#I really had to get this out of my system guys. thanks <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohbother2 · 3 months

Note

Tha hazbin hotel brainrot is so strong, your writing is so good im kicking feet hsujsjsn

May i request a Lucifer X reader where they are pining so badly for each other and ends up in a situation where they are very close to one another? Like the classic " oh shit we're stuck in a small space together and so close" or "whoops tripped and fell now I'm pinning you down and panicking" kind of thing but it's really all up to you <3 and then they end up just full on making out lol, cause yearning,,

(I simply need making out fics with the short king he's taking over my brain😭)

Thanks for requesting!! I had a lot of fun with this one :) Hope you enjoy! Also, I only realised when I went to post this that this ask didn't specify a f!reader, but I thought it did so just a warning for you guys. It's not too specific but... not entirely gender neutral.

This probably borderlines smut, so... minors DNI.

Lucifer x f!reader

PART II

You had been Lucifer's secretary for many years now, joining him just after the disappearance of his ex-wife Lilith when he had decided he needed more help with his duties. You had been there for some of the worst years of his life, assisting him through the highs and lows of being the King of Hell, had seen him at his worst, and at his best. You had helped guide him from the deepest depths of depression, and for that he was eternally grateful, batting away the darkness with a smile enchanting enough to light up the dingiest corners of Hell. He truly didn't know what he would do without you, and today that was evermore apparent.

It had been a long day, and Lucifer found himself sat at his large desk, dark bags sitting heavy underneath his tired and bloodshot eyes, jacket and hat discarded and head resting in his hands as he tried to focus on the mountains of paperwork scattered along his ornate desk. He had been stuck in this position for hours, and he could feel his back creak and something in his neck twinge whenever he shifted. He truly desired nothing more than to crawl into bed, but he had duties that he couldn't just abandon.

A soft knock at his door signals your presence, and only his gaze lifts when you enter, tray in hand and that familiar comforting smile adorned on your rosy lips. Your smile morphs into something more fond as you approach the hunched man, who runs his hands through his disheveled locks and leans back in his plush chair, hands rubbing at the tiredness of his eyes and dragging down his cheeks. He looked tired, he looked weary, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his shirt wrinkled and rolled to his elbows, blonde locks falling across his forehead. You always loved when he looked a little disheveled, appreciating his strong forearms that flexed as he clenched his hands into his hair. It was more rugged than he ever let himself look in any other situation, and you couldn't get enough. You had to fight a frown at seeing how utterly exhausted he was, however, not enjoying the darkness encircling his bright eyes. He didn't hide these things from you, he had no need to; you wouldn't threaten his power at seeing this display of weakness, you would just smile and offer reassurance, appearing with a cup of steaming tea to quell his nerves.

"Good evening, sir." You place the tray against the edge of the desk, trying not to disturb any of the numerous documents that lay strewn about, though you doubted there was any system to the disarray.

"'Evening." He leans further back in his chair, watching you tiredly as you shuffle some of his papers to the side. "How many times do I need to tell you not to call me that? We're good friends, 'Your Royal Highness' is more than fine.''

"Apologies, 'Your Majesty'." You attempt a curtsy, though that was hard with the tight pencil skirt you had chosen to wear today. He laughs at your efforts, taking the steaming tea from your hands with a grateful nod, sighing as the scolding liquid reaches his lips.

"You're marvellous, you know? I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I brought you some tea." You back-hand his compliment away, as you always did, gaze turning to try and decipher some of his scrawling writing. You always found it easier to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks by confusing yourself with his work, that method hadn't failed you yet.

"You're here on a Friday night, looking after some tired old sod, when I'm sure you had many potential plans to go to." His gaze travels up from your hip that you had propped against the desk to tidy some books, up past the curve of your waist, the swell of your chest, gaze lingering a little too long on the collarbone that peaked from beneath your blouse, before finally resting on your face. He stares again, sipping slowly from his cup, far too long for a boss to appreciate an employee, mapping the curve of your brows, the light downturn of your lips as you tried to read something on the desk, the way your hair cascaded around your features. He was tired, he usually controlled himself better. "I wish you'd take a weekend off some time."

Your gaze finally returns to him, satisfied with the state of his desk and you lean back, both hands gripping the desk ledge. "Hypocritical coming from you, don't you think? When did you last have a weekend off?"

"Hmm," He hums, finishing his drink and placing it onto his desk. He rolls his neck in an effort to rid of the crick that was increasingly bothering him. You notice, you frown. "If I am nothing else, call me a hypocrite. You should be out - I don't want to see you here tomorrow night, I want to see you on Sunday morning with a horrendous hangover and stories to tell me."

You laugh, the King of Hell instructing you to go and shirk off your responsibilities and get smashed? Only Lucifer would tell an employee that.

"We both know that won't happen." You grin, taking the opportunity to reach forward and push some of his blonde locks back from his forehead, attempting to push them back into their usual immaculate style. He swallows tightly as you do, having to fight himself from leaning into your touch. You were so gentle, and that fond smile remained etched onto your face as you did so, and God he wanted you to keep caressing his face until he fell asleep right then and there. "Come on now Luci, this place would fall apart without me."

"I can cope one day without you." He bluffs, leaning heavily onto his right armrest and closer to you, legs crossing as he fully relaxes - work didn't matter right now, you did.

"You're so sure?" You shift your stance, and he notices in his peripheral how your tight skirt lifted slightly, exposing more of your milky thigh.

"Not at all." His confidence in the statement has you laughing lightly, the King of Hell grinning up at you and admitting how royally screwed he would be without you. "In fact, I'd probably be dead the next time you walked into work. But wouldn't that be a fun story?"

"I would much rather you be alive." You slowly leave your position leant against the desk, deciding enough was enough as he winces again and rubs at a sore spot in his neck. "I do quite enjoy your company, you know."

Your hands suddenly fall against his shoulders, and he lurches in his seat, shrinking away from the cold pads of your fingers that pressed delicately against either of his shoulder blades.

"Uh-" His voice is uncharacteristically high pitched, and he has to clear his throat to stop it from breaking embarrassingly. "Y/N, what are you-" His fingers grip at his thighs as your fingers move, pressing firmly against his worn muscles. Oh heavens, that felt good.

"You've been rubbing your neck since I walked through the door." You explain, completely focussed on your task at hand and unaware of the red hue that was steadily growing on Lucifer's rosy cheeks. "You need to give yourself a break."

This was rather a bold move from yourself, but you were nothing if not opportunistic. That's how you landed this job in the first place. Your hands work steadily, finally reaching the centre of his back and gliding your thumbs up his spine, up the centre of his neck, and directly into the base of his skull. His head rocks forward lightly at the movement and he groans at the action. You continue to work at his neck, and he remains sat, eyes closed tightly, clawed hands nearly tearing through his own trousers, bruising his own thighs, feeling as though he were back in Heaven. He could feel how close you were, the heat of your body wafting across his neck and shoulders as you worked, and he had to concentrate immensely to control the sounds that wanted to escape his throat. He had nearly combusted on the spot when he had audibly groaned, but you hadn't commented on it, for which he was eternally grateful.

After several minutes, that both felt like an eternity of torture and mere seconds of bliss for Lucifer, you pull your hands back, finishing with one final carding of your fingers through the short tufts of hair at his nape. His eyes open blearily at the loss of contact, blinking heavily as he watches you gather the tray into your arms, adorning his empty cup, and a stack of paperwork.

"Y/N what are you- absolutely not, leave those here." He reaches for the papers now stacked on your tray, and you lift it higher out of his reach unless he stood. He realises his dilemma, firmly rooted into his seat unless he wanted to make an incredibly embarrassing and inappropriate reveal.

"It's only the menial stuff I do sometimes." You step away from the desk slowly, heels clicking as you go. "Besides, it's barely made a dent. I'll have them finished and with you tomorrow morning."

"You should be sleeping." He warns, leaning his elbows against his desk and watching you leave.

"No no." You mock, pausing with a hand on the handle to the door. "We should be up and having fun, making embarrassing stories to share tomorrow. I, for one, can't wait to hear about the hilarious tales of Lucifer and his mountains of paperwork. I'll make sure my story is juicy, these accounting papers are always full of gossip." You lie plainly, and Lucifer shakes his head with a grin.

"Thank you." He calls as you open the door. "I mean it."

"I always have you to thank for a wild Friday night." You grin, finally leaving through the door you had entered from with a bow of your head.

Lucifer sinks into his seat, sighing heavily as the room plunges into silence once again. He stares at the papers that still littered his desk - you had lied, you had taken a sizeable amount. Your presence had helped, and your fingers had fully relaxed the tight muscles in his back and neck, and he felt immensely better than he had mere minutes before. However, you had created an entirely new problem. He shifts at the uncomfortable tightness to his trousers, hands dragging through his hair as he thought, hard. There was no point sitting here if he wasn't able to focus. He raises from his seat, cursing his inability to man up and just tell you how he felt.

Bathroom first, and then he would focus on his paperwork.

---

A month later, Lucifer had been in charge of organising a fancy ball with some incredibly important guests - the 7 Sins of Hell and a smattering of other Royal households, as well as general persons of influence from all 7 rings. The event was to be held in the Pride ring, and as soon as it had been organised he had practically pleaded with you to attend. You hadn't been able to go to the previous events, being stuck in the Pride ring due to your human-soul. Lucifer had been ecstatic when he realised you could attend, and had nearly cried when you had agreed to go with him. Not as a date, no, definitely not, but as friends.

"We're late!" Your voice shouts as you hurry through the door to Lucifer's office, heels in one hand and your purse in the other. Your eyes land on Lucifer, who was stood fiddling with his tie in front of a mirror on the wall, forked tongue stuck out as he concentrated. "Luci, the driver's outside."

"I know, I know." He stresses, finishing off his tie and attempting to smooth down the lapels of his jacket, finally turning towards you as he arranged his cuff sleeves. "It's fine, he'll w-wait-" He stutters as his eyes finally land on you, pupils widening significantly as he forces out "for us."

You never really dolled yourself up that much, usually wearing typical office attire, and sometimes even wearing casual clothes if you were in the office particularly late. Tonight, you had gone full out - you pretended it was because of the nerves about being around such powerful figures in Hell, in reality, you wanted to impress Lucifer, you likely wouldn't get another opportunity to doll yourself up so much again, and you wanted to make the most of it. Even if nothing happened, you wanted to prove you could be just as beautiful as the Overlords and Royalty he frequented.

As you stand, hesitantly, reapplying your rouge lipstick with your small compact mirror and fluffing your hair, Lucifer stands star-struck, eyes glued to your figure. You wore an elegant black velvet dress that clasped around the back of your neck. The elegant midnight coloured dress hugged your torso tightly, and Lucifer's gaze hovered heavily. The fabric was tight and emphasised your curves, with the neckline dipping down sinfully low and exposing the rivulet between your breasts, a beautiful ruby jewel hanging from a silver chain right between the valley of your breasts, the dress cinched tightly at your waist and fell elegantly from your hips. He could see one of your smooth legs from a slit in the side of the dress. You close the mirror and pop it back into your silver purse, smiling brightly at the stunned man.

"My- Y/N you look stunning." Lucifer compliments, leaning back against his desk as he finishes clasping his cuff links. "A vision. Dare I say, I'll be having to fight away the suitors all evening."

You blush furiously, thankful for the makeup that covered your cheeks. He pauses, swallowing thickly as you bend down to begin fastening your shoes.

"Please stay away from Asmodeus."

You laugh as you continue to fiddle with your shoes, glancing up at him as you tie the clasp. "You flatterer. Should I expect to see you pulling these moves on all the girls there tonight?"

You jest, but Lucifer is so enraptured by you he cannot help but feel insulted you would even think he would entertain the notion of other women. He speaks quietly, watching you struggle to gain your balance as you try and put on the other heel. "Not at all."

He didn't know what compelled him to do it, maybe it was the way you wobbled as you tried to get into your second shoe, likely it was the fact he'd already had two glasses of wine to quell his nerves, but before he realises it he's kneeling in front of you and grasping your ankle in a feather-light grip.

You freeze as his hands replace your own, sliding your foot easily into your heel as your hand comes to rest on his shoulder to regain your balance. He works slowly, gently fixing the clasp of your elegant heel, head turning up towards you and smiling up at you. Your breath catches in your throat, Lucifers hands resting against your ankle and calf, disarming you with a charming smile and lidded eyes, and kneeling directly in front of you. His hand slides up your calf as he lets you go, standing back to his full height easily, now a little shorter than you with your heels properly on.

"T-Thank you." You breathe, fixing the slit of your dress that had become creased. Your own hands reach forward, straightening his tie and smoothing down his collar. "You look very handsome yourself."

He smiles, self-satisfied, as you fix his collar, and then immediately schools his expression to hide his awe-struck grin when he realises you were actually looking at him. "Thank you, thank you." He chirps, cane materialising in his left hand and twirling it, trying to distract himself from how close you were, and how absolutely beautiful you looked. "I think we'll make quite an entrance. Don't you?" He offers you his right arm, and you take it with a grateful nod as you both leave the office and head towards the taxi. "That is, if you manage to walk down all those stairs with those stilts under your feet."

"I'm excellent in heels." You defend, rather enjoying the way your arm brushes against his chest as you walk, the smell of his expensive cologne reaching your nose. "We'll have a problem if you start drinking, you can barely stand straight after a bottle of wine, and I certainly can't carry you home in these heels."

"Oh? You're insulting my drinking skills? What about the time I had to come and collect you from a party I wasn't even invited to, to teleport you home? I could barely understand you through the phone." He clears his throat, raising his voice high and slurring his words mockingly. "Luci- I-I'm not drunk, BUT-"

You whack his shoulder, remembering the night perfectly, and utterly mortified he had had to guide you home after you'd had a few too many. "Shut up, you're no better at holding your drink."

He laughs, and you feel the rumble of his chest against your forearm. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

---

It had been several months since the party, and Lucifer was growing increasingly frustrated at his inability to make any sort of move on you. Hell, he hadn't even kissed your hand, which was something he had had to do to more people than he could count. He was desperate to make his feelings known, and yet was utterly paralysed whenever the opportunity arose for him to express them. It didn't help that ever since his stunt with your heel, you had become more emboldened with your flirting attempts, but he always doubted whether your words and actions were actually meant flirtatiously, or if he was just romanticising all of your interactions in his own head.

The party had been... uneventful. True to his predictions, Lucifer had been having to whisk you away from attempted suitors all night, and at one point had grown so irate at a particular demon's attempts he had placed a hand at the small of your back and refused to remove it until the demon had thoroughly gotten the point and left the conversation. The event had only made him realise his feelings more for you, being positively furious that he couldn't just tell the other demon's you were his, and to piss off back to whatever Ring they had come from. The next passing months had been nothing short of torture as he grappled with whether to confess, or not.

Despite his wishes, things had carried on as normal, and it was absolutely maddening. He had even spoken to Charlie about his dilemma, but she hadn't been much help, just shrieking at him excitedly through the phone. He had been so desperate he had nearly asked Asmodeus for help, but he had quickly decided against that after remembering some of the stunts he had pulled in their younger years.

Now, he sat back at his desk at 2am, frowning after realising he didn't have all the documents he needed. His hat and jacket were once again discarded, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows in his signature 'I am having a bad day' fashion.

"Y/N!" He calls, and your head pokes out from a filing cupboard you had been tasked with organising. He smiles at you, a hand running through his hair as he sits back. "Can you please find me the letter we got from Wrath about the expenses for that new armament shop? I think it was sent by a Mr. Pennine."

"Yep!" You chirp, disappearing back into the cupboard with the sounds of shuffling papers increasing. Lucifer scans the document in his hands, patiently awaiting the file.

He hears a thump, and a groan, and he straightens in his chair, trying to see what you were doing.

"I've found it." You emerge, rubbing the base of your spine with a wince. An airy laugh falls form his lips.

"What did you do?"

"It's on a high shelf that I can't reach - I fell trying to climb and get it."

Lucifer laughs properly this time, already beginning to stand from his seat and head towards you, shoulders shaking as he does.

"It's not funny."

"I think you'll find it's hilarious." He grins, walking past you and into the small storage cupboard. "Right, where is it?" He glances around the cupboard with an eyebrow raised. He hated this kind of menial work, and was frankly terrible at locating things within this jumbled mess. "I have no clue how this system works."

"Hmm, filing has never been your strong suit." You hum, appearing behind him, having to press close in the small space. A hand appears in his peripheral, motioning over his shoulder to a shelf even he would have to climb to reach. He sighs, releasing a breath as he places a foot against an unsteady shelving unit.

"Yes, another one of my many limitations. Thankfully you're so good at finding things for me." He grins over his shoulder at you, hauling himself up until he's at eye level with the correct shelf. You stand beneath him, arms outstretched tentatively, just in case.

"If I fall, I fully expect you to save me." He comments, brows furrowed as he sifts through the files, looking for a 'Mr Pennine' to catch his eye. When he does find it, he wafts the document about his head, calling down to your worried expression. "Seems I'm doing a better job than my own assistant."

You cock your head at him, taking a small step back as he readies to climb down. "Truly, don't even know why I'm here sometimes-"

You hear a worrying creak as his foot lands on the next shelf down, and his gaze locks with yours for a mere moment before the shelf breaks and he plummets to the ground. He lands on you with a yell, flattening you against the floor and opposite wall and sprawled across your lap in a heap. The whole cupboard shakes with the fall, and the door slams shut with surprising force, plunging the room into darkness.

Lucifer groans, pushing himself back up onto his knees, rubbing an elbow tenderly as he attempts to stand, back smacking into another shelf as he tries to back up. You groan as well, hunched against the wall and thoroughly winded, not entirely sure what had happened.

"Y/N! I'm so sorry, are you alright?!" Lucifer attempts to bend down to reach you, glowing eyes staring at you through the darkness, but his back smacks against another shelf. He stands there, half-hunched, useless as you try and push yourself to your feet, clinging onto a shelf to haul you upright. He can feel you moving against his legs, the cupboard really not meant to house two bodies, and when you finally stand your body presses far too close to his for comfort. He smacks the cupboard door harshly, hoping that the lock hadn't fully sealed from the outside, but the hinges remain firm. "Oh, fuck." He groans, leaning back against a shelf and staring down at you, one hand still pressed pathetically against the door. "Looks like we're trapped."

You, on the other hand, are unable to see anything except the glowing pair of amber and ruby eyes staring down at you, not possessing the enhanced vision Lucifer did. Your hands search the walls aimlessly, and you attempt to press yourself back into the opposite wall to try and create some space. Despite both of your best efforts, you can still feel the heat emanating from his body, barely inches of space between you. "Can you portal us out?" You question desperately, blinking furiously to try and see more of your surroundings.

"There isn't enough room."

You both plunge into silence, and you wring your hands together nervously. Who would find you? When was the next person scheduled to meet Lucifer? It was 2am, who else would be awake at this time? God, he was so close, you could feel his breath fanning across your forehead and hair. You rub at a saw spot near your temple, having smacked into a shelf during Lucifer's rapid decent.

A hand lands against the side of your face without warning, and you jerk at the unexpected contact in the darkness.

"Sorry!" Lucifer draws his hand back as quickly as he had placed it, returning it to his side and flexing his fingers. "I forget you can't see as well." His hand approaches much more slowly, fingers carding your hair away from your face. "I was just trying to check your head, you hit it pretty hard when I fell on you. When I said I expected you to save me, I didn't mean to sacrifice yourself as my landing pad."

"That's what I'm here for." You joke, missing the contact as he withdraws his hand, satisfied that the skin hadn't broken. "I'm fine, don't worry." You smile despite the darkness, knowing he could see.

"We'll be fine." He assures, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or himself, he laughs to himself, trying to dispel the anxiety in his chest. "Someone will find us soon."

You hum, doubting him very much. All you could do was wait.

God-knows how long you had spent in that closet, but it didn't take long before you were unbuttoning the first few buttons of your blouse and complaining about the heat. Lucifer hadn't been his normal chatty self, and instead leant heavily against the shelves behind him, hands gripping at the shelves that ran along either wall to prevent himself from reaching out towards you. You were so close, so warm and smelling so sweat pressed against him, all it would take was an inch of moment, barely a lift of a finger, and he'd be able to pull you close, to draw you towards his chest just like he had dreamed about for years now. It didn't help that you kept shifting your weight from foot to foot, feet aching from the amount of time you had just had to stand still, seemingly completely unaware of the way it made your hip rub against his pelvis.

He was a sweating, panicking mess, and he had twisted his torso uncomfortably, back hunched, to prevent the effects of your movements on him pressing against you. He could see your innocent expression through the darkness, the way your eyes searched blindly in the cramped space, and he wanted nothing more than to reach forward and press his lips against your neck, and not stop until someone found you the next morning.

But, he was a gentleman, and he had control, despite what his body was doing of its own accord, and so he gripped the shelving either side of your head and tried desperately to think about other things.

That was until you tried to lean against the shelf to your left, causing your thigh to rub the slowly growing bulge he had been desperately trying to hide. Lucifer's breath hitches in the darkness.

"Are you okay?" You ask, having picked up on his quickened breathing. You couldn't see him at all despite the amber eyes that flicked around the room incessantly, but you could feel his legs pressing against yours, and you could faintly feel the presence of an arm close to your head. When his amber irises land on you, you have a perfect view of the way they dilate, and you furrow your brows. "Is there something wrong?"

"God, would you stop moving." His voice was tight, straining in his throat as he tried his best to remain composed. He was fully aware you weren't even doing anything, but a love-sick pining man pressed so close up against his crush for so long? Who could blame a man for growing flustered.

You shift, attempting to lean towards him to see what was wrong, but two hands are suddenly on your hips and pushing you away from him and back into the shelf behind you, grip vice-like over the fabric of your trousers. You can feel his ragged breath against your forehead. "Heaven, please stop."

"What are you-" You go to argue, but the way his grip tightens against your hips has you halting. You stare for a moment, and it takes you far too long to put the pieces together in your mind: the dilated pupils, the shaky breaths, the way he pushes you away from his hips. Oh.

"Sir, it's okay-"

"Please stop talking." He practically begs, face a fiery red and really wishing for death right about now. "I'm sorry. It's inappropriate. You keep moving and you're so close. You don't have to work for me again after this, I'll understand-"

"Lucifer," You interrupt his rambling, hands coming to rest atop his own on your hips, sliding them up his forearms and resting atop the junction of his elbow. "you know you're the densest man I've ever met."

No response greets you for a moment.

"I said I'm sorry, you don't have to insult me too."

The hurt in his voice has your face twisting into a sympathetic smile. He really was oblivious.

"I'm insulting you, because there's an opportunity right in front of you, and you're not taking it."

You can hear the way his breathing deepens. "What do you-"

You lean forward, impossibly closer, chest pressing against his own. You can feel the way he gasps at the contact. He still has a hold of your hips, pining them away from him like a man burned.

"I'm going to die." He suddenly blurts, his breaths short and panting. His composure was slipping. "You're going to kill me if you keep doing that."

"I'd much prefer it if you didn't die." One of your hands slides up from his arm to his shoulder, burrowing into the fabric there. A high sound catches in Lucifer's throat, and you grin. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you kissed me like I've been inviting you to for the past few years."

His mind runs blank, nothing but the sound of his heart beat ricocheting between his ears. You wanted this? You wanted him?

"I don't think you understand." He stutters out, arms beginning to end their fight and allowing you to inch closer to him. "I don't want this, I want you. D-Dates-" He falters as your hand travels up his neck to the tufts of hair at the back of his head, gently scratching at his scalp. "and cheesy stuff, not just... filing cupboards."

He'd die if he got to have you only for a few hours, and then had to live the rest of his life returning to mere friendship. He would starve to death.

"It's about time you asked."

"You really want this?" He asks, voice small. His breathing was getting harder.

"Yes." You breathe. "I have for a long time."

That was all the indication he needed, and his lips crashed against yours as his hands enveloped your waist and dragged you flush against him. You gasped at the suddenness, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips atop yours in a delicate, passionate, kiss. One of his large hands remains at the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him as the other travelled up your spine, cradling the back of your head and holding you steady as he presses into you. He groans as your fingers tighten in his hair, both of your hands winding around his neck as you push up into him.

He pulls away for breath, his hot breath fanning your cheeks as he pants. You can see his eyes, half-lidded but impossibly bright, pupils the largest you had ever seen them, staring directly into your own. "Do you have any idea how crazy you've driven me over the past years?" He asks rhetorically, voice low and husky. You don't have a chance to answer before he's kissing you again, a hand gripping at your jaw and neck as he tilts his head, his brows furrowing as he pours all his concentration into the kiss. He kisses like a man starved, like a man who depended on your lungs for oxygen, like a man who would die if he separated for a moment too long. His forked tongue slides against your bottom lip and you open your mouth without question. He licks into your mouth with giddy enthusiasm, groaning into you as his tongue finally slips into your mouth, groaning louder as you submit, tugging at his hair and allowing him to push you back into the door with a thud.

His hand falls from your neck, resuming its place against your hip, thumbs pressing dangerously into your hip bones and pinning you against the wall. You gasp against him as his fingers inch their way beneath the bottom of your blouse, pressing harshly into your supple skin as he sucks the air from your lungs.

You feel dizzy when he pulls away again, and as you catch your haggard breath he ducks his head to graze his lips against your throat. He peppers kisses beneath your ear as a hand slides down to grasp the curve of your ass, the other continuing to pin your hips against the door as he presses his hips flush against your own, rolling his hips lightly. He delves down lower, tongue snaking its way down towards the junction between your neck and shoulder, his fangs nipping at your skin as he presses hot open-mouthed kisses against your pulse point.

"Oh-" You gasp, hands clinging onto his broad shoulders as he corrals you against the doorframe. You tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck to him as he hums happily. He finds the spot he wants and presses his teeth harshly against your skin, suckling hungrily and lapping at the bruising skin with his tongue. You groan, a hand gripping his hair as he rolls his hips up, biting into your shoulder as he moans. He grinds against you, continuing to lavish your throat with his eyes closed happily, moaning and groaning into your skin. His breath catches when you roll your hips down to meet his thrusts, and he whimpers when you tug at his hair painfully when he abuses one spot on your neck too much.

"Sir-" You gasp, and suddenly his lips are withdrawn from your neck, and his wide lidded eyes are staring directly into your own. Both of your breathing is ragged as you anticipate his next move, heart in your throat.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" His hips still against your own, and you whine trying to rub against him, but he pins you in place and rests his lips against your ear, whispering, begging, against your ear. "How many more times do I need to?"

You shudder at his hot breath, hands uselessly clinging to the collar of his ruffled shirt. "Just once more."

"Say," A kiss, pressed heavily against the underside of your jaw. "my" Another kiss, hot against the column of your throat. "name." Another, lavished between your collarbones right at the hollow of your throat. You gasp at the staggering sensation, his tongue wet and hot across your collarbone.

"Lucifer." You gasp, voice high and airy. He rewards you with a grin and a fierce kiss against your lips, pressing your head back into the doorframe. You moan his name again, and his hips rock up into yours involuntarily.

"It's unfair, the effect you have." Lucifer whispers, hands sliding up your sides and beginning to unbutton your blouse. He presses a kiss at the corner of your lips as you help him with the unbuttoning. "That massage you gave me?" You can feel his breath against your lips, and you have to fight not to lean forward into him as he gently pushes your blouse from your shoulders, warm hands sliding down your arms and the fabric bunching at your elbows, not quite falling all the way. "I had to take care of myself afterwards." He tuts against your lips, each purse of his lips pressing a ghost of a kiss to your own, but not quite giving what you wanted. A knee presses between your legs as he delves his tongue into your mouth, and you're too distracted to notice until he rolls his hips into your leg and pushes his thigh up against you. His claws dig at the tender flesh of your sides, leaving light scratches as he returns to your lips, grinning against you as you gasp and whine.

"You're not so innocent." You gasp as he leaves your bruising lips to return to his path down your neck, know able to reach your shoulders and chest, which he takes full advantage of. A hand grasps your thigh firmly and hikes your leg up and around his waist. "You constantly unbutton your shirts around me, stare at me with those eyes, leave your hand on me the entire ball and don't do anything about it. How could I resist?"

"Well, I'm doing something about it now." His voice was infuriatingly giddy, his hand grabs at your thigh through the fabric of your trousers, and he internally wishes you had chosen to wear one of your skirts today. His hips roll into yours at the new angle, and he stutters at the pleasure.

"The ball was not my fault." He presses a bruising kiss against your lips, biting down gently as he pulls away. Murmuring against your ear, you can feel the smile on his lips as he talks. "You have no idea what was going through my head that night. If I had my way, I wouldn't have gotten up from my knees for hours."

The way his silky voice hissed at the last word was downright sinful, and you're too distracted by your own thoughts to realise he had ducked his head back down to your chest.

"Luci." You gasp as he travels lower, peppering kisses down the valley of your breasts, murmuring against your skin, hands sliding lower and lower and tongue chasing them down to your naval. A finger pulls playfully at the front of your bra. Oh no, he couldn't win the upper hand that easily.

Gaining confidence, and determined not to let him be his usual cocksure self, you grasp him by the collar of his shirt. "Don't be unfair." You reprimand. He doesn't protest when you lower yourself to the floor, pulling him beneath you and straddling his hips. The cupboard was just big enough for him to lay down if he bent his knees, and you grin down at him as his hands grip your thighs tightly.

Your hands rest against his chest, and you can feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he stares up at you, his fingers flexing against your thighs when you refuse to move. He tries to roll his hips up into you, but you lift yourself just out of his reach.

"Don't do this." He whines, but you only grin down at him, leaning impossibly closer until your chest presses against his. You wish you could see the blush to his cheeks, the parting of his mouth around those little gaps, but instead you settle for staring into his blown pupils.

"Whatever do you mean?" You feign ignorance, shifting lightly and revelling in the way his eyes widened and his claws dug painfully into your skin. You press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

A noise traps itself in his throat, you kiss against his jaw, his chin, the other corner of his mouth.

"Sweetheart," He moans, trying to tilt his head to catch your lips with his own. You roll your hips to distract him, and he hisses unhappily. He stares up at you with big puppy-dog eyes, a world away from the confidence he had felt at having his way with you earlier. "please."

"Good." You purr, and he whines when you finally kiss him properly, hips lowering onto him and palms sliding up his chest. You pull away and immediately begin kissing at the underside of his jaw, leaving your own trail of hickeys down the column of his throat. He squirms beneath you, breathing heavy and voice high-pitched as you kiss down his chest, pulling his collar to the side and grazing your teeth along the top of his peck.

One of his hands guide your hips against him, and he jerks his hips, the buckle of his belt biting cooly into the hot skin of your stomach. The other hand lies flat against your back, caressing your spine and sides and pulling you closer, trying to guide you back towards his lips.

He had thought he was in heaven before, but with you above him, he could barely contain himself.

Your hands pull at his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bite into the tense muscle of his shoulder. He closes his eyes painfully tight, muttering incoherently as his fingers flex against you. Your pace was beginning to quicken, and you moan against his shoulder as he whimpers and whines.

"Ngh- wait, stop." His voice breaks around the syllables. He grasps your hips tightly, knuckles white as his claws dig dangerously into the skin at your hips. "Not too fast."

"Another one of your many limitations?" You grin against his neck, feeling the way his chest heaved beneath your hands.

"Hmm," He hums, bleary eyed and uncomfortably hot, warm hand cupping your jaw and bringing your face up to meet his. "You have a way of exposing those."

You give in to what he wants, allowing him to slip his tongue back into your mouth, a hand cupping the back of your head and tangling into your hair, pulling you close and making sure you couldn't get away. You rest against him, revelling in the moment, losing your breath and humming against one another's lips.

Just as you go to move your hips, a hand planting itself against his chest to help your movement, light spills into the cupboard, and you freeze, lips detaching and staring wide-eyed at the shadowy figure stood in the cupboard doorway. You blink furiously, trying to readjust to the harsh light, but Lucifer is quicker to recover and pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to hide your bra from view.

He glares at the worker who remains standing dumbly with a hand on the door handle. Lucifer's hair was a mess, sticking out in every conceivable direction, his cheeks flushed a flaming red, shirt tugged halfway down his chest, with a smattering of lipstick across his lips and jaw, and blossoming bruises dancing across his neck and chest. You weren't in a much better state.

His eyes blaze red.

"Come back in an hour. Close the door."

The worker immediately slams the door shut, plunging the cupboard back into darkness.

Your shoulders begin to shake, laughter bubbling from your throat as you tuck your head into Lucifer's chest. He sighs, resting his head back against the floor and eyes returning to their normal complexion. When you finally compose yourself, you push yourself up with your elbows, grinning down at Lucifer with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe I was too harsh." He mutters, a hand coming up to cup your jaw. He grins cheekily, eyes shining in the darkness. "Where were we?"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #Lucifer x reader smut #x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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leviathxn · 30 days

Note

So I have a request for a Miguel fic, if you are willing to do it. 😊🤗

So...Miguel has a family but he hasn't told the other Spiders. One day he has to take his baby to work to look after him for a while. But then, in his office, bang the Spiders and see Miguel with a baby in his arms/or in a baby carrier. Later Miguel's wife comes in the picture too to take the baby in their universe.

OKAY I LOVE MIGUEL WITH A KID SM

So I know people were asking me for a part 2 on my other one so I’m gonna work on it but obviously it’s these requests firsttt

Thank you all so much for the support 💕

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“”Are you infected??”

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You were typically the one to watch the kids, the double trouble twins. Miguel was a busy man, protecting the spider-verse and all, so you would work from home and play with the twins. It wasn’t so bad, of course Miguel felt bad that he couldn’t have as close of a relationship with them but they still very much knew who their daddy was ((and you did too 😳)). But overall it was a good system and you would get to take things slow at home while being a fun mother.

However, every so often there was days you would need to go into work, very rare but still at least a semiannual occurrence. Sometimes you would even take them into work and they would end up bothering coworkers, but most times you were able to get a family member or close friend to watch them but as they’ve gotten older, spider powers started to shine through. Not only was it hard to control them but it would be too revealing.

Obviously nobody knew Miguel was spider-man, but if two twins started to hang on ceilings, people would eventually put two and two together. This meant you couldn’t leave them with family, resulting in Miguel carrying them around in double baby backpacks. One would be on his chest, the other in him back.

Miguel, in typical fashion, stayed in his office. Nobody assumed anything by his yelling, the man was weird, what would be surprising if he was schizo? Although every now and then people would look at each other, it didn’t sound like typical frustration or talking to himself, it was almost a back and forth. They were in no way heavy, but oh my, they were annoying. How did you get a grip on these two? They’re animals. Halfway through the day, the twins got out of the carriers and there was no going back.

“Put that down! Ay- I’m sorry don’t cry- HEY”. Miguel was struggling, because he loved the kids and he felt so bad for yelling but they wouldn’t listen. He thought to himself about the teens. You’d think as they get older they’d be better, but he saw himself comparing them to his 1 year old twins.

Disgusted at the thought, he grabbed them and webbed their hands. They giggled, struggling to get it off. It was a good distraction….. for like 3 minutes, then they were back to running around. He tried playing fetch with the twins but that didn’t go very well. They were just.. confused. Why did he throw the toy the just got. Although he appreciated their thinking skills, he really had no idea what to do. He held both of his kids, they hung from his arms and were climbing around him like a jungle gym.

Completely lost in thought about his children dilemma, the doors to his office opened, and the lovely teen band walked in. What a sight for them to see. Miguel standing completely disheveled and staring into space, a kid on his shoulder grabbing his ear, and another kid gorilla hugging his ((massive)) leg and trying to bite the suit.

Panic bells went off, everybody rushing over to Miguel. Was this an attack, was Miguel okay? Oh my gosh he’s being attacked by alien morphing baby things. As they all got ready to ready for the babies, Miguel jumped back, making sure to grab hold of his kids, and getting defensive.

“What the hell is your guys problem?!!” He shouted, sheltering both of his kids, who were now on high alert and looking fearful.

“Are those Aliena??? What happened to you, what did they do?? Why do you look like that!” Miles replied back to him, pointing his fingers at both babies. “Are you infected??”

Hobie, naturally didn’t look concerned, and stop back. “Mate, they look just like him”

“They bit him and took his DNA!! That’s why he’s protecting him”, Pavitr shouted while getting in an offensive position. Hobie almost lost is as he hurled over. Gwen looked over for a moment, then back to Miguel. “Wait… those are your kids”

“WHAT”. Miles and Pavitr shouted, looking at the very tired Miguel. “By that doesn’t make sense- you’re not- are you married??”. Questions flew right and left, chaos ensued as the babies ran around again. Miguel was done, SO DONE with babysitting the actual babies and now the teens.

Suddenly the door opened again, a very sweaty you running through. “Oh Miggy- I’m sorry I’m late I just got so lost in this place, but I’m here for the twins”. Miguel looked over at you in panic, the teen’s immediately stopped in their tracks. As the kids ran to you, so did the teens…. and what was supposed to be Miguel’s saving grace, ended up in having everybody over for dinner.

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Ahh I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for, I traveled today to see a college and I’m writing this very late so I hope you don’t mind that it’s rushed. I’ll get more writing done this week since I’m on break, I promise!

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dollfacefantasy · 9 months

Text

Video Games

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving)

summary: you're playing video games when leon feels a little needy

word count: 1.9k

a/n: hi everyone, i'm back with another piece. thank you so so much to everyone who supported my last post (especially if you reblogged and/or left a comment, hugging you through the screen rn). And if you followed me, hi! happy to have you here :) it means a lot to me, and i hope people find some enjoyment in this post as well. this post has nothing to do with the song video games, but i love lana and wanted to use that picture so idgaf. also, all the games mentioned are ones i really loved when i was younger. i'd love to hear some you guys like if you want to share. again, feedback, likes, follows, and reblogs are appreciated! <3

You were so excited when your parents called you and told you they were bringing by your old Playstation 2 today. They were cleaning out the garage and found the dusty, old box that contained the system and all your favorite games from when you were young. Leon was sitting on the couch, watching you wander around as you spoke into the phone. He had returned from a difficult mission recently and your joyful presence alone made everything seem brighter. He smiled at the ways your eyes lit up when you laughed and recalled old memories. He’d gently reach out and stroke your hip when you’d walk past the sofa, lost in your conversation.

About an hour later, you were rushing out the front door to retrieve your box of nostalgia. Leon trailed behind with his eyes full of love for you. He takes the box of stuff as you briefly talk to your mom and thank her for making the stop. He carries the box back into the house for you. It wasn’t that heavy. You definitely could have done it yourself, but he couldn’t get enough of how that sweet smile would spread across your face when you said thank you and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

The two of you set up the console together in your living room. His strong arms hold the tv at an awkward angle as you snake behind it to plug in the cords in all the different ports. His eyes can’t help but run along your body. He can’t help but notice how your shorts ride up as you bend over or how your back arches while you strain to reach the back of the screen. He’s snapped out of his lustful daze when he hears you say “Got it!” and pull back from behind the tv. He puts the monitor back in place and you hug him from behind, pressing soft kisses to his back while thanking him again for his help.

“It’s nothing, Baby,” he says softly, turning to face you and kissing the top of your head.

You smile up at him before eagerly pulling him to sit on the couch with you. You rifle through your box of old games, pulling out your beaten-up copies of Sly Cooper and Silent Hill. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as you gush to him about your favorite parts and all the fun you used to have playing them with your friends. His heart aches with the love he feels just from hearing you speak with such passion.

“Why don’t you show me some?” he suggests as you continue looking through the box on your lap.

“You want to watch me play video games?” you ask as if it’s the nicest thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be bored.”

He laughs slightly like even the idea of being bored while spending time with you was ridiculous. “C’mon, you’re all excited over this stuff, and you’re not gonna play?” he asks, “I’ll be fine. Maybe you can teach me your tricks.”

“Yeah, I’m a real pro,” you joke sarcastically, but your smile remains genuine. You decide on playing Tomb Raider and hop up to put the game in. Again, Leon can’t help how his eyes are drawn to the fabric of your bottoms tightening around your ass as you squat to insert the game. You return to your seat and get comfy against his side with his arms around your shoulder.

You start playing, your smile widening as you hear the familiar music and begin remembering the controls like the last time you played was only yesterday. Leon watches the screen as much as he can, but his real focus is on you. The way your fingers frantically mash at the buttons while fighting an enemy, how you tense and press against him when you think you’re going to die, your half-assed justifications for mistakes you make, blaming the age of the controllers. He loved you so much that his limbs nearly trembled with want for you. Everything about you drove him wild. You smelled so good and your body was so warm nestled against his.

He keeps watching you, and it’s becoming overwhelming, his desire for you. He leans his head down, brushing your hair away, and starts gently kissing the open expanse of your neck. You bite your lip as a knowing smirk rises on your face.

“I knew you’d get bored,” you tease, tilting your head a little to give him more room. He takes the invitation and moves his lips with more intent.

“I’m not bored. I just need to feel you,” he defends between kisses, “You keep playing.” He adjusts on the couch so he’s lower and has a better angle on your neck. His arm that isn’t around you caresses your stomach slowly.

You try to focus on your game, but it’s difficult when you have his hands and lips coasting over you, his hot breath on your neck. Your own breathing hitches when his hand on your stomach slides up to fondle your tits. Your fingers start feeling useless on the controller, fumbling between buttons as you try to continue playing. His teeth scrape along your neck. It’s the last thing you can take before you make too many mistakes and die. The menu comes up to reload the game and your head falls back against the cushion.

“Leon,” you whine playfully, “You’re making me die.”

“‘M Sorry, Baby,” he mumbles, “Just can’t get enough of you.” He continues kneading your breasts and showering your neck with kisses as you try to survive the level you’re playing. Heat spreads through your body and slick begins collecting between your thighs causing you to squirm a bit. Leon smirks against your skin, sensing the effect he has on you.

He kisses your neck a few more times before he moves his mouth down your arm while easing himself onto the floor. He presses a final tender kiss to your hand gripping the controller before settling on his knees between your legs. You know what’s coming, and it causes your cheeks to tint a soft red. The sight only excites Leon more. His fingers tuck beneath the waistband of your shorts and slip them down. He lifts your lush thighs to rest on his shoulders and pulls you closer so that you're slouching against the cushions.

“Leon, I’m gonna have to start all over again,” you say, your voice softer from your arousal. You try to seem focused, but your attention to the game is waning with each of his touches.

He works his mouth along the smooth skin of your inner thighs before dragging his nose along the cloth covering your center, inhaling you. The scent sends his blood rushing to his cock. He lays a kiss to the fabric as he hums in response. “I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart. Promise.”

He hooks his finger around your panties and pulls them off. You feel his breath against your wet cunt, the sensation sending a chill through you. You take your lip between your teeth again while keeping your eyes on the television. In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring into you, gazing at you like you’re a work of art. He starts rubbing his thumb up and down your folds slowly, not with enough pressure to give you real pleasure, just the right amount to tease.

“You’re fucking soaked, Angel. Gotta have a taste,” he murmurs before swiping his tongue through your pussy. You let out a short moan at the feeling. Leon wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place as he starts to make out with your cunt. His tongue flattening and dragging against your dripping core, lapping up every drop of you he can.

Your eyes roll back and your fingers spasm on the controller before you put it to the side and grab Leon’s hair. He groans as you tug him closer, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. You whimper and buck against his face. He knows all your attention is on him now. Knowing he made you feel so good that you had to focus on him had his pants feeling even tighter. He looks up at you, his eyes clouded with lust and your slick coating his lips.

“Taste so sweet, Baby,” he breathes, thumbing your clit as he speaks, “Could do this for hours if you let me. Have your pretty pussy cumming over and over.”

He buries his face back into your cunt and fucks his tongue into you. You gasp and writhe above him. Your head pushes back against the couch cushions. Your thighs start to squeeze around his head, and he loves it. He pushes even deeper, nose bumping your clit as he works. You whine and your hands fly up to cover your face as your cheeks feel hot.

He gives your thigh a quick pinch and pulls back. “No hiding, sweet girl. Wanna see and hear everything you give me.”

You slide your hands down and off of your face. Before you can even think of a response, his tongue is back to flicking against you. You moan a bit louder and your eyes flutter as the band of heat in your belly starts to tighten. Your thighs quiver, and Leon’s grip on you gets stronger as your hips try to shift.

Your chest heaves with your heavy breathing as your hands press into the couch cushions. His eyes are fixed on your face, savoring every sweet noise and expression. Your body shakes harder and you know the finish is near. You look down into his eyes, and the sight of his face buried between your thighs with that intense gaze trained on you almost makes you cum on the spot.

“Fuck, Leon. I’m gonna cum. Can’t hold on,” you whimper, your eyes squeezing shut as your voice breaks into moans.

“Look at me, Baby. Let me see those gorgeous eyes while you explode,” he says before working his tongue with even more dedication. You give him what he wants, looking into his eyes as you reach the peak. You cry out and claw at the couch cushions as you release. Your hips sputter against his face and your thighs clamp around his head. Your eyes stay locked on his, letting him see how he unravels you. You hear him groaning and feel his body rolling a bit as he devours you through your orgasm.

He keeps lapping at your folds as you come down, getting a final taste before he pulls away. He plants one last kiss on your clit before rising up and leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. You kiss back and softly moan as you taste yourself on his lips. You grab his wrist as you pull back. “Need me to return the favor?’ you say and give him another kiss.

“No, Honey. I’m satisfied, trust me,” he hums and kisses back. You notice the dark spot forming on his pants and your blush returns. The thought that he could feel such pleasure simply from pleasuring you made your stomach flutter. He pulls back from your lips and strokes your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your features. “I’m gonna change my pants, and then you can show me some more of your game. If you want to,” he says.

You glance back at the tv which had been displaying the reload menu for a while at this point. You give him that smile that he loved so much and nod.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut

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eureka-its-zico · 7 months

Text

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 6

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

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

Words: 16.7+

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

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

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Previous Next

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

“Are you even listening to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck

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

“I-“ I don’t know what to say.

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

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

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

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

“I won’t do that.”

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

“What’s going on?”

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

Your words only earned you an exasperated look from Nami.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which he accepted.”

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

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

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

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

“Not if I win.”

“You’re not going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell your navigator to butt out.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, the other thing.”

“I kill your kind for a living?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not that just seems silly-“

“Because that is just how it is!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you are my friend, you idiot.”

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

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

Fresh blood from an old wound.

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

“I told her the truth.”

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

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

“Guys-“ Usopp interjected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until you saw her standing with a bag in hand.

“Where are you going?”

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

“I was just going out-“

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

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

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

“Are you going to tell Luffy?”

A sigh pressed past your lips as you shrugged.

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

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

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

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

“I need to leave.”

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

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

“Usopp and I chose you guys.”

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

“You don’t get it-“

“Help me understand!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What makes you so sure?”

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

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

“That’s just a dream, Doc.”

“It’s a good dream.”

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

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

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

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

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

The Going Merry felt like a ghost ship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that you were staring or watching or anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem to be struggling with that coffee.”

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

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

“Okay, that’s enough! Enough, Zoro!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t even know me.”

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

“I’m not going to lose.”

“You don’t know that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or maybe you’re just delusional.”

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

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

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

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

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

And Nami…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No.

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

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

“Now that’s more like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Magnificent.”

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

“NO!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What should we do?

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

Doc, what should we do?

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

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

“Luffy-“

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

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

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

“You could never fail me.”

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

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

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

“Zoro?”

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

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

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

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

Why did that feel easier said than done?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry I’m just nervous.”

Usopp was obviously as panicked as you.

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

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

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

“Easy! Easy! Jesus, be careful!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Easy. Don’t drop him!”

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

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

“What does that have to do with anything?”

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

“Zoro? Hey, can you hear me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Doc!”

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

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

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

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

“Everywhere.”

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

“Ok, but Doc hurry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. Zoro wasn’t going to die today.

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

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

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

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

“Why the hell were you doing that?!”

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

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

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

“Right! Right, I can do that!”

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

If only you could get your hands to stop shaking.

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

“I’m on it, Doc.”

“What do you need me to do?”

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

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

“Okay. I can do that.”

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

“Thank you for coming back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we having a picnic?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he going to be okay?”

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

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

“But it might not be.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to wrap him.”

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

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

“I can help you. If you like.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Doc.”

“Hey Luffy. Everything alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you out here, Doc?”

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

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

“The Demon Pirate Hunter?”

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

“Your first mate.”

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

“You did an amazing job today, Doc.”

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

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

“But you saved him.”

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

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

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

“That’s not true.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

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

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

Not yet.

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

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

No! Not dying…

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

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

“What’s going on here?”

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

“Nothing. I was just leaving.”

“Again?”

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

“Again?” Luffy asked, visibly lost.

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

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

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

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just-“

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

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

“Itchy monkey?”

“His sword.”

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

“Oh, right. The Itchy Monkey.”

You hoped somehow Zoro could hear this and was screaming.

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

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

“Oh, yeah. Let us know how it goes.”

“You got it, Captain.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?

“Captain. No one else does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry. Who?”

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

“Green-haired guy. Three swords.”

“The one from this morning?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

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

“I think I’ll take my chances.”

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

This guy was going to give you trouble.

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

“So, how did he look, Doc?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you interject with a pout.

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

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

“You know what I meant.”

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

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

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

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

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

God, please make him stop calling you beautiful.

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

“They were actually scared of her.”

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

“Usopp!” You shot out in a groan.

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

“Why would villagers be scared of you?”

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

“Because-“

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

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

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

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

“Why was he cutting pieces of your hair?”

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

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

“Cries? As in a baby?”

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

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

“No parents?”

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

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

“The lucky ones do.”

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

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

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

You were not going to cry.

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

“I could drink to that.”

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

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

“You always carry a bottle around with you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can see that.”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“What? Why? Why should we leave?”

“Because they are looking for you!”

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

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

“Where are you going?”

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

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

“Alright, I’m coming with you.”

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

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

“Usopp. There are innocent people inside that place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kindness for a kindness.

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

“It sounds like he messed with us first.”

“Luffy, please. Please.”

“Nami. What are you so afraid of?”

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

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

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

“Fuck that!”

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

“I’m going with you.”

“Doc, it’s safer-“

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

“Hey! I’m taking all the offense!”

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

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

“You can’t be serious?”

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

“I’m going with him, Nami.”

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

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

Seriously? You’re bringing the pot with you?

“What’s with the pot?” Sanji asked.

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

“It’s my weapon of choice.”

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

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

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

“We are going to be okay, Usopp.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Who here is Arlong?”

That was one way to make an entrance.

“That would be me.”

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

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

“Why, yes I am.”

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

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

“So was I.”

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

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

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

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

“An old friend helped me track you down.”

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

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

“Is that a fucking clown head?!”

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

“Burpy? What are you doing here?”

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

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

“How’d you even know how to find me?”

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

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

“What is happening right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t bow down to any man.”

“I’m no man.”

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

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

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

Shit.

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

“Then let the fighting begin.”

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

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

“Zeff!”

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

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

“Usopp!”

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

“Usopp, get bac-“

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

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

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

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

“Just…my pride,” he wheezed back.

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

“Get up!”

“Luffy!”

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

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

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

“Luffy!”

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

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

“Fuck that I can’t just let him die!”

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

“He isn’t going to die!”

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

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

You refused to lose two people on the same day.

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

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

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

“Go check on our Captain.”

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

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

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

“Doc! Stay back!”

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

“What is going on?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t believe you-“

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

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

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

No! “No!”

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

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

“Doc, no-“

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

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

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

That caused him to pause - for everyone to pause.

“How? You’re a human.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t do this, Doc.”

“I’m sorry, Luffy. I have to.”

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

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

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

_________

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

_________

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Note

not a request but i just wanna get an idea that i absolutely MUST get out of my brain before it consumes my entire being. So, your “get off my screen series”. You know that trend where ppl put that one vox vid of his face on their tv and put like hus hat and/or body attached to the tv. Imagine vox somehow finds a way to do that and y/n just does this.

THATS IT LMAO ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE YOUR SERIES. ANYTIME I SEE IT’S UPDATED IT MAKES MY DAY<3

TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: With how many ideas you guys have at this point I might just continue to write short scenarios for this AU with all the ideas you guys are giving me- it's absolutely amazing seeing what y'all come up with and I'm just living for it hahahaha! Thank you guys so much!

The week you had was... interesting to say the least.

Vox had challenged you to at least take up basic programming, claiming you were too impatient to learn.

So you, being the persistent and stubborn you-

Decided to prove him wrong.

Besides, it can't be that bad if he knows how to do it.

You wouldn't tell him because it'd probably make him butthurt-

But you were sure Vox was 1000% more impatient than you.

You took up computer science for extra credit, quickly learning the ins and outs of basic coding.

It was just a world of syntax and numbers but you definitely found it fun.

And useful too-

Especially when you wanted to explicitly screw with others.

Vox may or may not have slightly taught you how to hack.

But you weren't using it for anything bad!

Just to change the final grade of some asshole students so they'd have to repeat the class.

That's what they get for just randomly tripping you in the hall the other day.

Vox was slightly proud but also kind of concerned-

You'd definitely end up where he was at this rate.

Thankfully though, you decided not to do anything too crazy since.

Instead you've been messing around on your devices alongside the tech overlord.

From practicing how to send him encrypted messages-

To straight up just shitposting all over his monitors.

It's not so fun now is it Voxxy?

You would sometimes try to transfer him around to other devices that weren't your own to see if he could actually do anything.

Well, he could- but it only worked if he was directly connected to it.

Meaning he had to be plugged in.

How he was able to connect to all your devices wirelessly without limitation?

Neither of you had a clue.

You both first tested it on your best friend's phone, only for Vox to immediately go back to your computer and blow up your notifications.

"Nope nope nope nope, that's the last time I let you plug me into some random fucking phone-"

"What?? What happened??? And it's not random, it's (Friend Name)'s Phone."

"Dollface, you know Valentino right? The one I told you about?"

"The pornstar? What about?"

You didn't exactly like where this conversation was going.

You had an inkling where it would end and you were already cringing.

"Yeeaaaah, I've known him for quite some time so I would think I've seen nearly everything."

"Get to the point Vox-"

"And yet I am somehow utterly disgusted by your friend's search history."

"Yeah, uh... I'd rather you don't tell me."

"I figured. Though it makes me curious about what yours looks like."

That gave you pause, given how Vox had practically invaded your entire computer-

Hell, he even gave your files a new sorting system-

You were surprised he hadn't gone through your search history.

Of all the things you'd think that was what he'd ransack first.

"You haven't checked my search history yet?"

"Why would I? It's not like I'm trying to find your secret porn stash or something."

"Bruh, why would I even have that."

"Your friend had one, I just guessed."

"Touché."

You were a little touched that Vox cared about you enough not to really dig into your secrets.

Or well, the things you wanted to keep secret.

For a big bad overlord, he was kind of a sweetheart.

"Okay now I definitely wanna see what you've got hidden in there-"

"FUCK OFF YOU STUPID OLD PICTUREBOX-"

"YOU CAN'T STOP ME BITCH-"

You know what, you retracted your previous statement.

He's a fucking jerk.

Vox quickly dug through your search history while the tiny desktop companion in his likeness refused to give you control over the cursor.

You couldn't stop him even if you tried.

His phone blew up from notifications with you cursing at him or just calling him names.

He just laughed at your dismay and continued to dig through.

Okay- wow.

While he didn't initially expect it from you, Vox reckoned he probably should've.

Much like how people had celebrity crushes, he figured you would have your own.

It just so happened that it wasn't a celebrity and it was a fictional character instead.

He kind of felt like someone slapped him in the face actually, even if he didn't know why.

"Soooooo- (Favorite Character Name) huh?"

"Shaddup-"

"This? This is your type???"

"IT'S A FICTIONAL CRUSH GET OVER IT-"

While you were practically steaming from the ears in embarrassment, Vox was just laughing and dealing with his mixed feelings.

On one hand, he found your reactions absolutely entertaining and hilarious.

On the other hand, he didn't even know who or what this character was and he already disliked them.

Just a gut feeling.

He continued to tease you for it though, bringing up more cringe parts of your search history much to your chagrin.

It wasn't really anything bad that you couldn't take, it was just so embarrassing that you'd rather he didn't dig any of it up.

So in the heat of the moment, wanting to get Vox off your computer- you plugged it into the only other active device he wasn't connected.

Your TV.

It was nearly instant, he went from teasing and texting to you to a befuddled face on the larger screen.

But what was more surprising, was he could actually see you this time.

It wasn't filtered over with static like when he'd first met you.

The live feed even had audio, which was just entirely unexpected too.

Who knew, plug a TV demon into his specific medium and he could actually operate properly?

But that's how you guys ended up figuring out how to connect his digital presence to your TV.

By entire surprise and from just fucking around.

"Oh my god that worked-"

"(Y/N)? Holy hell! I can actually see you!"

"I did not think that would work-"

"Wow, are you really that short or is your TV just perched up that high?"

You just flipped him the bird and Vox laughed at you again.

Though, you couldn't help but smile because of it.

Well, at least now he could converse with you "properly" like he'd wanted to for a while.

Even if it did mean he'd need to take up your entire TV.

"Oh- OH WAIT- I've got an idea!"

Vox couldn't even question what you were doing before you ran out of the room and out of his sight.

So while waiting, he took a gander at the room you left him in.

It became abundantly clear that this was your living space too.

From the colors to the patterns, Vox smiled fondly as he recalled your old conversations where you would just tell him things about the things you liked.

Yeah, he could definitely see your touch in how the room was designed.

He raised an eyebrow when you giddily came back into the room with some colored paper, scissors and tape.

What-?

"Okay Doll, just what are you planning?"

"You'll see~!"

Your excitement kept him curious.

What were you drawing over there?

Weird timing for an arts and crafts project if you asked him.

It was only until you approached him and taped something to the screen did he actually grow confused.

He couldn't see what you did despite you doubling over in laughter.

What could've possibly been so funny that had you keeling from it?

By the time you could finally look at Vox without laughing your ass off, you used your phone to take a picture of how he looked.

Approaching the TV to show him just so he could see the photo as well.

Ah.

So that's what you found so funny.

You'd fashioned his outfit-

Poorly made but still recognizable-

Out of paper and taped it to the screen.

His hat on top and his suit dangling off the bottom.

Admittedly, it looked downright silly.

Especially with the proportions being so off thanks to the size of the TV screen.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N). Very funny."

"I'm making this shit my wallpaper, you look so goofy."

Vox just playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

If that was seriously all it took to make you laugh?

He'd do it again no questions asked.

Taking a peek at his internal clock though, he held back his disappointment that he had to leave when you were on such an elated high.

"Sorry to cut this short doll, but I need to disconnect. I've got a meeting in a few minutes."

"Hm? Then go and do what you need to do, I can always just plug you back in later. Good luck!"

The overlord chuckled when you raised a hand to pat the screen, he couldn't feel it but he wished he did.

"I don't need luck, but... thanks. See you."

"See you."

And just like that the screen fizzled out and returned to the smart TV homepage.

You'd sent the picture to Vox through your chats and he replied with a TV emoticon.

You giggled, course he would do that.

At least he didn't take offense to what you did-

Despite your poor art skills-

Maybe he found it as entertaining as you did?

Whatever, you switched the wallpaper on your phone to the new photo you had of Vox and laughed.

His confused expression really sealed the deal with how silly the picture was.

But imagine your surprise come morning when you realized he didn't switch the wallpaper back to his trademark grin.

You sort of expected him to, especially given that he'd done so with all your past attempts to change your wallpaper.

The fact he left it alone made you smile.

And as the day began and Vox left you a morning greeting-

You just shot him one back and got up to prepare for the day.

You figured the day would be just fine.

Yeah, you guys would be just fine.

A/N: Ooough this was a long one but I had a lot of fun writing it! I'll post the masterlist afterwards when I grab all the links to the posts and I'll just be continuing the other interludes before I post the chapter with Reader's death. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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hyuckmov · 11 months

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haechan - all my demons have your smile

demon!haechan x angel!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff if you're into it wc: 9.6k <3 warnings: dubcon-y & morally gray (reader is a literal angel and doesn't know a lot about anything so it's hard to give informed consent, haechan manipulates her emotions and dreams bc he's a demon), heavy on the corruption kink, wet dreams, masturbating (m), thigh riding / grinding, blowjobs and oral, fingering, haechan thick cock agenda, power dynamics (supernatural edition), sweet aftercare, overstim other warnings: angel demon lore is a mix of representation in pop culture and media and is very NOT based on its religious connotations a/n: happy birthday to me...ngl i wrote 40% of this either tipsy or drunk. this is for all the people who requested being corrupted by haechan….please lmk what you think i hope you guys like this!!! thank u to @saintlyhyuck for giving me the idea for writing demon hyuck <3

haechan thinks your reaction when he calls you angel is like a shot of pure pleasure in his veins.

"hey, angel."

you spin around, mouth falling open, flush high on your cheeks. "how could you…?"

in the dim light of the club, haechan can hardly believe his luck. he raises his eyebrows, leaning in closer to you, delighting in the way you tense. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously.

how could he? more like how couldn't he, what with the way you looked then. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously.

"what do you mean?" he smiles innocently, tilting his head to the side. he has to bite back a laugh at the sound of confusion you make, a small whimper in your throat. "angel is what i call all the pretty girls i see."

at the stricken look on your face, he lets his mouth fall open deliberately slowly, widening his eyes mockingly. "unless…you're a real angel?"

you look like a deer in headlights, trembling slightly, unsure of what to say. it was only your first night in the human world. you'd heard there were demons and devils roaming the streets, monsters and spirits hidden in shadowy corners who would hurt you for your wings, worse ones who would strip you of your skin. creatures who were dying to get ahold of an angel and figure out what made you glow, harvest parts of you which were so holy and undamaged. you weren't supposed to let anyone know who you were, least of all strange boys in dark and shadowy places.

haechan can feel his body burning. it's as if he's hyper-attuned to each breath you take, every single particle of you seeping with untainted innocence, something breathtakingly pure about the way you shake in your flimsy white dress. anticipation claws against his insides – he wants you, wants to learn every part of you, drink in your sweetness and choke on it.

he's never ruined an angel before. the thought of it sends a heavy pulse through him, right to his gut.

"relax…" he soothes. he wants to touch your skin, but he knows you might just burst into pure flame out of sheer fright. he softens his gaze as much as possible, tries to dim the desire. a soft smile on his face, he places a hand on his chest, to where his heart should be — if he had one.

"i'm an angel too."

you gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth, relief flooding your system. "really?"

he nods, lips morphing into a comforting smile. his hand reaches out to touch your upper arm, stroking your skin soothingly. he almost moans with how soft-to-touch it is, your angel's glow tickling his fingers with warmth, spreading through his body and churning inside him.

"of course," he murmurs. "you're safe with me."

"if you're an angel…" you lean closer to him, wary of others who may be listening to your conversation. you couldn't believe your luck, finding another angel the first night you got here. breath fanning lightly over his face, you whisper, "where are your wings?"

he can't help it – his breath hitches. he's able to count your every eyelash, feel your chest rise and fall, pretty pink mouth so close to his. there's no suspicion at all in the way your eyes sparkle with innocent curiosity, wide and trusting.

he can't help it — he wants to see them fill with tears.

"you want to see my wings?" he murmurs, leaning down. brushing a light hand on your shoulder, he skims the glow of your skin, reaching behind you and letting the tips of his fingers brush the feathers of your wings.

you still. a strange feeling spreads through you, the room swimming slightly as it makes your head go light, settling deep inside your bones with a dark pulse. this is something you've never felt in heaven – and you're not sure if you want to scream, or run, or guide his hand further on your shoulder blades, letting them linger on places you're sure no angels would ever touch…

"can you show me?" your voice, achy and soft, is the only sound he can hear.

and he can't help but wonder, as he guides you towards the back door with a hand on the small of your back, your footsteps barely touching the ground, holy light misting around your body in dizzying waves, – what is an angel like you doing in a place like this?

you close your eyes, but open them to find yourself sitting up in an unfamiliar bedroom.

not the one you had just gone to sleep in - this one had dark silk sheets instead of your white ones, a red glow cast over everything from the lights above. it made you dizzy, and your mouth felt dry as you turned and realised you weren't alone.

the angel you just met was sleeping peacefully next to you, his wings tucked out of sight, skin glowing slightly even under the red light. one of his large hands rests on your thigh, and you suck in a breath at the sight of his veins protruding from his arms and over the back of his hands, long fingers seeming to burn against your skin.

something stirs in you, a heat you've never felt before that creeps all the way from your navel to the tips of your toes. you didn't know why, but you felt the urge to press your thighs together, letting out a small sigh at the tiny bit of relief it allowed you. you hardly know what you're doing, as if you're being controlled by some higher power or deeper desire, when you guide his hand between your legs with your own trembling ones.

his fingers twitch, and you freeze.

his eyes open slowly, nothing innocent about the way his eyes slide over your body and stop at where his hand is nestled between your legs. parting his lips, his eyes flick back to yours, a careful eyebrow raised.

"angel…what are you doing?"

"that's called a dream, sweetheart."

rubbing your eyes, you steady yourself on the kitchen counter. "so it's not real?"

"it's not," haechan assures you, kindly.

"is it…like…my imagination?"

"some dreams can be pure imagination, but sometimes dreams are our mind's way of letting us know what we want," he explains, purposefully. you sit there, lost in thought, as he brings out dishes from the kitchen and encourages you to eat breakfast.

while in the human realm, you were bound by the limitations of any human form – needing to sleep, being able to dream, having to eat and drink to sustain your energy. and although there were still aspects of your divinity which spilled over: such as your wings, and the heavenly fire which made you glow, haechan was much more interested in the other ways mortality would change you.

your propensity to feel lust and desire, primarily.

"so…" you chew on your lip. "the people in my dream…are they…actually….in there with me?"

haechan smiles to himself. "i don't know what you mean, angel," he fakes a look of genuine confusion when his eyes refocus on you. "who did you dream about last night?"

"you," you answer, honestly.

"really? what were we doing?"

you drop your fork.

haechan laughs lightly when you fumble for it on the ground, smiling serenely back at you when you straighten up, looking at him through your lashes.

"but, if you don't know…" you tilt your head to the side, slight hopefulness in your voice, "doesn't that mean you weren't actually in my dream last night?"

"well…" cocking his head to the side to match your own movements, he relishes the way you tense up when he makes eye contact. "we'll only know for sure if you tell me what you were dreaming about."

your hands fly to your mouth and you shake your head. haechan watches with fascination at the way you mist sparkling light, blush tinting your cheeks with embarrassment. "i don't want to say," you whisper.

you don't have to say anything. haechan still remembers the way you had looked at him when he opened his eyes, the thrill of feeling you guide his hand to your core.

dipping into your dreams had been easier than usual, your mind offering up no resistance at all and handing over all reins of control to him.

"angel?"

it takes him a second to realize you're referring to him.

"yes?"

"i realised i don't know your name."

he only hesitates for a split second. "it's haechan," he decides. full-sun – a typical angel name. you test it on your tongue, carefully forming the sounds, and he savors it.

he can't wait for nighttime again.

the second time you wake up in a dream, you almost feel at ease in the familiar red-light flooded bedroom, relaxing further when you realise it's empty this time.

this is just my imagination, you remind yourself.

getting up from the bed, you tiptoe over to the window, looking out at the starry sky. it calms you even further, giving you the courage to turn around and explore your surroundings. aside from a bedside cabinet, and the ridiculously large bed, the room was quite empty.

wondering what lay beyond the bedroom, you make your way to the door of the bedroom, and your hand is just on the doorknob when-

"angel."

if this was just your imagination, then why did it seem so real?

haechan lay on the bed you woke up in, one hand fisting the black silk sheets while the other traced down his body, writhing with what looked like pain. his eyes were closed, lips parted as he let out small sounds of some emotion you couldn't quite place.

even as you try to take in what you're seeing, your mind races as you pick up a million other details. you've never seen him in clothes like this before — straps and buckles adorning his chest and pulling in his waist sharply so that you can catch every heaving breath he takes. and when his hand slides lower, ghosting under the waistline of his pants, the soft fabric shifts and you can faintly see the shape of something twitching between his legs.

"haechan?" crossing over to the bed quickly, you place a hand on his shaking thigh, withdrawing it as if scalded when his back arches and he lets out a moan. "sorry-" you blurt out, "did i hurt you?"

"angel," he whimpers, eyes still closed as he rubs his palm over the front of his pants, his other trailing up under his shirt and teasing over his chest. "fuck-" you suck in a sharp breath at the profanity.

you know there's something wrong about the scene before you. there's nothing holy in the way he tilts his head back to let out a slew of sounds, the line between what was pain and what was pleasure blurring as his lips glisten with saliva, and when he slides that familiar veiny hand underneath his waistband, you could swear he purred.

and surely, there was something desperately wrong with you too, because the ache between your thighs that you felt the last night was now burning something unbearable, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, hear what sounds he would make under your fingertips, beg him to open his eyes so you can see that hungry look again.

his body stills.

his breathing slowly calms down, his hands slowly releasing himself from under his clothes, falling limply on the sheets. silence fills the room again and static buzzes so loud in your ears you feel like you're about to burst into flames. you don't know what you're doing, as you reach for one of his hands, guiding it towards your mouth as you dart out the tip of your tongue to taste the sticky white substance coating his fingertips.

and then his eyes open, staring directly at you.

"haechan?"

"mmhm?"

"did you dream, yesterday?" you ask him, hesitantly.

"yeah," he answers, easily.

"what did you dream about?"

"nothing much. i was in bed, –" a small gasp, and another sound as the mug in your hands slips and falls onto the table with a small thud. he grins, continuing to work on the wards guarding your front door, listening to you clean up behind him. "why? was i in your dream again?"

a long pause. "kind of."

when he turns, you're looking at him guiltily, hands clasped tightly in front of you as you twist your fingers this way and that.

"angel…" he soothes, but the name only makes you shiver. crossing over to you, he pulls you into a comforting hug, your body relaxing under his touch as you lean your head against his chest. you can hear his words through his chest, a low hum filling your ears and making you feel so safe.

"the dreams…" you admit, softly. "they're so scary…and confusing…i wish i didn't have to dream anymore, i don't think i like it at all…"

"do you want me to stay by your side when you fall asleep again? i can wake you when the dreams make you uncomfortable."

you nod, eyes shining up at him with adoration and gratitude.

he just can't wait for nighttime again.

you can't fall asleep.

haechan holds you against his chest, one of his thighs slotted carelessly between yours. he's resting peacefully, looking angelic under the moonlight, an arm slung protectively around your waist. but if it weren't for your white sheets and your familiar bedroom – adorned with flowers you had picked and shiny trinkets he collected for you, you would have mistaken it for another dream because of the desperate heat that throbbed inside you.

you didn't know what to do to relieve the pain, body shifting clumsily as you tried to move your hips or rub your thighs against each other, the movement blocked by the way your legs were tangled together. frustrated, you give your hips a rough pulse against his thigh, and freeze when the sensation offers you more than a little relief, an insidious sweetness in your core.

you move your hips again, grinding gently on his plush thighs, then a little harder as you realise it feels better the more friction there is as you rub against him. and now you're positively humping his leg, breaths coming quick and fast, whines seeping out from behind your closed lips as you try to make the pain go away, chasing pleasure as it comes.

"angel?"

a rough hand grips your waist, and you gasp.

haechan's wide eyes meet yours, darker than you've ever seen before, and for some reason when his hand squeezes your side you find yourself shifting even more uncontrollably against him, seeking the friction you craved.

"i'm sorry!" your voice comes out as a whimper, as you try to back away from him. the room is burning hot, dizzying heat making you gulp. "i don't know what came over me, i just really-" your whole body flooded with shame and guilt, you pull his hand away from where it squeezes your waist.

"hey, hey, it's okay…" in the moonlight, you can see his face morph into an expression of understanding, a sense of authority in the way he helps you sit up and pulls you into his lap. he sweeps you into his arms, and you feel safer than ever before as you straddle him, your body melting with his as you nuzzle your face into his chest, still feeling the aftershocks of embarrassment when you realize he just caught you doing something so unspeakable to his unconscious body.

you whimper out another apology, letting each stroke of your hair calm you down as he hums, low in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your core in a way that both thrills and frightens you.

"is this what the dreams were about?"

"yes," you mumble, the sound of your heartbeat still rushing in your ears. timidly, you lift your head to meet his gaze. "i don't know why this is happening, i've never felt this way before…"

"like this?" his hand slowly snakes down in between your legs, cupping your core with his large hand. the heel of his hand presses against some part of your core, and you keel over into him again, body shuddering as your hips buck into his hand instinctively, as if you were made to react that way. soft whimpers rise from the back of your throat as you nod in response to his question, body moving clumsily as you grind against his fingers.

haechan swallows, hard. the image of his angel, dressed in that tissue-paper thin white nightgown, humping desperately against his hand like a bitch in heat, was more arousing than he could have ever anticipated. he wants to push you down to the bed and fuck you hard, splitting you apart on his cock and making you beg to cum, he wants to-

"help me-," you pant in his ear, hips now moving in jagged circles, as if your body can't decide whether to lean into the pleasure or move away from it. "please, i don't know what's happening…"

"angel, do you trust me?" he murmurs, quietly.

the answering moan you let out punctures the air. "mmphh…

yes…" you gulp, hands now pawing at his chest as he ghosts his fingers over your clothed core.

"then trust me when i say that all angels experience this," he advises, calmly. you're enraptured by his every word, and he leans even closer to you as he presses an insistent finger against your clit, smiling to himself as your body shudders.

hopefully, you gasp into his neck. "really?"

dipping his fingers under your panties, he begins to rub slow circles on your clit, relishing the way you shake under his touch. "of course," he murmurs, voice dropping an octave.

pressure begins to build up in your core as you submit to the feeling. you close your eyes, feeling him rub and pinch at your clit in a way that makes your hips jerk and your thighs go weak. you push your hips into his lap, not even really sure about what you're doing, being met with something hard that makes you whimper as it ghosts over your clothed cunt. strangely, when your hips meet his, haechan also lets out a pained groan, the hand at your core speeding up, wet sounds filling the room as he dips lower and lower, fingers tracing around your slit as he throws his head back and lets out a moan.

"am i hurting you?" you ask, panicked, hips stuttering to an unsteady halt as you place both palms flat on his chest, trying to push yourself away from what was threatening to unravel you. "haechan i'm so sorry, i must be really bad at this-"

he interrupts you with a searing kiss, his mouth moving against yours, tongue stroking into your mouth and claiming all your sounds. pulling you back against his body, his hips drag sinfully upwards, grinding into you with just the smallest hint of desperation.

feeling you fuck yourself against his clothed cock, mind clouded with desire and not a single idea of what you were doing – knowing he could corrupt you in so many different ways, had his head spinning with all the possibilities.

"you're perfect, angel." pushing you so you lay flat against the bed, he clambers over your body, all the while sponging kisses on your neck with a sweet tenderness.

"but," you shake your head, trying to get rid of the haze in your mind. "you sound like you're in pain, and-"

"you wanna make it better, angel?"

nodding vigorously, you sit up and almost hit your forehead against his. "please!" you beg, hands fumbling beyond your control as you struggle with the the waistband of his pants, trying to tug them down so you can see what he was doing in your last dream, so you could help with where it hurts. "i want to help, i want to make you feel good…"

his hands sweep your wrists into a tight grip, and your movements freeze. you look up at him, breath caught in your throat.

"from now on, angel…" he traps your hands above your head, his other dragging your nightgown up your waist with a flat palm, still trying to feel as much soft skin under his hands as possible. "can you be quiet for me? can you do that, sweetheart?"

you nod, bottom lip snug as you bite down on it. he knows you won't be able to hold it for long.

"i'm going to make you feel so good, angel," he breathes, hand now tugging your panties down your legs at a sinful pace. he answers your silent question with a smile. "feel how wet you are? do you know what this means, baby?" he taunts, quietly.

"all of this…" he slides two fingers against your slick core, smiling as your hips thrust up, your body responding to him and completely out of your control. "all of this shows me how much you like me, angel."

one long finger slides into your core, and he lets out a filthy groan at the way your tight pussy sucks him in, tight and eager.

"have you ever touched yourself here before?"

you shake your head. "i didn't know i could," you mumbled, hips still stuttering, fucking yourself on his finger. "haechan…it feels so…"

he starts to slide his finger out, thrusting it slowly against your walls, this thumb comes out to rub your clit, and your back arches, a gasp wrenched from your throat as you cum, uncontrollably, all over his hand.

pulling his hand out from your core and freeing your wrists, he silences every single one of your gasps with a kiss, tenderly nipping at your lips as his hands roam over your body. he just made his angel cum for the first time.

"m-more," you pant, hands scratching down his back as you attempt to thrust up against his stomach. "haechan- i don't mean to be greedy, but i want… i want…"

two fingers slide easily into your core, your moans morphing into a pleasurable sigh as your eyes roll back in your head, drunk on a feeling you've never felt before. a slow heat crawls around your body, wrapping itself around you and suffocating until all you can think about are his veiny hands, the hard length in his pants, and the way you still felt empty even as he pushed a third finger into you.

"you see how your cunt just sucks my fingers in?" his voice is baby-talk pitched, and you fall even harder under his spell, nodding vigorously as your thighs clamp shut around his hand. "such an insatiable, needy slut… thought you were supposed to be an angel, hmm?" you claw at his body, hips moving in time with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you.

haechan feels like he's in seventh heaven, the way you're losing your mind over just his hand, obsessive over a feeling you can't even articulate. he crooks his fingers against your walls, a triumphant glow thundering in his chest when he sees you fall apart even more.

it's when you're on the brink of cumming for a second time, your body glowing like a bonfire, spilling light all over the room, when he suddenly withdraws his hand. leaning back against the headboard, he tugs his pants down and feels his thick cock slap up against his stomach, precum glistening from the angry red tip.

he's not prepared for the sight of you, on all fours, crawling towards him, eyes wide and begging. as if in a trance, your hand reaches towards his cock, and your palm wraps around it curiously, giving it a hard stroke. his lets out another groan, one of his own hands wrapping around yours and encouraging you to squeeze even harder, focusing your attention on the tip and covering it with your fingers.

"i know a way that can make both of us feel good." he makes sure there's nothing but sincerity in his eyes as he watches your head shoot up in excitement.

"how?"

pulling you into his lap again, and whispering his words sinfully against your lips, he coaxes you with a quick nip to your bottom lip, a swipe of his tongue against yours. "let me fuck your sweet cunt, hm?" he pants. fingers sliding expertly into your cunt, he wraps an arm around your waist as he makes scissoring motions in you, stretching you out. "bet you feel so empty…" he pouts, nodding sympathetically towards you. "i can fill you up so good, angel, you'll realize this is what you were made for…"

your mind is slipping out of your grasp. you forget everything about being an angel, about how weird it felt to be touched like this, how you never once had another angel touch you between your legs, ideas of purity and innocence and sin blurring in a happy haze.

"are you…" you gulp, eyeing the girth of his cock, the way it twitched under your palm as you squeezed. "are you sure it'll fit…in me?" you wonder aloud.

"would you rather have me fuck your throat, angel?"

"would that work?" and fuck, you're back on your knees, head dangerously close to his cock as your tongue darts out, licking up a shiny bead of precum from his slit. he's frozen in place as he watches you nuzzle your face against it, making a soft whiny sound at the back of your throat as you messily tongue at the base, his cock twitching against the soft skin of your cheek. "i don't…" you lap tentatively at his tip, using a hand to steady yourself on his thigh, the other gripping his cock and gently sucking the tip into your mouth, withdrawing when you feel the stretch against your lips. "i don't think it'll fit…"

"come here," he croaks, arms coming up to steady you as you rush up to meet him, doe-eyes searching his for answers to this desperate desire he's instilled within you.

"i need you," you whimper, frustratedly. "haechan please, i'll be good for you, just make this feeling go away…"

his cock teases over your entrance, and your moan rips through the half-finished sentence on your lips.

"feels good?" he murmurs, kissing you deeply again as he thrusts up gently into you. "sit on it, don't be shy angel…"

steadying yourself on his shoulders, you sink down on him, stopping every few seconds as you feel a slight stretch. the prep you've done with his fingers and all the teasing allowing your walls to give way to him, snugly sucking him in as you pulse around his member. every time you whimper, wings fluttering where they were folded against your back, he kisses you gently, hands stroking up and down your spine and distracting you from the sensation in your lower half.

"just a bit more, baby…" he bottoms out in you, a satisfied groan rumbling in his chest as he squeezes you into his embrace, your arms wrapped around him, craving his skin against yours as you shudder. he's already ripping your nightgown from your body, the luscious feeling of bare skin making you purr in delight.

your palms skid over his skin, settling on his shoulders as he gives a rough thrust upwards, and you feel his cock drag heavy against your walls. his hand moves purposefully over to your clit, mimicking a vibrating motion with his fingers so you only clench tighter around him. when you cum again – the inner sides of your thighs now so wet that the filthiest sounds fill the room every time your hips meet, he feels lke he could do this forever.

slowing down his movements, he gently pushes your hair out of your face to give you a little break. "how do you feel, angel?" he asks, softly.

"g-good…" you hiccup, swivelling your hips this way and that, trying to find a rhythm now that he had stilled within you.

he hums, still not moving, enjoying the way you squirm in his lap. "something wrong?"

"it hurts…" you whine, now bouncing on his lap, nails digging into his shoulders. "it hurts when you don't move, haechan, please…"

"do you believe me when i said you were made for me?"

"yes," you rasp out, as he starts to fuck into you again, making you feel every ridge and vein on his cock as he grinds up into you, blunt tip insistent against your sweet spot and making you feel that mind-numbing pleasure again.

"is this all you're good for, angel? sitting in my lap, looking pretty…" he bites down on your neck, and you let out a soft cry. "being fucked open on me…"

you nod, words leaving you as you melt under his strong grip.

"making me so happy, angel," he murmurs, and you smile dopily up at him, panting.

"you like making me happy?'

you nod, swallowing hard as you work yourself into a frenzy, and he loves it, loves the way you rock your hips into his at an embarasing pace, sensitivity all at once too much for you and never enough. he watches as your eyes roll back into your head, wings bursting open with the sheer force of how hard you cum, walls squeezing him so tight that he can barely move as he lets go too. you gasp when you feel his warmth painting your walls, a new sensation on top of everything you've experienced that night making you let out a distressed whine.

"be good for me, angel, hmm?" he coaxes, pulling you harder down onto his lap so you can't free yourself from his embrace. "let me fill you up."

dumbly, succumbing to the way he pulls you in for another kiss, you let your eyelids flutter shut, an overwhelming sense of fatigue flooding your entire system. until the room goes blurry at the edges, and the last thing you're aware of is haechan's hands sliding low on your navel, feeling where he was buried deep inside you, hands pressing against the way you bulge out — his pretty little angel stretched out and filled with him.

he's never fucked an angel before, so it almost comes as a shock when he catches a glimpse of you on his way out of your bathroom, immobile on your bed, skin drained of all its heavenly glow, a dullness so abrupt he freezes.

if he was to be honest, which he almost never had to be, his original plan had included leaving immediately after he got you in his bed. he had only been drawn to the idea of defiling an angel, filling you up with a need you never felt before, staining the glow of innocence that lit up your skin from beneath.

he wanted the sight of you on your knees — of tears rolling down your cheeks. but he never prepared for this –

haechan.

your voice murmurs in his head, and he can hear how hoarse and fragile it is. he doesn't dare to move as he watches you, so motionless you're barely breathing, your body shielded by your wings and drawing his attention to how your feathers look like they would crumble into ashes.

your voice creeps into his head again, and it's like some form of sick retribution – first he plays with your dreams, and now he doesn't know if it's really your voice in his mind or if it's some sort of guilt that seeped out of you and into him.

haechan?

he moves without meaning to, the next thing he knows he's sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands sliding against the sheets towards you.

"angel?"

your eyes open to look at him, and through the haze of fatigue and your slow blinking, he can see that you're terrified.

what's happening to me?

he touches the tip of your wing. he pitches his voice low, and soothing.

"you're just adjusting from being in the human world," he murmurs.

what if what we just did was wrong? tears well up in your eyes, and your lips part in a silent cry. haechan, i've never felt like this before…

he shushes you with a soft sound, leaning over to gather up your limbs and hold you against his chest, rocking you back and forth as he murmured praises into your hair.

"how could it be wrong if it felt so good, angel?" wiping away your tears with a careful finger, he smiles encouragingly at you, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

you nod, hanging onto his every word, letting it wash over you as your truth.

"and also…" his voice dips. "didn't you see how happy you made me just now?" he murmurs, lips nipping at your ear. "don't you like making me happy?"

you nod again.

hesitating, his hand cups your face, stroking over your jaw. he knows what would make you stronger again — something he read about angels surfacing in his mind before, recalling how your power was usually most concentrated in the column of your throat, and why it was extra sensitive. creatures would slit your throat for just a taste of your angel's grace, but if he were just to touch you at your sweet spot, feel your divinity underneath his fingertips and coax it to grow stronger with his own powers…

quietly, so as not to startle you, he slides his hand to your neck, tracing his fingertips over where your pulse point would be. your body begins to stir as he rubs circles closer to the back of your neck, limbs twitching back to life and falling limp again.

"how does it feel, angel?" he asks, softly.

your lips part. "strange…" your voice is raw, a hollow and broken sound. "never felt this before…"

he reaches the nape of your neck, and suddenly your hand flies up to grab his wrist in a strong hold – halting his movements and causing him to freeze as your nails dig into his skin, threatening to pierce through to his veins. "don't-!"

"i'm not going to hurt you," he murmurs, voice dripping patience and tenderness as he slowly pries each of your fingers off his wrist, interlocking his other hand with yours. "this is going to feel really good, okay?"

your body continues to squirm against his, finger locking his in a death grip as he ghosts his hand over the nape of your neck, finally locating your most vulnerable spot judging by the way you let out a soft sound in his ear. he applies more pressure, massaging his fingers in soothingly and whispering praises to drown out your whimpering.

and sure enough, your glow begins to come back – starting from where his hand held yours, a warm golden light which flowed through your veins and under your skin, your body heating up and enveloping him in that blissful glow again. you taste sweet when he presses a careful kiss to your collarbone, and if he listens closely he can almost hear your body hum with power, wings fluttering against your back as their ashy color seems to wash itself off, replaced with the pristine glow he'd taken a liking to.

"haechan?"

"yes, angel?"

"when can we do that again?" you mumble, shyly.

fuck that – he was beginning to grow obsessed with you.

strolling with you outside, haechan lets the fresh air wash over him and calm him down. you look ethereal next to him, passerby's eyes glazing over when they catch sight of the way you seem to glide rather than walk, peering curiously at the different shop windows and dreamily staring at the stars above. possessively, he wraps an arm around your waist just so anyone who looks at you looks at him too, and realises you're his as much as he was yours.

"this is so pretty," you whisper to him, tugging him to a display of diamond jewelry up ahead. he's learnt that you like shiny things and the smell of spring-time, that he could make your skin glitter by gently nipping at your bottom lip when he kissed you. looking at you and completely ignoring the jewels behind glass, he takes in the familiar look of love in your eyes and smiles.

he could have robbed the store for you before you even had the time to blink. a snap of his fingers and the very necklace you were pointing at could have made its way onto your neck. or he could have had some fun with you and convinced you to steal it, coax you into doing one more terrible thing.

but he pulls you into the store anyway – even as you latch onto his arm nervously, tugging at his sleeve telling him you don't need the pretty jewels. but still he patiently converses with the store attendant, encouraging you to pick out the pieces you liked the most, enjoying the genuine happiness in your eyes as he spoiled you with gifts.

when the attendant is busying himself in the back room, you peek over at him with barely contained excitement, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"i'll make it up to you," you breathe, arms hooked around his neck.

"how?"

"i…" you look at him through your lashes, and he can feel your skin heat up. "i can do that thing you talked about last time…"

"what thing?" he presses, pulling you closer so all of your attention is focused on him.

you barely notice, caught up in your thoughts. "when i asked…and you told me…"

"angel," he says, lowly. his voice is more raspy than he thought it would be, rough with need. "i won't know what you mean if you don't say it-"

"you can fuck my throat," you say, softly. he searches your eyes and sees that you're embarrassed, yes, even a little guilty at the crude words which your lips just formed, but there's no trace of fear at all. you trust him wholly and completely, your breathing tinged with desperation as it picks up, as you brush up closer to him. when he doesn't respond, you hesitate a little, trying to decipher his expression. "if…if you still want to."

"want to?" he murmurs.

"i might not be very good at it, but you can teach me-"

groaning, he swallows the rest of your sentence with a hungry kiss, the kind that lifts you off your feet and makes you feel like you're flying and falling all at once.

he takes you home in an instant, dropping the bags of necklaces and diamonds as he pushes you roughly against the bedroom door. you slide to your knees in between his spread legs, his pretty angel, eyeing him with a maddeningly innocent look of wonder on your face.

"how…how are you going to…"

"do you want me to teach you?"

you nod excitedly, hands now stroking his thighs absentmindedly, and he has to stifle a groan.

"what if…" he clears his throat. "what if i changed my mind? what if i don't want to teach you anymore?"

"please-" your eyes widen with fear. "i'll be good for you..." he still looks unconvinced, so more words fall at random from your lips. "and if i'm not good enough, you can punish me-"

pulling you up, he kisses you harshly. it was almost as if you were rotten through and through, and it was all because of him.

"i don't think there will be a need for punishments, angel," he assures you, gently pushing you back down on your knees as he shoves his pants down, tongue poking into his cheek and stretching his puffy lips apart as he watches the way you eye his cock almost hungrily.

you start out by taking just the tip into your mouth, suckling on it lightly and letting go with a gasp when you feel like you can't breathe. he trains you through it, coaxing you to take more and more, holding your head down when you feel like giving up and stroking your face encouragingly every time you smile back at him, lips messy with drool and precum, eager for his approval.

he finally gets you to sink down on him — feel your hot wet tongue licking over his veins, shoving your way through and choking yourself on his length, nose hitting his navel as your nails dig into his thighs with pain, trying desperately hard to breathe through your nose like he taught you as he fucks his hips up experimentally.

it's like one of his filthiest fantasies, the way he pulls out to cum all over your face — your mouth lewdly open and trying to lick up as much of him as you could, unaware of how it made you look.

"i'm sorry, angel," and he swears he almost feels it, as he pushes his fingers deep into you, rewarding you for your good behavior. "next time, i won't make it so messy."

but you shake your head vigorously, back arching into his chest as your thighs clamp around his hand. "'m always making a mess of you too," you mumble, blush spreading to the tips of your ears as you smile up at him. "i don't mind you making a mess of me."

drawing away from your body, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time he crawls down to situate himself between your legs. he keeps his eyes on you so he can catch the first look of surprise, confusion, and pure desire that spreads across your face when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

"sometimes, i wish you could hear the things you say to me the way that i hear them." he laps at your entrance, and you swear you see stars. "you're so filthy, angel."

and in the darkness of the room, you glow even brighter with pride.

haechan feels a little stupid right now, sitting in his booth, letting some human girl put her hands all over him and hoping you're watching.

"i'll only be a minute," he had murmured into your ear. "have something to take care of."

and for the past 5 minutes he's played his part well – fingers tilting her chin up so he can whisper words into her ear and brush his lips against her neck. playing with strands of her hair, eyes half-lidded and body slumped against hers, legs carelessly spread. he knows it's making her dizzy simply being around him, his body radiating lust.

it's when she slides into his lap that he finally feels your eyes on him, picking up on the way your breath hitches in a small gasp from all the way across the room. he doesn't bother to hide his smile as he rubs his thumbs on the girl's bare waist in slow, tantalizing circles. begging for you to take the bait.

all the way across the room, your body tenses, hands trembling slightly as your vision zeroes in on haechan and the girl draped over him. you watch as she guides his eager hands up her thighs, the glint of his smile almost blinding in the dark. something roars inside your chest, clawing at your lungs, an acidic something you've never felt before threatening to melt you from the inside out as you watch her lean in towards him, lips dragging across his jaw where you had kissed him last.

haechan closes his eyes when he feels her lean in, lips falling open as he mimics the look of someone lost in pleasure, hoping to rile you up even more. her lips barely brush his skin before he feels something searing hot take its place, pure pain rippling up from his palms where he was touching her skin. his eyes shoot open as he sits up with a jolt, but he doesn't have to look long to understand what happened.

the lifeless body of the human girl slumps to the dirty floor of the club. towering above her, wings fully extended, skin glowing so bright he could hardly make out your features, you look down at him with gold flashing in your eyes.

"when you said you had something to take care of, did you mean her?"

exhilaration races through him, your jealousy and your anger feeding each pump of blood in his veins.

"angel-"

he starts to speak, but you cut him off with a tight hand on his wrist.

"no."

light briefly darts across his vision, the scene melting like wax as your bedroom materialises soundlessly around the both of you.

he didn't even know you could do that.

when you let go of his wrist, your wings are folded again, your skin returned to its normal pale glow. but there's nothing normal about the way you sink onto him on the bed, his body pliant under your touch in a way he isn't even able to control, all semblance of the power he just gained draining from him as you put your hands on his chest.

"did i do something wrong?" you murmur, your voice lower than he had ever heard it. "is that why you went looking for her?"

his lips part, mouthing soundlessly as your weight shifts on him. he had forgotten how to speak, the way you were looking at him stealing his breath from his lungs and turning his mind to mush.

"why did you let her touch you?" you demanded, a slight growl to your voice he never heard before. "hm?"

"i'm s-sorry," he whispered.

"do you want her?" your eyes flash dangerously, your skin burning hot to touch now, wings rustling along your shoulder blades. your hair moving unnaturally despite there being no wind in the room, reaching out and curling in lazy tendrils at the base of his neck. "are you thinking of her right now?"

dazed and drunk on your voice, he shakes his head, eyes never moving from yours. drool glistens on his lips, his body numb under your spell.

"want me, haechan," you breathe, pressing yourself into him needily, dipping your head so you can feel his labored breathing on your lips, lips brushing his as you beg – when really you have him under your complete control. "tell me you want me, just me." you push your hips against him, and he can feel himself throb with need.

"i want you," he whimpers. "fuck, angel, i want you so bad, please-"

"show me," you murmur, your nails scratching down his chest and making him moan out breathily as you lift your weight from his. moving so you lie back against the headboard, you watch as he takes a second to catch his breath before scrambling up, eyes wild and movements jerky.

positioning himself in between your legs, his hands drag your skirt up your thighs haphazardly, breath hitching when he sees you're already bare for him.

"angel," he says without thinking, "fuck, angel, you're perfect." he dips his tongue into your cunt, moaning loudly and lewdly as your sweet arousal floods his tastebuds. sloppily moving his mouth over your folds, his tongue circles your clit expertly before dipping down to collect your juices. he moves his head this way and that, mindlessly holding you in place with strong arms as he licks his tongue as deep into you as it will go. your thighs clamp tight around his head, and he lets out a muffled sob of approval, his stiffened tongue pushing past your tight entrance and nose bumping your clit with his movements.

you can feel your climax approaching, your body trained by him to respond to his touches. thrusting your hips into his face, he frees a hand to slip a finger into your tight hole, mumbling with pleasure when he feels you suck him in.

"want my angel to cum," he begs, desperation dripping from his tone. the pads of his fingers brush your sweet spot, the warmth of your skin spiking again as the feeling makes you glow with pleasure, trapping him in a heat haze between your thighs. "my pretty angel," he hums approvingly, slipping in another finger. your hips twist this way and that but he pins you down firmly with his arm, stretching you out with his fingers as his lips move back to your clit. his mind is flooded with the thought of you and your pleasure, your small whimpers and each tremble of your body making his body buzz with satisfaction. his mind wiped clean of everything but your smell and taste. he spells out your name with his tongue, silken movements on your clit paired with rough drags of his fingertips against your walls finally making you release all over his face.

he moans as he laps it up, sticking his fingers in his mouth to savor it. dizzy, he blinks up at you, feeling lightheaded as reality rushes towards him in a tidal wave.

what the fuck did you just do to him?

"angel." he starts, shaking his head to clear it again, loosening himself from your grip. "what did you…"

"did I hurt you?" you cup his face in your hands in one swift movement, tilting his head up so his eyes remain fixed on yours. "haechan? is everything okay?"

it's the way you say his name that pulls him right under again. gold specks dance in your eyes as your voice lowers, and it's like you slow time, and he can see your every word hang in the air, feel your angel's glow seep from the pads of your fingers into his bones and liquify every particle of him.

"i-i…" he stammers. "angel…"

"why did you stop?" his pretty pink mouth falls open when you place a thumb on his lower lip, his eyes glazing over as you let out a needy whine. "haechan…"

wordlessly, because he's forgotten all forms of language, he pulls you into his lap, letting you straddle him as he blinks up at you adoringly. kissing your collarbones, he removes your dress with shaky movements, reduced to nothing more than a human, forgetting to use his powers entirely as he shoves his own clothes away.

his lips never leave your skin, sucking messy bruises and nuzzling his nose against your warmth. you're misting light in a hypnotic glow, and he's sure it's the reason why he's so hard it hurts, shaky hands now ghosting over your hips as he tries to stop himself from cumming untouched.

"will you be good for me?"

amidst the fog in his brain, arousal shoots through him when he hears the words rise from your throat, and he bucks his hips up instinctively. his cock slides against your folds, and he lets out a choked sob, gripping onto your hips even tighter as he throws his head back.

"i'm yours", he whimpers, hips shallowly thrusting up into you. a high pitched moan rips from his throat as he feels you sink down on him, gummy walls clenching onto him like never before.

"are you mine?" you murmur, neediness still dripping from every syllable even as you have him reacting to your slightest touches like a livewire. you circle your hips, causing his to stutter.

his arms wrap around your body, worshiping you with his touch. "i'm yours," he trembles, hips thrusting up to pound further into your heat. you clench hard around him, and he loses all control, cumming into you with an embarrassed whimper, his head falling against your chest. he slows to a stop as he feels himself coat your walls, sensitivity making him hiss.

"more," you urge, and his body reacts to the command before he realises what he's doing, thrusting up into you again as his voice cracks and jumps like a broken record. through tears in his eyes, he admires the way you look as you bounce on him, chest heaving and skin flushed, the soft sounds you make. he speeds up even as it hurts, a hand snaking in between your bodies to press at your clit, rubbing it in quick motions.

"angel," he whimpers, like a prayer, breathing rough and shallow. "angel." you trace a hand on his cheek, and he nuzzles his face into it, bucking up into you with more fervor. he'd do anything to make you feel good, in that moment, no matter what it took.

he cums when you do, feeling slick ooze out from where he was stuffed into you. he doesn't stop rubbing your clit, forcing your walls to clench in spasms around him. whimpering against your lips, you let him drive you into overstimulation as he fucks his spent cock into you again, dribbling out the last bit of cum he had left.

when he pulls out of you, letting out a last gasp of pain, your eyelids are already starting to droop. the room is cold and silent without your glow, and he watches dazedly as you drain of all light again, a dullness spreading from in between your wings, faster than the last time. his whole body feels sore and spent, his arms barely able to hold you up as you slump against him. you look fucked out, and ashen, and —

he pulls you in for a soft kiss. moving his mouth gently over yours, feeling stronger when you sigh into his mouth. his fingers caress the inner edge of your wings gently, moving to stroke comforting circles down your spine, his hand eventually trailing its way to the nape of your neck.

"haechan…"

"is this okay?" he murmurs, applying gentle pressure with his fingertips. your noses brush as you blink sleepily up at him, and he watches a little bit of glow flicker to life in your eyes, feeling your skin warm under his touch. you squirm a little in his arms, head nuzzling into his neck and throat letting out a soft whimper.

"why…" you bite your lip as he applies a bit more pressure, "why is it always you taking care of me?"

the answer comes to him easier than breathing. "because you're my angel."

"but i-"

he gently maneuvers you around in his lap, strong arms lifting you so your back faces him instead. brushing your hair aside and gathering it up in one hand with a tenderness you can't even begin to place, his plush lips begin to graze your neck, reverently sponging kisses on the sweet spot he's had burned into his memory. you tilt forward, tingles running down your spine, but his arms encircle you and pull you back until you're almost flush against his chest.

this time, when he presses a soft kiss to your skin, warmth rushes through you like a shot of pure light through storm clouds, your whole body alight.

"i want to take care of you too," you say, quietly. and then, bolder, "i don't know if i'm just weak because i haven't been here very long, but this never seems to affect you like it affects me…"

"you're not weak, baby," another kiss, a gentle brush of his forefinger. "you're just an angel."

"but you're an angel too," you insist.

haechan's chest aches.

you continue, "and you never seem to grow weak whenever we…whenever we…"

"that's because you're always so good for me." now burying his face in your neck, he pulls you closer in his arms, closing his eyes so he can breathe you in. "you're too good for me, angel."

you relax in his hold, and when he next opens his eyes, you're glowing as bright as all the stars in heaven put together.

haechan thinks of the way you reacted when he first called you angel, weeks ago, in this very club.

now, the air is sticky, and it clings to his skin too uncomfortably. bodies press up against him, eyes seeking his, but he doesn't meet any of them – his mind in a completely different place.

your skin glows gently even in the dark bedroom.

you lie on your chest, wings folded against the sheets, your face turned towards the side so that he can see just a hint of your features in the shadows. even as he backs towards the door, he feels the inexplicable urge to wake you from your sleep, if anything to see your eyes open again, drink in the doe-eyed sweetness. the entire time he sweeps through your apartment – carelessly erasing the traces of his presence, picking up his jacket, pocketing shiny trinkets he bought you, — he wishes you would wake up and cling close to him the way you always used to in the mornings. longing to feel the light on his skin again, your touch hesitant and needy all at once.

lust, envy, wrath, pride – all of these meant nothing to him, but watching the way they drained you, and realizing that by corrupting you he was killing you softly every night…it clawed at him like nothing ever had before.

looking up from his drink, he's startled to come face to face with a girl he's never seen before. her smile doesn't reach her eyes as she reaches out to touch his hand, fingers drawing practiced circles on his wrist.

he didn't tamper with your dreams the night he left, but still he wondered if you were dreaming of him.

he takes a deep breath.

"hey, angel."

taglist: @jenomov, @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi, @smwhrinthehaze, @yesohhsehun, @chimiwimi, @haechaniesunshine, @hyukiebb (can't tag- sorry!)

#haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #haechan scenario #haechan imagine #haechan au #nct smut #nct angst

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luvhu9hes · 4 months

Text

It Was Only a Kiss | EE73 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content, Minors DNI, Underage Drinking, P in V, Thigh Riding, Cursing, use of pet names (baby, princess), not proofread, Slight Angst (If I missed anything please let me know)

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: So, this is my first time ever writing something like this, this is also my first time writing smut. Please let me know what you think of this, but I'm also sensitive so please be nice abt it, thank you! All love - Chaela <3

"Come on y/n/n please, it's been so long since we've gone out together" Lydia pleads as I try to hide under my comforter. Normally I would love to go out and party with her, but ever since she started dating our friend Mark I've turned into a major third wheel. Don't get me wrong, I love the two of them and how happy they make each other, but sometimes I'd like to be able to enjoy myself without having to watch them suck each other's faces. After a tremendous amount of prodding Lydia finally coerced me out of bed picking out my outfit for the party.

"Lyds, are you sure I should wear this? Isn't it a bit, much?" I ask as I rake my eyes over the outfit she chose. The outfit consisted of a black miniskirt, a red lacy top which showed off the tops of my breasts really nicely, and some matching black boots.

"It's perfect y/n/n you look hot, nobody will be able to keep their eyes off of you babes."

I roll my eyes at her comment and go to finish my hair and makeup before grabbing my keys and head out the door following behind Lydia. The Soph house, home of the University of Michigan hockey team was only a 10 minute drive from our dorms and we arrived in no time. We made our way inside, music blasting throughout the house practically making the walls shake. The house was hot and stuffy as the sea of bodies was full of young adults grinding and dancing along to the music the air smelling of smoke and alcohol. Almost immediately upon arriving the two girls are greeted by Mark.

"Hey babe" he smiles leaning down to press a kiss to his girlfriend's lips, he then turns to the other girl greeting her as well.

"Hey y/n/n, we've missed you" he says hugging his friend.

"Hey Marky, I've missed you guys too, i've just been busy" I lied not wanting to admit i've been avoiding hanging out with the couple. Just as the three of you were about to head towards the kitchen to pour yourselves some drinks an arm makes itself comfortable around my shoulder causing me to look up and see none other than Ethan Edwards. You weren't exactly sure how the rivalry had started, but for as long as you could remember you and Ethan had hated each other. Growing up next door to each other you and Ethan had been forced to spend time around each other, due to always going to the same school and our parents being good friends. When I had gotten accepted to University of Michigan I had expected to finally escape the brunette, but of course to my disappointment he had been accepted right along with me. At the sight of the boy I tried to contain the look of disgust in my face as I pushed his arm off from around my shoulders. Upon Ethan's arrival Lydia and Mark took it upon themselves to make their way to their other friends across the house.

"Wow y/n/n, it's good to see you too." Ethan teased as he moved to put his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want Ethan?" I asked getting irritated by his presence.

"Pump the hate breaks princess, I was just trying to be civil" Ethan states as he holds his hands up in defense.

I scoffed at the idea, Ethan Edwards? Civil? I think hell would freeze over before that happened. I tried to push past him and move towards to kitchen to get alcohol in my system, but of course he had to follow right behind me. I grabbed myself a beer from the fridge cracking it open and letting the golden liquid glide down my throat the sensation already seeming to ease my annoyance. That was until a set of arms were working to trap me against the fridge.

"Ethan, what are you doing" I asked in a questioning tone.

"Just admiring" the boy admits.

"Where the hell is this coming from Ethan? For as long as I can remember you've hated me" I asked him.

"Who says I hate you?" he questions.

"I don't know Ethan, maybe the way you've been an asshole since the day I moved in next door" I state in a matter of fact tone.

"I wasn't trying to be an asshole y/n" the use of my full name shocks me as he continues. "I just wanted to get to know the pretty girl next door, but the only way I could think to get your attention was to tease you." He finally admits.

"W- what? You're telling me all of these years you've been an ass because you had a crush on me?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I was doing" Ethan starts,

"and if you'd let me make it up to you I'd show you exactly how I feel for you princess"

"Oh yeah?" I asked, my voice just barely above a whisper

"Yeah" he breathes, his hands on my hips as he leans his face down towards mine his lips ghosting over mine as he says, "You have no idea how long i've wanted this."

"Just kiss me already Ethan" I mumble starting to get impatient. Ethan doesn't take a second longer to crash his lips onto mine. I never would have thought that I would be in the kitchen of the Soph house making out with Ethan Edwards, but here I was with one hand tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, while the other still held onto the long forgotten can of beer I had grabbed minutes earlier. I tugged at the ends of his hair causing him to groan into my mouth allowing me to slip my tongue in and explore his mouth with my own. After what feels like hours we finally pull away to catch our breath, but within seconds I'm pulling Ethan back down to my lips kissing him with a bruising force. Soon Ethan begins trailing his lips down to my jawline and my neck causing me to tilt my head back in pleasure allowing him more access as he nips and starts to leave marks all over. I know that at this point my panties are dripping from the immense amount of pleasure i'm receiving in this moment.

"Eth.." I moan out as his hands begin to explore my body. He hums in response not fully acknowledging me. "Ethan" I repeat this time in a more firm tone.

At the sound Ethan lifts his head from my neck to look at me. "What's wrong princess? Do you not want this? I can stop it's no problem I just-" he begins to ramble worried he's scared me off.

"No Ethan, I want this, just not- not in the kitchen Ethan" I say reassuring him. Ethan gapes at me as though he had completely forgotten that we were still in the middle of the kitchen. "R-right, well then let's get out of here" Ethan says as he grabs my hand guiding me through the crowd of people and upstairs towards his room. The second the door is locked behind us my back is pushed up against the door as Ethan smashes his lips against mine with the same intensity as minutes ago in the kitchen. My hands go to tangle themselves within his hair once more has his go around yo cup the backs of my thighs. “Jump princess” he mumbles into my lips and I comply immediately eliciting a breathy “good girl” from him causing me to moan into the kiss and him to smirk. Ethan backs us up until he's sitting on the foot of his bed with me straddling his lap. As though my hips had a mind of their own they slowly began to rut against Ethan's causing him to pull away and groan. “What have you done to me Princess?”

“Less talking, please” I breathe out as I continue to grind my hips against his. Ethan lets out a chuckle as he goes to take off my top, looking at me for approval to which I nod. He slowly removes the article of clothing and gapes as my bare breasts are revealed. Starting to feel a bit self conscious I go to move my arms in front of my chest to which Ethan immediately grabs my wrist saying “Don't hide from me now Princess, you're gorgeous.” His hands move from my wrists, down to knead my breasts letting his thumbs flick over my hardening nipples.

“Oh God” I moan out at the sensation and before I can speak again Ethan is enclosing my nipple in his mouth licking and sucking at the bud eliciting a string of curses to come pouring out of my mouth. I tug at the strands of Ethan's hair pulling him away from my chest and back to my lips, my hands moving down his chest to palm his strained cock through his jeans. “Oh Princess” he groans. The two of us are quick to start stripping each other down leaving ourselves bare in front of each other. To say Ethan was attractive was an understatement, he quite literally looked like he had been sculpted by Greek Gods with his chiseled jaw, toned abs, and his incredibly muscular thighs which you couldn't help but staring at. Ethan caught your gaze and smirked as he began to speak, “I see you looking at my thighs Princess” you flush at the realization you've been caught, but he only continues when he says “does that turn you on Princess, the thought of getting off just by pleasuring yourself on my thigh. You like that idea don't you?” he pulls me in by my wrist choosing to run his fingers along my slick folds “Look at you Princess you're so wet f’’me already, c’mon baby come ride my thigh like a good girl” he begins to slur lust evident in his voice. Not being able to decline his request I move to sit with my cunt directly on his thigh as he puts his hands on my hips and begins to set the pace for me flexing his thigh every once in a while the muscles in his thigh touching my clit sending the most delicious sense of pleasure coursing through my body. I very quickly could feel the the very familiar knot tying in my stomach as Ethan quickened the pace enjoying the view of me getting off just at the feel of his thigh. Reaching between our bodies I snaked my hand down to my clit pressing tight circles only increasing the pleasure I was feeling at the moment. “I- I’m close” I'm barely able to muster out before my orgasm overtakes me and I clench my eyes shut leaning forward to bite Ethan's shoulder at the sensation.

Ethan mumbles sweet nothings in my ear as he moves his face to the crook of my neck leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. As I come down from my post orgasmic sensation I reach my hand down to begin stroking Ethan's cock which is angry due to its lack of attention. This is a sign to Ethan that I am ready for more. Quickly Ethan moves us around so that I am laying with my back against his mattress with him hovering over me leaning down to leave a kiss on my lips, this one was different from the others, not full of lust or need, it was a kiss full of passion and emotion. Ethan pulls away and looks me in the eyes with a look clearly asking for permission to which I quickly nod needing to feel him inside me. “Uh uh baby, I need words Princess” he says.

“Ethan please, need your cock. Need you t’ fill me up so good” I babble. That's all he needs to hear before teasing my folds with the tip of his cock and then pushing into my entrance without warning causing us both to moan out at the feeling.

“Fuck baby you're so tight f’me, milking my cock so good baby” Ethan groans into my ear.

“So full Eth. You fill me up so good” I practically cried.

Sure I had had hookups throughout the last few years, nobody had ever been able to please me like Ethan already had, and nobody even came close in size compared to Ethan. After adjusting to the stretch, I encouraged Ethan to move and he did just as I had asked. At first it was painful due to the new feeling but soon that pain was replaced with pleasure. Once the pain was gone I urged Ethan to to move faster to which he gladly obliged setting a harsh pace eliciting almost pornographic sounds from my mouth. All that could be heard throughout the room was the sounds of skin slapping and moans coming from both me and Ethan. The knot in my stomach began tightening again as I was starting to get closer and closer to my orgasm for the second time of the night. I could tell Ethan was getting close as well as I could feel his thrusts getting sloppier and his cock twitching inside of me at each thrust.

“‘m so close Ethan, so close” I breathe out.

“Me too Princess, I want you to cum with me baby, okay? Can you do that f’me baby?”

“Yes, please Ethan ‘m gonna cum”

Ethan reached between our bodies going to draw tight circles on my clit, pulling my orgasm out of me, my pussy fluttering around his cock milks his orgasm out of him as he lets himself lay on top of me. We lay there for a couple of minutes coming down from our highs basking in the post orgasmic feeling. Once we’ve caught our breath Ethan gets up pulling on his boxers leaning down to press a kiss to my lips before he heads to the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth in his hand going to clean the mess made between my thighs trying to be gentle as to not cause overstimulation. Ethan then goes to grab me a pair of his boxers and a shirt for me to sleep in. After I get dressed Ethan opens his arms for me to come join him under the covers to which I happily obliged laying with Ethan as we slowly drifted off to sleep, deciding to leave the conversation about where this will lead for tomorrow.

fin.

a/n: I have no clue how I feel about this or if I even like this but yk 💁🏻‍♀️

#ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x y/n #umich hockey x reader #ethan edwards #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards smut #mark estapa #luke hughes #nhl hockey #nhl smut #nhl social media au

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas. You packed your swimsuit this weekend. You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway. Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off. In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie. Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does.

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail. She leans over and looks at the screen.

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up. “Gross, he's like 50.”

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?” She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot. It turns out, you had no idea.

You sigh, “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.” You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't. You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?”

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.”

She looks at you sympathetically. She knows why you came home this weekend. You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing. “I get it,” she says. “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it. Then on to the next,” she smiles.

If only it were that easy. You really don’t feel like going back and facing life. Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive. But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you. You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears. You just hate feeling so powerless. On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend.

Your phone dings. Your friend looks at it.

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious. "Oh, shit. You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me." You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism.

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. "

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy. She really tickles herself pink with that. Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.

Your phone dings again. She looks at the screen and side-eyes it.

"What?" You ask

"You should block Chad."

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.

Chad: miss u already.

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond.

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute. A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable?

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note. It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing:

You have no idea.

Your heart races as you look around the street. How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back. Laundry, you guess. You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts.

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street. Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house. Comically high-security, too. Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him. You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back. The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing. Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis. You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further. You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window. Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear. Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece.

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house. When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise. It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches. He doesn't bother pretending not to watch. You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts. He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool. You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water. When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks.

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak. He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on. He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months. Look, Trouble, I’m human at best. She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything. He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool. You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees. You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s. His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.

“There,” he says, handing you his phone. You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask.

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles. “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window.

"One what?"

"iPhone pro. Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using."

"What do I need an iphone pro for?"

"They didn't have the regular one in blue."

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing.

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything.

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.

You still don't say anything.

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh. All your blood rushes to your loins. You don't move. He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass. A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb. When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach.

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.”

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.

“God damn. Look at you.” He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again: The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you. The length of his cock slamming into her when he came. And now it's right there for your taking. Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants. Too bad he doesn't deserve it.

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head.

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.

He takes a deep breath and his lips part. He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand. You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you. He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back, jutting your tits into the air again.

"Yes ma'am," he growls.

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you.

"The whole thing." You nod at it.

He pulls the fabric back.

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought.

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand.

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies.

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip. Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base. You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own. He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly. You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it.

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock. He clenches his jaw.

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away. He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand.

He shakes his head slowly. “Yeah, you would.”

He looks down at himself then back up at you. His eyes darken. The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . .

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy.

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs. You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.

“Thirsty?” he breathes.

“Hell no. Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.”

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie. A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.

“Gross,” you say. But you ache for him so badly. “You know, a gentleman always asks.”

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute."

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone. He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.” Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call." He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled. Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly.

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes. Half of it is dark with sweat now. His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels. You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly. He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house.

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.

How devious of him.

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head. Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you. Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear. He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away.

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock. Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away. Asshole.

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loganlermanstanaccount · 8 months

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 8)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 7, Part 9

summary: You visit your ex. Miguel tags along.

warnings: mentions and description of depression. heavy angst, depictions of a toxic relationship. some suggestive language.

a/n: me when idk shit abt the american school system:

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 5.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had forgotten; they were good.

Blank walls. Quiet corridors. The buzz of monitors and dull chatter sandwiched between blue vinyl and exit signs. You're not usually one to wander during your breaks; but you're going crazy looking at the same four walls.

That hair net itches and the strap of a blue mask digs into skin as you make your way to a little courtyard. You sit out on a paltry bench overlooking concrete. The spindly remnants of a tree provides little cover from harsh elements. Wind whips through its branches, whistling and cool, as you rip off the mask and crumple it up in your pocket. A heavy sigh, and you feel some semblance of peace. Some quiet, before the morning comes. Before a rush of orders and shunting plastic trays up and down the wards.

You screw your eyes shut to still the pounding at your temples. God. You're grateful for the job, really. And all things considered, it's not particularly taxing: coffee orders until the little cafe closes, meal prep for the morning rush, and sometimes you'd volunteer to take orders to bed bound patients. A whole lot of reheating and chopping and pressing buttons on the little machines. You don't quite get it, of course, but your lone coworker picks up the slack well enough.

The older woman doesn't do much for company, anyways. Riveting conversation comes in the form of grunts and sharp elbows when you get in the way or round the corner of the kitchen. It has you counting down the seconds until your shift ends.

And so you are grateful, well and truly. Jamie's not so sappy, anymore; doesn't partake in 'I love you's or grand gestures; but he is dependable. Safe. Willing to stick his neck out for you, at least. He'd gotten you a job at the hospital he has his placement at; with decent pay, and it slots in well with your other ones. He's taking you seriously – taking the news better than your parents. After telling him you wanted to go back to school, you're not met with thinly veiled disbelief, or lips pressed together with pity. He'd nodded, rather simply. Didn't make a fuss. No deep sighs, or heavy frowns. Okay , he had said. How can I help?

It was the simplicity of his reaction that had bowled you over, almost bringing you to tears. To have someone believe in you, for once – wholeheartedly and without an onslaught of questions – felt like a deep breath of air after almost drowning. It felt like love ; and after desperate breaths, gasping and gulping and clawing at something to hold on to, you think you've found dry land. Something solid, something stable; a rough palm to pull you out of swirling depths. Because, unlike your family, and unlike half-hearted friends: Jamie was there.

After heading back in to catch the morning rush, you're wiping down surfaces and sorting plastic trays onto a cart. Rote, repetitive, boring; you've settled into a routine that feels familiar. A couple more months, you reckon, and you'll be able to cover the costs for a second go at undergrad. You can shed the skin that seems to follow you at every family gathering, and the job interviews in between. Dropout – and when your Mom says it, it feels like a vile curse. Jamie calls it spiteful, and you opt for the democratic alternative; she's being dramatic - rather than cruel, rather than hurtful, rather than crass. You've heard enough, from all sorts: ‘too much pressure’, and ‘didn't think she had it in her, anyways’, are common phrases whispered in the background of phone calls home.

Your chest aches with the weight of it – the kind of ache that seeps into skin, and lines a casket. Grief; mourning a person you could've been, and a person you never would be. For a while, it left you paralysed by the what ifs and the maybes; rotting in a quiet corner. Sinking into sofa cushions or caked onto the bed sheets like the mystery mould bloomed onto the plates in your room. But Jamie was there, more than anyone else.

You'll wait for him in the corridor near the back of the service elevator, like you always do after a shift. You finish when he starts, early in the morning and rubbing away sleep from his eyes for ward rounds. You'll give him a kiss, and he'll give you a soft little smile to send you on your way. It almost makes the whole thing worth it. Almost.

You give and you give and you give. Your boyfriend isn't quite the same; doesn't pour into you the way you'd like him to. But it works. It works because it has to; a thousand miles away from anything resembling home. You can't ask for more – the right words die in your throat.

~~~

You've spent the past couple of hours in the library. Procrastinating for at least half of it, but you've managed to draft out a couple of essays and more or less reorganise your life. It's something you've been dreading for the past week or so; letting yourself get swept up in the monsoon that is your roommate. Miguel – sarcastic, saccharine-sweet Miguel – and his stupidly pretty lips, his pretty hands, and the pretty way he scrunches up his face like he's smelt something rotten.

You're staring at a computer with a slew of books spread out on the adjacent desk. Your half-finished report seems to jumble together on the screen; a tangle of citations and filler words and shitty diagrams. It's not quite clicking , and it's making you want to tear out chunks of your hair in search of relief. A tale as old as time, one you can merely wallow in and fold yourself between its pages. Struggling at school; and this time it's a stats module you thought would be an easy couple of credits, that you definitely can’t afford to fail if you want to graduate early.

You’ve picked a quiet spot on the third floor; a computer bay tucked into the corner. It overlooks a little window, cramped and claustrophobic and mystery mould in the corners of its grout. You've resorted to scanning the cracks with sharp eyes, light fingers on your neck to trace the leftovers of the morning. You can see it in the slightly mirrored surface of cloudy glass; you look like shit, you feel like shit, but you can still feel him. Lips on your neck, sucking soft hickies into the skin; and you can't help but like the way it looks on you. It's the same under your jeans, blooming like mauve and purple heather on a sprawling field.

You cross your legs, wincing at the dull ache that spreads. Sore, in that way that feels good; sending flashes of a morning with Miguel. Fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the heat of him – cut and lean-lined – on top of you; it's impossible to ignore. Condensation drips from the panes, pooling in its corner and you swipe a finger in it, lazily. Again, you're reminded of him, for the thousandth time in the past hour: shaking legs, fisting his cock, spraying fat globs of his cum onto your face and chest.

With another glimpse of your reflection, you sigh. Deep and heavy, with the weight of half a decade of frustration, sexual or otherwise. You've never felt this good or had your needs satiated so wholly, so exorbitantly. It feels odd. You don't know where to put your hands, how to place your feet on the floor. Do you shout, do you scream? How do you tell all the poor bystanders that scatter the third floor: I'm sleeping with Miguel O'Hara! A walking red flag with cheekbones that could cut glass! He wants me, and I want–

Your phone rings. The noise catches you off guard, and has you stumbling to press accept.

"Hey," Miguel's voice sounds tinny in the speakers, and so you press it to your ears.

"Y-Yeah?" You steel yourself, batting away daydreams of your legs wrapped around his middle – too horny for your own good, clearly.

"I'm outside, chula. " He stops talking. The quiet ticking of an indicator becomes the only sign of life, before he says, "In that parking bay by the–"

"I know, I know. Give me 5 minutes." You rush to pack up, clicking off the monitor and haphazardly shoving your notes into your bag. Not everything fits, and you give up trying to cram that textbook in.

A beat passes before you realise he's still on the phone. Quiet, but still there.

"…I brought food, by the way."

You only just manage to catch it, slotting the phone between your ear and shoulder. That makes you perk up.

" Seriously? " You give him a small laugh. You think you can hear him smile through the phone. "Thank fucking God, I'm starving. But you weren't rushing, or anything, right? I mean, it's so soon after your session with… Sally, or–"

You're bounding down two steps at a time, so eager to see him – to get food , actually – that you're careless going down the stairs.

"Sarah . " He breathes, and you make your way downstairs.

It stops you in your tracks, for some reason.

"Okay. Sarah ." You say it with finality, voice tight. "What did you end up doing anyways? At her place, you said?"

"Pressure differentials. Modelling viscosity. It's not very interesting." He hums, shifting in his seat. "What about you? Did you get something done?"

You take a beat too long to respond, and it comes out half-baked.

"Loads, Mig."

He snorts. " Sure. "

" Fuck you. " You say it under your breath, ducking past the entrance, and into a side road.

And there Miguel is, car heaped onto part of the sidewalk. He's leaning back, lazy arm sticking out the car window, showing off muscle and pretty tan skin. It's getting cold, but he's cracked the car door ajar; donned in a well-fitting t-shirt and slack trousers.

You're trying not to drool; and he makes it a little easier by flashing a shit-eating grin.

Childishly, you stick your tongue out; wrenching the door open and slumping into the passenger side. You tuck your things by your feet, and it lands on the floor with a thump.

"You can put your stuff in the back.. . " Miguel frowns.

" Can't. We need the space, remember?"

To pick up the rest of your things left in your ex's apartment. You hope he can parse out the rest of that from a raised eyebrow.

He sighs, tossing a brown bag of takeout onto your lap. He starts the car. "...I didn't think we were still doing that, to be honest."

He seems disappointed, eyes flitting this way and that as he reverses and pulls out. You must've hit your head at some point, because you're in heat – pressing sore legs together at the way he does it. One arm on the back of your headrest, sharp jaw jutting out as he looks back, and bottom lip hooked under his teeth; he's just concentrating, trying not to hit one of the cat-sized rodents that roam the streets this late at night, and he's still hot .

"You promised ."

"I had my face between your thighs. Would've said anything if it meant I could have more."

You draw your lips in faux disgust – your heart's not in it, but it's enough to make him chuckle.

"Fuck you."

He doesn't miss a beat, deadpanning, "...you'd like that."

Lips pursed, you ignore the way it twists your stomach into knots. Steadfast, you stare out at the window, watching the yellow lights of a bustling city pass you by.

Miguel takes a different turning, one that'll take you across the city and away from your place. To Jamie's, most likely. You soften, taking a moment to look across at him.

His eyes flit over, intense and almost a deep red in the neon and lights. It's barely a couple of seconds, but he knows, just like that.

"Are you nervous?" He tests the waters, voice steady and non-committal. It's not an accusation; even though everything feels like one, lately. Not from him, though. Never from him.

" No ." Your tone is betraying, and you both know it. He seems to pretend not to hear that tremor in your voice.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." He says it soft and low, not quite looking at you.

"It's just… it's the first time I'm going to see him after–" Your voice crackles. "After everything."

"You'll be okay," He starts. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude when he says it: it feels genuine and full-bodied and sonorous, clanging around your head like the chime of church bells. "Probably not right away – it's going to hit you like a semi, first. And you'll feel like shit afterwards. But it won't last. You'll move on, and you'll be okay; because you have to be."

He drifts off somewhere far away when he says that last bit; and you're not too sure what he's talking about anymore. Regardless, you wrap his words around you, holding it to your chest like a little songbird in the cradle of a tree.

You'll be okay. You have to be.

It feels less solid when it's not Miguel saying it, you think. You don't tell him that, though, sinking into the seat instead.

He doesn't let that silence sit for too long. Traffic creates a natural lull, and he reaches over to tap at the book in your lap – one of many different textbooks, the rest of which is lodged in your bag.

"You're taking a stats module, I assume."

You nod.

"With Dr. Karev?"

You sit up slightly. "...yeah, actually."

He hums. "You thought it would be an easy A, then."

He's right, but it doesn't make it sting any less. You were hoping for simple math and data processing, and here you were: drowning in matrices and linear algorithms.

"I thought it would be."

"Let me help you, then. I took one of his classes and he barely changes the syllabus. I could dig up my old notes, and–"

"You want to tutor me ?" You splutter – but you don't mean to sound as shocked as you do. " Why? "

"Why not?" He shrugs.

"I… I don't have any money, or anything."

"M'not offering because I want money." He's nonchalant, inching towards the car up front.

You squint. It's not adding up. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, I swear. Is it so hard to believe I'm being nice?"

Now, you feel guilty. "Sorry, Mig. I appreciate it, I really do–"

"Sit on my face and we'll call it even."

He turns to you now, face flat but with a twinkle in his eye. The corners of his mouth are slightly upturned - amused. He thinks this is funny?

You give him a light shove as the traffic starts to break up. He's riled you up, now, and you're much too annoyed to be nervous.

"Eyes on the road, asshole."

It's more bark than bite, and you settle into the seat, finally cracking open the paper bag. You munch on fries and it makes him laugh. Miguel swears he can see it: the hint of a gentle smile on your face.

~~~

He pulls up to the apartment complex. Modest, close to the hospital; and you probably couldn't have afforded to live there without your ex. Jamie was lucky; his parents could foot the bill of moving out, and he had family that lived in the city.

It feels odd to be on the outside looking in. The building's windows become snapshots into other people's lives. For some, it meant an early night, blinds drawn and lights off. From the parking lot, you can see the dim yellow of lights streaming through other apartments. Silhouettes flit past every now and then; the only sign of life.

Jamie's apartment is on the top floor, the two windows on the far right. You crane your head out of the car window, to get a better look. The lights are on, with one window left slightly ajar.

Miguel moves to get out, with shuffling that breaks the silence. You stop him with a hand on his arm.

"No, no. I'm going up by myself."

He cocks his head to the side, ever so slightly.

"...you sure? If you need help shifting boxes, I can–"

"I'm good, Mig. I just needed the car."

It comes out snappier than you meant it to, already irritable. With that, you pop the door open with a thunk . You can't see it, but he frowns, watching you swish and sway towards the entrance.

You trace familiar steps to Jamie's apartment. The door code hasn't changed, and so you buzz yourself in. This is something you can do quickly and efficiently, you've decided. In and out, and you don't have the energy for much else. Bracing at the door, you get ready to knock, hand curled into a fist.

The door swings open before you get the chance. He's there; still in light blue scrubs and a name badge pinned to his chest. It's the first thing you see, trying not to look at his face. But it's like pulling teeth, you decide: less painful when it's quick and sharp.

" Where's my –"

" Your stuff's in the –"

In a great clash of words, you finally look up at him. Where you're expecting some form of emotion – a flash of something, even for just a moment – Jamie is steadfast. Blank; blinking back sleep, if anything. You clamp down what feels like bile rising in your throat and push past him into the front room.

"Is this how it's going to be?"

Head down, you grit a quiet, "Don't . "

It's just as you left it, to the point it's almost comical. The same pillows you'd bury yourself in after work, the patterned tea towel you'd bought on a whim. The bar stools in lieu of a proper dining table, and that great big desk he had insisted on carting to the living room for years . Bits and pieces of you, of your relationship, and he barely bats an eye. He'll use your mugs and sleep on your patterned sheets.

It makes you sick .

You head to the second room. There's a stack of boxes, hastily stashed in the corner. There's still permanent marker on them from when you first moved in. Now, it houses the things you couldn't take with you the first time – everything you left behind.

Sick, sick, sick .

You take a moment to dig through the top box, that's clearly been moved. Knick-knacks, books, clothes and all the clutter you've acquired; and it reminds you of family, it reminds you of friends.

Jamie leans by the doorway, looking on in silence.

When you pick up a box, straining to lift it, he doesn't offer to help. He watches as you flounder, dragging it towards the door.

You're huffing when he finally says something; something that's clearly been on his mind for a while, with the way he says it.

"Are you seeing someone?" He's looking out of the window, gaze fixed on the car parked outside. Miguel's car.

Your eyes widen. You don't quite trust yourself to speak.

You leave the box by the door. "Are you?“

He shrugs. "Don't have the time."

It's noncommittal and frustratingly blasé. He's not giving you much, and it's fucking with your head. This whole thing feels like a big joke – he wants to talk, and all he's doing is asking bullshit questions. Once upon a time, you would've stewed in it; sat with that question on your tongue and let it rot.

"I don't understand." You croak. It hurts to say out loud, but you say it. That's the important part. "I don't know why you're doing this… why are you still doing this?"

"I don't like how we left things." He says it slow, like he's choosing his words carefully.

You want to scream.

" So? "

" So , I need some kind of closure. We've got unfinished business."

" Unfinished business? " You roll it around on your tongue, reeling at its bitter taste. It feels clinical and lifeless, yet again.

And then… oh. It clicks. Looking at him, arms folded and leaning on a wall, he looks antsy and uncomfortable. Now, when forced to face you.

" Closure. " Another word that tastes like shit. You give a watery laugh. "You feel guilty."

He doesn't say anything but his body language says enough. He shifts his weight side to side, unable to make eye contact.

You don't bother to stick around for an answer, snatching up the box as best you can. Through the doors, and down the corridor. You stagger down the flight of stairs, gritting your teeth. It's heavy – you've packed as much as you can inside, trying to get this over quickly – and you make it to the first floor before it clatters onto the steps.

You fold ; knees drawn to your chest and hands tight in your hair. Heart racing, chest pumping: you're trying not to get swept away by heavy emotions. The tide rises. You pump your legs around the swirling mass - barely staying afloat in deep, deep water.

You'll be okay.

You remember Miguel's words, gentle and sweet and kind. You remember the way he said it; firmly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The kind of grace that you don't have to work for and doesn't need a performance. He believes in you, at least; thinks you're stronger than you have any right to be. And you think of him in the car: eager to help and reassure. You brushed him off. You were mean.

Deep breath.

Miguel's waiting for you, just outside those doors. Diligent and patient, saccharine-sweet Miguel. Getting up, you make your way down the stairs with that box.

When he spots you, a pretty little thing in a hoodie and jeans, he leaps out of the car.

"Hey, hey, easy… "

"I'm good, Mig – "

You're struggling with the box, and he eases it out of your hands without breaking a sweat. One hand on the boot of the car, the other holding up the heavy box effortlessly, and he gives you a quick once over.

"...he didn't offer to help?" His face is scrunched up - disgusted by the looks of it - and all you can manage is a limp shrug.

It doesn't take him long to figure it out. You're dejected; nervous, down-trodden, blue in every meaning of the word; losing a little bit of that shine you had started the day with. If he had to guess, and he knows you well enough he'd bet money on it, it was that ex of yours – stealing away that light in a burlap sack, a thief in the brilliance of bright sun.

It makes him grind his teeth, eyes flicking up at the fourth floor window.

"I could help." He offers, a hand on your shoulder. It's your favourite hoodie, he thinks, as he circles the soft fabric with his thumb.

You purse your lips, thinking it over.

"It'll be quicker, chula. "

That pushes you over the edge, and you finally nod.

It must be a sight, knocking at the door with Miguel hot on your heels. After living with him for so long, you've forgotten how intimidating he can be when you first meet him; taller than Jamie, and mean-mugging the blonde with a deadly look. If you weren't so on edge it would make you laugh: you know your roommate is mostly harmless.

Jamie doesn't, of course. He visibly bristles, looking you both up and down.

"I just need some help with the boxes. This is my roommate, Miguel."

You turn to the man beside you.

" Miguel ," You say it softer. "This is Jamie."

Wordlessly, he stretches out a palm,

rough and broad and tan. Hesitant, the man in front of you takes it.

"Hey, man." Jamie flashes you a strange look when he says it.

Miguel doesn't answer.

You lead him to the second room, divvying up the boxes as Jamie hovers at the doorway. It's surprisingly efficient: Miguel insists on taking the heaviest boxes, hauling them up onto his shoulders, before stacking them up at the door. You'll take the smaller stuff, and it seems everything will be done in far fewer trips than before. It's hard to say out loud, but you're grateful for his help – Miguel was right , for once.

After the first trip, he's bounding back up the stairs for more. You've both made it into a game, with neither one of you having to explain the rules. He pinches your arm whilst you sift through boxes, and you stick your tongue out in response. Elbow deep in crap, and he manages to make it feel a little better.

Jamie stews. Jamie festers. In a corner of what used to be your shared apartment, he pretends to tap at his phone, uninterested. You know him too well for that facade to stick.

Miguel takes the last of the boxes down, and you're straggling behind, picking up the last few bits and pieces. You're left alone with your ex, for a brief moment.

"You're fucking him." He says it quiet, in a whisper that sounds oh-so loud in that little room. Fucking. He spits it out, and makes the word feel cheap and dirty.

You look up from across the room. Slowly, he traverses its width, gaze pinning you down like a bug under a microscope.

He brings a hand to your chin, cupping the flesh tenderly. It's intimate and familiar, reminding you of better days. Something bubbles up in your stomach, sweet and innocent. That feeling doesn't last long.

"You're fucking him."

It's accusatory, spat out with a rueful smile pulling at his lips. His fingers brush over your throat and you squirm, pulling up the mouth of your hoodie.

Those hickies, blossoming like flowers in the spring. They crackle across your skin like fallen leaves in autumn.

"It's none of your fucking business."

"Of course you are. I can't believe you." He rolls his eyes, half-laughing. "I was going to apologise! I was planning to say sorry for the way I handled things and you had to rub it in my face."

" What ?" You croak.

"You brought the guy you're fucking to our apartment!" He explodes.

His lips flatten into a tight line.

" ...now it's our apartment? You kicked me out. You dumped me ."

"Don't…. fuck , don't do that. Don't make me the bad guy, here. I gave you plenty of time to find a new place."

"Two. Weeks." You grit. "You gave me two weeks, asshole. You left me alone, and told me to fend for myself whilst you fucked off to your sister's."

That fire dies down as he hesitates. "I… I would've let you stay longer. You know that, baby."

" No. No I don't know, 'cuz you don't tell me shit , anymore." You blink back hot tears. "I don't make as much money as you do, and my family can't support me like yours can."

"I would've–"

"You didn't. " You swallow roughly. "You didn't. I don't even know what I did wrong ."

"No, no." He cradles your face with his hands, swiping at stray tears. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Now, you look up at him. With glistening eyes, and a heavily furrowed brown, it barely comes out as a whisper; red-raw and strained.

"Then why don't you love me?"

He doesn't deny it. There isn't a scramble to reassure you; to pat your head and kiss away tears to show you how much he cares. Instead, he steps away guiltily.

"I care about you, of course I do. Remember when you changed your major?"

You nod.

"I was there, wasn't I? I stayed up for hours talking you through it. And when you dropped out, I came over on the weekends and brought you groceries."

"I was there. I helped you through that funk , and helped you get that job for school. Every stupid little question, every depressive episode, all those moments where no-one else would help: I did. Even though I had other things going on in my life, I showed up. For you. It was enough, for a while."

Until it wasn't. He sighs.

"I'm starting my residency next year… and you're still in school, right?”

“Yes, I am.” You say it simply, not able to say much more without breaking down.

“I'm happy for you, really - proud that you actually got that far. But we're going in different directions, and at different paces. It's easier now that we're not together.”

You bristle at his tone: still in school, actually got that far . It oozes pomp and a quiet kind of superiority. Easier now, like it was difficult before.

“I didn't make that decision because I hate you, or because I don't care about you. I know you're angry.” He places his hands on your shoulders, and doesn't break eye contact. For the first time since you got here, you think he's finally showing emotion; quiet melancholy just below the surface. Up this close, you can see it: deepening bags under his eyes, sallow skin, and fine lines. Jaime looks tired. In fact, he seems exhausted .

“I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. But that doesn't excuse the fact that you brought your fuck buddy here, when I just wanted to talk.”

It feels cruel. The way he looks at you, and the way his demeanour switches from the Jamie you knew before, to this .

"I wanted to talk." You strain. " Months ago. After you broke up with me, and disappeared off the face of the planet. Every time I called, crying and panicking, it went straight to voicemail."

You shake his hands off of you, stepping back.

"Miguel's a friend… did you ever think of that? Maybe I just needed some help moving my things, Jamie. Maybe I don't have that many friends since they stopped talking to me because of you, Jamie. Maybe, there's not some devious plot to spite you."

You pick up the rest of your stuff, a little basket of trinkets and books. The very same books that he had told you to pack up; to make some space for his textbooks.

"Get your head out of your ass. Don't call me. Don't text me. I'm done. "

You're already halfway out of the door. With that, you start to storm off; clattering into Miguel by the stairs. When your things spill out of your hands, you both drop to your knees in a scramble to pick them up. You're chewing the inside of your cheek so hard it draws blood, fumbling around. Miguel is more efficient, scooping up your belongings back into its box.

You're drooping, only able to mutter a quiet thanks. On the way to his car, you're dejected. Miguel watches carefully, trailing behind.

~~~

He doesn't know what to say.

You've left him speechless before. Many times, in the span of your couple months together. Miguel recalls it in exasperated messages to Lyla; you're something else entirely. Frustrating, sometimes. Quick-witted. Perceptive. Thoughtful. A million and one words to describe you, and yet, it still doesn't paint the full picture. You are multi-faceted and brilliant in a way he's not sure he completely understands.

[Sent: 22:33]

Can't explain it, Ly.

[Sent: 22:33]

I'm going fucking crazy.

[Received: 22:34]

ur being dramatic :p

[Received: 22:34]

think u just need to get laid

[Sent: 22:34]

Fuck off.

[Sent: 22:35]

I said I'm taking a break. Meant it.

[Received: 22:37]

(image attached)

[Received: 22:37]

got this at the party

[Received: 22:37]

ur staring, mig

[Sent: 22:38]

…

[Received: 22:38]

that's my dress! told u I have great taste :))

[Received: 23:06]

miggyyy

[Received: 23:06]

stop ignoring me! its not fun anymore >:(

That was a while ago. Before anything serious happened between you both. And he's had the privilege of seeing you in many different ways; stressed, angry, beaming with joy. Bouncing off the walls after too much coffee, or crawling out of bed following a late night. He's seen your lips curve to form a delicious O as you writhe underneath him; he's seen you smile. He'd tattoo it onto his skin, if he could.

Fuck . He's overthinking it.

You've retired to your spot on the couch, and yes, he's staring. Tracing the slope of your jaw and the tilt of nose outlined by the glow of the TV. After getting back home late, he brushed off limp protests and took most of the boxes up himself. It sits in a pile by the dining table. You'll deal with it tomorrow, he supposes.

Retreating behind your ratty blanket, you stare blankly at the screen. Glassy eyes, you've curled up to watch reruns late into the night. Can't sleep, you told him, as he hovered by the doorway.

He should go to bed. It's nothing to do with him, really, and he shouldn't have overheard as much as he did. Miguel is curious but not nosy, and well-versed on the art of minding your business . So he shouldn't feel his heart splintering; creaking like the trunk of a felled tree; hacked into two by the way he sees you drowning.

He sits by your side. Not too close, of course, he's wary of all the shit you've been through today; not wanting to make you feel more uncomfortable.

He's reminded of a childhood holiday. Half a summer spent at a campsite, bounding through woodland and creeks somewhere up north. Gabi and him would disappear, forgoing the beaten paths for their own adventure. Miguel couldn't make friends the way his brother could, so he'd straggle behind; watching from afar as the other kids would climb trees or swim in quiet lakes. Reading by the banks, and he remembers a time someone had slipped under the water. Drowning, and it wasn't anything like the movies. It was quick, silent and deadly. Thrashing under choppy water, and then…

…nothing. Just quiet.

He feels that panic rising now, watching you stay so eerily still. You've slipped under the waves, and he doesn't know what to say to pull you back out.

Miguel isn't too good with words. He's not known for his warmth, or comforting presence. Sometimes, he thinks he wasn't built with that switch turned on in his head – and he certainly didn't learn the right words from his parents. And so, he gives you comfort the only way he knows how. He shows you. He takes care of you.

You come to him. Like two parts of a whole, you slot together perfectly: your head on his shoulder, at first. You end up on his chest, curled up like a housecat; matching shaky breaths to his steady ones. He brings a hand to your shoulder, drawing lazy circles in the fabric to soothe you.

With the dull chatter and gloom of the TV, you fall asleep. It takes Miguel a little longer, but he wraps his arms around you. He listens out for it: the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Steady, like a metronome, and it grounds him – drowning out the creak of gears.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka

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#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara angst #angst #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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stevie-petey · 1 month

Text

dibs

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. “One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another. They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

Summary: do the laws of dibs still apply if steve and robin see you at the same time ???

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.4k

Before you swing in: this is for my beloved val (@southelroy), and i was so excited to try my hand at writing robin and steve together <3 this is a very silly fic, not at all meant to be realistic or serious, and it isnt proofread so pls enjoy n beware !

According to the ancient rules of “dibs”, the first person who sees the desired one has the rightful claim of dibs. Anyone else present during this time must obey this sacred rule, respecting the fact that the other has laid claim first. It’s an old, ancient tradition, held up for centuries through faithful friendships.

It’s a solid system, really.

Except Steve and Robin see you walk into Family Video on the same day, at the same time, together.

You walk in, hair slightly wet from the rain and your eyes bright, and smile at the two of them shyly. Setting down your umbrella, you unbutton your raincoat and look around the store. “Sorry, is it okay if I hide out in here for a bit? My umbrella broke and I really don’t feel like catching a cold.”

Steve and Robin stare at you, wide eyed and in shock. They’ve never seen you before, they surely would’ve remembered your face if they had, and their brains short circuit simultaneously.

When they don’t say anything, you cautiously walk up to the counter and laugh nervously. “Uh, hello? I can leave, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No!” Steve shouts, panicked that the word “leave” has left your very pretty and pink mouth. When you flinch at his raised voice, he quickly clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I–uh, I mean… No, no. You can stay–please! I mean, if you don’t mind, ‘cause, ya know, it’s raining–”

“What my coworker here is trying to say is that you can definitely stay.” Robin interrupts, admiring the way the raindrops in your hair seem to form a halo. “In fact, why don’t you have a look around? We have plenty of movies.”

You smile at Robin, which she practically melts seeing. “Thanks, you guys are lifesavers. I’m here visiting my cousin, and he said I should stop by anyways.”

“What, do we know him?” Steve asks, finally finding his voice again.

“His name is Dustin Henderson, if that helps. He’s a freshman at Hawkins, said he stops here sometimes–”

“Dustin Henderson is your cousin?” Steve and Robin say at the same time, completely taken aback.

You laugh. “Ya know, I’ve gotten that a lot since being in Hawkins. I take it he’s well known?”

“Oh, he’s definitely well known.” Robin snorts, thinking about how many people would scream at the idea of more Hendersons running around the world.

But if they’re anything like you, then Robin thinks she’d love to be invited to a Henderson family reunion. Immediately.

“Well,” you smile again at the two teens, amused by their weird dynamic. You can see why Dustin likes them so much. “Since I’m stuck here for a while and I promised Dustin I’d get a movie, I’m gonna take a look around as suggested.”

You pause, now realizing you haven’t asked for their names, and you gasp. “I’m so sorry! What are your names? I feel horrible for not even asking.”

“You could never do any wrong,” Steve sighs dreamily, leaning against the counter in what he hopes is a cool looking pose. “I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you accept with a slight giggle. He’s odd, but incredibly endearing even if he’s currently standing against the counter like a middle-aged man. “I’m Y/N Henderson.”

Robin, sensing what Steve is trying to do, hip checks the boy so that he falls onto the ground. “And I’m Robin Buckley, the better half of this duo.”

Like hell she’s going to allow him to flirt with you.

Her declaration makes you laugh, even as poor Steve groans on the floor in pain. You wink at her, amused by her charm, and start to walk towards the movie aisles. “Oh, I believe that.”

Steve scrambles back up, and the second you’re out of earshot, he and Robin immediately shout at the same time, “Dibs!”

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors.

“One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another.

They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

“Okay, let’s think about this.” Steve holds a finger up to indicate that he’s speaking, which Robin scoffs at. “I saw her first, so–”

“Uh, news flash, dingus: I saw her first.”

“Were you dropped as a child? I clearly saw her first–”

“Actually,” your voice causes both Robin and Steve to turn in horror, realizing too late that you’ve been standing behind them, listening in. “You both saw me at the same time, so I’m not sure how the rule of dibs applies here.”

“We…” Steve gapes at you, speechless.

Robin is no better, her face burns horribly. “We think… You’re pretty?”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You laugh again, and the sound is enough for both Steve and Robin to forget all their worries and admire how delicate it is. Then, holding up two dvd’s, you place them on the counter. “I’ll take these, please.”

Robin looks down at your movie selection, seeing The Breakfast Club and The Outsiders, and her heart drops. “Just… Just these?”

“Mhm,” you nod, unsure why her demeanor has suddenly changed. “Is there something wrong with my movie selection?”

Steve looks at Robin and he knows immediately what’s wrong. She absolutely hates your taste in movies, which he’s ecstatic over. He lets out a whoop and first bumps the air. “Yes! She’s mine!”

“Shut up, you moron!” Robin screeches, embarrassed and infuriated. She cannot believe that this is happening to her right now, in front of a very pretty girl, no less. Closing her eyes, Robin takes a deep breath and turns to you. “Please excuse my friend, he’s allergic to pretty girls.”

“Hey, that’s not true–”

You cross your arms at Robin, an amused smile on your face. “What’s so wrong with my taste in movies?”

“Nothing!” When you raise your eyebrow at her, Robin accepts her fate and gives in. She knows she’s done for now. “It’s just… It’s incredibly bland.”

“I happen to think your taste is impeccable, Y/N.” Steve butts in, batting his eyelashes at you for added effect.

Robin watches, with pure disgust, as it works. Steve’s charm gets you to laugh once more, and you even lean closer to his side of the counter. You place a hand on his arm. “I’m honored to have you on my side, then.”

Stupid Harrington and his stupid male species.

While you and Steve exchange gross lovey-dovey glances, Robin rings up your movie rentals with disdain.

“That will be $5.25, please.” She mumbles, crestfallen.

You tear your eyes away from Steve’s and notice the jealousy and hurt on Robin’s face. You frown, feeling bad for being the cause of this. She seems like a sweet girl, and Dustin spoke highly of her, so you know she’s someone special. Taking some cash out of your purse, you hand it to Robin and catch her eye.

“Hey, listen to me real quick.” Robin looks up, despite not wanting to, but your eyes are too pretty not to look into. When you have her attention, you turn to Steve. “Can you give us a second?”

He looks bewildered. “What? Why?”

“If you leave now, I’ll give you my number.”

“Yes ma’am!” Steve hops over the counter and goes to sort some movies, leaving you alone with Robin.

Once he’s gone, you lean in close to her. “I understand what you’re going through.”

Her eyes widen, terrified she’s been caught. “W–what? No, I think you’ve gotten this all wrong–”

“It’s okay,” you grab her hand, gently take it between yours. “We’re more alike than you may think, and while I’m flattered, you’re too young.”

Robin knows she should be devastated by this, but all she hears is, “So… Let’s say ten years from now, if you happen to visit Dustin again…”

You laugh, she’s got such a spark to her. “You’ll have to figure out the whole ‘dibs’ thing by then with Steve.”

“I saw you first!” Steve shouts from somewhere in the aisles, before a giant crash follows. A few seconds pass, and then, much quieter this time, he shouts, “I’m fine!”

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #implied robin x reader #dont wanna tag much x robin because like not really but she has a crush ya know #fluff #theyre such silly guys tbh

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maximumkillshot · 3 months

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I Can't Lose You-Part 12

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, mentions of doctors appointments, that's it!

Pairing: BangChan x Reader

Characters: All the boys except Chan, although Chan is mentioned, Reader

A/N: The reader needs a break!!! So here we are. This one is fluffy, it feels good to me. I hope you guys like it! Also, I am pretty sure I had two seizures in the last two days (At least). Thank you to everyone for being so patient. I will try to resume my Friday schedule. Thank you so much for your understanding and well wishes!!

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Bin POV:

“Everyone ready to go?” I asked. Early in the morning the psychiatrist came in to talk to Y/N. They asked me to come in for a few seconds with Han. They let us know that they really didn’t want her anywhere near the house and to stay with at least Han and I, but it was preferable for most if not all of us to be there for at least the first week. The trauma tied to the 3 Racha house is just too much at this point, the doctors were also worried about Chan making the recovery even worse than it already is. Y/N agreed wholeheartedly and with that she was given follow up appointments. Finally the latest blood tests came just before lunch and she was given a clean bill of health and an outpatient appointment for her OBGYN. Felix, Minho, I.N., and Hyunjin all went to the DanceRacha house to start prepping for us to head there. Felix texted me that he had a few surprises for her which made me smile, she needs a good surprise right about now.

I’m still worried about Y/N. The DanceRacha dorms are a good option, but I know that for me, I still have memories tied to Chris there. I’m wondering if that is exactly what she is thinking. I can’t help but worry about it. “Remember the deal with the doctors is for you to be away from that house and with your support system. Are you sure you don’t want a place of your own? I want you to be comfortable as you heal.”

“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N smiled at me. It was a reassuring one, as if she could read my mind. She and I always had this connection. Whenever I was feeling down she would pop in to see how I was doing.

I remember one time, it was maybe 3am and I was working on lyrics. They were risky, going double the speed of the song's beat, the technique is called ‘double time’ in rapping. Fast spitting rappers do it all the time, think Eminem and Busta Rhymes. It was my first time attempting it and I contemplated each and every syllable like a landmine. Writing it wasn't the issue, it was being able to deliver it while dancing. Those syllables take up a lot of air, not to mention the brutality that comes with dancing and singing at the same time. Our steps aren't insanely difficult, but they definitely take up oxygen like no one's business. So I'd get up, do push ups, jumping jacks, burpees, anything to get my heart rate up to about what it would be when performing, then I'd try to deliver the lines. Doing this is always painful, your body is screaming at you to stop talking, hunch over, and gasp for air. Obviously, we can't do that, so we try our hardest to build endurance. Some are like Chan, who sing while doing cardio (which is insane, by the way, I felt like I was dying when I tried it), some are like LeeKnow, packing on layer after layer of heavy clothing before and during dance practice, forcing the body to exert itself so much that when all of those layers are off, each movement and breath is a breeze (also insanity to do. It feels like working out in a sauna with a weighted, heated blanket on you). Me? I brute forced it.

Anyway, Y/N noticed that I was really getting obsessed with these lyrics and doing them so that I was as close to the line of unhuman speed crossed with physical activity as possible. I'm the fastest rapper in the 4th generation and I wanted to show why I was. Y/N came into my room and said,“Binnie, you need to trust yourself. You know what's best, you have the best instincts I've ever seen. Remember, if you're about to dive in a pool, don't think about the height of the diving board, clear your mind, and jump in. Don't think, just do.”

Even now, through all of this, you would think that a bond like that would be weakened, seeing her like that would make some pull away. It just brought me closer. I am in awe of her. The sheer will to live. The tenacity. The beauty in her broken parts know no bounds. It reminds me of ruins from ancient civilizations. Seeing the beauty in what was, and marveling at what is left. Only the strongest parts are left, the essence of that civilization. She is beyond anyone I've ever seen. Her capacity to love is beyond comprehension.

That's why I am so happy to know her. To really know her. To be the person she reaches for, to ground herself. She trusts me to be there. And I will be. Simply because it’s an honor to love her. Money isn't an object for her.

“Money isn’t a problem, would you like to be in a place of your own?” I asked again. I would spend my whole paycheck on her if I had the chance. She deserves to be spoiled.

“I still want to be at the other dorm, it’s familiar. For some reason I feel safe there. Is that okay?” She asked, looking at Seungmin. Little did she know that we had been talking about this for a bit before she woke up. We knew that pushing this topic on her would be too much, but at the same time, from what Seungmin told me, the doctors were never going to release her to the same house that Chris is in.

Seungmin chuckled, “Birdie, it’s not a problem, you have never not been welcome at my dorm, you know this,” he deadpanned. It is true��all of the boys over that house would get so excited as soon as they heard Y/N was coming over. They’d want to spend the entirety of the visit with her, a lot of the time they would start to pout if they felt she wasn't spending enough time with them. So when the idea came up their eyes lit up. Anywhere she goes, I'm not going anywhere.

“Okay then it’s settled.” I smiled at her, combing a stray strand out of her face. I’m happy that she’s finally getting out of here. She has been through so much in such a short amount of time. She needs to be left alone. I am scared for her. I want her to be safe, and worries keep on popping in my head. How do I protect her? What if saesangs get a whiff that something is wrong? What if the company tried to force her to stay with Chris? What if she takes him back? That part hurt. Seeing how badly she was hurt simply because he was being an asshole. Simply because he treated a diamond like sand on a decrepit shore. The thought made me shake with rage as I looked at the woman in front of me, she looked at me with furrowed brows, that brought me back to her.

Y/N looked into my eyes at that moment, like she was tapped into my brain. She gave my hand a squeeze as she said, “Binnie? What's wrong, talk to me…” she shyly played with my fingers. Her touch was feather light given the bruises that formed on my knuckles. I wanted to tell her the truth about them. My impulse to be honest, making the words bubble in my throat. Right behind the truth of what I'm feeling.

I wanted to tell her I love you, I wanted to tell you for so long. The minute I met you I fell for you, your soft voice, your booming laugh, your corny jokes. All of it. Not just the you before but the you now. I know life is going to be hard for you, I want to be there. I want to stand next to you and catch you whenever you need to collapse. I will give you everything I have. You deserve to know what real love is. I know Chris isn't good for you. You don't need this pain, this heartache, you don't deserve to be treated like an option. You are the one and only person I ever loved and will continue to love for the rest of my life. I want you to be happy, and if it's not with me that's okay. I just want you to know that he isn't the only option. I am just one person, I am sure thousands of men would line up and down city blocks just to see you, let alone have a chance with you. Instead I said “ just thinking.”

There is a time and a place for everything. Telling her right now could confuse her more, make her feel like I just want something from her. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. The fact that she has been used like this and thrown to the side, expected to all of a sudden tolerate the people that did that to her.

I saw the opportunity to draw attention away and I took it as I said “Seungmin, you have everything?” “Yeah, we should be ready to go soon,” he said as he kept packing all of the random hoodies that were used as pillows when we stood overnight with her. It's been years since most of us slept in the same room as the others. Every few hours a nurse would come in to check on Y/N, sometimes startling her. Everytime that happened Seungmin and I would wake up. We aren't light sleepers in particular, but it was more reflexive than anything. The nurse would quietly remind her that she's safe and all of her boys are with her. No one is going to hurt or sneak up on her. It'd still take a little time for her to go back to bed. Seungmin and I would refuse to even close our eyes until her heart rate went back to resting and her body would be completely relaxed and limp.

Now that things are starting to simmer down I am wondering why Seungmin had this reaction. He's been very strong through it all and he is even going against his nature of just observing. I am wondering what it is that I don't know. I just want to be filled in. Seungmin isn't known for physical affection, instead opting for annoying people he loves until they inevitably get closer to the edge of insanity. It's an odd way to show love, but Seungmin has never been known for traditional methods.

So why is it that he’s calling her pet names and smiling at her that way? Did he always smile at her like that? It’s so comforting, almost endearing. More than anything she is sharing the look. Something definitely happened but I have no clue what.

“Angel, you have all the appointments and all of that?” I looked back to her and she smiled at me saying, “Yup, I just want out of here. It’s been crazy. I just want to cuddle with my boys and watch a movie.” I could feel the sincerity in her words.

It wasn’t too long after that when Han came with the wheelchair saying, “You’re chariot awaits.” I am still really worried about her. She still says the cramps are no joke. Her cravings are still everywhere too. When she asked the attending about it they explained that her body is still going to have those pregnancy cravings for at least a few more weeks. I could see the hint of sadness in her features when hearing that. The only thing I could imagine herself feeling is that it’s another reminder. A reminder of what could’ve been.

On our way to the house I could feel her excitement ramp up. I could hear her giggles as she listened to the radio. She waited and bounced at the redlights. I looked behind me and I saw everyone else in the car smiling lopsidedly as she giggled. Y/N wasn’t known for very big displays of excitement unless it was for something that she really really wanted or missed having.

I could see the color in her face, knowing that if Hannie and I didn’t do what we needed to do, this would not have been the case. Instead, I get to see her smile, feel her laugh a little more, and be thankful for every moment, I always was but now? It’s like I have a deeper love for her. She was already a part of me, but now she is like a vital organ, as odd as it sounds.

As I was in my own thoughts I heard a song play, it was one that I knew she loved. Immediately I felt her hand grab mine, which was on the shared arm rest. Usually if she wanted the armrest she would just nudge me until I relented and shared, but this was different. She laid her arm on top of mine, her hand interlocking with mine as she sang along to the song. I couldn’t help but think it belonged there. Touches are a part of her expression of comfortability. It’s how she communicates, which I happen to know all too well. This had more weight to it somehow. She felt like she knew that no matter what she’d be safe. Which was and still is true.

When we pulled around the corner we were met with balloons in her favorite color on the doorstep. Her eyes lit up as she said, “What’s this?” I just shrugged as I said, “I don’t know, Lix told me that he was up to something but I didn’t really know what.” As soon as we parked Y/N bounced as she waited for one of us to come around and help her.

I think that she was surprised at the fact that we had done anything, period. I know that she has a complex. She tends to feel like she isn’t worth the time. That was something that she told me in confidence one night. Every night she would cry herself to sleep for the better part of 2 and a half years. Hannie and I did not catch it until we started spending weekends with her.

One night I heard whimpering from their room, when I knocked I heard sniffles. I gently pushed the door open, I found her curled in a ball, crying looking at her phone. When I asked her what was wrong she just handed me the phone. On it was a text thread.

Y/N: hey are you coming home? It’s Friday and I wanted to watch a movie with you. Channie❤️: Not this again, Y/N. I’m working, I don’t have time for this. Y/N: You promised you’d take some days off every week, so you don’t burn out. You even said that those days are our days. Channie❤️: Y/N the more you talk to me the longer I have to be in the studio. So you are causing me to be away longer because you can’t be patient. Y/N: I haven’t seen you in weeks, Channie. You are always gone, I miss you and I feel alone… like you don’t care. Channie❤️: bingo! You are right. I don’t care. My phone is getting turned off. Maybe then you’ll get the message that I don’t have time for you. Get some sleep, trust me, don’t wait up.

I held her all night that night, I dried her tears as she clung onto me for dear life. Like I said before, her love language is touch, so to literally be starved of that for weeks from her husband made me feel enraged. More than anything, I wanted to make her comfortable.

I wrapped her in a fluffy blanket of which I called ‘the Y/N burrito’. Then I picked her up while she giggled and placed her on the couch. We watched whatever she wanted. Early into the morning she started craving her favorite snack so we went out in pajamas, got the snacks, and had a movie marathon. It’s one of my favorite memories with her. She started off that night crying and ended it safe in my arms, snacks surrounding her as credits rolled on the T.V.

I brushed her hair back as I stared at her sleeping so peacefully on the couch. The credits created a dim and timid light as I wiped the chocolate from the corners of her mouth. It was about 6am when Chris walked in. He looked annoyed and just walked past us as if we were ghosts.

I recounted this as I saw the balloons, thinking that whatever is inside, she is going to love it.

Han was first to grab her. When Seungmin unlocked the door with the overnight bags slung over his shoulder we could hear a little gasp and some talking. Han held her hand as we walked.

“This is so sweet you guys didn’t have to,” she stopped at the balloons, looking at them as if they were the most precious diamonds she has ever seen. Then when we walked in she started sniffling.

Sitting on the couches were 6 pillow sized plushies, and one giant plushie. Y/N loves plushies, their textures calm her. What got her to cry though, was what each of them represented. The one giant plushie was an angel. The other 6 were a lioness, a crown, a bird, a sunflower , Anya, and the National flower of Korea, the mugunghwa, the symbol of eternal beauty, that one has to be Minho’s.

I have no clue where he even found some of these. Especially the lioness, that one represented I.N.’s nickname for her. Whenever anyone tried to mess with us he always said, “if you think the wolf is bad wait until the lioness hears about this.”

She started crying, “they…. They’re all my nicknames. The ones you gave me.” She immediately went to the angel and grabbed it, hugging it tightly as she cried.

My heart broke and swelled at the same time. She should never have to feel like anyone is going to abandon her. It makes me so sad to know that she was so scared of losing us. All because of one foolish and egotistical man. He deserves nothing, especially not her love. Yet she loved him anyway. That is the type of person that she is.

Felix came up to her and said, “I figured if one of us had to go out and you missed us, now you’ll have a piece of us with you. You won’t be alone, and we’ll always come back to you. So when we leave, you can hold on to them really tight and know that soon we’ll be there.” I could see the tears about to leave his eyes.

If anyone was able to do something this sweet for Y/N, it would be Felix. The way that he cares for her, comforts her, it’s like they share one mind. He knows that she loves plushies. Ones that are so soft she can just sink into them. Chris never really liked too many things in his room. So he always discouraged her from decorating with plushies. He also felt that, although they were cute, they had no place in an adult’s bedroom. Especially not a leader’s bedroom. Most of her plushies found residence in my room.

I had no problem holding onto them for her and sometimes she would even decorate my room with them. Every movie night, before Hannie and I came home, she would grab the plushies and throw them on Han’s bed. She’d decorate with them, with Hannie’s favorite holding a bag of Hannie’s snacks. She’d also have her favorite, she named it Ollie, and Gyu on the bed, with popcorn in the middle.

That always made me smile. That wherever Ollie went, so did Gyu. Whenever I would sleep in the same bed with her, I would grab Ollie and Gyu. One night she asked if she could hold Gyu for a bit. Usually I don’t let anyone touch him, but she isn’t anyone. Without hesitation I handed her Gyu and she handed me Ollie. I remember hearing her sigh with comfort as she talked to Gyu about me. How lucky Gyu must be to fall asleep next to me every night. She thanked him for comforting me and for allowing me to sleep soundly. Even on every tour, she would pack Ollie and Gyu for me to sleep with. The first time she did it, she wrote a note with it. ‘I’m going to miss you, but so is Ollie. I may not be able to go with you but Ollie can! Sleep well, have a great tour, I’ll see you soon Binnie!-Angel.’

She looked up at Felix, released the angel, and hugged him as she whimpered a bunch of tiny little “thank you’s” into his chest. I think she realized that all of us know that she is scared. We may not say it but we do. We know and we all love her so much. We are here for her. Even if we may not be there in person, there is no place we would rather be than being with her.

Felix held her and pulled back after a few minutes. He wiped her tears and he said, “come on sit, take a load off. The brownie batter is almost done… unless you want to help?” He smirked at her.

She practically dragged Felix to the kitchen and Minho yelled, “Yah, I’m not done in here!” She giggled and asked what he was doing. I came into the kitchen to see Minho tying tenderloin together. She was watching curiously as he worked. He said, “it is your first day home and we should celebrate that. I’m making beef wellington, and don’t worry I left out the mushrooms, replaced it with onions and carrots for you.”

“Really? Thank you Minho! This is going to be the best dinner, thank you!!” She bounced and kissed him on the cheek. His ears turned red as he said, “okokok go over there with Lix’ you guys can have the oven first since this needs to chill,” he kissed her forehead right before she bolted to help Lix. I couldn’t help but giggle at her as she breathed life into the room.

I could see that she was really touched that he said, ‘your first day home’. Those words meant that now she is home. This is her space as well as theirs, that will never change. I could see her trying to hold back tears as she baked. Once things were baking Lix’ plugged in the switch and we had a blast playing games while we waited for dinner to come around. After everything was baked and made, we all sat down for a nice dinner, like we used to in the shared dorms.

Right before we all sat down Y/N smiled and said, “thank you. To all of you. This experience was hard. It was the hardest thing that I have ever been through to date. It’s because of all of you that I made it. All of you mean so much to me. The thing that really scared me after all of this was what would happen if I lost you guys? My boys. I cherish every single memory with each of you. I love you boys so damn much, you are all my family. Seeing what you did,” she looked at me and Hannie, “Being so strong. Crying with me, holding me through it all.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. Resisting the urge to nudge into it like I always do.

She looked at everyone else, “The fear that each of you must have felt. I know I wasn’t the only one mourning and coming to terms with things.” I saw her look directly at Seungmin for a split second and went back to scanning the table, “I want to thank all of you so much. This experience was horrific. Because of all of you, I made it out. I love you boys so much. Thank you for welcoming me home.” With that, she sat down and leaned into me, I could tell she was either too nervous or embarrassed.

As we were eating and laughing she looked around the table. I sat down right to her left and Hannie was on her other side. I could tell she was doing her best not to cry. I think it was the same for the boys. Two days ago that wasn’t the case. She was fighting for her life around this time. To think that we would all be here, together, a family. It made me want to cry. This is the family that she deserves. Everyone she loves, at home, on time, together. She was so happy and before dessert came out Hyunjin said, “Yongbok-ah phase 2.” Then Felix went running to his room. He came out with a giant comforter and plopped on the living room floor. He then ran to Minho’s room, grabbed his comforter and plopped it down as well. At that point I.N. said, “Movie time! Everyone on the floor!”

Immediately everyone moved to the living room and got a spot except for me. I was helping wash dishes with Minho. When I walked in I could see Minho tearing up as we heard her giggle. I patted his back as I said, “what can I do to help, hyung?” He just shook his head a bit and asked me to help him with the drying. By the time we were almost done with that I heard Y/N calling my name and asking me to sit. I told her that I had to change into my pajamas first and I could hear her ask Lix if she could change in his room quickly. He of course obliged.

Slowly but surely everyone started changing and pretty soon everyone was sitting on the comfy comforters. I didn’t really know where to sit and Y/N looked at me saying, “I know you aren’t thinking about sitting away from me.” I didn’t want to make it seem like she needed to be next to me all of the time, thinking that I would come off as clingy but it’s nice to know that she craves my touch as well.

I sat down right next to her and everyone’s faces had giant smiles. I looked at her and she smirked as she held onto my bicep curling into me. This is one of my favorite places to be. Just next to her as she clings onto me like a Koala.

She was giggling as Felix handed out the brownie sundaes and everyone got comfy. Y/N decided on a comedy for the first movie and out of nowhere she asked me, “You guys were never going to leave me, were you?”

I just smiled at her and said, “Not in a million years. We love you, we always will. Nothing and no one will get in the way of that.” She gave me an indication that she wanted to be closer so I lifted my arm up, that way she could scooch closer to me. I could feel the tears through my sleep shirt as I held her.

“Thank you for not leaving me.” She said as quietly as she could. The truth is, she is someone that I need, someone that we all need. She is a unique type of person. After about two movies most had abandoned the comforter pile. By the early morning it was just me and Y/N. We were laying down on her new plushies. She took her place on my chest. Much like that night from years ago, I wiped the chocolate from her face and watched her form as she slept, credits rolling on the T.V. I smiled as she slept. I kissed her forehead and she intertwined her leg with mine. A few minutes later we fell asleep, with the promise of better days ahead.

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