terror of what he would do to you. Now, you relished these moments of solitude, times when Chuuya wasn’t clinging to your waist or brushing your hair or fucking you senseless wherever he could. The bruises and love-bites littering your skin, proof of his demented love, delighted him to a frenzy. Your cheeks still burned at the memory of hours the two of you had spent locked in a tangle of limbs, lost in the throes of pleasure, worlds removed from the puritanical teachings of your wifely duties drilled into your head during your early years. As with everything else, you’d gotten used to it – that part of your ‘marriage’ had been shamefully easy to get used to – but you knew what inevitably lay next. Either Chuuya would grow tired of you... or he would impregnate you. You’d never liked the idea of children, but the thought of raising half-demon offspring filled you with dread.

How long has it been? you wondered. Weeks? Months? A year? Despite the massive windows – always shut for your safety, of course, but still allowing you a view of the walled gardens – it was difficult to gauge the passage of time, since the path of the sun and moon didn’t seem to be that consistent in the demon world. You couldn’t help but wonder: did your family miss you, or did they think you dead? If Chuuya had truly bought you from them – and despite your adamant refusals to his face, you had to admit your family would have easily sold you off – then what tale had he spun to them? What exactly had they thought of Chuuya himself?

The thought of your ‘husband’ still sent shivers down your spine. It was difficult to wrap your head around the idea of being the wife of Shuten Doji, a demon so terrifying that people had trembled at the very sound of his name. Even though Chuuya wasn’t that Shuten Doji, he was still insanely powerful: on the rare occasion that Chuuya had taken you out in public, arm wrapped firmly around your waist, you’d been awed by the sight of great and dreadful demons sinking to their knees before him, not even daring to look upon his face. You’d seen him fight, tearing apart beasts and monsters twice his size with his bare hands, a maniacal grin on his face, red marks dancing upon his skin, reminders of his power. It had been incredible to witness and terrifying to comprehend.

The sound of the door opening jolted you from your thoughts. You tensed as a pair of muscular arms wrapped around you, Chuuya’s now-familiar from pressing against your back.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he murmured in your ear. “I’m back. Did you miss me?”

“Good evening, Chuuya.” You reached up to caress his cheek. “Yes, I missed you very much.”

“Good. I missed you too.” He pressed kisses upon the side of your neck. “So, what were you doing all day? You haven’t finished that watercolor you were working on. I thought you liked that stuff.”

“I… was thinking of you.” You closed your eyes as his hands began to wander. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Chuuya molded himself to you even tighter. “I know the feeling. I can’t get you out of my head either, you know that? I love you so much, miss you so much, it’s almost annoying sometimes. Sometimes I wish I could carry you around with me, you know? Put you in my pocket so that I can look at you wherever I go. Wouldn’t you like that, [Y/N]?”

“It would be nice.” You shifted slightly, trying to put some distance between the two of you as surreptitiously as you could. He was just so close: his hands were splayed upon your belly, chest flush against your back, chin resting in the crook of your neck. Chuuya responded with a small growl, nipping at your ear.

“Stop it,” he murmured. “I haven’t seen you since this morning. You want to be with me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “But, I just, um—” Your eye fell upon the gourd of sake sitting in the corner— “I just thought you might like a drink.”

“Hm? Why not?” To your relief, Chuuya loosened his grip on you, leaning back to recline lazily on the bed. His eyes, however, followed your every movement, his gaze hungry.

“Come here,” he said as you proffered the sake to him. “You know I don’t like drinkin’ alone.”

You pursed your lips. You didn’t like the demon lord’s wine; while Chuuya claimed it wasn’t made from human blood, he also wouldn’t tell you exactly where it came from. Nevertheless, you settled into his embrace once again, allowing him to wrap an arm around you. Chuuya began playing with the sash of your kimono.

“You seem distracted tonight, [Y/N],” he said, playing with the sash of your kimono. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re usually way more sarcastic than you’re being right now. Did anything happen? Are you unhappy? Do you want something?”

“No.” You bit your lip as the silken fabric gave way all too easily under his sharp nails, allowing his hands to brush against your breast. “I’m happy to be with you. I don’t want anything right now.”

“Then drink.” He held the sake to your lips invitingly. It was rich and dark and far too potent for your liking, making your head spin with a single sip. You grabbed his wrist to stop him, making him laugh.

“Still so weak,” he said. “But you should drink more. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s what you always say. I’m starting to feel like that’s code for something.”

He set aside the gourd, lowering his head to your breasts. Slowly, with agonizing tenderness, he began suckling on the pebbled flesh, drawing a keening moan from your lips.

“C-Chuuya,” you said. “Please.”

“Please what? You want me to stop?”

“No, but—” Your breath hitched as Chuuya returned to his ministrations, fist tightening in his hair. He was good, so good, that it was almost frightening. His hands wandered your body, sending sparks dancing in their wake. You arced your back, forgetting your hesitations as your mind sank deeper into a pleasurable haze. As you let out another moan, Chuuya hummed in approval.

“I want you, [Y/N],” he mumbled against your skin. “I want you so much it hurts sometimes. You’re so beautiful, so kind, so perfect in every way. I’ve seen my fair share of princesses and noble women, but none of ‘em hold a candle to you, you know that?”

“T—Thank you.” You looked away, embarrassed by his praise. Even after the level of intimacy between the two of you, it was still difficult to talk to him. There was a wide gulf between the two of you, a gulf you didn’t think you could ever cross.

Chuuya raised himself on his forearms to look at you. Your eyes flitted to his bare chest and his well-sculpted body, a being that once had been only a dream. Heat flooded your face, pleasure and panic tangling in your chest, and his smile widened.

“You like me too, don’t you?” he purred. “Course you do. I still remember the first time I brought you here. You were so scared then, such a shy little mouse. Now you’re not so scared, are you? Now you love me.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

He chuckled delightedly, swooping to press his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll give you anything and everything you want. A slip of moonlight? A bed of gold? The heads of every man in the world laid out at your feet? All you have to do is ask.”

You gazed upon him, into his guileless, grey-blue eyes. “I want to go home,” you whispered.

Chuuya paused, sitting up. Your heart sank, and you braced yourself for the incoming onslaught of begging and accusations.

“Home,” he said flatly. “You want to go… to your human home.”

“Not because I don’t love you,” you said quickly. “But – I am a human, Chuuya. I’m not a demon like you. I can’t live locked up forever like this.”

“Neither can demons.” He reached out to trace patterns along your shoulders, his tone oddly flat. “A demon’s world is far bigger than that of any human. I could show you things, places, people you couldn’t even imagine. You know the only reason I keep you locked up is because you continue to resist me.”

“I don’t resist you,” you pointed out hopelessly. “I live with you; I sleep with you. I call myself your wife! What more do you want?”

“There is more.” Chuuya leaned in closer, a strange light in his eyes.” There is a ritual – a proper ritual to join the two of us for all of eternity. If you’d only agree to that, then we’d be mates for the rest of our lives.”

“A ritual?” You stared at him. “You mean you want to turn me into a demon?”

“Its not as bad as the humans believe.”

“I believe that too!” You pulled away, filled with a sickening dread. Some part of you had realized this, but it was horrifying to hear it from his lips nevertheless. “I’m not going to turn into a demon, Chuuya! You can’t do that to me.”

“Why not?” He laughed bitterly. “You think you’re still purely a human?”

“I’m not… changed.” Your eyes filled with tears as you met his gaze. “I may have been with you, but I’m still me.”

“And you think that’s all you’ve done?” He loomed over you suddenly, the room seeming to fill with shadows. Flickers of red ran up his face and down his chest and arms, reflecting the red in his eyes. “You’ve eaten demon food, taken a demon’s seed inside you.” He raised his arm, showing you a thin scar that ran along its length. “You’ve drank my blood.”

Your blood ran cold at the sight. “No,” you said hoarsely. “Even then, I—I’m not a demon.”

Chuuya’s mouth tightened. You shrank back, terrified, only for him to pull away abruptly. “Fine,” he said, getting off the bed. “If you want to go home so bad, then let’s go home.”

“Wait, I’m sorry!” You sat up, alarmed. “Wait, please, I–I—"

“What?” He turned to you. “I thought you wanted to see your family.”

“I do, but…”

“I’m not going to hurt them, [Y/N].” He smiled, a rictus snarl. “I promise. Now come here.”

Something in his words made your hair stand on end “Yes, m—my lord,” you said, hurrying towards him.

“I’ve told you, [Y/N].” He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a hand over your eyes. “Call me Chuuya.”

The air changed. It grew cold. The wind rustled your hair, making you blink. As Chuuya pulled his hand away, you looked around, eyes smarting from the chill in the air.

You were standing on a hill overlooking a glittering city.

“Where are we?” you asked, voice trembling.

“Don’t you recognize it?” Chuuya waved a hand at the town laid out below. “Your village.”

“But—” You took a step forward, peering down at the twinkling network of lights. “No, it’s not. My village was pretty small. That is some great city.”

“That is a small place compared to the cities of today. But maybe you need more convincing.” He grasped your hand again, and in the blink of an eye you were standing in front of a shrine. Your village’s shrine.

But it was changed. Lichen covered the gates, moss creeping through the cracks in the ground. But more than that was the tall light that stood just outside the gate, a little flat plate just beneath it.

“It – those lights,” you said. “Those are the lights from your palace.”

“They’re called electric lights, and they’re not exclusive to my palace.” Chuuya crossed his arms. “The world has moved on, [Y/N]. It’s been a couple of hundred years since I took you, give or take a decade.”

“No!” You turned to him, aghast. “No, it – you’re lying!”

“Well, you’re welcome to go down into town and ask people, if you don’t believe me. Or read that plaque over there. Or even wander the world if that’s what you want. But you’ll find that I’m tellin’ the truth. You’ve been my wife for over two hundred years now.”

“No!” You turned a full circle, scanning the scene for someone, something, to prove him wrong. Your eyes met Chuuya’s, and the pain and resignation in them made you pause. “You’re… not lying,” you said blankly.

“No.” He shook his head with a small smile. “I wouldn’t lie to you, [Y/N], it’s not my style. I’d have told you outright if your family was around – I’m not afraid of any of them, no one will ever keep you from me. But they’re not there anymore.”

“But – why?” You sank to the leaf-strewn ground, shaking, your vision blurry with tears. “Why would you do to me?”

“Because you are not listening to me.” Chuuya sank to his knees beside you, embracing you. “You’re mine. You belong to me. You were always meant to be with me. You just needed to lose everything to understand that.”

#yandere chuuya #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd imagines #yandere nakahara chuuya #bsd x reader #nakahara chuuya

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strawberry-jan · 27 days

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Back in late 2022, I started working on a long story about Ishin: a tale of two dummies whose weird one-night stand blossoms into a surprisingly caring relationship even as a (mostly) canon-compliant series of tragedies plays out around them. It’s a now-complete series in approximately 125,000 words and three parts, and you can read the whole thing right now on AO3: The Glorious and Bloody Deeds of Okita Soji, Volume 1: Okita Soji Versus the Scoundrel Saito Hajime; The Secret History of Saito Hajime, Volume 2: The Shiraume Incident; and, finally, Brief Notes on the Domestic Life of one Saito Hajime.

Taken as a whole, it's a story about identity and history and the stories that people tell each other and themselves about those things. And it's a story about one guy getting way too into weird Edo-era egg dishes, and another guy finding himself embroiled in an extended detective sequence, and a third guy composing a series of corny haiku that (almost) nobody wants to read. And, of course, it's also a story about people who are shamelessly and sometimes explicitly in love (so you probably shouldn't read it at work).

This whole big, sprawling thing has been a labour of love on my part: it turns out that I adore writing historical fiction and finding excuses to read books and journal articles in order to write it better. In addition to making not one but four little illustrations to celebrate the fic's completion (and please look at them up-close; I hand-inked all those kimono patterns), I've drawn up a list of some of the sources that I consulted for my writing, and you can find those under the cut.

This is not an absolutely exhaustive list of sources; I don’t think it’s super useful to catalogue the extremely nitty-gritty stuff, like that time that I felt compelled to find out what the state of strawberry cultivation was in 1860s Japan, or when I needed to picture exactly what it looked like when Haruka was repairing Ryoma’s kimono. That being said, I’ve added a couple of things that are really particular to my stories but that I thought were cool enough to share.

Foster, Michael Dylan. The Book of Yokai: Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore. U of California P, 2015. (This one was a really fun read – it combines a short history of yokai in folklore with a little catalogue of yokai.)

Jansen, Marius B. Sakamoto Ryoma and the Meiji Restoration. Stanford UP, 1971. (Super useful as an introduction to the Bakumatsu era and for biographical details about Ryoma and the figures around him.)

“Japanese Wiki Corpus.” https://www.japanesewiki.com/. (This is a machine-translated collection of articles on the Japanese side of Wikipedia related to Kyoto. As with a lot of things on Wikipedia, the citations on these articles tend to be poor or nonexistent, but it’s a useful starting point for information on figures and events that don’t have an English wiki equivalent. Definitely more useful if you can then head over to the original wiki articles and parse them out yourself.)

“Kabuki21” and “The Noh.” https://www.kabuki21.com/section.php, https://www.the-noh.com/en/plays/index.html. (I’m lumping these two together because I tended to consult them in tandem. Without getting too much into my personal details I am – among other things – a non-practicing theatre scholar, so whenever I wanted to have characters in my old-timey fics refer to something cultural, my first stop was old plays. These sites have, respectively, summaries of kabuki plays and full texts of Noh plays available for you to browse. If you’ve read my other fics you will probably have seen that I referred to the kabuki play “Fuwa” in 亀が如く.)

Katsu, Kokichi. Musui’s Story: The Autobiography of a Tokugawa Samurai. Translated by Teruko Craig. U of Arizona P, 1988. (A book that needs to be taken with a grain of salt because it’s an autobiography written by a guy who sounds like a real blowhard, but it’s still a really fascinating look into the daily life of a low-ranking samurai.)

Leupp, Gary P. and Tao, De-min. The Tokugawa World. Routledge, 2022. (Of particular interest is Kimura Sachihiko’s essay, “The Shinsengumi: Shadows and light in the last days of the Tokugawa shogunate” [1104-1124], which gave me a bunch of incidental details about the Roshigumi that I incorporated into the sections of this series that were told from Inoue and Hijikata’s perspectives.)

“Old Photos of Japan.” https://www.oldphotosjapan.com/. (Pretty self-explanatory. Very useful as a resource for picturing scenes!)

“Shinsengumi Archives.” https://shinsengumi-archives.tumblr.com/. (A long-running tumblr dedicated to cataloguing resources about the Shinsengumi. There’s an absolute wealth of information collected here, and best of all, the creator cites their sources and even provides links to the original texts. Although it’s focused on the Shinsengumi, it’s impossible to overstate how useful this site is for prospective Bakumatsu-era fic writers in general. The collection of Hijikata’s poems with links to others’ translations and commentary is here: https://shinsengumi-archives.tumblr.com/post/683071924948058112/hijikata-toshizos-haiku-poems. The creator of the blog also links to a translation of Nagakura’s and Shimada’s diaries, and while the document is machine-translated, it’s still a great source of historical details: https://shinsengumi-archives.tumblr.com/post/678083336614428672/where-can-you-read-the-memoirs.)

Smits, Gregory. “Warding off Calamity in Japan: A Comparison of the 1855 Catfish Prints and the 1862 Measles Prints.” EASTM 30 (2009): 9-31. (Okay, this one is highly specific to my fic – it comes up in Part 2 when Okita tells his story about Kashima and again a couple of chapters later when his pile of remedies includes a crudely-drawn picture meant to ward off indigestion – but I love little details like this so I did want to make a point of sharing it here.)

“Tamago Hyakuchin” and “Tofu Hyakuchin.” http://codh.rois.ac.jp/edo-cooking/tamago-hyakuchin/recipe/, https://toyama-tofu.jp/tofuhyakutin.html. (These are collections of Edo-era egg- and tofu-based recipes. They’re two of the sources cited in Cookpad’s collection of modernized Edo-era recipes: https://cookpad.com/recipe/list/14604664.)

Vaporis, Constantine N. “Linking the Realm: The Gokaido Highway Network in Early Modern Japan (1603-1868).” Highways, Byways and Road Systems in the Pre-Modern World. Ed. Susan E. Alcock, John Bodel, and Richard J. A. Talbert. Wiley-Blackwell, 2012. 90-105. (Some of the works cited in this article also sound interesting, but I didn’t have a chance to dig any deeper as I just wanted to know a bit about the Tokugawa-era roads. Also interesting in this vein is Jilly Traganou’s book The Tokaido Road: Travelling and Representation in Edo and Meiji Japan [2004].)

Wert, Michael. Meiji Restoration Losers. Harvard UP, 2013. (Not directly useful as a source for writing about Ishin – it’s about later events and it mostly tracks the posthumous construction of one specific Tokugawa magistrate’s history – but it was an engaging read and I found it interesting as an exploration of how people continue to look back on the Bakumatsu era and the Meiji Restoration, which is something that the game is, of course, also doing.)

Yamakawa, Kikue. Women of the Mito Domain: Recollections of Samurai Family Life. Translated by Kate Wildman Nakai. U of Tokyo P, 1992. (Another one of those bits of essential reading on everyday life for low-ranking samurai, this time with a focus on women’s lives and households more generally. I didn’t use a lot of from this book in my fic, but it has everything from translations of songs to records of families’ financial transactions, and it’s fascinating to read about all the turmoil in Mito playing out in the background of these families’ lives.)

“Yokai.com.” https://yokai.com/. (The creators of this site make a point of not going into detail about their sources, and they’re very careful to state that they don’t intend for the project to be “the final authority” on yokai, but I enjoyed browsing the site to get some ideas for Okita’s stories – and once you know the name of a particular yokai that you’re interested in, it’s easy enough to go look up other sources on them.)

#like a dragon ishin #crime boys #my art #I know I said I was going to turn my attention to the mainline games after wrapping this series up but #what if I just never got off the ishin train #I mean there's pretty much nobody writing ishin fic at this point and I can't figure out why #it almost feels like I have a duty #anyway I hope if you read this fic you also find yourself thinking about my extremely cringe ishin rarepair

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corroded-hellfire · 8 months

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Infestation, Oppression, Possession - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You warn Eddie about playing with a Ouija board, too bad he doesn’t listen.

Note: As a horror movie junkie, my personal favorites are the possession ones (esp The Conjuring, where the title of this comes from) so here’s a little Halloween horror starring Eddie

Warnings: playing with ouija board, possession, general spookiness because tis the season

Words: 2.7k

“Please promise me that you won’t play with it,” you beg your boyfriend. “They’re dangerous.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Babe, it’s just a piece of wood with some paint on it. How could it be dangerous?”

You eye the Ouija board sitting on his bed, the planchette inconspicuously resting on top of it. There are no shortage of horror stories and cautionary tales warning people away from playing with such a dangerous game. You’ve spent the better part of the last hour relating these worries to Eddie, who seems to think nothing of them at all–or about the fact that he bought it to begin with. It doesn’t seem to matter how much the whole thing bothers you.

“You never know who or what you’re communicating with,” you tell Eddie. “You could be opening a portal for something evil.” “So, you think a demon is going to decide to come here to little ol’ Hawkins? And will want to possess me? I’m flattered.” Eddie raises his eyebrows and lets out a small chuckle. A groan slips from your lips as you rub your hands over your face in aggravation.

“Just…please,” you beg as you stand up from where you’re perched on Eddie’s amp. “For me? Just throw it out.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says as he takes a few steps over to you. He places his hands on your shoulders and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Relax, okay? I’ll be careful.”

“Can’t you just–”

“Baby,” Eddie interrupts you. “Go to work, okay? I promise I’ll put it away.”

“You should throw it away,” you say sternly. “Or burn it. You’d have fun doing that, I know.”

Eddie chuckles and presses another kiss to your head. He slips his arms around you and tugs you against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s okay. Just go to work and try and forget all about it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, pulling out of his arms. “Serving greasy burgers to angry truckers is really going to take a load off my mind.”

Calloused fingers gently grip your chin and tilt your head up. Soft but chapped lips press against your own and you close your eyes as you lean into the kiss.

“I love you,” Eddie whispers against your mouth.

“I love you, too.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” Eddie assures you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Bright and early with two coffees.”

“Make sure you don’t drink half of mine before you get to my house this time,” you say as you swipe one of your boyfriend’s hoodies from where it’s sprawled across his desk.

“No promises,” Eddie tells you as you slip the sweatshirt on over your head.

You press one last kiss to his lips, avoiding looking at the devil board on his bed, before heading out to work.

Eddie huffs a laugh to himself once you’ve left. He’s surprised that you’re so worried about the Ouija board. Usually, you’re so cool and collected, always logical and tactful in your way of thinking. It’s not like you to believe in some silly superstition. Maybe it’s just getting too close to Halloween, Eddie thinks as he picks up the board and planchette. Corroded Coffin should be by in about twenty minutes for a songwriting session, but first, Eddie thinks, perhaps the guys will have some fun and try to scare one another.

The next night, Eddie’s lounging on his bed, guitar perched on his lap as he strums a few new chords that the band came up with last night. His amp is on since Wayne isn’t home, turned down just enough so the neighbors won’t complain. Fingers glide over the strings as Eddie plays around with the sounds of a possible new song. A beautiful melody flows to meet Eddie’s ears, but the moment he lets his eyes slip closed to lose himself in the music, the amp cuts out.

The sudden silence has Eddie sitting up and frowning at the amp in confusion. Gently setting his sweetheart down on the bed, he leans over to fiddle with the controls on the amp. It’s still turned on, all the dials are set just as they should be, so why did it go quiet? Eddie pushes himself off the bed to make sure the plug hasn’t come loose. A deeper frown etches on Eddie’s forehead as he sees the plug snugly in place in the outlet.

“Stupid old trailer,” Eddie grumbles as he gets down on his knees. “God damn electric problems.”

The outlet above the one the amp is plugged into has Eddie’s lamp connected to it–the same lamp that’s currently on and shining brightly next to his bed. Yanking both cords from the wall, Eddie tries putting the lamp’s plug into the bottom outlet, just to make sure that’s what isn’t working. The moment the prongs snap into the wall though, the light illuminates his dark room again.

“What the fuck,” Eddie mutters under his breath. He switches the lamp back to the top outlet and puts the amp back into the bottom one. “This amp is new, what the hell? Stupid piece of–”

Earsplitting feedback abruptly rings out through the amp, causing Eddie to fall back on his ass and cover his ears. Heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, Eddie stares at the amp with wide eyes. The racket only lasts five seconds, but it’s enough to freak Eddie out.

“O-Okay…” Eddie says as he pushes himself back to his feet. The room is quiet once again. The lamp is on, his guitar is still nestled against his pillow, and the amp sits there inconspicuously on the stained carpet.

“Jesus, this place is a shithole,” Eddie says, trying to convince himself it’s just some faulty wiring in his old home. He sits back down on his bed and the moment he grips the neck of his sweetheart, the bleating sound of the phone ringing in the hallway has him jumping out of his skin. Once his mind registers what the new noise is, Eddie laughs at himself as he sets his guitar back down and heads toward the phone. “You’re a wuss, Munson. Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, keep your pants on. Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie,” your cheerful voice greets through the phone.

“Hi, babe. Hmm, I take back what I just said then.”

“What?” you ask.

“I told whoever was on the phone to keep their pants on as I walked down the hall. I take that back now.” You can practically hear the smirk on your boyfriend’s face.

“Who said I’m even wearing any?” you tease.

“I’m listening.”

The mystery of the faulty sound equipment quickly fades from Eddie’s head.

Eddie huffs as he uses a flashlight to look through the pantry. The damn lights in the trailer are flickering like crazy and it’s driving Eddie up the wall. At first, he’d thought it was just the lights in his room, but it seemed to follow him down the hall and into the living room as well.

Searching for something to eat, the aggravation only hits a new high when the flashlight in Eddie’s hands also starts flickering.

“Okay, what the actual fuck?” Eddie demands. He bangs the flashlight against his palm and the beam becomes steady once more. “Thank you.”

As if the lights heard his pleasure, they all turn off at once–even the flashlight.

“Are you shitting me?” Eddie shouts. The darkness comes on so quickly that Eddie’s eyes take their sweet time adjusting. He bangs his head on a cabinet as he shuffles out of the kitchen. Like someone flipped a switch, the lights come on all at once–even ones that weren’t turned on before. The sudden brightness burns Eddie’s eyes, and he drops the flashlight to cover them. Slowly, the lights fade back to their usual strength and Eddie is able to open his eyes without pain. He blinks them a few times, still getting them to adjust to the brightness when the front door opens and Wayne steps inside.

The older man shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on a hook near the door. He eyes Eddie where he stands, eyes watering from how sensitive they are right now.

“What’s with you, boy?” Wayne asks.

“Did you pay the electric bill?” Eddie asks in return, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“‘Course I did. Why?”

“Because these damn lights are going crazy,” Eddie says, flinging one hand in the direction of the nearest lamp. “Just wait, they’ve been flickering for an hour now.”

Wayne stands near the door with his hands on his hips, looking around the room at the different lights that are on. Eddie squares his jaw when not even one little flicker occurs.

“Smoke a little too much tonight?” Wayne asks with a chuckle as he walks past his nephew and into the kitchen.

“I didn’t even…ugh, never mind.”

“You want a grilled cheese?” Wayne asks, opening the fridge.

“Sure. Thanks.” Eddie plops down on the couch and stares at the ceiling. The lights had been going crazy–right?

“Did you sleep at all last night?” you ask Eddie at lunch.

Dull brown eyes slide over to you, dark bag eyes beneath them puffy and prevalent, and seem as if they look right through you.

“A little,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Gareth says.

The Dungeon Master raises his hand to flip off his friend while he lowers his head down to the lunch table. He felt like shit too, but he wouldn’t give his friends the satisfaction of knowing that.

Over the next few days, Eddie only looks worse and worse. His face begins to look drawn, his skin a sickly shade of greenish gray. His clothes are more unkempt and wrinkled than normal, appearing as if he’d slept in them the night before. Every morning on the way to school you’d try to get out the knots that had accumulated in your boyfriend’s hair during the night. There hadn’t been a time when his hair had been this much of a pain before. Eventually, you just slip your red scrunchie from your wrist and tie his hair into a ponytail at the base of his neck.

“Are we getting pizza tonight?” you ask as Eddie parks his van in the Hawkins High parking lot.

“Babe, I’m not even going to Hellfire tonight,” he tells you, all emotion zapped from his voice.

“You’re not going to Hellfire?” you ask in shock.

“No,” Eddie grumbles as he pulls the keys from the ignition.

“Why don’t you just go home, baby?” you suggest as you reach over and move a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

“Maybe.” Eddie gives a half-hearted shrug and shoves the van door open and slides out. Frown still pinched on your face, you follow him out and stick by his side as long as you can until you have to go to your separate first periods.

Your phone rings as you’re buttoning your jeans the next morning, and you hop over to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” There’s no energy in Eddie’s voice, the sound raspy and gravelly. “I can’t take you to school today. Not getting out of bed.”

“Aww, baby,” you coo. “I’m going to come over and take care of you. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“No,” Eddie responds. “You’ve got a test today, go to school.”

“Can’t hear you. I’m coming over. Bye.” You hang up before he can protest again; because you know he will. Eddie’s hoodie from the other week is still hanging over the chair in your room so you toss it on before heading out the door to your car.

Eddie looks as shitty as he sounded when you get to his place. He’s sprawled out in bed, the covers tucked up under his chin and his eyes half-lidded as he tries to focus on you. You sigh as you sit down on the edge of his bed. When you reach up and move some hair off of his forehead you feel that his skin is surprisingly cool against your fingertips. You’d expected heat there–most likely a fever raging inside of his body.

“Are you cold?” you ask. Eddie nods, seeming like he hardly has the energy for even that. “I’ll get you another blanket.”

The room feels chilly to you as well, but not enough to warrant two heavy blankets being piled atop of you. Something is definitely going on inside of his body. As you open Eddie’s closet to grab another blanket, your eyes land on the Ouija board sitting on top of a pile of dirty clothes. The room suddenly feels hot as your temper flares. Anger builds up in your chest and your nostrils flare as you snatch up a blanket. Spinning around to face Eddie again, you stomp over to him.

“What the hell, Eddie? Why is the Ouija board still here?” you demand.

Eddie groans and turns his head to bury it in his pillow.

“Talk quieter, please,” he begs.

“Answer. Me.” Despite your anger, you’re not heartless. You lower your volume as you shake out the blanket and lay it across your boyfriend’s body. “Did you play with it?”

The guilty look that crosses his face gives you his answer before he opens his mouth to croak out, “Yes.”

“Eddie,” you whine, running your hands over your hair. “What if that’s what’s wrong?” You gesture to him lying down on his bed, lethargic and exhausted.

“Stop,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed. “M’just getting sick. Or worn down.”

“But you don’t know–”

“Babe, calm down,” Eddie begs, trying to inject as much fervor into his voice as he can. “It’s not from some dumb game. That’s ridiculous.”

The only reason you bite your tongue is because he looks so miserable bundled up in the middle of his bed. Deciding to let it go for now, you sit down next to his head and card your fingers through his curls.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask him softly.

“Just you,” Eddie answers, mustering up a small smile to give you.

As you lean down to press another kiss to his forehead, you swear he feels even colder than he did a few minutes ago.

Eddie still isn’t back to himself the next week. In fact, he says he feels worse. You weren’t able to take the whole time off from school or work, but any moment that wasn’t spent somewhere you were obligated to be, you were at his side. He refused to go to the doctor and even Wayne couldn’t get him to go. It seems the shittier Eddie feels the more stubborn he is.

On Thursday, you don’t have work, so you head to Eddie’s place straight from school. He hasn’t been able to answer the door since he’s been staying in bed most of the time, so you just let yourself inside as usual.

“I’m here, Eddie,” you call out, not too loud though, in case he’s asleep. Your sneakers join the small pile of shoes near the front door, and you pad down the hallway to your boyfriend’s room. Confusion furrows your brow when you don’t see him in his bed. A glance behind you confirms that he’s not in the bathroom, so where else could he be? You take a few steps into his room and spot Eddie standing near the closet, his back to you. His back is straight as a rod and his stained Marlboro shirt and blue plaid pajama pants hang loose on his thin frame, even thinner from lack of food lately.

Cautiously, you take a few steps in his direction. The hair on the back of your neck is raised but you’re not sure why. It’s just your boyfriend.

“Eddie?” you ask timidly. “Are you okay? What are you doing out of bed? Eddie?”

A few heavy silent moments hang in the air. Then with a sudden sickening cracking sound, Eddie’s head snaps towards you. With a gasp, you take a step back. His eyes are entirely black. No trace of the dark brown that you love so much or the white that should be there. Pure black, darker than night. A sinister, toothy smile slides onto the mouth you’ve kissed so many times before. Your body trembles from the inside out as you stare in horror at whatever you’re witnessing in front of you. Eddie’s mouth opens, but the growling voice that comes out does not belong to him.

“Eddie isn’t here anymore.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine

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cheynovak · 1 month

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Somewhere only we know - Part 2

Dean Winchester x F/Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, just a lot of love

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

This story does not follow the SPN timeline.

After the hunt where Dean met Y/N in a dream caused by a Djinn the brothers move on. Although Dean and Y/N said goodbye she keeps lingering in his head. What if he had stayed, would she loved, him the same way as she did in their shared dream.

Now many years later their paths cross again.

The bunker echoed with the sound of new voices, an underground sanctuary where the Winchester brothers found solace amidst the chaos of their world. Sam, ever the strategist, had brought a new purpose to their home. He had opened its doors to those who strayed from the apocalypse world, seeking refuge and guidance in the ways of hunting.

Dean paced the dimly lit corridors, the tension of unfamiliar faces settling heavily upon him. He had always been wary of outsiders, his loyalty fiercely guarded around those he deemed worthy. But this influx of strangers, each with their own tales and trials, left him feeling like a stranger in his own home.

Mary had spoken to Sam a few hours ago, about how Dean lived in silence amongst them. Worried about her oldest son she had asked Sam to talk to him. Giving him more purpose.

One evening, as the bunker hummed with the murmurs of its newfound inhabitants, Sam sought out his brother in the confines of his room. He found Dean sitting alone, listening to some music to shut out the chaos swirling outside his door.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice broke through the stillness, a beacon of familiarity in the darkness. Dean glanced up, his expression guarded yet softened by the sight of his brother. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, the lines of tension easing from his features.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, it might be nice to meet some people.” Dean sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon him like a leaden shroud. “I don’t know, Sammy,” he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken fears.

“I’m pretty comfy out here.“ Sam looked around, “What are you doing all day, Dean?“ Well you know, “Watch tv, wash or work on Baby, listen to some music.” speaking of music. The second Foreigners waiting for a girl like you started playing Dean pushed the skip button.

“Still can’t hear that song huh?” Dean pretended it was nothing, shrugging his shoulders. “Dean... it has been years. Why didn’t you search for her already?” “And tell her what Sam? I’m sorry for not being there for you. Sorry for driving off? Sorry for not being able to give you what you need.”

“Dean...” Sam started. “No Sam! I made a choice, I’m ok with that.” An awkward silence fell between the brothers. He didn’t believe his older brother, he loved or cared either too much or too little and, in this case, it was way too much.

“Well, you need to get out more, maybe you could fetch us the food I just ordered?” Sam suggested, Dean rose from his seat with a heavy sigh. “If you want me gone, just say so Sammy.” Sam looked hurt and shocked. ”D-Dean that’s not it...” But before he could say more the older brother was gone.

As he drove, the cool breeze of the open road washing over him, Dean felt a sense of liberation he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.

Y/N sat at a cozy booth in the burger joint, as she waited for her date to return from the restroom so they could leave. The soft chatter of other diners and the clinking of silverware filled the air, creating a soothing ambiance that enveloped her in a sense of calm.

Alex wasn’t a bad guy, but their conversations were filled with awkward silences and when he talked all he could talk about was work. They met at the office, he was always the nice quiet guy.

When he asked her out, she knew how much it would have taken from him. So, she said yes. As she zoomed out, looking in front of her, amidst the gentle hum of conversation, she heard it.

A familiar rumble, a distinct purr that sent a shiver of recognition down her spine. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the sound. She glanced through the window, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Chevy Impala parked outside.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave of nostalgia. The sound of that engine was etched into her soul, a reminder of a time long past yet never forgotten.

Her date returned to the table, a quizzical look in his eyes as he noticed the smile playing on her lips. “What’s got you grinning like that?” he asked, curiosity lacing his words.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the Impala parked outside. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. “Just a fond memory, that’s all.”

Her date nodded, accepting her vague answer with a shrug before diving back into conversation. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of longing that settled in the pit of her stomach, the echo of that familiar sound reverberating through her thoughts like a haunting melody.

Y/N had to be honest and tell Alex a few times she didn’t hear him. All she could do was glance outside.

When they stepped out of the diner, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N’s eyes immediately sought out the familiar shape of the Impala parked nearby, her steps instinctively leading her towards it.

Leaving her date standing alone a few feet away.

As she approached the car, her hand reached out almost of its own accord, gliding over the smooth surface of the Impala’s body. Tracing her curves like she was a woman needed to be loved. She peeked inside her heart raced. It looked exactly like the car he used to drive.

And then she noticed the carvings, the initials, the same once he had seen that night. After taking a breath she greeted the car like she had been a friend.

This must be a dream. She thought. I'm dreaming.

“Hello, baby,” she murmured softly out of nostalgia, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her date watched in surprise, a curious expression flickering across his features. “Is this your car?” he asked, his tone tinged with a mix of confusion and admiration.

Y/N didn’t turn to him, a sheepish smile playing on her lips as she was reliving her memories in her mind. “No, actually,” she admitted, a hint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for classic cars... especially this one.”

Her date’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his gaze drifting back to the Impala with newfound appreciation. “I can see why,” he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. “It’s a beautiful car.”

Dean stepped out of the diner, the familiar sound of the closing door echoing in his ears. His eyes fell upon the Impala and the two people standing around her.

He couldn’t help but smile as he approached, he overheard a man’s voice, commenting on the car’s beauty. “She sure is,” Dean replied without missing a beat, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and affection for his cherished vehicle.

Turning to face the source of the comment, Dean’s gaze fell upon the woman standing nearby his car, looking inside, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in their presence... “Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in astonishment as she recognised his voice, a rush of memories flooding back at the sight of the familiar face before her. “Dean?” she whispered, disbelief colouring her tone as she took in his rugged features and trademark leather jacket.

Dean’s smile widened at the sound of his name on her lips, a sense of familiarity washing over him at the sight of her. He couldn't help but stare, his gaze lingering on Y/N longer than he intended.

Memories flashed before his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he took in her appearance, the way her hair fell around her face, the sparkle of recognition in her eyes, her lips as she smiled at him.

Dean's eyes trailed over Y/N's figure. He couldn't deny the rush of desire that surged through him at the sight of her, the memory of her beauty was nothing compared to the real deal.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. Dean felt a rush of nostalgia wash over him.

Y/N couldn't help but notice the change in Dean, the transformation from the young boy she had once known into the handsome man standing before her. His rugged features held a maturity that spoke of the trials and tribulations he had faced, yet his green eyes still held a spark of the boy she remembered.

As Dean's green eyes met hers, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken.

Y/N’s date looked between them, confusion evident in his expression as he realized the connection between Dean and Y/N. “Do you two know each other?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Dean chuckled, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at Y/N. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shared a brief glance with Y/N.

“Oh, eh right. Dean meet Alex, Alex this is Dean.” The men shook hands. Dean looked back at you. “Boyfriend?” he asked a little scared. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the question. "Oh no, no, just a colleague," she replied quickly, almost instinctively.

Relief washed over Dean's face, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the sadness that clouded Alex's expression. Alex's reaction was immediate. She could see the pain flicker across his face, a silent admission of the feelings he had begun to develop for her.

"I... I think I should go," Alex said, his voice barely a whisper as he turned to leave. “Wait a second.” Y/N said walking over to his car.

Y/N's heart sank as she watched him walk away, a pang of regret coursing through her veins. She knew she had hurt him, and for that, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"Thank you for the evening, Alex," her voice filled with gratitude and sorrow. “it’s just eh... Dean and I we eh...” “Have a history, I can tell.” He finished her sentence. “I see you on Monday, right?” She nodded and looked back at Dean when Alex drove off.

A small silence grew between Dean and Y/N. Staring at each other.

Suddenly, Dean broke the silence. "So, where do you live now?" Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "I moved to Kansas." While slowly walking back towards him.

Dean looked at Y/N, his eyes softening with a hint of longing. Not wanting to let her go just yet. "Hey, eh why don't you join us tonight if you have nothing else to do?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent.

Y/N hesitated, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. “Us?” she asked “Sam, me, a few other people who we, let’s say co house with.” She was still in doubt. But Dean's words broke through her hesitation. "We could catch up, it has been a while" he suggested, his tone filled with sincerity.

Caught between the pull of the past and the promise of the present, Y/N found herself nodding in agreement. "Okay," she said softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her.

Dean's face lit up with a genuine smile as he reached for the car door. "Milady," he said, his voice warm with affection and a touch of playfulness.

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over her at his gesture. With a graceful nod, she stepped into the car, the soft leather seats enveloping her in a sense of nostalgia.

Even the smell was still the same as she remembered.

The ride was quiet part from the soft rock music coming from the radio.

Dean glanced at Y/N seated beside him, a rush of memories flooded his mind, triggered by the faint scent that lingered in the air. It was her scent, a familiar fragrance that brought back a cascade of emotions from their shared past.

The scent carried him back to moments they had spent together and in this car.

He remembered the way her body felt pressed against his, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire within him that he thought had long been extinguished. Their fingers intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they surrendered to the passion that had consumed them that night.

He recalled the soft sighs that escaped her lips, the gentle curve of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her, and the way her breath caught in her throat as their lips met in a fervent embrace.

Y/N's voice gently pulled Dean out of his memory. "What's on your mind?" she asked. Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. But then, with a sigh, he decided to be partly honest with her. "It's just... it's no longer just me and my brother," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

He watched as Y/N's expression softened. "What do you mean?" “The bunker is filled with people, new people, hunters, allies, friends... it's complicated,"

Dean explained a little what happened while parking the car in the garage. Before walking back into the chaos.

Dean walked Y/N out of the garage, his steps slow and deliberate as he led her towards the entrance of the bunker. As they approached the entrance, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

He pushed open the heavy door, revealing the bustling activity of the bunker beyond. Hunters and friends, their voices echoing off the walls. Spotting Sam across the room, Dean raised his voice to be heard over the din. "Hey, you remember Y/N, right?" he said, drawing the attention of those around him.

As the chatter died down, all eyes turned to Dean and Y/N, curiosity evident in their expressions. Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

"I want to introduce you all to someone," he began, gesturing towards Y/N beside him. "This is Y/N. She is... eh, a friend."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, and Dean couldn't help but notice the look of shock on Mary’s face as their eyes met across the room.

As Sam approached Y/N, a warm smile spread across his face, genuine pleasure evident in his eyes. "Y/N, it's so good to see you again," he greeted her, his voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her at his genuine welcome. "It's good to see you too, Sam," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.

As they caught up, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she fell back into conversation with Sam and the other people here.

Meanwhile, Dean watched from the sidelines, a pang of loneliness tugging at his heart as he observed how well Y/N seemed to fit in with everyone else. He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that crept into his mind as he watched her laughing and chatting with the others.

Y/N couldn't ignore the sight of Dean sitting alone in the corner, nursing a beer as he watched the people around him. Sensing his solitude, she made her way over to him, determined to offer him some company.

"Hey," she said softly as she approached, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Mind if I join you?" Dean looked up, surprised to see her standing there. A faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You, never, go ahead."

Y/N settled herself beside him, the warmth of her presence a comforting contrast to the coolness of the room.

Mary nodded to Sam while she spotted them, “Who is she?” Sam smiled softly “Y/N, we met her during a hunt. It was so long ago I don’t remember when, must have been at least 10 years.”

“Dean seems to like her enough to bring her home.” Mary noticed. “I know he was torn when he had to leave her. It took me while to realise it wasn’t the Djinn that affected him, he never talked about her but later I realised it was leaving her that upset him.”

Mary looked at her youngest boy, Sam could read the question in her eyes. “I said he had to contact her, start a life with her if he wanted, but he claimed it was nothing like that.” Sam nodded towards his brother.

“Seeing him like this, makes me realise he wasn’t honest to himself.”

"It's a bit hectic out there, huh?" she remarked, gesturing to the bustling crowd.

Dean nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah, it's a bit much for me sometimes," Y/N studied him for a moment, noting the weariness etched into his features.

She took his beer out of his hands putting it on the table behind them. "Why don't we go sit somewhere quieter?" she suggested, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Just the two of us."

"Yeah, I'd like that,"

As Dean led Y/N to his room, his quiet sanctuary away from the bustling activity of the bunker, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness creeping over him.

Y/N settled onto his bed, leaning against the bedframe with a relaxed ease that contrasted sharply with Dean's own awkwardness. He stood by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself now that they were alone together.

Y/N looked up at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips, tapping the bed. "You can sit down, you know, I won’t bite." she offered, patting the space beside her on the bed.

As Dean settled onto the bed beside Y/N, the floodgates of conversation opened, and he found himself pouring out everything that had happened to him over the past ten years.

He spoke of the battles fought, the losses endured, and the moments of triumph that had shaped him into the person he was today. How he met Cas and Jack. How his mom was back.

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his as he recounted his journey, her expression a mixture of empathy and understanding. To his surprise she took everything in very quiet.

“Dean?” he looked up at her. “Be honest with me please. Why don’t you like being around these people? What holds you back to make friends?” she asked him.

So typical he though, she hasn’t seen me in years and sees right through me.

Dean got up, his movements around the room became restless, his hands fidgeting with objects as he avoided Y/N's gaze. Her question hung heavy in the air, stirring up emotions he had long tried to bury.

"It's not that I don't like being around them," Dean began, his voice low and hesitant. "It's just... complicated."

He paused, struggling to find the right words to express the turmoil swirling inside him. How could he explain the weight of responsibility that rested on his shoulders, the constant fear of failure, the overwhelming sense of duty that consumed him?

"They depend on Sam and me," he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "And sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning under the weight of it all. Like I'm not allowed to just... be."

"I get it," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "But you can't have Sammy carry that weight alone.” She got up and held his hand. “And you can always come to me if you need.”

"Thank you," he said softly, in the quiet intimacy of the room, Dean's gratitude lingered in the air between them like a tangible presence.

“You know,” she started “I always hoped you would knock on my door again.” As their eyes locked, a mix of emotions danced in the depths of their gaze, unspoken words swirling in the space between them.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I-I was protecting you. You don’t deserve a life like this.”

In Y/N's eyes, Dean saw understanding, compassion, and a flicker of something deeper, a connection that transcended mere words. He felt a sense of warmth spreading through him, a feeling of acceptance and belonging that he had longed for more than he cared to admit.

Y/N saw vulnerability, strength, and a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of his guarded exterior. She felt a surge of affection welling up inside her, a desire to offer him comfort and solace in the midst of his inner turmoil.

“But what if I want to?” She looked at his lips while his hand moved to the back of her neck.

As they closed the space between them ever so slowly, the air crackled with anticipation, a silent invitation passing between them. Their lips met in a tender embrace, a shared moment of vulnerability.

The sensation was electric, sending shivers down his spine as he pulled Y/N closer, his hands finding her hips and drawing her in with a gentle urgency.

Y/N's touch on his chest ignited a fire within him, her fingers tracing the contours of his body with a delicate touch that sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.

He could feel his heart racing beneath her touch, his pulse quickening with each passing moment as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the kiss.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them, their bodies pressed together, a soft moan escaped Y/N's lips, sending a jolt of desire coursing through Dean's veins. It was as if the sound was a silent invitation, a cue that activated a primal instinct within him.

Feeling her response, Dean's hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cradle the back of her neck again, while the other traced the curves of her body.

With a gentle yet firm touch, he guided her back, pressing her against the wall with a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of his heart.

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands moving to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. her skin tingling with anticipation as she surrendered to the heat coming from Dean’s body.

Their breaths mingled in the air between them, hot and heavy. Dean looks at her, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.

And as their lips met once more in a heated embrace, Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration wash over him. A primal need to possess and be possessed, to lose himself in the intoxicating bliss of their shared passion.

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible. I've thought about you every day, wondered where you were, what you were doing..."

His words trailed off as he pressed his forehead against hers, the intensity of his gaze locking with hers as if searching for reassurance in the depths of her eyes.

"I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been on my mind, even when I tried to push you away. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were missing."

Y/N's touch was gentle as she cupped Dean's face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jawline with a tenderness that spoke volumes of her emotions.

"I felt the same way," she confessed, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I regretted letting you walk out that day. It felt like I had lost a part of myself, like I was making the biggest mistake of my life."

Dean's heart ached at her confession, "And you know," Y/N continued, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "the only time I felt truly happy was in our dream. It was like a glimpse of what could have been, like a....”

“A reminder of the life we could have had together." Dean continued her sentence. She nodded. Feeling the weight of his emotions pressing in on him, Dean closed the space between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.

His hand gently brushed against Y/N's cheek, his touch tender yet filled with urgency.

"Maybe I'm being too forward," he began, his voice raw with emotion, "but I want you to stay with me tonight. I need to feel your body close to me, to know that you're here with me."

He knew he was laying his heart bare, exposing himself in a way he hadn't done in a long time. But in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to hold Y/N in his arms, to feel her warmth against him and know that she was real.

Y/N's eyes searched his, her gaze filled with tenderness and understanding. She reached out to take his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through him.

"I want that too," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I want to be with you, Dean. To feel your arms around me and know that I'm home."

A mischievous glint sparkled in Dean's eyes as he flirted with Y/N, his heart racing with the thrill of anticipation. He settled down on the bed behind him. "Home, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with need.

"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you the warmest welcome you've ever had."

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he noticed her confidence as she climbed onto his lap, her body inches away from his as she leaned in close. "Is that a promise?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

Dean's grin widened, his hands reaching out to pull her closer until their bodies were pressed together. His hands guiding her to grind against his hips. "You bet it is," he replied, his voice low and smouldering with passion.

Their lips melted together in another breath-taking kiss, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsating between them.

Dean's hands roamed Y/N's body, tracing the curves of her form with a hunger he hadn’t felt in forever.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her breath mingling with his in a symphony of passion. With a soft moan, Dean rolled over, laying her beneath him, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

His hand moved under her shirt, Y/N gasped at the sensation, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection. His hands roamer her breasts, kneading while his lips nip at her neck.

Clothes became obstacles, hastily discarded in their eagerness to feel each other's skin against their own.

Y/N's soft moans filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire wash over him, his own breath hitching in response. Loving how she said his name.

The sound was like music to his ears, igniting a fire within him that burned hotter with each passing moment.

"God, you sound so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "I could listen to you all night." Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, as Dean's hands explored every inch of her body with a reverence that bordered on worship. Each touch sent sparks flying.

“I need to feel you.” he murmured against her neck.

Their breath mingled in the quiet of the night, the heat of their passion igniting a fire that burned hot between them.

Dean's fingers traced lazy patterns along Y/N's skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. With each touch, she felt herself melting into him, her desire building with every caress.

Feeling the undeniable heat radiating from Y/N's core, Dean couldn't resist the urge to explore further. His hand trailed down her body, his fingers dancing lightly over her hips before slipping between her thighs.

Y/N gasped as Dean's touch sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, her body arching instinctively towards him. With a soft groan, Dean pressed his hard length against her folds, teasing her with the promise of ecstasy.

"God, you feel so good," Dean whispered, his voice husky with desire as he rubbed himself against her, his movements sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.

Y/N moaned in response, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered herself to the delicious friction. "You want this, don't you?" Dean murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased her mercilessly, his words stoking the flames of her arousal.

Y/N could only nod in response, her body trembling with anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy of their shared desire. ”Y-yes, please Dean. Please.”

With a low growl of satisfaction, Dean plunged himself deep inside her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them both.

Y/N couldn't help but curse under her breath as she felt the fullness of Dean inside her, his size stretching her in the most delicious way. She clenched around him, her body instinctively responding to him.

Dean groaned at the sensation, his muscles on his back tensing, while he placed his face in her neck. He leaned into her touch, flexing beneath her hand as she caressed the tense muscles.

"Fuck, Y/N," Dean breathed, his voice rough with desire as he buried himself deeper inside her.

Dean's movements slowed, each thrust deliberate and purposeful, the sensation of being one with Y/N was better than he had ever hoped for. With each deep, deliberate movement, he ensured she felt every inch of him, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers.

Earning every moan or sigh.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt Dean's slow and steady pace, her body responding eagerly to his every touch. "God, Dean," Y/N gasped, her voice husky with desire as she met his gaze with a hunger that matched his own. "You feel so good inside me."

Dean groaned in response "Fuck, Y/N," Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire "Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you want."

Y/N grinned, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to fuck me senseless, Dean. I want to feel every inch of you inside me, driving me wild with pleasure."

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "That’s so fucking hot."

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through Dean's veins. "You haven't seen anything yet, baby," she teased, her voice dripping with promise as she trailed kisses along his jawline.

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he felt himself growing harder with each passing moment. "Then show me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Show me everything you've got."

With a playful smile, Y/N shifted her position, straddling Dean's hips as she positioned herself above him.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched her with hungry eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp her hips as she lowered herself onto him. With a slow, deliberate movement, she sank down onto his cock.

Y/N moaned softly as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm as she rode him with a skill that left him breathless. With each thrust, each movement, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, her mind consumed with the overwhelming need for release.

Dean groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips. Feeling Y/N tightening around him, Dean knew she was on the brink of orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to join her in the ecstasy of release.

With a primal growl, he guided her movements, urging her to ride him harder, faster, as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. "That's it, sweetheart," Dean groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Ride me harder sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart around me."

Y/N's moans filled the room as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her body, her movements becoming more urgent as she chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.

Dean's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want to come with you, sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart in my arms."

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling with anticipation as she rode him harder, faster, her movements driving him to the brink of madness.

As Dean felt Y/N's body tighten around him in the throes of her orgasm, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a primal growl, he thrust up into her. He buried himself deep inside her, becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins.

He sits up wrapping his arms around her as he feels his own release. Y/N cried out as she felt him release inside her, her body trembling with the intensity of their shared climax. She collapsed against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

His arms still wrapped around her as they clung to each other in the aftermath of their passion. Their bodies pressed close, they shared heavy breaths, their hearts pounding in sync.

Dean's voice was husky with desire as he whispered in Y/N's ear, his breath warm against her skin. "God, that, you, were better than I remembered," he admitted. Y/N's heart swelled with warmth at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leaned into him.

"You're not so bad yourself, Winchester," she teased, her voice filled with affection and adoration.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held her close. "I guess we make a pretty good team," he mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.

Dean's touch was gentle as he caressed Y/N's thighs and hips, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay together in the quiet of the room. But as Y/N voiced her worries about someone hearing them, Dean's expression turned possessive, a fierce glint in his eyes.

"Let them hear," Dean growled softly, his voice low and filled with determination. "Let them know that you're mine."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she met his gaze. "Yours?"

She had never seen this side of Dean before, and the intensity of his possessiveness sent a shiver of desire down her spine.

Dean's voice was tinged with uncertainty as he spoke. "At least if you want to be my girl," he murmured, his words filled with vulnerability as he laid bare his fears.

Her fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "Dean," she whispered softly, her gaze filled with tenderness and affection. "I don't want just one night with you. I want every night. I want forever."

"You do?" he asked, Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I do," she affirmed, her voice filled with conviction. "I want to be yours, Dean. Completely, utterly your"

A relieved smile spread across Dean's face as he pulled her closer into his arms, holding her so close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Then you're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Forever and always."

They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, almost falling asleep. Y/N’s phone rings: Foreigner I've been waiting for girl like you, started to play.

Dean looks at Y/N, they stare at each other for a second before they started laughing.

Knowing this was a sign.

-----------

Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

INEVITABLE [3]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mentions of the slave trade, canon violence, blood and injuries, PTSD flashback, mention of torture

word count: 6,183

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

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03: CALL IT FATE, DESTINY, CALL IT LUCK

"luck is my middle name. mind you, my first name is Bad."

⏤terry pratchett

Every blow to his body made you flinch as if you had been hit yourself. Blood splattered into the air, raining down into the already formed pool, and your cries of desperation had morphed into moans of mourning. Rough fingers dug into your cheeks holding you in place and keeping you from turning away from the assault. Lips pressed against the shell of your ear. Poisonous words hissed out in a voice that made your blood run cold.

‘No, no. You keep watching. I want to make sure this lesson sticks. I want to make sure you know who you belong to.’

You startled awake with a gasp⏤ eyes wide and searching for Viktor. His cruel, cold laugh lingering at the back of your mind. But, he was nowhere to be seen. You weren’t in his palace. The cockpit surrounding you was silent. The lines of hyperspace casting a soft, blue light on everything it touched. The Mandalorian. A breath of relief left you as you sunk in your seat. You were safe. Well, maybe not safe. You didn’t exactly trust your new captor.

The room was empty save for you and as you sat up you realized the binders were gone from your wrists. Now, you trusted Mando even less. Who in their right mind captures a bounty and then leaves them unrestricted in their ship’s cockpit? You jumped up, staying quiet, and stepped over to glance over the blinking control panel. You were no pilot, but you knew the basics in case of emergency⏤ not that you’d ever put those skills to the test. How hard could it be? You pressed a button and when nothing happened you hit it twice more.

“It’s locked.”

You cried out in surprise and spun. Mando had climbed up the ladder right outside the open cockpit door but he only rose enough to rest his arm on the floor. You set a hand to your chest to try and calm your racing heart. “Maker, bucket head. You’re quiet.”

“You’re not.” He replied, then tilted his head. “Come down.”

Mando disappeared from view and you huffed in annoyance at how cool and collected the guy seemed. You rushed forward, sliding down the ladder, and when your boots hit the floor you spun to give him a piece of your mind⏤ determined to get under his skin. However, your eyes landed on the small, green child sitting on top of a crate now staring at you while his father rummaged through a weapons locker. Mando shifted enough that you were able to see your firearm hanging in the locker.

“Hey, that’s mine.” You barked. You had only gotten a step closer when Mando turned around and hit a button on his vambrace to close the doors. The tell tale sound of a lock being clicked into place. “Give it back.”

“Why do you only have one slug?” Mando asked.

“Why did you take off my binders?” You countered. It wasn’t something you expected to be answered, you just wanted to answer his question with a question.

The man shrugged. “You looked uncomfortable.” You blinked in surprise. “Where did you get the slugthrower?”

“It was…” His first answer had caught you so off guard that you nearly answered his own without thought. You caught yourself at the last minute and shook your head. “I found it at the bottom of a cereal box. I’m trying to collect the whole set.”

Mando sighed irritably and you took that as a victory. Although as great as it felt annoying Mando and getting a rise out of him, you realized that these moments you called ‘victories’ could possibly add up until the Manalorian snapped and murdered you. This scenario was like any other involving a bounty hunter. You had a person to escape from, and though it was a bit unconventional than your usual situation, you were nothing if not flexible.

“Alright Mando,” You crossed your arms and placed emphasis on the name he told you to call him, “What do you want?” He tilted his head and you shrugged. “Everybody wants something. What’s your price? What do I have to pay to get you to crush my fob and taxi me to Corellia?”

“Corellia?”

“It’s next on my list.”

“Why are you⏤”

You forced a frustrated laugh. “Why does it matter? Just tell me what you want and I’ll⏤”

“I already told you, I want answers.” He replied sharply. A soft coo came from the child, and Mando drifted closer to you. “I want to know who you are. I need to know.”

It was confusing as to why he seemed so desperate for something that had nothing to do with him. You rolled through the facts you had gathered. If rumors were true, Mandalorians were all about honor. You had saved his son⏤ sort of. He could’ve done it himself with that jetpack, but you hoped the intention was enough in this case. He didn’t shove you in carbonite, he let you sleep in his cockpit, removed the binders… Even now, he made no move to detain you. Did the Mandalorian want to help you? Was that it? Maybe he wanted to help you, to settle any debt he thought he may owe you, but he wanted to know he wasn’t aiding the scum of the galaxy.

“You’re not a slave trader.” Mando said. He nodded in your direction, “Not with that collar.”

Your eyes widened, hand shooting up to touch the metal welded around your neck, and gaped, “How… You don’t know that.” You pushed the words out firmly. Nobody assumed the gold choker was what it truly was. “It’s a necklace, bucket head. You⏤”

“No, it’s not.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not with those scars. Nobody claws at a necklace.”

Mando’s words were jarring. It would’ve been easier to handle him just punching your lights out. There was a slight tremble in your hands and you forced them into fists at your side to compensate. How had he even noticed? Nobody looked close enough to puzzle that out. They saw gold and assumed wealth. Any normal slave’s collar was made of scrap parts. Plus, Viktor had ensured that most of the marks you left had been healed properly. The only ones who hadn’t just lingered right under the band itself.

“Fine.” You forced all your emotions into the back of your head, out of the light, where it wouldn’t been seen or felt. You absolutely hated that this man was able to so easily get under your skin.“I’m a slave seeking revenge, Mando. Searching the galaxy for the man who used to own me so I can put a slug in his head.” He remained a statue as always. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“If it’s the truth, then yes.”

“Well, it is.” Sort of. More or less. That was the quick description of your mission, at least.

“Then why are you visiting cantinas? I can’t imagine a slave trader who is rich enough to decorate his slaves in gold would be hanging around the places you’re searching.”

Again, the Mandalorian wasn’t wrong. Viktor would never set foot in a public cantina, and you knew exactly where he was. Canto Bight. The issue was, in order to get to him you needed to find the ��Reaper’ for information. Otherwise you’d never get close enough to pull the trigger.

“You’re right.” You said slowly.

Mando tilted his head. “Then who are you looking for?”

“A guy.”

“That’s vague.”

“Yeah,” You snorted, “It’s almost as if I’m being vague on purpose to avoid connecting to you in any way. Funny, huh?”

The cargo hold was filled with an uncomfortable silence. You couldn’t see the Mandalorian’s eyes, but you could feel his heavy gaze cutting straight through you. Growing up the way you did, born from a slave and raised with only one destiny for yourself, you had gotten used to being seen but not acknowledged. The places you worked equated you to a house plant or a piece of furniture.

Then Viktor saw you. He saw you. And the words scrawled on your ribs made you precious to him. He got some sick kick out of owning something fated to another. You joined a collection of others and you were no longer a piece of furniture to be ignored, but rather you were a trophy. An item to be seen and not touched. Admired but not connected to. As Mando guessed, Viktor dressed you in gold and flaunted you to every ne'er do well who visited him. That was your life for years, and it hadn’t changed until six months ago.

Six months ago you ran and your face decorated bounty pucks all over the galaxy, but you felt invisible. Nobody, save for a bounty hunter here or there, sought you out. You were a stranger on the street, a random face in the crowd, and you could live with that. It was better than the alternative.

Right now though? Standing in front of the Mandalorian you felt seen. Mando was actively seeing you at this moment, taking in details nobody had noticed before, and it unnerved you. He wasn’t looking at you like house decor or a trophy. He wasn’t looking at you like you were his next pay day like the other hunters had. Mando was treating you like another living soul and it bothered you that the sensation felt so foreign. How could a man who hid behind a wall of metal see you so clearly?

“If I told you that you could trust me,” Mando said slowly, hesitantly, “Would you believe me?”

“No. But it’s cute that you asked.”

Mando took a step toward you and your confidence faltered. You stumbled back a half step and spat a curse at yourself in your head. If he noticed your slip up, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “I’ll take you to Corellia, with the promise of safe passage, on one condition.” You nodded. “When I drop you off, you don’t contact me again. This? This never happened. We never met. I’ll crush your fob and tell the guild you weren’t worth my time.”

You snorted in amusement. “Deal. That’s a win-win situation for me, bucket head.”

Maybe you weren’t the unluckiest son of a bitch on this side of the galaxy.

Din was tiptoeing through a minefield. And, the only person he had to blame for being stuck here was himself. He shouldn’t have kept you on the ship. Kriff, he shouldn’t have brought you on in the first place. Din should’ve shot you a quick ‘thanks for the help’ and left you behind in Bespin. But, no. Like the karking idiot he was, he brought you along and worse he spoke to you.

There was still a lot he didn’t know. He’d be foolish to think otherwise, but he felt a tinge of truth with your admittance a day earlier. For years, for most of his life, he cursed his soulmark and he loathed the idea of ever meeting his criminal soulmate. Now, he knew differently. Not a criminal, just a person seeking vengeance. Din was aware that a bulk of the galaxy would still consider someone with plans of homicide to be a criminal, but from where he sat Din could hardly judge. He was by no means a good man, without sin, and he had very recent memories of mowing down Imperial after Imperial for the sake of his son. So, your half truth didn’t shock him or fill him with disgust.

No, what Din felt disgusted over was the knowledge that his soulmate had been wronged. The word ‘wronged’ didn’t even begin to cover the atrocity you must have endured. His soulmate. You had been a slave, treated as such by society and owned by some bastard, and that made every single molecule of his body vibrate with rage.

Mandalorians' belief in soulmates was by no means unique. They were very much like the rest of the galaxy in their reverence for the words. Maybe the one trait Mandalorians shared with the majority.

However, Aq Vetina was different. The culture nearly worshiped the concept of soulmates⏤ saw it as a true blessing and treated it as such. Din didn’t have a lot of memories of his home world. Didn’t have a lot of memories of his parents either. The memories he did have though he treasured, and one of the more prominent ones was this: his parents were soulmates. The reality of soulmarks was more dim than most would like to believe. Soulmates didn’t always end up together. For hundreds of different variables, but just because fate had scrawled words on a person’s skin didn’t mean it guaranteed them a happy ending.

His parents adored one another. Din remembered that. He grew up in a house filled and overflowing with love. An emotion as strong as that wasn’t easily forgotten. Hell, it felt like it was ingrained into his own soul. Tangled with his DNA. When Din lost his parents, he lost everything. Including his culture. The one comfort Din always took was who his soulmate would be. He knew he’d have a soulmark once he hit puberty, with both parents bearing it the chances of him not having one was incredibly low, and though it bothered him his parents would never see his mark he’d still take comfort in it. Just as every man from Aq Vetina before him, just as his father had, he’d find his soulmate and shower them with every ounce of love and adoration he could squeeze from his being. Din would find his soulmate and he would have a family once more. He’d have that love again.

There was no doubt of the love and care his Mandalorian buir and teacher had for him. Din owed the man everything. But the love was different. Not worse, not better, but different.

When his words formed on his skin, Din had never felt such joy and had never felt it turn sour so quickly. It was why the insult of who he thought his soulmate would be stung even worse. It felt like the last bit of his culture, the last shred of his parents he had left, was being taken. Insulted. Spat on. He spent years after convincing himself that a soulmate wouldn’t be worth his time and he was better on his own. Din didn’t seek relationships beyond flings and one night stands across the galaxy because any relationship would be a sad ghost in comparison to the memory of what his parents had. A reminder of what fate took from him.

Now, he sat in the same ship as his soulmate and it felt like so many of his years were wasted on an assumption.

Din was angry that his first words to you were a threat.

He was angry you grew up with that on your skin.

He was angry the mystery and excitement of having a soulmate had been taken from you as well.

He was angry you were treated as lesser than by the people surrounding you.

He was angry that someone had the audacity to put a collar around your neck.

Din was fucking angry.

It burned through his veins and had him seeing red. He was no stranger to anger, but this was overwhelming. And, the worst of it, the thing that made him burn alive from the inside out was the anger he had for himself.

Din never sought you out. He mentally and emotionally tossed you aside without even an attempt to understand. Din gave up on you. His soulmate.

The only thing keeping him from exploding and destroying everything in his radius was the depressing and mellowing thought of his father. His father would be so disappointed in him. His mother would be so disappointed in him. His buir would be disappointed in him.

Din’s spiraling mind tried to comfort itself. It told him that he was doing better now. He knew better now. He was going to get you to where you needed to go and tell Karga to drop the bounty. He’d separate himself from you and then he’d never have to think of you again. You’d be better off without him. All those thoughts only worsened his shame.

What else could he do? It wasn’t just a thought. It was a prayer to the universe, to fate who got them stuck like this to begin with. What else could he do? Din wasn’t the wide eyed little boy starstruck at the notion of a soulmate anymore. The years had changed him into someone that didn’t deserve that. That left him pleading as he sat in the cockpit fuming silently. What else could he do?

The answer given to him was the sound of your feet climbing the ladder to meet him. He huffed out a quiet sigh and when you entered his peripherals he questioned your presence, more gruff than he intended, “What?”

“Maker, relax.” You dropped into the passenger seat with a scoff. Din cursed himself. Again. “Your kid fell asleep downstairs and I’m not desperate enough to start talking to your walls.” He stayed silent and you let out a chuckle. “Although, maybe your walls would be a better conversationalist.”

“You should sleep.” Din replied. It was his best case scenario right now.

“Not tired.” You slouched in your seat, finding a comfortable spot, “So what’s your kid’s deal? You have a mid-life crisis and find the closest kid to adopt?”

You were annoying. You never shut up. Din liked the sound of your voice way too much.

“No.”

“Then how’d you end up with him?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s still two days until we reach Corellia.”

Din shouldn’t answer. The less he knew about you, and the less you knew about him, the better. He should keep his mouth shut, get you to the world you wanted, and speed away as fast as he could. Travel to the clear other side of the galaxy. He knew all of this, and yet his mouth opened. “He was a bounty.”

Fuck.

“Seriously?” You chuckled. “Why would there be a bounty on a kid?”

“It’s hard to explain.” And Din really didn’t want to. “Empire wanted him.”

You hummed and he was caught off guard when you didn’t ask any further questions on his vague statement. He was surprised further when you chuckled, “Good for you.”

Din turned in his seat to look at you. “I turned him in.”

“And then obviously went back for him, I’m guessing. Since he’s, you know, here.”

“That doesn’t change what I did⏤”

“We’re all assholes and it’s human nature that the first thing our brains think to do, our instinct, is sometimes selfish and stupid. It happens.” You said without missing a beat. “The only thing that matters at the end of the day is if you’re willing to fix what you fucked up and the conscious decision you make from there.” Din could only stare at you in response as your words rolled around in his head. You said it so simply, like an offhand comment or passing thought, but it felt so profound to him. You shrugged. “I know, I know. I can be inspirational sometimes. It happens.”

Din found his lips twitching up into a small smile and he forced himself to look away. The only safe spot to stare was the control panel. You stayed silent and Din realized that if he focused hard enough he could see your reflection in the glass panel that sat in front of you. Without any attention on you, without the business of a conversation, Din watched your features soften. There was a melancholy in your gaze that stirred something in his chest.

“I can…” Din began and your eyes darted to look his way while he stayed facing forward, “I can remove that for you.”

“Huh?”

Din spun in his chair so he faced you, and he motioned to your neck where that damned collar sat. “That. I can remove it. If you’d like.”

Your eyes widened marginally and the surprise dissipated as quickly as it came. You shook your head. “No. I don’t want it off.”

“You don’t…” Din tilted his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want it off?”

“It’s a story for another day.” You mumbled.

“But, I don’t understand.” Din blurted before he could reign it back. Never, ever would anybody in the entire galaxy claim him to be the nosy type of person. Din kept to himself and expected others to respect him in that same way. Silence never bothered him. Yet, that same sensation that stirred in his chest, urged him to learn more. It was the most unfamiliar feeling he’s ever had.

You shook your head. “You never take your armor off, right? Even when it’d be more comfortable to shed it all?”

“My armor is not the same as a slave collar.” Din bristled.

“You wear your armor because it stands for something. It represents a part of you, and carries a belief.” You replied sharply. “Right now, this collar serves the exact same purpose for me. So, no, I don’t see a difference.”

Din leaned back and found himself speechless. That was all true of his armor, but he couldn’t fathom a person feeling similarly to the kind of metal soldered to your neck. He cleared his throat and leaned forward on his elbows. “I chose to wear this armor. I put it on willingly.”

“Who says I didn’t choose to put this collar on? Who said I wasn’t willing?” You replied and Din found himself floored again. The melancholy in your eyes hardened and turned to something sharp, mean, and cold. “You can find a sense of protection, of belonging, and what once brought you comfort can just as easily turn into a prison.” You stood up abruptly and Din’s gaze followed you. You motioned to him, “Are you telling me that beskar never feels like a prison?”

You turned on your heel and left. Din didn’t understand how easily you were able to spin him in place. The question you left him with felt like a blow to the chest. Din stiffened in his seat and shook his head. He needed to get you off this ship as quickly as he could.

“You’re kind of a weird kid, you know that?” You were laying on your stomach in the cargo hold, kicking your legs in the air, while leaning on one fist. The child, Grogu, sat in front of you munching on a ration bar that you had scavenged for him in all the the Mandalorian’s supply. You hadn’t asked permission, but you figured Mando couldn’t be upset at you for feeding his child. “Not because you’re green with giant ears. I have no issue with that.” You continued. “You’re just an oddball. In a good way, I mean.”

The boy babbled between bites and you nodded your head as he spoke.

“Mhmm.” You agreed to whatever he was saying. “Yeah. Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Three days on this ship with the Mandalorian and his son hadn’t been the worst thing in the galaxy. You were fed, you had a place to sleep, and the walking tin can hadn’t murdered you. It had been a while since you came away with this many wins back to back. The last bit of real tension you dealt with was when Mando offered to take the golden band around your neck off. You hadn’t meant to take it so personal or make it personal back. You must have seriously pissed the guy off though because since then he had maybe only spoken a total of ten words to you. Even when you tried to egg him into an argument. You found you missed talking to him which meant you must have been more desperate for interaction than you thought. Why else would you crave to hear his voice?

You could always apologize for comparing his armor to your collar. The dig had been a guess. An attempt to get under his skin as he had gotten under yours. You pushed yourself up off the floor to sit criss cross and your hand drifted to the gold band around your neck. It’d be nice to have it off, but you couldn’t yet. Not until you dealt with Viktor. For now, you would just have to daydream about the day you’d walk around with a bare neck.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of the modulated voice had you whip around in surprise, eyes wide and heart racing. Mando was leaning against the wall behind you. He must have come from the kitchen area or fresher, but considering you thought he had been up in the cockpit it really caught you off guard.

“Maker, how are you that silent? You’re basically covered in pots and pans.”

“Practice.” Mando shrugged. His hands were resting on his belt. “I’m sorry about,” He paused and nodded toward you, “you know.”

Your hand fell from your neck. “Why are you apologizing? That was like 48 hours ago.”

“We’ll be landing in Coreilla soon. It’s now or never.”

“Okay.” You mumbled. It surprised you again when the child waddled from around you and crawled into your lap. You scratched his head while he continued to eat. “I’m sorry too then. I didn’t have to drag your armor into it.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

Your eyes widened at his admission, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with it. There was an energy between you and the Mandalorian you couldn’t quite explain. The close quarters made you naturally want to bond, but from experience you knew that was a poor plan. Plus, Mando didn’t seem all that interested in starting up any kind of friendship. Which made sense. You’d be out of his life soon enough. You just wondered if you had gone too long without any real social interaction. Back when you were with Viktor, he had others in his collection that you had grown close to⏤ like sisters. You missed being social.

Before you could think of a bridging conversation, Mando pushed off the wall and climbed up into the cockpit. You blew out a breath of air as soon as he was out of view then glanced down at the kid in your lap.

“Why is your dad so hard to talk to?” You asked. “I can talk to anyone and anything, but that beskar may as well be a wall.” Grogu babbled another string of nonsense and you nodded. “Yeah, I mean he probably doesn’t make a habit of befriending quarries, huh?”

It was fine. It didn’t matter.

And, a few hours later when the ship was landed on the tarmac and the ramp was lowering you repeated those phrases to yourself again.

“Well, uh, thanks.” You nodded. Mando had given you back your weapons and he now stood inside the cargo hold with his son in his arms while you drifted down the ramp. You paused at the bottom. “It’s been fun, bucket head.”

Mando didn’t reply, but Grogu did offer you a wave which you cheerily returned. With one last nod, and a mocking salute, you spun on your heel and began to tread away. You had only gotten a few feet from the ship when you heard Mando call out after you. The sound of his voice calling out your name grinding your feet to a halt.

“Just…Be careful.” Mando said tensely.

“I always try.” You replied with a grin and a shrug.

As you continued to leave, your stomach churned in discomfort. The Corellia shipyard was dreary and gray which could sour anyone’s mood. When you reached the gates, the overwhelming urge to look back slammed into you. In fact, you nearly turned on instinct alone. A moment of weakness born from a desperation to connect to someone again. Shoving it as deep down into yourself as you could, burying it with the bloody memories and traumas in the graveyard of your mind, you pushed forward deeper into the city of Corellia.

It took you only ten minutes to travel through the city and find the first cantina of many. By time you arrived thoughts of the Mandalorian had been successfully shelved and you were seriously craving a strong drink. The bartender was kind and cheerful, the opposite of how this city of Corellia looked, and after he poured you a drink you drifted to a back table.

You decided this was going to be your least favorite world. Even in comparison with Jakku. Never before had entering a city filled you with such dread and distaste. Like a cloud of darkness had rolled over your mind to match the stormy clouds above the city itself. You were honestly just in shock that there could be a place worse than Jakku. That rolled into the realization that the galaxy was a big place and you still had a lot of ground to cover. There was a chance you had yet to see the worst this universe had to offer. That only worsened your misery.

Something solid, something you unfortunately recognized as the end of a blaster, pressed against your spine. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

Fate just couldn’t give you a fucking break could it?

With a sigh, you turned around and began to mumble your usual spiel, “Would you really arrest your⏤” The words died in your mouth as your eyes landed on the man standing behind you. A Nikto wearing a grin filled only with malice and eyes that shone with rage. One who gripped the blaster tight in one hand while his other hung loosely at his side with three missing fingers. You grimaced, “Oh, my luck can’t possibly be this bad…”

Din was pacing the cargo hold while Grogu watched him curiously from the cot. Already he had climbed up to the cockpit just to immediately come down twice. He wanted to leave this kriffing planet. Why couldn’t he leave this kriffing planet? He mumbled a string of curses after the rhetoric question. Of course he knew why.

“This is a bad idea.” Din scoffed aloud. Grogu chirped and his feet came to a stop so he could stare at the kid. His son. Saving Grogu had been a bad idea too. A life changing one at that. That didn’t make it any less important that he went through with the rescue. Din had gambled, taken a chance, and his pay out had been worth more than he could’ve ever imagined. Could he take a gamble on you?

Considering how quickly he had given up on you years prior, taking a gamble was the least he could do.

Din sighed and grabbed his satchel to place Grogu in before hurrying off the ship. He didn’t have a plan. Then again, he rarely did. What would he say to you? Admit that he was your soulmate? Din probably should have done that three days ago. But with the way you had blown off the idea of soulmates, he had a high suspicion that telling you the truth would only worsen the situation. Besides, he was not interested in exploring the soulmate relationship further. Din didn’t deserve that. What he could do, what he owed you, was help in your mission. If he told you the truth, you wouldn’t let him help. If he kept it to himself, then maybe he could help you meet your goals and put you on a path to a better life. One you deserved.

There. Plan made.

Din knew he needed to find a cantina but he wasn’t sure which you’d be in since there were a few in this city. He picked the closest one and hoped for the best.

The hand knotted in your hair roughly threw you back to the asphalt ground of the alley behind the cantina. You landed on your back, the air briefly leaving you, and you stared up at Nivor. With a wince, you spoke, “You know, for only having two fingers you got a pretty tight grip.”

A boot slammed into the side of your rib cage before Nivor knelt down and pressed his knee against your sternum. Your hands reached out to claw at him, shove him off, but he grabbed your wrists with his one good hand and pinned it to the ground above your head.

“You always have something to say.” Nivor spat. “Don’t know why Viktor liked you so much.”

“You and me both.” You replied.

He applied more pressure to your chest with his knee and you clenched your teeth to bite back a moan. Nivor chuckled, “He wants you back.”

“I’m aware.” You snapped, breathless.

“Told him I’d bring you back, but I don’t think he’d mind a few missing pieces.”

“Wrong.” You glared up at him. “You bring me back less than whole and he’ll rip your head off.”

Nivor shook his head, “You’re overestimating your worth, little bird.” Your glare deepened at the nickname. “Viktor’s found a new favorite plaything.” The Nikto pulled a vibroblade from his belt. “Besides, you owe me some parts.”

“Is this about the fingers thing?” You replied. “That was an accident. I wasn’t trying to shoot off half your hand, I was trying to kill you.” You couldn’t help but paste on a smug smirk. “So really you should be thankful.”

“What is it they say? A leg for a leg.” Nivor dragged the blade up from your knee to your hip. Not deep enough to cut through your clothes, but enough to make you uncomfortable. “An eye for an eye.” The blade kissed the skin of your cheekbone as it circled around your eye softly. “How about a hand for three fingers?!”

You shook your head. “The math is not adding up there, buddy.”

With a cry of anger, Nivor lifted the blade in the air and at the motion his knee lifted off your chest. Using the window of opportunity, you rolled into him as hard as you could and he fell back on his ass. However, though his grip had loosened some, he still had a tight hold on one of your wrists and it kept you from running. You tried to twist out of his grip to avoid the blade he was swinging wildly now, and your free hand shot to grab your own dagger. Nivor was stronger than you gave him credit for, and once he gained his footing he was able to yank you back to the ground. The dagger you managed to grab clattered away from your grip when your chest slammed into the asphalt and a cry of pain slipped from your lips as Nivor twisted your arm back to keep you pinned down. Now, his knee dug into your spine.

You tried to reach around and grab him, but your fingers only grazed the leather of his jacket.

“For that, you’re losing your whole arm.” Nivor chuckled.

His blade pressed into your shoulder and panic flooded your entire body. No, no, no. This was your dominant arm. This injury would put an abrupt end to your mission and that was only if you survived it. Between blood loss and Nivor choosing a grimy alley to operate, your chances were slim. With another scream, you tried to shake your entire body in a poor attempt to knock him off of you, but you only felt his blade begin to dig in deeper. Heat flare in your shoulder as Nivor deliberately sunk it in as slowly as possible.

“Stop!” The plea left your lips and you immediately felt shame for begging this man for mercy. You heard his chuckle, the blade sunk a bit deeper, then with the familiar sound of a blaster going off the weight suddenly fell from your back. You were gasping for air, your heart still pounding as you felt hot blood drip down your back and shoulder, and when you glanced to the side you saw Nivor slumped to the ground. The sinister light in his eyes was gone and his features were slack. There was still smoke rising from the blaster burn in his back.

You turned the opposite way, whipped your head in that direction more like, and there stood the Mandalorian now holstering his weapon. You had tucked his memory away, sure you’d never see him again, but now you felt so relieved to be wrong. Seeing that shine of silver may as well have been the glowing end of a long tunnel. The little green child, resting in his bag by his side, lifted his hand and gave you a small wave.

With the arm that wasn’t numb with pain, you waved back.

taglist:

@onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl @garbo-lesbo @moonlqghts @stokeholdsblog @morks-watermelon @http-onie @chonkercatto @xalphafox @pedrojoe @zarahbronstein @cockscombkingdom @ale0m @shelbyteller @fallinallinmendes @grandtheoristpeach @perilous-pasta @love-the-abyss @kneelforloki @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

a/n: this was supposed to be my silly, funny, light hearted story, but the reader in this grabbed me by the shirt collar and went 'bitch nah'. soooooo here we are :)

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #reader insert #female reader #slow burn #soulmate!au

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dira333 · 1 month

Text

Of Tremors and believing in Love - Yaku x Reader

Yaku’s not sure what he expected.

Maybe some buff Russian guy like they show in action movies, or an elderly gentleman that makes him feel like a Celebrity with a private driver.

Not you.

You’re gorgeous, even in the unforgiving light of the airport exit area, holding up a sign that spells his name in bright red Kanji.

He swallows nervously, hands clammy with sweat as he approaches.

He hadn’t been that nervous, he thinks, leaving Japan for an unfamiliar country. It was Volleyball and he knew Volleyball. He could rely on his talent if everything else failed, and on his iron stomach to handle whatever the Russian kitchen was going to throw at him - Lev’s tales hadn’t left him with much hope.

But he’s never been that good at talking to girls and his perpetually single status is either a symptom or the cause of this predicament.

“Hi,” he greets you, voice breaking over that one-syllable word.

“Hi,” you smile and bow in greeting. “How was your flight? Are you hungry, tired, or anything else?”

Your Japanese is perfect. He can even hear hints of a Kansai dialect hidden somewhere in between.

“A little hungry,” he admits, “I… uh… I’m Yaku, by the way. Morisuke.”

He wants to facepalm so badly. Where’s his usual coolness? Where’s his confident tone?

“Sorry,” you apologize immediately, offering your name. “I got caught up in the moment. How about we grab something to eat and get to know each other?”

Yaku nods, glad that’s something he can answer without opening his mouth and making a fool of himself.

As it turns out, he was right.

You grew up in the Kansai region, moved to Russia with your parents when you were a young teen.

He can’t help but search for familiarity in your features, half expecting to be reminded of Lev, or Alisa. He berates himself immediately. Just because you’re Japanese-Russian too doesn’t mean you have to look like everyone else who’s Japanese-Russian.

“How did they find you?” Yaku asks as he slips into the booth, “The agency, I mean.”

“Oh, I work for Tigr Ekaterinburg. I handled your contracts. They asked me if I would be willing to show you around and be a helping hand the first few months and I agreed. Japanese players are often polite and easy to work with. Do you think you’ll be able to handle the Russians though? They can be pretty rough.”

Yaku laughs. “I do think I can. I’ve played in quite a few different teams. My classmates called me Demon-Senpai.” He laughs again at the memory, fondness washing over him.

“Tell me more about that,” you ask, your question so unusually direct for the polite tone you’re using. You flip open the Menu. “I’ll be ordering. Any allergies?”

“So you’re the Mom-friend of the Group,” you summarize, popping the last tiny pancake, or Syrniki, as they are called, into your mouth. You chew slowly, not letting him out of your sight.

“That’s interesting. I’ve never met a male Mom-friend.”

“I’m not-” he tries to defend himself, even though he’s heard it often enough from Kenma and Kuroo, Kai and Lev. “You really think so?”

“There’s an easy test,” you tell him with a smile. “Did you know I have actually a headache? It’s been bothering me all day.”

Worry washes over him. “Really? God, why didn’t you say so? You should rest then. Did you drink enough water?”

You laugh, the sound tinkling around him like droplets of silver.

“You failed the test. Mom-Friend detected.”

He pouts and you still. For a moment, no one speaks.

Eventually, you move again, clear your throat, and take a sip of your drink.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Good.” You nod, your voice calm and distant. “If you want, I can show you you’re apartment now.”

- - -

Yaku’s not the first guy you get to drive around town nor will he be the last, probably.

You drop him off at his apartment, show him the few things he could have trouble with - no rice cooker in the kitchen and the bathroom works a little different over here - and leave for the office, determined to finish that project you’d been working on all week.

Hopefully, work will flush out whatever’s bothering your heart, causing it to race at the adorable little pout on Yaku’s lips.

You told him you’d pick him up later for a night out, so you leave a little early - still not done with that damned project - to put on something fancier, add some smoke to your make-up.

Yaku’s waiting in the lobby when you step in and you swallow thickly at his sight.

Most athletes like to dress as casually as they can in their free time. Jeans and a shirt are often the most you get to see. Yaku, however, is dressed in an expensive suit, hair combed back.

You can tell he’s not a stranger to wearing suits, moving just as easily in it as he did in his tracksuit earlier.

He gets up before you can call out his name, cheeks turning a soft pink at your sight.

That eases your nerves a little, knowing you still have at least some effect on him.

“Ready to go?” You ask, trying to ignore the way he takes you in. There’s a warmth in his eyes that’s a little unnerving.

He’s even prettier under the twinkling lights of the city, leaning in when you explain something, expensive Cologne wafting around you.

“Do you want to dance?” You ask, after you’ve wandered through the city center. “Or something to eat?”

Yaku ponders the question for a moment.

“How about a bite first? I’d love to take you out to dance, though.”

His words leave you flushed and angry. That’s not what you meant, but correcting him would sound weird.

When you suddenly have to weave through a group of tourists, his hand presses against the small of your back, warm and steady, and in way you don’t want it to. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him off, nor to move away from his touch.

“First year was tough”, he remembers over a bowl of Pelmeni, “Kuroo and I didn’t get along.”

“Who was Kuroo again?” You ask, offering him one of your Pirozhki.

He swipes his thumb over his phone and turns it, so you can see a picture of his old Volleyball team. Yaku’s easy to find, almost the smallest of the group. He’s grown since then, though not much, if you had to guess.

“That’s Kuroo. I know his hair looks awful, but he claims he can’t do anything about it and that it’s natural. He was our Captain in our third year. The pudding head next to him is Kenma, our genius setter. These two have been best friends since childhood.”

He tells you each name, warmth in his voice as he remembers. It’s not hard to tell that they were close.

“Are you still in contact?” You ask, surprised when he nods.

“With all of them?” His eyebrows wander up.

“Yes, why? Is that surprising to you?”

You feel caught and look away, but you’re unable to escape his eyes, it seems.

“A little,” you admit finally and hope that he drops it.

Thankfully, he does.

Yaku’s easy to talk to.

All too soon you find yourself walking out of that restaurant and into a nightclub, his head so close as he listens to your explanation that you could kiss him, if you wanted to, without even having to move much.

But you don’t. Because it would be weird, right? And unprofessional.

His hand is warm in yours as a new song starts and he pulls you in.

It’s a slow one and you can’t tell if that’s good or bad.

The dance floor is packed and you’re soon pressed against him, your own heartbeat echoing in your stomach. There’s a tilt to his mouth that makes you wonder how it would taste and before you know you’re leaning in a little and he’s leaning in too.

His lips are soft and warm and he tastes like the wine you shared earlier.

His teeth graze your lower lip, just the faintest touch, but it shakes you out of your dream-like state better than a bucket of ice water ever could.

You snap back and purse your lips like they’ve offended you personally.

“I…” You hesitate, your voice breathless, “I’ll wait for you at the bar.”

There’s a tremor hiding in your bones.

You check your hands in the seconds it takes him to catch up to you, but you can’t tell from the outside. Good.

“I-”

“You can dance with someone else,” you tell him, voice as polite as can be. “I am only your guide, after all.”

“I don’t want to dance with anyone else.” He reaches for you but you step out of reach.

“Please,” you ask, but he shakes his head.

“Very well. Do you want to take a walk?”

The sky is clear above you, though it’s hard to see the stars beyond the glow of street lamps.

Your hands are buried in the pockets of your jacket in case he tries to take one.

“Do you believe in love?” You ask after a minute when the street clears and you’re on your own. “Not in general, but in like… love for yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Makes sense.”

“It does?” Yaku looks over, confusion written all over his face.

“Sure. You’re good-looking, smart, easy to talk to. It makes sense.”

He smiles, but your stomach churns violently.

“Yaku-san,” you stop, address him in the politest way you can. “I don’t believe in love. I am sorry I just kissed you. But I cannot offer you anything of that kind.”

Yaku’s quiet for a while. His face does not give anything away.

Eventually, he nods.

“I understand. But we can be friends, right?”

“Friends as in you’re waiting for me to change my mind about it?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Friends as in friends. I quite like your company, but I can deal with a rejection.”

You hesitate for a second before you nod.

“Friends would be nice.

- - - xxx - - -

“Have you eaten yet?” Yaku’s standing in the doorway to your office, two identical looking Bento Boxes in his hands.

“Eh?” You look up from your Desk. “No, but what are you doing here?”

“I figured. Want to share?”

You’re just about to decline when your stomach grumbles loudly.

Yaku grins and steps closer. “I think that was a confirmation.”

“Hey,” Yaku’s grin is warm and inviting, his hair dripping wet. “We just finished training and the boys want to hit the city. Do you want to come along? I heard they have great Syrniki.”

He absolutely butchers the name and you can’t help but correct him.

“So?” He cocks his head to the side, waiting. “It’s just a hangout with the guys. You know at least one of them, well, besides me, I mean.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come.”

“Are you coming to the game this weekend?” Yaku asks as you meet him in the lobby. He always comes in early for extra training and while you haven’t yet figured out at what time he arrives, he’s already got your schedule memorized, waiting for you with a coffee and a pastry.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you admit, “My parents are coming into town. They’ve moved into the countryside a few years back.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He nods. “I hope you’re having a great time together.”

“We will.” You take a sip of coffee and can’t help the teasing comment slipping through your lips. “Aren’t you going to tell me that you’re going to play much worse now that I’m not there to cheer you on?”

“Your presence or lack thereof isn’t going to affect my game,” he tells you, voice serious, confidence so deeply laced into his tone it catches your breath, “But I prefer to celebrate my wins and losses with the people I care about.”

“O-oh…” you stammer, suddenly overwhelmed, “I… guess that makes sense. W-we can celebrate on Monday.”

“Girl, I don’t know how you do it,” your best friend comments and you can almost smell the alcohol on her breath - through the phone. “You decline every offer to have a relationship yet you have these fine men running after you? Why does this never work for me?”

“You can’t say no.”

“True.” She chuckles dryly. “But it’s a shame you didn’t get to watch that game. He was looking fine. I might not have understood all that much but he was doing well. At least if you believe the commentators.”

“I’m sure he did his best,” you tell her calmly, yet unable to keep from biting down on your fingernail.

“Don’t worry, I recorded it. I’m sending the file over now.”

Your home computer dings with an incoming mail and you heave a sigh.

“I don’t have time to watch it tonight. My parents just left and I’m exhausted.”

“Don’t tell me they asked you about grandchildren…”

You sigh again and she laughs.

“Go, take a nap. The world will look better in the morning.”

And it will… but you can’t help yourself, press play instead of going to bed as you intended.

And your friend is right.

Yaku looks good. He moves with the calm confidence of a professional.

If you could convince yourself that attraction is all it takes to lead a healthy relationship, you might have taken a leap of faith.

Staying up late comes back to bite you in the butt.

No amount of concealer can cover the dark rings under your eyes.

“Long weekend,” Yaku asks when he meets you in the Lobby, coffee and a pastry in hand.

“Mhm,” you nod and take a large sip of coffee, hoping for it to fuel you. It doesn’t.

You chat for a bit but you need to get going and so does he, so you part with the quickest of hugs.

There are only a few steps leading down to the elevators, steps you’ve taken day after day after day for years, but today, you miss the last one.

Your right foot lands wrong, pain shoots through your ankle and you yelp. Your half-empty coffee cup goes flying, just like your pastry and you can see the mess you’ve made but all you can do is cower and clutch your ankle.

“Are you okay?” Yaku’s voice cuts through the ringing in your ears. There’s worry in his eyes. It lights the cold fire of shame in your veins. God, you just rolled your ankle, there’s no reason to make a big fuss about it.

“Sure, yeah, all fine!” You tell him, grinding your teeth as you get up. Nausea wells up inside you but you swallow it down.

“We should get it looked at,” Yaku insists, hands hovering just a few inches above your skin.

“Stop worrying!” You bite out, tone harsher than necessary. But he doesn’t flinch.

“I know it’s a lot, but it will only take a minute, okay?” He insists, voice warm and soft and calming, like hot cocoa on a cold day. You can feel the tremor coming back, want nothing more than to sink into him.

“I’m fine,” you insist, taking one cautious step. It hurts, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Yeah, for now.” He follows you, bends faster than you to pick up the coffee cup and the pastry. Someone’s going to have to mop the floor, but Yaku’s already waving at the receptionist and you’re too focused on grinding your teeth against the pain to complain.

“Stop worrying about me, okay?! We’re not that close.”

Hurt flickers over his face like candlelight.

“I’d do this for everyone,” he insists. “I don’t mess with accidents. Please? It’s only a short trip down the hall for a first check-up. If our doc thinks it’s nothing I won’t bother you anymore.”

You agree, mostly just to get this over with.

But it’s not nothing.

You must have fallen asleep, face pressed against the window of his car, because his hand is warm against your cheek and your name falls softly from his lips.

“Yaku?” You ask and he nods.

“We’re at the hospital. Can you walk?”

“Sure,” you insist, grind your teeth through the pain. Yaku must have seen through your lies, though, getting a wheeling chair at the next chance.

He’s with you through the whole ordeal and you hate it but you don’t ask him to leave you alone. His warm hand on your shoulder is the only thing that keeps you from crying.

He’s there until the very end when they plaster up your leg up to your knee and you can’t help but laugh at the fact that you’ve made it so far in life without a broken bone, yet a single missed step has changed it all.

“I’ll take you home now,” Yaku insists as soon as you’re back in his car. “Are you hungry? We can stop and get some food on the way.”

“I just want to sleep,” you admit. “Forget this happened.”

“I think that’s going to take some time. The plaster stays one for the three weeks.”

“Don’t remind me.”

It’s only when he parks in front of your apartment block that you realize.

You live on the fifth level. No elevator.

Stubbornly you grab your crutches and move toward the first step when Yaku stops you.

“Do you want to carry me up?”

“No!”

“Okay,” he nods. “But you can’t make that trek. Not today for sure, and not every day for the next three weeks. Do you have any friends you could stay at where that’s not a problem?

You hesitate. Most of your friends have similar apartments and if they don’t, they can’t offer more than an air-mattress on the floor for you to sleep on.

“You can sleep on my couch,” Yaku’s voice is low, soft, and casual. This is nothing big to him, not like it is to you.

“Or I carry you up and you have to take the next three weeks off because you cannot get up and down here without help.”

He’s right.

And it’s not that you have to work, you’re pretty sure you classify for sick leave at this point, not to mention that you have enough vacation days saved to take off half of the time without a problem.

In the end, you oblige. And because you want to pack your own things, you agree to a piggyback ride up the stairs.

If Yaku notices how your face is pressed into his neck, your tears soaking his shirt, he doesn’t mention it. His hands are warm and steady around your thighs and he carries you up without breaking a sweat, telling you a funny story to distract you all the way.

It’s weird. It’s cozy. It’s everything at the same time.

You get to go through his list watchlist - which feels more personal than going through his underwear drawer - and watch him prepare Dinner for the two of you.

You sit naked in his bathtub - door closed of course - and open the bottles of shower gel and shampoo to sniff at them like the crazy person you are but when the door opens and you limp outside he’s sitting at his desk practicing Russian, not even sparing your scrubbed clean form a glance.

Yaku’s switched his routine without a second thought, makes breakfast at home now and drives you to work.

He’s the best friend one could ask for, a man so good you wouldn’t believe he existed without the proof you have. But he has a hissy fit in front of you when his friend from school makes a joke about his size.

And maybe that’s the last straw, the last proof you needed.

Because people aren’t just always good. People are people, human and fallible, and there’s always something that makes them break their perfect facade.

For you, it’s the pain of having to rely on someone else.

For Yaku, it’s the pain of being looked down on.

Tomorrow your cast will come off.

Tomorrow you will move back into your own apartment.

You’re not sure how things between the two of you will be then.

But since there’s no way to turn back time, to go back to how things were before, you can try and find out how things could be instead.

“Yaku?” You ask into the silence of an early night.

“Yeah?” His voice is scratchy and sluggish like he’s just on the border of sleep.

“Are you still awake?”

“Am now.”

“What if I changed my mind?”

“About what?”

“Love.”

Silence. Then, the rustling of sheets and soft steps on the floor.

“Are you being serious?” He asks and his voice sounds so warm and excited, so young and full of anticipation.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” he clears his throat awkwardly, now only two steps away. “It depends if you mean me with that change of my mind. If you mean someone else I think I’ll have to get a lawyer before I answer.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I meant you.”

He giggles and there’s a slap as if he’s clamped a hand over his mouth urgently.

You turn a little on the Couch, try to make him out in the dark.

“Do you want to cuddle?” You ask and there’s the swoosh of quick movement as he leaps onto the Couch.

“Boy, do I ever!”

- - - xxx - - -

The air smells the same, but maybe it’s just the airport.

Yaku’s hand takes yours, warm and safe and well-known.

“Excited?” He asks, laughs when you pull a face.

“They’ll love you,” he insists and leans in to kiss you, not caring about all the people around you, or the fact that Kuroo’s going to be here any second to pick you up, or that your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any make-up.

His lips are soft and warm, just like they were on that first night.

You sink into the touch and when his teeth graze your lower lip and the tremors come, you embrace them.

Even if you shiver, you’ll never freeze.

You’ve got Yaku there to warm you, after all.

#my writing #Yaku x Reader #yaku morisuke #Yaku fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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