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#this song will cut me open & leave me bleeding
sophsun1 · 3 months
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TRACY CHAPMAN | Fast Car (1988)
See, my old man's got a problem
He lives with the bottle, that's the way it is
He says his body's too old for working
His body's too young to look like his
My mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said, somebody's got to take care of him
So I quit school and that's what I did
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luveline · 6 months
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I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.
maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out
ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 
cw criminal minds typical gun violence
Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 
The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 
In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 
You'd like to keep it that way. 
It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 
Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 
It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 
You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 
It's deep but small. A nick. 
The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 
You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 
He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 
He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 
"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 
"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 
"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 
You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 
"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 
"You want to tell me, right?" 
"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 
"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 
"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."
Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 
"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 
"What were you doing up?" 
"That's my business," Morgan says. 
Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 
Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 
Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 
"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 
"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 
Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 
"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 
She gawps. 
Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 
You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 
"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 
"Yes sir." 
Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 
Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 
"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 
"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 
"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 
Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 
"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 
Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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Die Happy - Sanji x Reader
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SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k
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Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"
Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:
Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.
Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:
“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”
But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.
Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.
He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.
Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.
Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.
Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.
Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.
“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”
Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.
“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”
The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.
“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.
“I know, love.”
It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.
“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.
His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.
“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you. 
Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.
Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.
“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.
Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.
When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.
Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.
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keravnous · 1 year
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bathroom b!tch; tangerine/fem!reader (smut; 18+)
part two | part three | part four
playlist: train quickie with tangerine
Tangerine meets you in one of the bathrooms on the bullet train. He just wants to clean up after his tussle with Ladybug and get rid of the blood, but he could use you to blow off some steam as well. You know: he has to take it if he sees it.
word count: 5,9k
warnings: mirror sex, bathroom sex, semi public, fingering, oral (female receiving), blood (it's tangerine's), squirting, dry humping, rather rough sex, unprotected sex, light choking, confined spaces, dirty talk, name calling, kinda a quickie?, tangerine's a little rude but surprisingly gentle too idk he's just like that, he just needs to fuck the adrenaline outta himself, i have very strong feelings about this angry man
title is from the song of the same name, bathroom bitch by holychild
also thank you v for a) helping me out with Japanese and b) by telling me what being a passenger on a bullet train feels like
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You knew it was a bad idea.
Starring at yourself in the impressively clean mirror of the small bathroom, you try your best to hold back any fresh tears.
You knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. You fucking knew it and yet you accepted your fiancés pleas to Just try it. Maybe, it indeed would've worked out if he wasn't fucking his bloody secretary.
You regret leaving London. You miss your home.
You're not even that heartbroken, you just feel exhausted, like you wasted an awful lot of time.
You take a long, good look at yourself. Bloodshot eyes and a sad hue resting over your pupils, turning the colour dark and deep. The dress, that you bought for your anniversary brunch – a surprise, quite as much as the one he gave you, when you walked in on him, balls deep in his secretary – now looks oddly strange, out of place on you. You feel overdressed and ashamed, foolish.
But there’s something else, too: the loneliness that followed suite after your screaming, after fighting with him - after breaking up with him. It's been there since you boarded the train to Nagoya but now it rolls over you like a wave of-
Thump, thump.
"What the fuck", you mutter, taking a ragged breath, before yelling out, "Occupied!"
You just want to be left at fucking peace, not being watched by other passengers as you're bawling your eyes out. All you want is to get off that train and burn some of that fucker’s money on a spontaneous vacation. All you want is for the remaining days in Japan to be good ones.
Another sharp knock follows. This one rattles the door.
It takes a moment for you to scramble for the right words, the ones you have picked up when visiting your fiancé before. "Shiyouchu!"
Another knock. And another.
Motherfucker.
You clench your teeth - saying goodbye to the precious moments of crying in silence for the year you've lost to the most useless relationship of all fucking mankind - and wipe away the wetness below your eyes to open the door. "I said-"
Oh.
Oh shit.
There's a very handsome man waiting outside the door. He is towering over you, impatience plastered on his face and seeping through his every movement, with the way he's leaning against the door frame.
He's hot.
Also, he's dripping in blood.
His light blue shirt, once crisp and clean, is now disshelved and just as stained as his expensive looking dark-blue vest.
"Jesus, fuck, are you alright?", you blurt out.
The man's raising an eyebrow. "Could be asking you the same, love. Now, would you please get the fuck outta there."
He's moving towards you, closing in the last few inches separating the two of you. Your gaze is focused on the nasty cut on his arm.
"You're bleeding", you say dumbly.
His eyes shoot up at you and for a split-second you feel like you are face to face with a predator. The anxiety, that the blood and his rude behaviour sparked in your chest, sends adrenaline pumping through your veins and has the muscles your legs preparing for fight or flight. He blinks.
"I know", he says and his lips curl up to something, that you're convinced is supposed to be a smile, "Now, if ya'd be so kind?"
He gestures behind you, towards the empty bathroom.
"No?", you say, voice shooting up a little, which immediately has him cautiously throwing a glance down the hall to his right, "No, I won't! You need help, how the fuck -- what the fuck happened?"
"You're starting to really get on my fuckin’ tits, pretty thing. Would y'just let me the fuck inside?", he growls, tilting his head towards you. His tone has the hairs on your arms rising, as he is starring you into the ground.
You back up, colliding unpleasantly with the doorframe, that nearly drills itself into your left shoulder.
"Thank you, Lady", he's squeezing past you and then turns around again, giving you a quick one-over. You are unable to move, mesmerized by the way he's looking at you.
The corners of his mouth tilt up again and one of his hands, a little sticky and red with his own blood, comes up to his face, straightening his moustache, as his gaze runs over your body once more. You should leave, you should run - clearly, something is awfully and so not right but you just can't, being glued to the spot by his eyes.
It shouldn't make your loins grow hot, but you can't help it. You feel your belly tingle, shooting sparks down down down between your legs. He is very attractive and the aura of pure fucking danger that wafts around him doesn’t do what it normally should do – instead, it pulls you in. Oh, aren’t you just fucked.
"What were y'saying about help, again?", the man murmurs, gaze locking with yours.
"Uuuh", it's a very stupid sound you make and his eyes spark up at that, lips giving room to flash some teeth, "I-I just said you look like you might need some help?"
"Well, maybe I do."
He licks his lower lip and you blink, gaze following the movement.
This is very stupid. This is risky, dangerous, and most likely something you are going to regret.
It's not only the situation, it's him, too. He seems dangerous. It's not only the blood, mind you. It’s the way he moves, how his eyes dart through the room, over your body. It’s the aggression in his voice that he’s trying to hide, cover up but ultimately fails, something that seeps through every pore of him.
But he's also just ridiculously hot, walking with his crotch first, heavy northern British accent swirling the words around his tongue and, fuck, it's mostly the way he's looking at you.
And you're just so fucking full of anger and grief and your life feels strangely directed and determined by your shitty-ass fiancé and there's so much rage and sadness -
You take a step into the bathroom and the door slides shut behind you.
"Good", he hums, "Because you do look, like you could also use some help."
The door locks behind you and take another step forward, approaching him. "You have no fucking idea", revenge sex is a very stupid concept but now, it seems very tempting. It's exciting and makes you feel oddly alive.
"Did'ya get dumped?", and you don't know why you trust him with that information but you can hear yourself say: "Cheated on. Fiancé of twelve months." There is a hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can smell him now, the blood on his skin and clothes, the heavy scent of his perfume – it’s warm and thick, vanilla and fruit, like an orange grove.
"Allow me the comment - that's one bloody stupid bastard."
You look up at him and blink. That man's insanely pretty and you swallow as he pulls you in even closer, your hand connecting with his chest. It is firm and warm and your fingers get a little sticky with the fresh blood on his shirt. They splay out, feeling the firm muscle flex beneath the expensive fabric.
"How much time d'we have, sugar?", he hums, runs his thumb across your lower lip.
"I have to get off in Nagoya."
"Gonna get you off alright now, sweetie", you roll your eyes at that and he chuckles, "Bit more than half'n hour I'd say. Think we can manage that?"
You nod while biting your lip, adrenaline thick and heavy in your veins, pumping your blood down south and making you wet wet wet, and he laughs at that, runs his tongue along his bright, bright teeth.
It's sheer excitement that has your belly tingle and you lock your eyes with his, the darkening blueish green pulling you in and then he leans down, locks his lips with yours.
They are soft and warm and his moustache tingles a little. You hum against his lips, one hand fisting his vest as the other sneaks up his muscular arm, runs over and through the blood, up up up next to the cut and comes a halt on his neck. The hand on your waist holds you close, fingers spread out delicately as he starts to feel you up.
His tongue darts out and licks over your lips and you gladly give him more room, parting your lips slightly. He's pushing in, licking into your mouth. You hum deep in your throat, pressing against him, tasting the cigarette smoke on his lips.
You can feel the bulge in his pants, his dick pressing hotly against your lower belly. It ignites your loins, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.
You moan into his mouth and he responds by pushing you back, heaving you up the small sink, deepening the kiss. Your back presses against the mirror as you clutch onto him, hand running up his neck and into his hair, slick with product and a little sticky with sweat. Your knees hit his hipbones and the man starts to roll his hips into yours, having his hard dick rubbing against your crotch and your eyelids flutter with the feeling. He's rock-hard and so so hot through his dress pants and you can't fucking wait to get to it.
He eventually breaks the kiss, breath ragged as his eyes roam over your face, hands feeling your thighs up. You decide that you need more of him and thus, your free hand roams over his chest, fingers making quick work of his vest. As soon as you pop the last button, he hastily tears it off of himself, throws it to the ground where it lands with a quiet thud.
"C'mon sweetheart, I know you clammin' to touch me", he says, voice deep and raspy and you do - like you're on fucking autopilot. Your hands dart out, roaming over his defined chest. He feels nice and firm and makes you want him more, want to feel all of him, all at once.
He hums quietly, as you open a few buttons of his shirt and run your hands over the sweaty, warm skin, through the dust of fine chest hair, making his chain rustle. He feels nice and it makes you want him.
The man looks up from your hands and you don't know what has come over you as your hand glides up further, cupping his neck, thumb on his jawline. "Fuck me", you breathe, "Fuck me 'til I can't walk."
He grins and leans in even closer, his clothed and hard dick pressing against your wet panties, as he's kissing a wet trail from your jaw to your ear. "Who would've thought - such a naugh'y lil'mouth on such a pretty woman."
You hook one leg around his waist, tugging lightly at the hair that's curling in his neck as he starts to suck on your neck. The slight pain ignites your lust, has arousal blooming and wetness pooling between your legs. You want to tell him to stop, before he marks you up for good as --
"Name's Tangerine", he suddenly rasps, as his tongue rubs over the spot he has been sucking on and you're pretty damn sure that he just gave you a hickey.
"Like the-"
"The fucking fruit, yeah. 'M gonna burst you more like something of a cherry, though", he rumbles, quietly laughing to himself with his fingers digging into your hips.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses himself flush against you - all firm muscles, perfume, and hot skin - tongue licking over your throat like the hot blade of a knife, dancing over your jaw.
It's most likely not his real name and that should really, really alert you. But it doesn't - instead you surrender yourself to him, letting your head fall back and parting your legs, inviting him in.
And the man -Tangerine - follows suite and shoves your dress up up up, runs his hands over your now exposed thighs. You lean forward a little, until your lips brush over his. "Name's Y/N", you whisper and his eyes glint a little at that, "Pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, you gon' be a fun one", he grins and you do too, before leaning in and kissing him again. He is less gentle now, keen on getting you hot, his kisses turn sloppy quickly, biting your lower lip and licking into your mouth until you lack air. The thumbs on your legs dive in deeper, until they connect with your crotch. And then, one of them gently runs over your soaked panties.
Tangerine breaks the kiss, wet lips brushing over the corner of your mouth, only to inhale sharply - keeps his cheeks puffed theatrically for a short moment, then exhales just as sharply, eyeing you up and down. "Jesus Christ, that pussy of yours s'fucking wet, innit?", he rumbles and two of his fingers run over the wet fabric once more, slowly starting to rub your clit.
You gasp, hips bucking a little and you watch the way his hand vanishes under the hem of your dress. "Fuck", you moan quietly as he quickly finds the spot that makes your thighs clench. He rubs you through your panties, soft lace turning wet wet wet and dampening his skin. Your mouth falls agape seeing his wrist twitching between your legs and the way he's looking down at it, a little mesmerized, makes your head swim. Then, he stops.
"Yeah, let's get those off", he mutters, more to himself than to you and then he's tugging at the straps of your panties, riiips the lace and tears them apart. "Oh-", you gasp unintelligently as he carelessly drops them to the ground and you really don't fucking mind at all.
It's the first time in a long time that you feel wanted, like someone's actually hungry, greedy for you. And it turns you on. A lot. It is like Tangerine has flipped a switch and you want him just as much as he seems to want you. And you want it now.
You blink at him through your lashes. "You gonna touch me now?"
"Easy, love", he chuckles, genuinely amused and then his fingers are slooowly creeping back over your legs, until his index finger finally touches your exposed cunt. The touch is cold, but not unpleasant and you suck in a sharp breath, one that hitches in your throat.
He watches you, as he runs it over your pussy, quickly joined by a second, digits running up and down, spreading your slick. You hum, pleasure building up in your abdomen and then, finally, his fingers return to your clit.
Slow, wide circles spread your lips apart, making you moan and throwing your head back in pleasure. His bracelet clinks as he quickly picks up a faster rhythm, keen on seeing you coming loose, circles growing smaller.
"Oh shit, yes that's fucking it", you can feel arousal building in your stomach, shooting through your body. Tangerine laughs under his breath and his lips are onto you again, licking and sucking over your straightened neck. You don't give a fuck anymore, the slight pain of him bruising your skin makes your hips buck and rolling against his digits.
"Such a good girl, ain't ya?, he groans against your neck and it sends shivers down your spine as you're moaning and gasping, nodding frantically.
Your body feels like it has been ignited, with the way his fingers rub your clit, teasing your pussy and then there's one finger circling your hole and fuck, you really fucking need it. You spread your legs farther and Tangerine puuushes in, sinks one rather cold finger in your hole, your hot hot skin meeting the cold gold of his ring.
Tangerine starts to fuck you slowly, finger pushing in and out of you, until you're loose enough to take a second one. His rings thrust against your hole every time he pushes them back inside and the sensation has you whining, his lips still glued to your neck, occasionally moving down down down to you cleavage, licking fat stripes over your warm, sweaty skin.
A flood of very good, very dangerous emotions has one of your hands abandoning the sink, instead running up his arm, splaying across his shoulder. You can feel the muscles working slightly beneath the light blue fabric, a little dampened by his sweat. "Fuck, you make me so hot, shit, that feels so good", you whimper quietly, gasping as his fingers push even deeper. It seems to kick Tangerine off, moustache grazing your skin as he’s picking up an even faster rhythm - rubbing, circling your clit faster, adding more pressure - obscene squelching sounds filling the air of the small bathroom. You moan as pleasure shoots up your spine, has you rocking on and against his fingers.
You can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, hole fluttering against the cold, golden rings and then --
He breaks from your throat and whistles lowly as fresh wetness pools around his fingers, your squirt dampening his golden bracelet and the cuff of his shirt.
Tangerine pulls his fingers out of you slowly, slick with your juices and looks at them for a few seconds, the way your wetness is glistening on his skin in the dim lights. He brings them up up up, gaze connecting with yours and then -
They go past his lips, as his tongue darts out and licks them clean. You blink - once, twice. "Fuck", you breathe, and he chuckles.
"You taste like a fuckin' dream, love", his hands push your legs further apart and before you know it, he sinks down to his knees. You blink at him, as he lifts the hem of your dress up, "Might wanna hold that f'me", and you do, pulling the fabric as high up as you can, exposing yourself to him further.
Tangerine tsks as he takes the sight in and you can feel your cheeks growing hot, burning red, as his fingers dance over your pussy.
"Don't ya just have the prettiest cunt?", he hums, running his fingers through your folds, "'M gonna fuck ya so good."
"Jesus, Tangerine", you huff out, legs shaking a little as his thumb carefully rubs over your clit.
Tangerine looks up at you, smirking a little and then he's leaning in, hands coming to rest on your thighs, forcing your legs apart. He's not breaking eye contact, keeps your gazes chained together, as he dives in and licks a long, fat stripe from your hole upwards to your clit.
You fucking mewl, as his moustache rubs over your sensitive skin, tongue circling your clit for a short moment. His eyes gleam up at you, watching your reaction as his tongue swipes down, over your folds to your hole, teasing it. It has your legs kicking a little and you grab the sink with both your hands, as your thighs give a quick shake.
You can hear him chuckle deep in his throat and it makes you hot hot hot all over, with the way his tongue crawls back up, lips grazing your cunt and then he's onto your clit once more, gently lapping at it, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin.
A strangled noise escapes your throat as arousal rushes through your abdomen and up up up your whole body, has your chest heaving with a ragged breath and rolling your hips forward. It's so so good, but not enough - you just need more.
"Don't ya move, love", Tangerine rasps and one of his hands grabs your hips forcefully, dress sliding up to your navel as he's holding you in place. The other crawls up your lower leg and thigh, teasing your folds and then one finger presses against your hole, pushes in roughly.
You moan as he immediately starts to fuck you with it, pumping your wetness in and out of you with a rather merciless rhythm, keen on having you come for him, having you squirt once more.
His eyelids flutter, long and dark lashes against his pale skin as his tongue licks over your folds, tasting your wetness and taking your scent in. You're tasting so so sweet to him, like a fucking forbidden fruit that he's going to devour anyways, because he can and he will and because fuck the rules he had set himself for this job.
He closes his eyes as he pushes a second finger into you, pumping them in and out of you, while his tongue laps at your cunt, lips closing in around your folds, gently sucking. His fingers are fucking you fast now, pushing you further and further.
"Oh god", you gasp, one hand still holding your own weight, the other now fisting his hair, pulling it. It seems to spur him on, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, gently nibbling at the soft skin as his finger pumps into you. It's even better than before, with his beard scratching you and his tongue and lips gliding over your cunt as if it were a riddle he's going to solve without his hands. The heel of your shoe digs into his back - desperate for any leverage, to just feel him - as you are nearing your release.
"Shit, fuck fuck fuck", your voice sounds strange in your ears, high-pitched and far far away, between the squelching sounds that his rapidly moving fingers pull out of your pussy, "I'm gonna-"
He hums and then, after a short moment, pulls his digits out of you and grabs your hips hard, holding you in place, not stopping his tongue from rubbing over your cunt hard.
It tips you over the edge, has you breaking loose. You gasp loudly, throwing your head back against the mirror, incoherent rambling leaving your lips as you come - riding your orgasm out on his face as he licks you through your orgasm, your hips bucking wildly with it.
As your orgasm rolls over you, you already know that this isn't over. Usually, you would be spent for now, calm and a little tired but right now - you're not at all, lust still rolling over you, fresh wetness pooling between your legs again. "Mhm, shit", you breathe, feet kicking a little as Tangerine's tongue continues to flick over your clit. You are still wet, already desperate for more, more of him.
All you can think about is his hard dick, that you've felt earlier pressing against your crotch and pure want tingles in your stomach. Tangerine's lips close in around your throbbing clit, overstimulation making your head swim.
"Please, fuck, please", your hip bucks against his iron grip that holds you steadily against the sink. Tangerine looks up at you again and let’s go of your clit with an obscene pop. His moustache is dampened by your wetness as he grins up at you. "Please please", he mocks your high-pitched whines and then smirks, "Wan'it that bad, love?"
"Need you - ah, fuck - inside me. Oh, shit", you whine, as your hole clenches around nothing, desperate for more than his fingers. You are so turned on by this stranger, lust crashing over your body like waves - you can feel its tingle in your chest, your legs, feeling your pussy desperate for another touch.
Tangerine blinks for a moment and you're sure, that you saw his eye twitch and then he, very dramatically, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. "Shit, love, you make me feel all sorts o'things", he says quietly and then quickly gets up, wipes his lips with the back of his hand.
He leans in and his lips lock with yours again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, as he licks into your mouth, grinning against your lips, damp stache rubbing over your upper lip. He licks over it, groans deep in his throat, while his hands brush over your legs, before he commands, whispers against your lips: "Bend over the sink f'me.”
"What?", you blink, words not really reaching you through the lustful haze that has wrapped your brain in like cotton candy. All you can do is look at him, at this very handsome stranger with the very fake name and he has your head swimming, brain giving in and surrendering to lust once more.
You take the hand he offers you as he helps you down the sink, your legs a little wobbly. "Alright c'mon now, girl, don't keep me waitin'", Tangerine gives you a light pat on the cheek, rings barely connecting with your skin - a patronizing gesture that has your knees going ever weaker for a moment as you try to turn around, hands gripping the edges of the sink.
You watch him in the mirror, as he makes quick work of his belt and the fly of his trousers. As he pulls his dick out, your mouth waters. It's long and big and has just the right girth, a drop of precum glistening on its tip. You'd really like to suck that cock, like right motherfucking now.
Tangerine looks at you. "Got all hungry fo'it?", and you nod - breathing out Fuck yeah - arching your back for him, "Alright love, just a minute."
He spits in his hand and rubs the saliva over his dick, giving himself one, two strokes. You arch your back, keeping your eyes on him as he grabs your hips hard, lines himself up, head of his dick resting against your hole - all hot and hard - and then he finally, finally pushes himself in. The stretch is nice and has you squirming a little with the dull pain, excitement lighting your nerves up.
"Jesus Christ", his head falls forward a little, "You're so fuckin' tight."
He bottoms out, forcing himself in deep, holding still. You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, but he doesn't move and you can see his chest heaving, hear him grunt. His hand roams over your bare ass, shoving the dress even higher, until your back is partly exposed and his hand creeps around your body, over your stomach and under the dress, slips beneath your bra and cups one of your tits.
Tangerine squeezes it, feels you up and then pulls his dick back out only to quickly push himself back in. The sound that leaves your throat is nothing but desperate and your hand grips the sink harder, knuckles slowly turning white. His jaw is going a little slack as he rolls his hips into you, fucking you slowly.
"Ah shit", he groans, a deep and coarse sound, that makes you shiver, "Doesn't that just feel lovely?"
He watches the way his dick pumps into your pussy, eyebrows drawn together, lips slightly agape - until his gaze meets yours in the mirror once more and there it is - a shadow that dances over his eyes, turning the mesmerizing blue and green dark dark dark. One of his hands suddenly darts forward, rings glimmering in the dim light, only to roughly grab your chin, forcefully holding your head in place. It hurts a little, but the pain feels good, the way it stretches your back and intensifies the arch of it, forces you to look at him and yourself. Your mascara is pooling beneath your eyes, pupils blown wide and cheeks reddened.
"Would'ya just look at yourself", Tangerine groans, "Ya might be the hottest fucking thing I've seen in a long fuckin' time --" He groans again, thumb catching your lower lip and you moan as you watch his face coming a little loose with pleasure.
Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, thrusting into you and you push your hips back, meeting him - desperate for more more more. He grins at you in the mirror and his hand creeps a little lower, until it rest riiight below your jawline and then -
Then he squeezes.
It has you gasping, choking a little at the sudden loss of air and the feeling of your windpipe being closed. Your hip bucks against his and he licks his lips.
The lack of air has adrenaline rushing through your veins once more, as his dick pushes against your spongy hot walls and you feel your body surrendering to him fully, the small voice in the back of your head remembering you that You are at his mercy has you growing even wetter.
The hand lets go off your throat, now gently holding your head in place and you suck in a few deep breaths, gasping, greedily sucking in the air, as --
There must be a bump on the rails, as the wagon suddenly lifts a little and has you thrown forward towards the mirror, shoves his dick deeper into you. You moan, instinctively catching his eyes in the mirror.
His lips are slightly parted, eyes darkened by lust and his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. The train speeds up just as he leans forward, throws his chest against your back. His body is so so hot against yours and your walls flutter around his dick, as his scent wraps you in once more.
Tangerine lowers his head, until his forehead rests on your shoulder, cock twitching inside of you. "Ya have no bloody idea what'cha doin' to me, Lady", he says, voice coarse and dark and your eyelids flutter, "'M gonna ruin ya."
He lifts his head a little and your gazes connect in the mirror once more. A shiver runs down your spine - he means it.
And you feel it, too, as he thrusts into you once, knocks the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of it. The tip of his dick hits the spot perfectly and you nearly cry out in pleasure, hands gripping the sink tightly. There are small lines forming around his eyes as he's grinning against your shoulder, pulls out a little only to force himself back in, even deeper this time. The hand that was toying with your tit leaves, crawls back down and his arm wraps itself around your waist, holds you close.
Your legs shake as Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, starts pounding in to you like a starved man, like an animal gone wild. It's in his eyes, hunger hunger hunger and you feel pleasure shooting through your body, pooling in your abdomen. You squirt against his dick, wetting the trimmed pubic hair as his balls slap against your wet skin.
You suck in a sharp breath, a strangled high pitched whiny moan escaping your lips, as he hits your walls again, tip of his dick brushing over your g-spot, having you seeing stars. Your eyelids flutter, gasps escaping your mouth with every one of his thrusts.  
"Be fuckin' loud, you lil'slut, I don't care - one - bit", he says through gritted teeth, each word one thrust, "If they come knockin'. I’ll kill’em."
It shouldn’t – really, it shouldn’t – but it has your head swimming, rocking back against him, obscene sounds filling the small bathroom and you moan loudly. His jewellery rustles and clinks as he ruts into you, huffing against your shoulder. The force of his thrusts has your body moving back and forth like a ragdoll, hipbones bouncing against the sink, one of your hands coming loose and pressing flat against the mirror, desperate for any sort of leverage.
You can feel yourself clenching around him, white hot pleasure building on the edges of your brain, until there's nothing left but him him him.
"Fuck", you cry out, "I'm gonna fucking cum, shit shit shit", lips falling agape with pure pleasure. It’s too much and you can feel your muscles tensing.  
The hand around your throat tightens a bit more and that’s all you need – has your eyes falling shut, your second orgasm rolling over you. It knocks the air straight out of your lungs, has you going limp, while the muscles in your thighs and abdomen clench, holding and squeezing his dick inside of you.
You can hear him moan deeply, sounding far far away and then his cum hits your walls, paints it as he buries himself deep deep inside of you. You gasp, desperate for air and he lets go off your throat.
You suck in a few breaths and feel him doing the same, chest heaving against your back. "Fuck", he says and slowly straightens back up, looking at you in the mirror.
"Y'good over there, love?"
"Uh-huh", you hum, unable to speak, and blink at him. His hair's a mess and his cheeks are a little reddened, glistening with sweat.
Tangerine fucking winks at you and then slooowly, very carefully pulls out of you. You inhale sharply as you feel some of his cum following suite, dripping down your legs. You want to straighten up, too, clean it up, but he's quicker, taking one of the disposable towels and gently sweeps along your cunt.
"'S good, I can do that too, y'know", you say and take it from him, cleaning yourself up. For a long moment, while you can hear him putting himself back in his pants, there's silence between the two of you. Only, as you carefully put your dress back in place, does he look at you again.
"Be careful tonight, sweetheart", he says nonchalantly while tugging his shirt back into his slacks. He says it like it's nothing but it has the hairs on your body standing up.
I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. You look on the slight stains that his blood left on your fingers, that soaked his shirt.
"Make you sure you get out of that train in Nagoya, y'hear me?", his gaze is soft as it lands upon you. Your brain goes numb with anxiety.
"Y-yeah, yeah sure. I'm meeting a friend there, wouldn't miss her for the world."
He smiles at that. A genuine, warm smile. It does something funny to your stomach. "Alright love, gotta dash", he's straightening his vest and giving himself a glance in the mirror, running his hands through his hair, "There's this chap I gotta get rid of. Gimme a call, when you're in London, would'ya?"
You just nod and take the slim, white card he hands you. The numbers on it are orange.
"Very fucking funny", you huff and he grins, leans down towards you, and places his lips on your cheek. The kiss is feather-light but it'll haunt you late at night in the weeks, months to come after the story of the crashed bullet train breaks the international news. But right now, it makes your chest tingle in all the right ways.
"Tis'a good girl, eh?", Tangerine whispers and then, throwing one last look at you, struts out of the door.
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percyluvr · 2 months
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Hii can i request a pecry jackson x child of asclepius!reader with percy being the sunshine and reader being the grumpy one... totes a little sucker for a grumpy x sunshine thing
percy jackson x child of asclepius!reader summary: percy is a pain in the ass, but he's your pain in the ass wc: 551
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Days in the infirmary tended to be very long and seemed to never end, but today was taking it to a new level. There had been maybe 2 campers in the last 5 hours, and you still weren't allowed to leave, so you just had to sit there and stare at a wall because you were the only healer working today.
You were sitting in a chair, looking out the window and humming when you hear the door open. You turn around and are met with Percy Jackson with a wide smirk on his face. You let out an overdramatic sigh and walk over to him.
"Yes, Percy? What can I help you with today?" You ask, hands on your hips.
"What, can't I just come see my girl every now and then?" He says, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you close to him.
You roll your eyes. "Yes, you can, but not while I'm working," you say, painfully aware of how dumb that sounds with the empty infirmary behind you that you know he's going to point out.
"My deepest apologies, you seem oh-so busy right now, should I come back at a different time?" He jokes, that stupid grin that you love so much coming back to his face.
"Whatever, are you really just here to see me?" You ask.
He presses a kiss to your lips. "While I would love to say yes, I can't because then I'd be lying," he says as he lifts up his shirt to reveal a large cut right under his ribs.
"And you waited to show me this after all of your theatrics?" You ask, shaking your head exasperatedly.
You walk over to the bed, motioning for him to sit down, to which he obliges.
As you're getting supplies out of the drawer, you hear Percy singing the song that you were humming earlier, and without you noticing, a smile appears on your face. Of course, Percy notices, and you'll never hear the end of it.
"Babe, whatcha smilin' about? You like my singing?" He teases.
"Shut up, Percy. I could just leave you there to bleed out and die."
"But you wouldn't, 'cause you love me so much," he says, and unfortunately, you know he's right.
"Whatever."
"I knew it! You love me!" He cheers loudly.
You roll your eyes and bring the gauze and ambrosia to the bed.
"So, care to tell me how this happened?" You asked him.
"Well, m'lady. I was fighting another one of your suitors, so I could win your eternal love," he jokes.
"Yeah yeah, I'm serious. What happened?"
"Who says I'm not being serious?"
"Percy, please. We are not in medieval Europe."
"But maybe we are. Who's to say for sure?"
"We live in America."
"Maybe America is a code word for Europe. Conspiracy," he whispers, wide-eyed.
"What the hell are you even talking about?"
Percy bursts out laughing. "I don't even know."
"Thought so," you say, finishing wrapping his cut. "There, you're all good now. Be more careful," you tell him.
"Awww, you're so sweet. You care about my wellbeing," he coos.
"We're literally dating."
"You're right, that's why I get to do this," he says right before kissing you.
You smile into the kiss. Percy really was something else.
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sarahsartistportfolio · 7 months
Text
Some MORE sagau since my last post did some numbers and its given me confidence which feels nice.😌
This is completely self indulgence. And because it is the "you" referred to here is female. Slight yandere vibes but my intention was not cult au.
Albedo is the first to notice the unusual amount of shooting stars in the sky. There's never been this many meteorites in such a short span of time. Especially in Mondstadt. As Albedo observes another cluster of stars through his telescope, he notices this time the stars aren't all a bright white but of many different colors. Purple, gold, green and blue. Albedo notes how the sky melts and bends into these different colors too. Its all so strange but fascinating to him. He keeps his eye on the horizon, takes notes, but holds onto hope none of this spills any bad news.
Its Venti who catches you falling from the sky. Of course its him. It has to be him, at least he tells himself this. Its Venti who lays your head in his lap as anxiety and confusion reflects on his face. He gently runs his fingers over your forehead, brushing your hair out of the way. Only to see the sallow cut on your head leaking glittering golden blood. His hand flinches back as he thinks "They've arrived." He delicately holds you in his arms, as his thoughts race through taking you to the seven, which he assumed is the safest option. When you open your eyes. Your brain is fuzzy and your eyes are heavy but you can still make out Venti's visage. "Venti?" Your horse and rough voice manages, but you speak his name in more so disbelief. You let this stranger hold you as your arms are far too weak to push him away. And its Venti whose heart races as he realizes hes the first person you see. The first name you ever speak in Teyvat. His grip tightens as he swears to himself to keep you safe, to watch over you until your full power returns. "You...you really smell like apples." You smile weakly at him, body leaning into his embrace, closing your eyes enjoying the warmth he radiates. "You really do smell like apples." you repeat and Venti. is. beaming.
Venti becomes your comfort in this new world you've been thrust into. You find yourself hiding behind him when you're introduced to new people, holding his hand whenever you're anxious. Venti becomes quite proud that you seek out his presence so much. When you do start to become more brave, venturing out of Mondstadt, spending more time with Zhongli, Ei and Nahida. Venti finds himself becoming uncharacteristically jealous. His grip on you is never tight but it shows through his "You'll leaving already?" and "There's no reason to travel to Liyue/Inazuma/Sumeru ect you can do that here in Mondstadt." He treasures wearing the title of your first and closest friend and doesn't want anyone to replace him. And as you sit with him in the tavern again, making sure he fulfills his promise of writing a song for you, he finds himself getting terribly distracted by your eyes. Hoping he could become more than your dearest friend.
Venti's worship is friendly, playful, almost suffocating but in a good way.
Its Zhongli who becomes your second shadow. As soon as the overexcited bard announces your arrival to the present archons his heart skips a beat. Century after century he has heard stories of your power, your beauty, your grace. And some how he has lived long enough to see you in the flesh. His heart is racing as he waits for you to enter the room. And when you do, your hand in Venti's as he cheerfully introduces you to the geo archon. Zhongli's eyes widen for just a split second before he calmly attempts to regain his composure. He bows low, elegantly, although his knees threaten to give way. "Welcome back your grace." Your presence is otherworldly, ethereal. Your eyes bleed into the ever changing colors of the sky. And while maybe for a short time in the beginning Zhongli questioned himself, why you would return in such a small weak form. But that thought quickly left him, the longer he heard the unwavering kindness in your voice and the warmth of your smile. He was convinced he saw celestia its self within you.
Any and every time you step into Liyue, Zhongli is by your side. Even when your not in his country Zhongli still makes his presence known. Ever so observant and thoughtful. Helps you learn the names of people and places. Patiently tells you stories of the past over a hot cup of tea. Ever so patient Zhongli. When you playfully, nervously, confess you're a little intimidated by him. He waits. As long as you need. For you to initiate conversation, for you to stand closer to him, for you hold his arm as you take a walk through the city. And even as you continue to favor that childish drunken bard, Zhongli knows you would choose him. Maybe not today, but he will keep trying. Patiently demonstrating the upmost consideration so when the time comes for you to choose a spouse you will choose him. Zhongli convinces himself that out of the seven its him who deserves to be by your side. The patiently, gentleman Zhongli, will capture your heart, because who else deserves to spend eternity by your side.
Zhongli's worship is attentive, respectful, quietly fiercely loyal.
When Childe overhears the other fatui members whispering "There are rumors the god of Teyvat has arrived in Mondstadt. Taking on the form of a beautiful young woman." he stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening. He stops the informant demanding more details. Its Childe who has to show the most restraint in his entire life when the you agree to meet with the fatui harbingers. Your expression cold as you greet each member, your voice curt and short not entertaining a longer conversation. Childe has to fight back a grin when he first sees you and hears your voice. The sound immediately familiar to him. His heart racing, fingers twitch to touch you, hold you, to thank you over and over again. When your eyes finally land on him your expression quickly changes. You smile brightly, "Childe" you call his name is such an affection manner it makes his knees weak. The sweet sound throwing his mind back to when your warmth surrounded him in that dark pit. He finds himself dropping to knees before he even thinks, his head low and gaze to the floor to hide the tears threatening to slip. "The Fatui await your every command your grace."
Childe becomes your friend, easily, naturally. Even if you can not remember comforting him in the abyss. The other harbingers are completely dumbfounded why out of all of them you choose to spend all your time with Childe. And Childe is so prideful about it. He becomes infatuated with you. Learns every little thing about you. Falls in love with you. His world seems lighter, brighter whenever he speaks with you. He becomes addicted to your laughter. Wants it all to himself. Starts to imagine what it be like to be yours, your only. And when you return his feelings, he's elated. And Childe doesn't believe he'll ever let you go, he cant, not when he finally has you in the flesh. No he can't see his life without you in it and he'll keep it that way. No matter what or who threatens his happiness.
Childe's worship is possessive, selfish, brazen, bloodthirsty and warm like a fire comforting you on a cold winter's night.
One more below!
SIKE but no keep reading please
I'm currently in the middle of making some genshin related art and if that interests you maybe you can take a look at my instagram 👉👈
I'm also going write a NSFW sagau piece next. Which will include Xiao(and Venti again, really suddenly have fallen hard for him)🥰 this is my first time dipping my toes into writing characters that are not OCs so I'm trying🙇‍♀️
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k-hotchoisan · 6 months
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hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)
Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕
anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕🤭🧎‍♀️
omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)
Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰
Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.
AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭
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Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.
Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex
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You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;
a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;
b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.
He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.
“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.
Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.
“I’m going home.”
Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?”
You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”
Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-
“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”
You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.
As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.
A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.
Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.
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The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.
You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.
On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.
You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.
It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.
Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.
The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.
And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.
You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.
The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.
Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.
A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.
Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.
A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.
From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.
At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.
Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.
He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.
“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.
“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”
“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.
Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.
“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.
Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.
“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.
His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-
“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.
“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”
“But-“
“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.
He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.
“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.
You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.
He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.
“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.
Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.
“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.
Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.
“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.
He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.
“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”
And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.
“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,
“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 4 months
Text
Seat Belts Save Lives
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: You and your brothers get into a car accident, and Dean blames himself.
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“Would you put your seatbelt on?”
You rolled your eyes at Sam’s demand and ignored him.
“You know that’s not safe.”
“Eh, leave her be Sammy,” Dean cut in. “We’ve got a long drive, if she wants to lay out back there let her. She should get some sleep anyway.”
You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at Sam as you made yourself comfortable in the back.
“Whatever,” Sam grumbled, reaching for the radio.
“Excuse me?” Dean scoffed as he slapped Sam’s hand away. “You don’t get to change my station, you know the rules, Sammy.”
“They’ve played the same song four times in a row, Dean. I figured you didn’t notice, so I’d give you a hand.”
“I noticed,” Dean said defensively. “I like this song.”
“So did I,” Sam huffed. “But that was before—Dean, watch out! Hey—“
Sam reached over to jerk the steering wheel, but it was too late. The car that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere—on the wrong side of the road—slammed into the side of the Impala. You felt your body leave the seat, your head slamming into the back of Dean’s seat.
And then it all went black.
You awoke to the sound of Dean calling your name. Your head felt heavy, your ears were ringing, and the world seemed fuzzy for a few minutes before your head cleared. Once it did, you wished it didn’t.
Your head was pounding, and slick, sticky red was oozing out of a cut on your leg and your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when you craned your neck painfully you saw why. Along with the bleeding cuts, your wrist was twisted at a strange angle, and the Impala’s door was dented in, pinning you down so that you couldn’t even feel your legs, much less move them.
“Y/N.” You could hear the sigh of relief in Sam’s voice, coming from near your head. “Dean, her eyes are open.”
“Ok baby.” Dean’s voice came from down by your feet, on the right side of the car. “I’m gonna lift the door up, and Sammy’s gonna pull you out. I need you to brace yourself, this is gonna hurt.”
“Ok,” you whimpered, your hands beginning to shake.
“Alright, I’ve got her,” Sam told Dean, grabbing hold of you under your arms and preparing to pull you out.
“Alright. One…two…” Dean grunted at three as he lifted the door. The change in pressure sent pain shooting up your legs, and you screamed as Sam pulled you free of the car.
“I know, I know honey.” Sam collapsed in the dirt next to the Impala, hugging you to his chest as you cried. “It’s over.”
The pain refused to subside, and within seconds you gave into the dark that overtook your vision.
“She’s unconscious,” Sam said as Dean knelt next to his two younger siblings.
“The ambulance is on the way.”
“Dean, she’s lost a lot of blood.”
“She’ll be fine,” Dean insisted. “She’s gonna be just fine.”
“Is she ok? What’s going on in there?”
“She’s still unconscious,” the nurse told Sam. “We’ve finished stitching her wounds, and we’re prepping for a blood transfusion, but her blood type is hard to find.”
“Me, use me,” Dean spoke up. “We have the same type.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost a lot of blood, too,” The nurse responded. “We can’t risk—“
“I don’t care about the risk!” Dean barked. “Use my blood!”
“I—um…” the nurse seemed unsure how to respond. “Let me talk to the doctor.”
As soon as she was gone, Sam turned to his big brother. “Dean, you shouldn’t—“
“I have to. She could die, do you get that? I have to do this.”
“They can find someone else, I’m sure—“
“You don’t get it, Sam,” Dean sighed.
Sam was angry. “Don’t get it? What could I possibly not get about this, Dean?”
Dean was silent for a long moment before he spoke.
“I told her not to wear her seat belt.”
You awoke to an annoying beeping to your right, and a sharp antiseptic smell hanging in the air. You blinked your eyes open, trying to adjust to the too-bright lights. Once you had, you caught sight of Sam sleeping in a chair to your right. You turned to the other side to see Dean sitting at an uncomfortable angle in an even more uncomfortable chair, his head drooping and your hand clutched in his.
When you squeezed his hand, his head popped up.
“Hey baby,” he breathed, a grin splitting his face. “How do you feel?”
“My head hurts.” You were used to ‘sucking it up’ as Sam and Dean did, saying you were fine as long as nothing was broken. But you didn’t have the energy to lie right now; it hurt, and all you wanted was your big brother to baby you and make it feel better.
“I’m sorry.” Dean reached up his free hand and brushed your hair away from your face. “Baby I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said. “That guy came out of nowhere.”
Dean was about to respond, but stopped when Sam started to stir.
“Hey,” Sam grinned when he saw you awake. “You ok?”
“Been better.” You smiled weakly.
“The doc said you two can leave tomorrow,” Sam said.
“The two of us?” Your eyes turned back to Dean. “You’re hurt?”
“He didn’t get hurt that bad in the crash,” Sam interjected before Dean could speak. “But he lost some blood, and then he gave you some. Docs say he needs bed rest.”
“Which is ridiculous,” Dean scoffed. “I’m fine.”
“You gave blood after getting injured? Dean, are you nuts?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you got rare blood.” Dean tried to deflect with a joking smile.
“Dean.” You remained serious.
“Look,” Dean sighed. “You needed blood, I gave you some blood, it’s not a big deal.”
“You can’t just—“
“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” Dean insisted. “We’re all ok. That’s all that matters. Now get some rest, ok?”
You said nothing, and Dean’s words made you finally realize just how tired you felt.
Sam leaned over and kissed your head before leaning back in his chair, but Dean stayed right next to you, your hand gripped in his. You felt yourself slowly slipping back into sleep, but just before you gave in to your exhaustion, you heard Dean whisper to you—
“I’m sorry. I’m never gonna let anything like this happen again.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy
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fanaticsnail · 5 months
Text
Run Away With Me
Woah, boy! Longest one-shot to date right here. Loved writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it.
Word Count: 9,388
Warnings: injury, angst, fluff, romance, dark thoughts, crying, barely proof-read, mentions of prior relationship and entanglement with another person (no smut). First time writing for Luffy.
Song suggestions are here (primary song I was repeating on a loop), and here (because I wanted to feel more pain). Masterlist here.
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Your breath hitched in your throat as you gathered your skirts, sprinting with iron-willed determination towards the docks. Propelled by sheer rage, grief and adrenaline; you continued to sob through your staggered breaths. You heeded no mind to the jagged edges of rocks and stone digging harshly into your bare heals and toes, surely leaving them cut and bleeding in your swift stride.
In the distance, the figurehead of the ship continued to disappear along the horizon; eclipsed by the dawning rays of the sun cascading along the surface of the blue water. Your feet picked up the pace, refusing to relinquish your determination to meet your feet against the polished deck of the ship; holding onto your fruitless dream as the ship continued to flee from your sights.
“Never fall in love with a marine,” you heard echo throughout your mind, “a sailor, nor a pirate. Sea-travelled men will always leave, and you will be alone to bare your shame.”
Another sob fell from your lips as you continued to hold your sights onto the pale white flag of the ship, the logo of the marines waving tauntingly towards you at its retreat. Your eyes had dried up from relinquishment of your stock of tears. There was nothing left but fury.
He had left you.
After spending a night together in the strong arms of your marine: beautiful gestures and spindled words of promises of “forever,” he had left you isolated and humiliated; which he assured you he would never do.
Your feet burned against the harsh coarse sand, propelling you further towards the path of the peer. Many ships, fishermen and sailors beginning to set sail themselves; heeding you no mind as you rubbed your eyes with the back of your forearm, taking a moment to catch your breath.
Heart aching, lips quivering and lungs heavily burdened by sharp inhales and exhales; a growl of frustration and rage fled from your lips as you once again picked up your pace against the wooden, ocean-cracked planks beneath your feet. The ocean air was heavily impacted by the scent of the morning breeze, the ocean tide pulling outwards and into the sea, revealing the hardened sand beneath its retreat.
Hardening your resolve, you brushed your body past a man with a straw hat upon his head, shoving him as you propelled your body further down the dock to bring yourself closer towards the vessel that began its strategic withdrawal from your gaze.
Your bare feet stung as they pressed against the waterworn wood of the docks with sand clinging to the open wounds. Your body ached with overexertion but continued to pitifully drive yourself further towards the end of the peer. You had given everything to him. Your mind, your body, your soul; your heart. You were his and he was yours: only for a single night of passion for him to leave you abandoned and ashamed in your scorn.
Propelling with great strides and paying no mind to the end of the wooden dock concluding its path beneath your feet, a final sob escaped from your lips as you halted your sprint; holding your arms in front of you to steady yourself as your toes clung to the end of the peer.
Dropping carelessly to your knees, you continued to hold your unblinking stare on the ship your marine had sailed upon. The blood from your feet began to dry and cling to your skin as the ship became smaller and smaller in the distance, the tears drying within their ducts and shrouding with a welded seal atop them.
“I will never trust a sailing man again,” you uttered to yourself as your legs began to tingle from their extended hold beneath your weight, “never again.”
You placed your right hand against the wooden floor beneath you, shifting your weight atop your palm while wincing in pain at the damage done to your feet; attempting to raise to stand.
“Woah,” a voice exclaimed from beside you, “what happened to you?”
You looked up, the morning sun shining through the small holes in the yellow straw-hat atop a man with dark hair and mischievous, dark eyes. You were immediately taken by the innocence and sincerity in his voice as he raked his eyes over your legs and feet, assessing the damage your lengthy sprint caused to your broken skin.
“The love of a man,” you confessed darkly, a sinister chuckle falling from your lips as you trailed your gaze towards your stinging and blistering feet.
“Must’ve been some man,” he nodded with a downturned smile and bobbing his head to the side with a shrug. He stooped down to your level, offering his hand out as an added support and an introduction; “I’m Monkey D. Luffy.”
“A pleasure, truly,” you said, a sarcastic nod of your head and roll of your eyes accompanying your words. You looked from his large caramel-coloured orbs to his extended hand and apprehensively reached forward to receive his aid to stand to your feet. You winced under the pain of the fresh welts forming; realising truly only now how dishevelled you looked in the moment.
You were wearing only your white lace, sleeping camisole with a layered white skirt you hoisted to cover yourself in your sprint. Your skin lay peppered with lustful, red marks from last night’s romantic tussle within your bedsheets with the marine; your hair blown out and wild and desperate from the sprint towards the peer; your eyes stained with the memory of dried tears.
“Can you stand?” he asked with furrowed brows as he began to aid your ascension, watching you wince.
“Honestly,” you voice strained under the pain, “not really, but what choice do I have?” 
He hummed in thought, examining your body momentarily before immediately squatting to bring himself lower to your body; hooking one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your back, easily hoisting you upwards and cradle you into himself. A startled shriek fell from your lips as the warmth of his body and comfort of his actions welcomed you into himself.
“How’s this?” he asked with a warm, wolfy-grin. Your eyes widened at his movement, gazing into his innocent face in surprise at his well-natured intent.
“This is fine,” you squeaked out through your lips, clenching your teeth tightly shut in surprise.
“Oh, good,” he nodded in reply, turning away from the view of the ocean and beginning to walk with you in his arms towards the town once more. “Hold up,” he stated, feeling the grip of you within his arms and shifting you with a small hop, “can I adjust you a little bit?”
You furrowed your brows and reluctantly nodded your head. As soon as you bobbed your head in affirmation, a wider grin dawned on his face as he threw you into the air; a shriek falling from your lips as he hooked his arms beneath your knees, your body falling to land against his back as he caught you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around the front of his neck and clung to the shoulders of his brass-buttoned shirt, hooking your knees over his waist and falling your ankles to his back.
“That’s better,” he commented with a laugh, beginning a brisk pace towards the heart of town. He effortlessly walked with you clutched tightly against the back of his red waistcoat, as he walked over the peer towards the dunes of the beachfront.
“Hey back there,” he called over his shoulder to you, prompting you to look at his cheek and the corner of his eye. “You reckon you could show me where the library is?” he asked you, maintaining his pace into town, “my navigator needs a book and I’m not sure where to start.”
 You gleefully laughed at his question, adjusting your arms around his neck to ease his carry of you and gesturing towards the tall, washed sand-stone building to the left of the town.
“You’re in luck,” you smirked into him, placing your chin on his shoulder and your cheek flush against his own beneath the broad brim of the yellow straw hat, “I’m the resident librarian here.”
“You don’t say,” he chuckled warmly, looking at you through his long, dark eyelashes out of the corner of his eye; before turning to follow your extended gesture towards the building.
You hummed against his cheek, enjoying the company and aid he was providing to you on your way back towards your building. You ignored the throb of your feet under the pain and the burn of your body. Your rage had dwindled to a slow smoulder the longer you spent clutching the back of the man beneath your thighs as he carried you towards home, swinging your ankles with each step he took towards the building.
As you approached the large wooden door, Luffy stooped his back down to allow you to reach forward and use your thumb to pull the large leaver of the brass-hooked nob down and shove the door open. You couldn’t help the laugh falling from your lips as he continued to chaperone you on his back through the doors to your library.
“You can just set me down now,” you smiled at him, gesturing to a small desk and chair at the foyer of the large room, “and if you could please make sure the sign is flipped over to read ‘closed’, I would really appreciate it.”
Luffy walked you over to the foyer, opting to sit you down atop the tall desk rather than the chair; unhooking his arms from behind your legs and stalking back towards the door and looking at the sign. You sighed in relief of his relinquishment of his hold of your body; instinctively reaching towards your feet to assess the damage of the heels of your feet and the spirited wounds clutching to your ankles with your fingers.
“Yeah, that looks pretty bad,” the man who carried you to your home spoke suddenly. You realised his close proximity to you as you tore your gaze away from your wounded feet towards his awaiting eyes. You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear as you readjusted yourself under your skirts, brushing the dried sands away from your feet.
“Nothing compared to the number he did on my heart,” you chuckled darkly, hooking your right knee over your left and lacing your fingertips together expectantly; “you said something about a book your navigator needed. Does that mean you’re a sailor?”
“Something like that,” he confirmed with a nod and a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I’m a pirate.”
“A pirate?” you asked through baited breath, halting at the title he bestowed onto himself. Although the town you were currently residing in was welcoming to all travelling individuals of colour and creed; piracy was still a taboo occupation amongst the townsfolk.
“And one day,” he confirmed, leaning in towards your body, “I will find the One-Piece and be King of the Pirates.”
Your eyes widened at his proclamation before holding an air of surprise over them, absolutely believing it be possible with his hardened resolve and playful attitude.
“And what book did you require?” you asked him, tilting your face up towards him and quirking your left brow upwards in question.
“You know what?” he began, halting his words as he gawked at the sheer number of books located in your library, “I’m not sure. I think it was something to do with translation? Looking for stones? A way to bring us closer to the All-Blue? I dunno-,” he scratched his chin thoughtfully, “-all I know is, it was important.”
Your face dropped, eyes narrowing as you shook your head and tilted your chin downwards.
“Well, while you figure that out,” you sighed, a small smile falling to your face, “do you think you could pour me some water into that bowl over there,” you gestured to the sink, “and bring it over to me with a cloth?”  
He followed your gaze, locating a blue and white terracotta ceramic dish in the corner or the room by your sink. He walked over to the dish and began to fill the container to the brim, waddling over towards you with liquid splashing over the edges with each step he took towards you. You creased your brows at him in response, but your smile remained plastered on your face.
“Okay,” Luffy said, placing the dish down beside you atop the bench, “now what?”
“Now, I’m going to wash my feet and assess the damage,” you nodded down to the blistering welts, purple hued bruises and slices of flesh peeled back under your harsh, barefoot sprint, “and you’re going to focus your thoughts on what book you were looking for.”
Looking down towards your bare feet, Luffy winced a little in empathy. His eyes then widened in thought, floating his gaze back up to glance into your face once again.
“Tell you what,” he declared with a joyful expression adorning his cheeks, “if you talk with me about books to help me remember,” he stepped closer towards you, “I’ll fix your feet up for you. Does that sound okay?”
You were taken aback, yet again, at the thoughtfulness of this complete stranger; as he immediately moved to gather your chair and place it in front of you and sat atop it.
“Lay it on me!” he declared with a loud, smiling voice; patting his thigh and gesturing to your right foot. You quirked your brow upwards and hesitantly hooked your right leg over your left knee in front of the hat-adorned pirate in front of you. He firmly gasped your ankle and pulled your foot towards his face. You winced in pain and shrieked again at the action, prompting him to look back up at you again.
“Sorry,” he grit his teeth and softened his eyes up at you. Reaching his hands towards the cloth, he dampened it in the water and began carefully wiping at your skin to remove the dried sand and blood from your foot, ankle and calf.
“Take my mind off it,” you stated through your own clenched jaw, “tell me about the conversation with the navigator, or where you’re journeying to. Might give me a hint on helping you find the book you need.”
He smiled at you, continuing to swipe at your tender flesh of your right foot; checking it over for any serious injury and removing the stains of pain from you.
“I can tell you about my crew if you like?” he smiled down at your foot, focussing his attention on a particularly deep puncture wound on the ball of your foot, “I have Nami, my navigator. She’s really smart,” he removed a piece of stone from your foot, you wincing at it with a small yelp. He again looked up at you, eyes full of sympathy as he rubbed his thumb over the wound to sooth it with his pressure.
“Nami sounds wonderful,” you smiled down at him, quirking your head and softening your eyes.
“Oh, she is,” he confirmed with a broad grin, “and then there’s Zoro. He’s the First Mate, an ex-bounty hunter. Best swordsman I’ve ever known.”
You nodded along, actively listening to the words falling from the man in front of you and imagining what life must look like for him.
“And there’s Usopp,” Luffy tapped your right foot gently to indicate for you to switch your legs over for him to pay equal attention to your left, “he’s our sharp-shooter.”
You unhooked your right leg from atop your left knee and switched over to your left hooking atop your right; smoothing your skirt over your thighs to keep yourself gracefully shrouded from unintentional exposure. He whispered his fingertips over your shin with his right hand while reaching behind your calf with his left to hold it firmly in place.
Breath hitching in your throat, a warm blush rose to your cheeks at his touch. He set to smoothing over your foot, dampening the cloth once more and rinsing your wounded heels and toes with the rag.
“Then there’s Sanji, the chef. He’s amazing at cooking,” Luffy continued, “I especially like the way he prepares pork,” he hummed, eyes glazing over in thought; “I love meat. Meat is my favourite.”
You giggled at his utterance, biting your lip to halt the rise of emotion up into your chest.
“And where do you fit into the crew?” you asked him breathily, “you made no mention of your captain either.”
“That’s because I am the captain,” he tilted his head to look back into your eyes, “and like I said, I will be king of the pirates one day. Gotta start somewhere.”
You gasped at the thought; a pirate captain humbling himself before you and taking care of your wounds after your heart was shattered by a lowly marine cadet. Maybe you had been too hasty in your decision of swearing off travelling men. You shook your head at the thought, softening your gaze down at him as he focussed on cleaning the dried blood from your feet.
“And where are you travelling to, captain?” you asked him softly, watching how carefully he picked at the rocks imbedded in your flesh to rid them from you.
“The Grand Line,” he stated nonchalantly with a shrug. You sighed out sharply with a laugh at him, prompting him to playfully grin up at you.
“You’re really doing it, then?” you asked him, leaning your hands against the desk you were sat atop and shifting your weight onto them, “travelling dangerous waters in search of Gol D. Roger’s One-Piece?”
“Yep,” he confirmed. He hesitated at releasing your foot from his grip, looking down at your feet and tilting his head to the side in deep thought.
“You’d need some knowledge about volcanic activity below sea level and how to navigate the cross,” you nodded before tilting your head back to look at the roof of the library, “probably changes in weather impacting the sails and steering of the ship as you travel. You might also need direction on edible weeds and plants on your journey. Again, lucky for you; I adore reading up on the subject and well versed in-,”
“-Come with me,” Luffy uttered suddenly, holding firm his gaze at your feet, “be my historian. You have everything I’m missing and I want you on my crew.”
You furrowed your brows, snapping your gaze back from its hold on the roof and back towards the stranger in front of you. You gawked at him as he continued: “well, I don’t have a musician or a doctor yet, but I also need a historian,” he shrugged, adding a simple: “be mine.”
You quivered, your eyes flittering between his caramel orbs in awe as he floated his eyes up to join with yours.
“I-I,” you stuttered, unhooking your knees and leaning towards him, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll run away with me,” he leaned forward with a playful grin, “be my historian, join my crew.”
You shut your eyes tightly in thought, imagining what your life might look like sailing the seas as a pirate; fleeing from the embarrassment from last nights’ overexertion and lustful activities and hiding from baring the brunt of your shame. You breathed out a long exhale, reopening your eyes and jumping slightly in surprise to see the captain standing incredibly close in proximity to you now; his body situated to stand between your knees with a broad smile.
“What do you say?” he asked you, grinning wider in question and leaning in closer.
You searched the sincere eyes of the brunette captain in front of you, finding only sincerity in its wake. He truly meant every word falling charismatically from his lips, persuading you with his genuineness and positivity.
“Who will take care of the books here?” were the only thoughts falling, truly reaching for any reason to remain behind.
“Bring them with you,” he shrugged, “we’ve got room. C’mon, I need you. You’ll love the crew, and they’ll love you.”
He brought his body away from its close proximity to you and began to turn away from you to make his way towards the door.
“We’ll be docked for another day to restock the kitchen,” he opened the door, turning his back once more to you, “we’re leaving the following morning. If you’re coming, let me know tonight at the tavern and I’ll help you bring your stuff.”
He waved, before turning back around and shut the door quietly behind him with a small ‘click’.
Astonishment overcame you in all aspects. You fell your eyes to your cleaned and tidied feet, no longer aching nor stinging from the impact of your hasty sprint towards your marine ex-lover. Your body became overwhelmed with emotions. You had no more tears to flee from your ducts at the thoughts of the military man; the only remnants of your time together were the marks littering your collarbone, neck and chest from his passionate ministrations. He used words to get what he wanted from your body physically, fleeing once you had given yourself willingly to him before you woke.
Now here comes this pirate, no expectations falling onto you a part from a place on his ship and a welcome into his familial crew. He was giving you the ending you so desperately desired from your marine lover; to be whisked away from your town and romantically swept into the horizon aboard a mighty vessel.
The only aspect halting you from readying yourself and your supplies and running into servitude aboard a pirate ship were two things: your feet, legs and body ached under the earlier sprint: damage truly impacting your ability to walk.
The other inhibition is the purpose for your travel. You would move the heavens and the earth to feel true, open and honest love for an individual; the true purpose you clung so tightly to the marine. You desired love: to love and be loved in return. Romanticism clung to you like the scent of baked goods wafting from a baker’s door; filling the fibres of your being with the desire of deep, relentless devotion and adoration.
Luffy offered you no such relentless devotion; friendship and kinship being the only things he truly offered to you. There was no romantic notions of love and affection; just truly alliance through acquaintanceship and comradery. Sucking in a sharp inhale, you jumped down from your place atop the desk and planted your feet against the ground firmly. Expecting more pain in anticipation than you truly felt, you shrugged at the dull pain and began to slowly limp up the spiral staircase towards your sleeping area above the large library.
You looked down at your collection from the balcony; your shop being relatively small in comparison to the great libraries of old; but beautiful none the less. You were unsure whether you would’ve truly left it all behind for the marine, only wanting to reach the peer to demonstrate your absolute fury towards him in front of his commander and servicemen. Were you prepared to leave it for a man who promised you nothing than friendship?
Shaking your head, you looked down at your feet which began to heal over with rapidity. The memory of the way he tenderly held your skin and tentatively brushed his hands over your flesh to care for it overcame you, your heart swelling at the feeling.
With no family to impart their thoughts and wisdom onto you, you rolled your shoulders back and glanced down towards the variety of shelves of your beloved books before a ghost of sorrow fell over your face. You will miss their pages, but the notion of belonging to the seas as they carried you from place to place enchanted you. You will join them, and hopefully romance will find you on your journeys.
-
Wolfing down plate after plate of smoked brisket, honeyed hams and braised lamb shoulder; Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought of his encounter with the librarian. Zoro’s frown deepened at his Captain’s expression, noting his usual cheeriness was missing from his aura.
“What happened?” Zoro grumbled through his lips, reclining against the wooden chair and raising a brown-stained glass bottle to his lips and taking a swig.
“I mwet uh raidy,” Luffy attempted to relay through a full mouth.
“Try again,” Zoro ordered, eyes rolling at the display the captain was offering him, “swallow your food first.”
Luffy nodded, shutting his eyes with a flutter of eyelashes and wincing at swallowing the large quantity of meat in his mouth, before uttering; “I met a lady.”
“A lady?” Zoro asked, narrowing his eyes at him in question, “what kind of lady?”
“A really smart one,” Luffy nodded, reaching for a large roasted turkey leg with a citrus glaze oozing from the crisped skin, “I want her.”
Usopp choked on his food, spluttering a little at the uninhibited thoughts falling from the lips of his captain without filter.
“In what capacity?” Zoro asked with a quirk of his brow, not acknowledging Usopp’s choked action nor the captain’s unfiltered expression.
“As my historian,” he said, biting into the meat and rolling his eyes back at the flavour, “uhnd ash mai feund.”
“Swallow your food,” Zoro ordered, pausing between each word as he spoke them slowly, “then speak.”
Luffy nodded, waving his hand dismissively in front of his face as he chewed and choked down his food enthusiastically, “as my historian, and as my friend.”
Zoro nodded, taking the glass neck of the bottle and tipping the amber fizzed ale back between his lips and draining the remainder of the contents from within.
“She’s so pretty,” Luffy whispered beneath his breath to himself, “even when she’s sad, she’s pretty.”
“Why was she sad?” the orange-haired navigator said as she took a seat beside Luffy, her plate containing a small portion of crème brulee with fresh berries and whipped cream atop it, “and did you manage to get the book on volcanic plate shifting?”
Luffy turned to her with a small smile, “some marine left her here, I think.”
“Marines are assholes,” Nami confirmed with a nod, sinking a small teaspoon into the bowl, breaking the solidified sugar layer and scooping a portion of the custard-cream beneath it, “and the book?”
“I don’t want the book,” Luffy nodded, turning back to the tray of meat in front of him, “I just want her.”
“And if she doesn’t want to come?” Usopp chimed in, looking at Nami’s dessert longingly, “not everyone dreams of sailing the seas, you know.”
“I don’t know,” Luffy shrugged, reaching for more of the shredded, smoked brisket and spooning a large portion onto his plate with a large ‘slap’, “something tells me she might.”
-
You had changed into some light travel clothes; choosing to bandage and strap your feet and ankles beneath laced and comfortable shoes to aid in the healing of your cracked and damaged feet. You showered, changed and arranged a cohesive arrangement of clothes over your body to meet with your new captain together with his crew for the first time. Holding every intention of travelling with the assortment of pirates, you decided to meet with them at the tavern to inform them of your intentions of travelling with them as their historian.
Walking down the stone path slowly, wincing a little at a subtle wrong step which aggravated your injured feet; you made it to the tavern and smiled as soon as your gaze fell to the straw-hatted captain sitting at a table with four others; who you assumed were members of his crew. You examined each of them, first starting with Nami; the only woman Luffy made mention of in the prior conversation.
The best part about being a book-smart individual was the ability to remember knowledge at a rapid and ever expanding capacity. Your eyes fell to a sword at the hip of a green-haired, tall man; your mind informing you ‘Zoro’. You travelled your gaze over to the bandana-clad man in front of Luffy, noticing placed beside him on the table was a sling-shot; “Usopp” rolling over in your mind. All that was left was-.
“Hello, beautiful,” a voice called at your side, prompting you to shift your focus to a tall, blonde man with a tailored black suit jacket fastened with brass buckles, a dark tie upon his neck.
“Sir,” you nodded your head at him, a polite smile rising to your face. You travelled your gaze over him, his air of confidence and flirtation rolling off of him in waves. Noticing his proximity to the travelling assortment you were planning on meeting, you determined this was the chef Luffy mentioned earlier.
“I’m S-,” he began, halting only as you spoke over him.
“-Sanji,” you smiled warmly now, reaching out your right hand to meet with his in a friendly welcome, “Luffy told me about you earlier.”
Sanji shook his head, taken slightly aback at your acknowledgement before promptly reaching down and grasping your fingertips within his right hand and rising it to his lips; placing a small kiss atop your knuckles.
“A pleasure,” he said, falling his grip from your hands while mirroring your smile, “unfortunately, I’m yet to join my crew for the evening meal, so I have no context surrounding you. Who might you be, love?”
“Your new historian,” you giggled, falling in a heavily sarcastic curtsey; prompting him to laugh in response, “and the pleasure is mine.”
At the large laughter, Luffy turned around from his seat at the table; his gaze falling to Sanji before floating his dark eyes over to meet with you.
“There she is,” he stated in a low tone, eyes widening before a cheery and triumphant laugh fell from his lips, “I knew she’d join my crew!”
“Where?” Usopp said, turning around and noticing Sanji interacting with you; his eyes equally widening, “she’s beautiful.”
“Right?” Luffy stated more in confirmation rather than question, turning back to Zoro, “isn’t she pretty?”
Zoro raked his eyes over your body, assessing the threat of you joining amongst the crew and noticing below your collar, red marks peppering your neck above your pulse and trailing down towards your clavicle. Nami noticed Zoro’s fixation and turned to acknowledge the interaction falling between you and Sanji.
“She’s stunning,” Nami said with a nod, “and you said she’s the librarian here?”
“Uh-huh,” Luffy nodded his head broadly, “she’s got so many books at her place, huge collection.”
“What were you doing at her place?” Zoro asked a little too quickly, his eyes falling from the red marks on your neck back to focus on the captain in front of him.
“Her feet were all cut up from running to catch the marine ship,” Luffy nodded again, reaching forward to take another glazed turkey leg into his hands and raise it up to his lips, “so I carried her back home and took care of her.”
Zoro hummed, turning his sights to the empty beer bottle in his hands and looking at the bar, “I’m gonna get another drink,” he declared, rising to his feet with a small grunt, “be back in a minute.”
“Sure thing,” Luffy said with a large toothy grin, “can you get me a juice while you’re up there?”
Zoro sighed, nodding in confirmation before turning away to walk towards the bar.
Sanji escorted you with his hand hovering at the small of your back, steadying you in your wincing hobble towards the table with the Straw-Hat pirate crew; sans swordsman.
“Hello Captain,” you nodded shyly, prompting Luffy to turn to face you; immediately rising to his feet at your approach.
“Hello historian!” he declared, placing his hands atop your shoulders and pulling you into a warm embrace, “I’m so glad you decided to run away with me.”
A warm blush rose itself to your cheeks at his unbridled declaration. You apprehensively placed your arms around his back, arching them up to cradle his shoulders beneath his circular grip. He sighed as he held you close to him, overjoyed at your acceptance of his offer.
“Meet the crew,” he whispered in a low hum into your cheek, slowly releasing you from his embrace, “this is-.”
“Nami,” you nodded to the orange-haired woman, “the navigator who wanted a book, I’m only assuming here, was about pressure plates on the ocean floor and volcanic activity close to the grand line?”
“Yes on both accounts,” Nami smiled, watching attentively as you reached into your satchel and retrieved a large journal for her.
“Then this little baby,” you began, reaching out your hand containing the book, “is specifically for you. Enjoy charting!”
Nami sighed a large release of air from within her chest, “finally, competency and intelligence. I am so glad you’re coming with us.”
“Me too, believe me,” you giggled before noticing the captain still remained one arm around your shoulders as he turned you to meet with Usopp.
“Usopp the sharp-shooter, I presume,” you smiled at him with a polite nod.
“That I am,” he grinned widely, basking in his acknowledgement and title.
“You really pay attention to everything, don’t you?” Luffy gawked at you in awe, before lowering his voice; praising you with, “so smart.”
The blush returned and held itself firm against your cheeks, nose and upper ears.
“All we’re missing now is-,” Luffy began, cut off by a cup being placed in his available hand by the green-haired swordsman, “-ah! Zoro! This is our historian.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” you politely nodded your head towards him.
“Pleasure’s mine,” he nodded in return to you and rose the brown bottle of liquid to his lips and took a quick swig of the liquid contents within.
“You hungry?” Luffy offered, unhooking his arm from your shoulders and reaching for a chair to pull out for you, “have some meat.”
You giggled before wincing as you shifted your weight uncomfortably atop one of the painful cut on your right foot, a hand immediately reaching up to catch yours to usher you to sit.
“I got you,” Luffy grinned at you, helping you to sit atop the wooden stool against the table, “just sit down and meet the crew. You’re family now!” he grinned widely and took a seat directly next to you, piling meat onto both his and your plate and began consuming it passionately.
Sanji noticed the dynamic immediately falling between you, arching his brow upwards towards Nami; who mirrored a similar expression on her face at the interaction. Whether Luffy noticed or not, he was absolutely smitten with you, and you looked similarly cursed with infatuation towards him.
Over the following few months, your feet had healed of their afflictions and the marks on your skin from the passionate encounter with the marine cadet had all but faded into a distant memory.
Although apprehensive to leave all of your beloved, aged books behind; the mayor of the town appointed an apprentice librarian to overtake your duties under the promise that it would always first and foremost be home to you should you desire your return. You managed to pack all of the necessities and a small collection of your favourite romance novels, and useful travelling information for your navigator alongside botany and herbal remedies for the chef.
You enjoyed sitting above the deck after completing chores and ships maintenance duties, reading whatever you so desired under the rays of the afternoon sun; basking in the warmth and truly relishing in the waves clashing against the hull. Although it took a few days to adjust to the sway of the ocean, you managed to make yourself comfortable enough to sleep atop a hanging bed within your crew quarters.
One thing you still remained missing in this sea-bearing adventure was the romance you so desired. You noticed first Sanji and how flirtatious he truly was, the first who you viewed as potential suitor; but you shot down the thought immediately as it crossed over your mind, his presence and demeanour reminding you too much of the marine who swindled a night from you.
Zoro was the next on your list, but you found his aura much too intimidating and harsh in his exterior. Although he eventually did warm to you, he felt like an older brother who perpetually looked out for you and the remainder of the crew as the loyal knight; a quality that you absolutely enjoyed.
Usopp was another story entirely. He spoke so highly of his first love, a noblewoman by the name of Kaya at Syrup-Village. He remained completely taken with her, relaying tales of his encounters with gusto. The tales were what smothered the developing feelings within your chest; lying was not a quality you particularly enjoyed, especially after the tussle with the marine.
Nami was a wonderful option to you, but she immediately made it clear to all around her that she was absolutely happy to flirt a little here and there; but never take it further than just that. You enjoyed flirtations, sure; but romance was what you were truly after.
After your assessments made of your entire crew, you began to apprehensively release your dream of romance on the high seas and attempt to find a new dream to cling to.
“I have another one for you!” your captain declared to you gleefully, waving a book in the air. You smiled, turning towards him and placing your novel on the wooden bench beside you.
You had been at sea for the past week and desperately required a layover to replenish your kitchen supplies. Each time you would dock at a new port, Luffy would bring you a book to add to your collection. Every book he brought you was completely different than the other; some were romance, some were collection guides to precious metals and mineral stones, some were even children’s books.
“Thank you, Luffy,” you beamed at him, rising to your feet and approaching him and the new book he had brought to you, “what is it this time?”
“I’m not really sure,” Luffy nodded with a downturned smile, “but Sanji said it was a good one for you. The pictures look nice?”
You nodded at him, looking into his wide caramel orbs with appreciation and adoration, before turning your attention to the book within his hands and immediately shrieked in complete shock. You were unsure how both the colour could drain from someone’s face but a warm, heated blush could also rise: yet here you were; a place somewhere between bewilderment, embarrassment and complete shock at the object he had brought to you.
When the small gifts started, it was almost apparent that Luffy was not completely illiterate; just blissfully ignorant of a few things, particularly when it came to the way he acted around you. He was beautiful, his soul was sincere and his expression was without inhibitions or restraint. You always knew exactly how he was feeling, him always approaching you if he needed clarification on a subject he wasn’t well versed in.
He would always find a way to touch you, reassuring both you and himself. Whether it be: under a gentle brush of your shoulder, taking your hand within the crook of his elbow to lead you around town, steadying your hips above the deck under particularly choppy waves, taking you by the hand and bringing you over to the mast of the ship if he saw a creature jumping above the sea to greet you. His touch was a comfort to both of you, and very welcomed in its receival.
You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t harbour feelings of romantic notions for your captain, but under his ignorance on the subject; you chose to not pursue engaging in anything more than comradery.
And now, he has brought you a graphic guide on intimate entanglements from the North, East, South and West Blues with accompanying pictures beside their written descriptors.
“A-and you said,” you stuttered, trying to collect your thoughts, “you s-said Sanji picked this out?”
“Yeah,” he nodded with a large grin, “although, I do like some of the pictures.”
Your eyes continued to get wider at the notion that he’s looked at the explicit material within the pages; “Luffy, this is-,” you caught yourself, attempting to choose the next words as carefully as you could, “vastly different than anything you’ve brought to me so far. The last one was a children’s story about a small mouse, and now-,” you inhaled, bringing your hands together in a palm to palm clap and raising your fingertips to your nose and the crease in your brow, “-you’ve brought me an in depth guide to intimate relations.”
Luffy quirked his head to the side, with a small “Hah,” sound. He turned the book to the side and furrowed his brows in thought, “I thought it was some kind of wrestling.”
“It is in some cases, Captain,” you sighed out a shaken, slow breath and rolled your shoulders back.
“You don’t say,” he said thoughtfully, bringing his free hand to his chin and scratching it deep in thought before asking suddenly, “so, you don’t want it?”
“I never said that,” you said all to quickly for your liking, shocking both yourself and Luffy, “I’m happy to add it to my ever growing collection of gifts from you, sir.”
“Oh, okay then!” he said, thrusting the book into your arms. You lifted your shaking hands up towards the book and clasped it gently within your fingertips; Luffy’s hand meeting with your two in the process.
“Thank you, captain,” you smiled through gritted teeth, still caught in your fluster while your captain remained delightfully ill-informed to his most recent gift’s implications.
“You’re welcome, historian,” he smiled warmly before turning back on his heal and walked away.
The first time that he kissed you, you were unsure if it was intentional or truly accidental.
You were walking along the coastal shore back towards the Going Merry, his arm hanging around your shoulders, while yours clasped lowly around his hip. He was relaying a small memory of his childhood, a man named Red-Haired Shanks often spoken amongst the happier memories. You giggled at one comment, Luffy puffing up his chest in perfect imitation of one of the members of the Red-Hair Pirate crew.
At the conclusion of your melodical laugh, Luffy arched his face into yours and pressed his lips affectionately against the apple of your cheek, uttering compliments of; “you have a great laugh.”
Your face drew into a beet-red colour as Luffy continued to chaperone you along the sandy shore. You couldn’t ignore the rapid pace of your chest, your heat beating irregularly in rhythm and a small tingle ran up your spine and coursed through your chest.
“Okay,” he declared gleefully, “now we’ve got the Red-Hair Pirate stories out of the way, let me tell you about Buggy the Clown.”
“Yes, Captain,” you replied shyly, holding firmer against his waist as he relayed memory about a blue-haired pirate captain who also happened to have similar Devil-Fruit abilities to Luffy.
After that first small taste of affection offered freely from your captain, you began to actively seek it out from him to test whether he did harbour romantic intention toward you or whether it was truly a hoax. You quickly found that, alongside his other need to feel you beneath his fingertips, that his lips also required your skin beneath them.
Cheeks, hands, shoulders, temple, forehead; everything apart from the one place you truly desired was met by the lips of your captain. It seemed he wished to remain platonic in friendship; which was slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. You were smitten, completely overtaken by the thoughts of romanticism with the Devil-Fruit user; yet not readily approaching him with the same manner of unbridled affection as he had been over the past few days. The way you decided to show him affection was to be a willing recipient to receive all of his needs and requirements to fill his cup of his need of physical touch and quality time.
This particular evening, he was reclining against you, laying his straw-hat covered head in your lap as you read one of your novels. He appeared to be resting his eyes, a small snore would fall from his lips every now and again, to which you responded with a small teetered giggle and absent-mindedly rested your hand upon his chest and soothed over the skin beneath it.
As you completed the final chapter in your novel, you closed the book and sighed in contentment; fantasising about meeting a romance such as the one you were just engaging with. You were wrong to seek out a marine: that was stupidity manifest on your part. Of course he was going to leave you, sailors always do. Pirates, however? None had yet betrayed your trust as much as the cadet had with empty promises of romance.
You groaned and brought your fingertips to your brow, smoothing over the headache in an effort to rid your subconscious of all memory of him. Your bleeding, hopelessly romantic heart yearned for that closeness; to feel it truly and deeply – that love you so craved and was met by complete emptiness: lust being the only mutual feeling shared between you and the military trainee.
“You okay?” Luffy asked you, peeking up at you through one of his eyes.
“Of course Captain,” you smiled at him, eyes always soft for him behind the melancholy you were feeling. He noticed the shift in your tone and sat up immediately, turning to face you with his legs crossed.
“You finished your book? Is that why you’re sad?” he asked you, his brows furrowing in the middle of his forehead while his beautiful brown eyes deeply searched yours beneath his long onyx eyelashes. You sighed and shook your head with a smile, “no captain, I’m not sad.”
“You’re not a good liar,” he said with a small smile, turning his eyes towards the wood below you, “you should save that for Usopp, although he’s not very good at it either.”
You chuckled lightly at that comment, Luffy instinctively seeking out your hands to grasp within his own as he continued to hold his gaze to the ground. His thumb circled over the skin on the back of your hand, carefully ghosting his digits along each of your knuckles slowly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked you, quirking his head up slightly to look shyly up at you, “my ears are yours.”
You sighed with an overburdened breath, feeling the weight release itself from your shoulders as you began to formulate the words within your mind.
“When you found me, I was at my lowest,” you confessed, “I don’t think I truly told you, or anyone, about what happened that night.”
Luffy chose not to speak, just nod in curiosity at you while you continued to relay your thoughts.
“Your dream is to be King of the Pirates,” you allowed yourself to freely express the words from within your chest, “and mine is just to love,” you nodded along in your confession, “and to be loved in return.”
Luffy circled your knuckles with the pads of his thumbs and inched himself closer to you, knees brushing against each other’s in the process of his closer proximity.
“I was looking for it, actively searching for it the way that we are searching for the One-Piece for you,” you continued, tightening your grasp around his fingertips as he held you within his own, “and when I fell for him,” you grit your teeth, “I thought I had found it. He was my knight, my rescuer,” your lips quivered at the thought, again opening your rage you hadn’t dealt with since the beginning of your quest.
“He was meant to be my love, Luffy,” you confessed darkly, “but he was just a channel for my lust, a syphon of my happiness, and nothing but an arrow to my heart.”
Luffy released your right hand from his left, hooking his right thumb to encase all eight of your extended digits within his firm grasp; falling his left hand to rest against your knee to further comfort you as you expressed your sorrow.
“I-I just,” you continued, fighting the pit forming actively within your throat, “I want it so badly, Luffy. When I think about it, I can’t breathe; I can’t speak. I want nothing more than to give my heart and have it cherished and to love passionately with every fibre of my being.”
You were searching all around with your eyes, avoiding meeting his gaze at all costs; truly relishing in the company he was providing to you, actively listening and hanging onto every utterance and confession that fell freely from your lips.
“And when I tried it with him,” your voice hitched within your throat, halting your thoughts. You gulped down the dryness in your mouth and continued to formulate the words, “I felt truly broken. There was nothing there, only emptiness and suffering.”
“What happened that night?” he asked you, quietly prompting you to speak the words you were trying desperately to avoid, “please. Please tell me.”
You released a stifled growl of anger, directed not at your captain but at the memory of the cadet, “I don’t particularly want to spell it out for you.”
Luffy rose himself to his knees, kneeling over you while removing the hand on your knee upwards to cradle your face beneath his warm palm.
“I don’t care,” he uttered darkly, “you need to tell me, and I’m waiting to hear it.”
“It was lust, Luffy,” you growled, still avoiding his gaze but welcoming his palm against your cheek with a small lean of your cheek against it, “lust disguised as love. Disguised as the beauty and purity of a lily, but truly the monster lurking beneath it ready to strike and devour in its wake.”
“And how did the monster strike you?” he asked, moving his palm down to your chin and rising your eyes up to meet his.
“It stole my dream from me,” you whispered against his flesh, “and left me blistered, bleeding and broken; all alone in the world with skin peppered with yearning marks openly displaying my shame.”
“I’ll tear it apart,” he uttered darkly, his eyes holding true to that promise, “I’ll help you reignite your dream.”
You felt the corners of your eyes begin to prick with the first tears you hadn’t felt overwhelm you since welding them shut all of those months ago. This was your captain, holding your body close to his and promising you with complete sincerity and truthfulness that he was going to help you achieve your dreams as you were searching to achieve his.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered bringing his face closer to your own, “I-,” he halted his words as they formed in his throat, “-I want to help you.”
You creased your brows in confusion at his statement, as he had already declared to you that he was actively going to help you achieve your grand, romantic dream of finding your greatest love.
“I don’t under-,” you began, halting your words as his lips were brought down to meet with your own. Your eyes were wide as you felt the gentle caress of his lips atop your own, his hand smoothing itself over your cheek and begin to lace within your hairline over your ear. Both of you were as shocked as the other, him immediately tearing his lips away from yours and pulling back from your embrace and close proximity.
“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes wide with concern, “I don’t know why I did that.”
“Captain,” you addressed him in a whisper, your eyes now releasing a small trail of emotion from the corners of your eyes. He brought his eyes back to meet with your own, floating his gaze between your irises and looking down to your lips once more.
“I want to be that,” he said, bringing his body closer to yours once more, “I want to be that for you.”
“Luffy,” you whispered again, your bottom lip quivering as your heart began to swell with emotion.
“From when you first touched me on the dock,” his smile returned to his face, “you bumped into me, you know.”
You shook your head with a small smile clinging to your lips once more, reaching your hands out to seek out his own.
“You bumped me when you ran towards the end of the peer,” he nodded, taking your hands within his once more, “and you tickled my interest. Your ferocity, your beauty. I wanted that.”
You giggled sorrowfully, looking down to the wooden deck. Luffy chased your gaze by lowering his head to be within your sights; a small laugh fleeing from both of you as he did so.
“Can we do that?” he asked, nudging your chin upwards with the top of his hair before pressing a small kiss against your nose, “can I love you?”
“I don’t know what to say,” your earlier words repeating from your lips, the memory of him asking you to join his crew eclipsing over your mind and memory.
“Say you’ll run away with me,” he whispered lovingly to you, echoing his words back to you with a wide intimate smile made just for you, “I’ll never let you go.”
Sucking in a final breath of determination and becoming overwhelmed with emotions, you propelled yourself forward into his arms; releasing his hands from within your own and lacing them around his neck. The sheer force of your jump pushed his body back and had you falling into him.
The knocking clumsily of teeth within the overwhelming joy of your embrace was the happiest you truly felt. Your heart swelled as your captain circled his arms not only around your back, but elasticising themselves to constrict your bodies together; lacing around his own back, wrapping around yours in the process. You squealed in delight as he held you closer, your smiles prohibiting you both from deepening the kiss further but enjoying the feeling of nearness all together.
Hoisting you into the air, he rose to his feet and spun you gleefully in a circle, continuing to press his lips firmly against your own in a passionate embrace. He placed you down carefully on the ground once more; unwrapping his tightly bound, elastic arms from your body as you trailed your fingertips beneath his straw hat and clutched at the curls at the nape of his neck. He groaned against your lips at the feeling of you massaging his scalp and pressed further kisses feverishly against your mouth.
He trailed his mouth over your cheek, down to your jaw and looped his arms around your waist, pulling you to rest flush against his stomach and chest as you accidentally knocked the straw hat from his head. The drawstring successfully held his hat dangling firmly from his neck and down between his shoulder blades, prompting another laugh to escape your lips.
Grabbing a hold of his cheeks and relinquishing his assault against your neck, you brought his face once more up towards you and trailed a warm and welcoming caress of your lips against his own. His brows furrowed at the intensity, choosing to suck in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose as he motionlessly held you against himself; choosing to feel every emotion rolling from you onto him.
Breaking from the kiss, you both gazed through half-lidded eyes at each other; true adoration and love being completely shared between the two of you.
“How’s this?” he asked you, pressing his forehead against your own and closing his eyes once more as he felt your breath and heartbeat echoing his own.
“This,” you began, closing your own eyes and feeling his love and adoration falling from him in waves, “is fine.”
“Oh, good,” he whispered, removing his forehead from your own and replacing it with a gentle kiss, “now let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
553 notes · View notes
astroph1les · 7 months
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maroon [h.c]
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summary: hazel’s fight with tucker made you realize how much she means to you. caretaking and ass-kicking ensues.
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
contains: mature language, violence and blood, reader has a slight panic attack, attentive and kind! reader, making out (for the distraction of course) mutual pining, sweet and fluffy, hurt/comfort (my weakness), women being bad-asses.
word count: 3.5K
a/n: this is both a request and won a poll. that scene still makes me wince to this day. and yes, the title is a taylor swift song. the lyrics, though, have nothing to do with the actual oneshot. i love you all and enjoy <33
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You had told Hazel that agreeing to this would be a bad idea. After Tim had approached Hazel with the chance to humiliate PJ and Josie in front of the entire school at the pep rally before the big game, you got a bad vibe from it.
The sound of Tucker’s foot kicking Hazel’s eye echoed ferociously in your head.
It all happened so quickly, you could barely process seeing Hazel’s limp body on the ground. The sight made your stomach turn as you shot up from your seat in the bleachers to check up on Hazel. You glared in the direction of Tim and Jeff and that fucking psychopath Tucker— who you were pretty sure was a thirty year old man.
Everything had already been so tense in the group after PJ had humiliated Hazel in front of everyone. Finding out that PJ and Josie had started the group to get with Isabel and Brittany was an eye-opener to what their true intentions were.
This crossed the fucking line.
You were running over to her still frame, trailing right behind Isabel. You kneeled down next to her ribs, a bit of her blood getting on your jeans but you really couldn't care less.
“Hazel,” you whisper her name, wincing at the sight of her bleeding eye.
No response.
Panic settled in you as Stella and Brittany began to lift her body. Your eyes watered as you covered your mouth at her now blood-stained collared shirt.
“Is that true?” You heard Isabel ask PJ and Josie who had also come down from the bleachers as the staff and the rest of the students dispersed. Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. “That’s why you started this?”
You whipped your head to the two girls, eyes flaring with anger and hurt for Hazel.
Josie immediately began to protest.
“N-no, not entirely—“
“Not entire—Okay.” PJ cut her off loudly. “Listen guys. It doesn’t matter…the reason that we started this.”
You felt your skin itch with fury as you watched them drag Hazel’s body out of the gymnasium. You couldn't even listen to whatever bullshit excuse PJ had to say anymore. Sylvie began to walk away as did you and Isabel.
All you could focus on was if Hazel was okay.
The next few days, you didn’t leave Hazel’s side. You were at the hospital that same night at one in the morning with Mrs. Callahan in the waiting room and by her bedside when she came out of getting blood tests and prescribed medications. When the group would go over to her house and spend a few hours after school being attentive and showing support, you would stay the night tending to her wounds.
It was night three and the swelling had just begun to deflate, her eye revealing itself just a bit. Mrs. Callahan had been really understanding about you spending the nights as much as you knew you were intruding. She had pulled you aside after the second night to tell you how much she appreciated you and everyone else staying by her side.
Especially you — for a reason she didn’t disclose to.
You were crouched down next to Hazel’s bed, helping her with the eye drops that were prescribed by the doctor. Hazel was wearing one of her grandpa sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Splotches of red, purple and yellow covered her entire face.
“Hold on, Haze.” You leaned in a little closer to her face to focus on the little opening of her eye.
Hazel had been fidgeting the entire night and you had no idea what had made her this way. She muttered an apology before sucking in a deep breath. You were gently cupping the unswollen side to give you leverage.
You pretended not to notice her untouched eye flicker to your dry lips.
“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as you held the dropper right above the swollen skin.
You merely hummed in response as you were focused on her eye. Hazel waited until you put the instructed amount into the dry eye, making sure they all got in. You couldn’t risk her getting infection.
“Are you sure?” She pressed again.
You set the dropper down onto the tray full of doctor prescribed pills and remedies for her abrasions. Your brows furrowed as you held an expression of disbelief.
“Haze, I— why are you asking me if I’m okay when you got the shit beat out of you?” You emphasized, chuckling in disbelief.
“I know but—“
“Seriously. If it wasn’t for this fucking club, this wouldn’t have happened to you, Haze.” You expressed with more irritation laced in your tone.
You admit that you haven’t been getting the most sleep since the event; maybe three or four hours at best. Your mind was clouded with worry for Hazel’s well being.
What if Tucker gave her a concussion that would damage her brain forever? What if she went into a coma? What if she dies in her sleep?
Okay, and you also tended to overthink.
“Hey,” Hazel’s tone was gentle with a hint of stern attitude.
You hadn't realized that hot tears were leaving your tired eyes. You had been so busy taking care of Hazel that you hadn’t fully processed what had happened to her. Not a single tear had left your face until now.
“He could’ve really hurt you, Haze.” You whisper, raising your hand to wipe away the tears from your hot cheek.
Hazel remained silent as she knew deep down that Tucker could’ve done a lot more damage than she had received. She just didn't think that you cared this much about her; let alone cry for her pain. She noticed your chest rising and falling faster than she’s ever seen in her entire life. Your bottom lip quivered as you attempted to hold back the burning tears that were threatening to leave your eyes.
“I know but I’m doing okay. You’ve helped a lot, okay? More than I could ever ask for.” Hazel reached for your shaking hand, taking it gingerly into her grasp.
You nod, not trusting yourself to talk as your throat ached from how much you were resisting to let yourself cry. Hazel sat up slowly, her back aching and cracking from being inactive all day.
“Hazel, the doctor said to refrain from sitting upright.” You begin to scold her but she waves her hand at you.
“I’m okay. I-I’m fine.” Hazel shut her eyes, letting out a grunt as she adjusted her body so that she was leaning up against her bed frame.
You reach forward to push her falling strands out of her face, frowning at her wincing.
“Has PJ or Josie—“
“No.” You remark, refraining from rolling your eyes. You already knew where that question was going and still had a grudge against the two.
What hurt the most that you knew Hazel was going to forgive them; specifically PJ. You knew that they didn't hurt her directly but none of this would’ve ever happened if the club never existed. Then again, you never would’ve become friends without the club.
You would’ve still been just admiring her from afar as you passed through the halls.
“Why did you stay here?” Hazel hummed.
You suck in a deep breath as you continue the night routine as normal. You grabbed the tube of ointment and began to apply it to the slit on her high cheekbones.
“I didn't like the thought of you being alone during this.” You admit, hoping it didn't sound so smitten. “I am your friend, you know? I care about you.”
Hazel’s eyes followed the natural arch of your eyebrows and slope of your nose as you spoke. You knew you looked tired but it was truly the least of your worries.
“I know. Now, at least.” Hazel replied, her gaze finally locking on your lips.
“You didn't think I cared?” The dip between your brows depended on her confession.
“It’s nothing against you. I never really had good friends before. It’s nice to not have shitty friends for a change.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, fiddling with a loose string on her pants.
“You deserve good friends, Haze. You deserve so much.” You express, your voice keeps a gentle yet passionate volume.
The thought of Hazel getting mistreated all her life made your chest ache. Her eyes were darting all over your features as you pulled your hand away from her aching face.
“Well, thank you for all of this.” Hazel replied, not knowing how to take all of your kind words.
You breathe out: “Yeah, of course, Haze.”
You almost missed how she began to lean into your body. You cleared your throat as a tension fell over you guys. You stood up from the bed, brushing your messy hair out of your face.
“I’ll head to bed now. Goodnight, Hazel.” You nod, turning your back to her as you couldn't have her see you so bothered by the fact that she had leaned into you.
You didn't want to have high hopes but they were there. Way, way, up there. Fucking cloud nine up there.
But it wasn’t right. Not yet.
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The Huntington versus Rockridge game arrived faster than you could comprehend. You were wedged between Annie and Hazel, waiting patiently for the game to start.
Her eye swelling had completely gone down at that point to where she just had deep brushing all over her pale features. You were happy to see her darling blue eyes once again. Mrs. Callahan insisted that you two come to the game. You were reluctant but maybe it could be something better to do other than sulk around and be annoyed at Josie and PJ.
As the announcer began to cheer on the Vikings, you noticed Josie and PJ walking up the bleachers, stopping right in front of Hazel. Your eyes rolled as you waited to see what they were going to say.
“Okay, first off, PJ has something to say to Hazel, so…” Josie starts, panting through her words.
You stare at PJ along with Sylvie, Annie and Hazel. Her jaw drops, not knowing what to say exactly.
“The apology. Do the apology. Do the apology we said.” Josie muttered to her in a rushed tone.
“Okay! I’m sorry that I called your mom a skank.” PJ exclaimed.
When Hazel merely sighed and avoided her gaze, PJ continued. “And I’m sorry for saying that you have no friends really loud in front of all of your friends.”
Hazel looked down, glancing over at you as PJ could tell she still wasn’t satisfied with her apology.
“And I’m sorry for being an asshole a lot of the time.”
You and Annie give her ‘really?’ looks when she says a lot of the time.
“Most of the— All of the time!” She finalizes.
Josie hums in agreement with her best friend.
“And I do think that it's nice you always have notes and then you type them up and email them to everyone…” Hazel rolls her eyes with an attitude because she knows that they’re helpful. You’ve told her this a million times before. “And I really appreciate it.”
Hazel stares at her blankly for a moment, trying to process what she was going to say.
“Do you forgive me?”
Hazel’s smile creeps onto her lips as she nods with a soft ‘yes’. You send PJ a forced grin before paying attention to whatever Josie was talking about. Something about the Huntington players targeting a single player on the Rockridge team and how you all needed some sort of distraction to save the players.
“Oh, now you want a bomb?” Hazel smirks at the opportunity to blow shit up.
You would be lying to yourself if you said your bruised features didn't make her more attractive to you. You had followed Hazel and the group regardless of your feelings towards PJ as honestly, you didn't have anything better to do.
They still were your friends.
You and Hazel were crouched behind the tree across the yard as she had formulated some sort of bomb out of the blue. Where the hell did she even get this shit?
“Is it the red wire?” Hazel said out-loud, uncertainty laced in her voice. “Shit, or is it the yellow?”
You stare at her in shock.
“You don’t know?” You whisper-shouted at her.
“I-I get them mixed up. Fuck.” Hazel replied back in a panic.
Just then, you hear Annie shout from across the field that the game was about to start. Hazel glanced up at you as she hurriedly guessed which wires connected to one another and grabbed your hand in hers. You blushed as she tugged you along, sprinting across the field.
You did not wear the right bra for this.
The two of you jumped into the group's presence, your arm dripping over Hazel’s back as you all ducked from the expected explosion. After a few seconds of silence, you and Hazel looked up to the tree to see it was still intact.
“Hazel, it's not working.” Annie tapped her shoulder.
“Fuck. Fucking…” Hazel grabbed the remote, releasing your grasp to aim it at the explosive.
“Maybe try turning it on and off again?” You suggest as you stare at the metal antena.
Everyone was clamoring over Hazel to see what went wrong. You hear the crowd grow more and more in volume as the football team and cheerleaders begin to hip-thrust.
“Okay, Plan B, we get the cheerleaders to make out.” Annie stated as she got up and jogged over to the squad.
“What?” You ask in disbelief, trailing after her as did the rest of the group.
“Guys! Guys, kiss each other!” You shout over, making crude motions along with PJ, Annie and Sylvie.
Hazel had run up top to the bleachers, shouting at them to makeout from there. It was no use. Isabel and Brittany were still upset with PJ and Josie, ignoring their requests entirely. You groaned as you noticed the Huntington team begin to make their way onto the field.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered before you feel someone shove your shoulder.
It was PJ.
“Go and make out with Hazel.” She instructed, jerking her head up to the bleachers.
“Wha—“
“Just go! Hurry!” PJ was now full on pushing you now, staring at Hazel who had seemed to give up on the cheerleaders.
You run as fast as your legs can take you, calling her name from the distance. You’ve never made out with someone before and this is how it was going to happen?
Fuck it.
Hazel turned to you, asking: “What do we do?”
You grabbed the side of her head, pulling her into a messy kiss. Her hands gripped onto your biceps through your navy sweater, trying to go along with your jagged movements. You could hear Annie telling everyone to ‘look!’ as the slobbery mess became a sensual kiss.
You inhale as you feel Hazel take the reins, gripping your face to show you how to control your jaw. Her tongue ever so slightly grazed your bottom lip, humming at the feeling.
Was she always this good of a kisser? Who the hell has she been hooking up with?
The makeout turned into soft gentle kisses, your smile growing as you pulled her in closer.
“Oh, wait. I’m gay!” You hear Stella-Rebecca say as you pull away with a sigh from Hazel’s experienced lips.
Hazel tugs you back in with a grip on your face, seeming to completely forget about why you were even making out in the first place. Her cold rings dug into your cheeks making you crave more and more of her.
Me fucking too, Stella.
The announcer calls the attention back to the game that people came for, causing you and Hazel to pull away with a soft smack. Her hand was at your waist now, both of you staring at the field of players. You pull away, letting out a nervous chuckle as you begin to walk back down to the track field surrounding the football one.
Hazel followed behind you, seeming to be out of it as much as you were. You had not been listening to a goddamn word PJ was saying as you thought about Hazel’s hands on your face and her tongue in your mouth.
How can you move on from this?
“They kissed on the mouth,” Sylvie stated cheekily, pointing at your flushed figures. “With tongue.”
“Okay, yeah. It was for the good of the school so if anyone is asking, we’ll do it again.” You quip back, trying not to make it seem like a big deal when all you wanted to do was have her back on you again.
Josie turned to you guys, suddenly realizing what Sylvie had said. “When did this happen?”
“There were no other distractions! The bomb didn't work.” You protested.
“They’re gonna spray the field.” Annie muttered.
You would’ve missed it if she didn’t repeat it in a much panicked and louder tone.
“We’re gonna have to run.”
“Fuck, more?” You complained as you ran beside Hazel, the insides of your thighs burning from how fast you were sprinting.
You had kicked one of the players away from Jeff, a flood of adrenaline running through you. Fuck, that felt good.
Josie had taken Jeff into her grasp, tugging him up and off of the grass. PJ had her hands over the sprinkler, ready for the pineapple juice to spray everywhere. You stare across the field at the group of Huntington players, eyes widening in a panic. Stella, Isabel, and Brittany joined by the group's side, too, staring down the rivals.
Were you really going to beat the fuck out of the rival football team with the girl you’ve been crushing on and just made out with? To save Jeff nonetheless?
The main player in the middle removed his helmet, staring the group down. He began to scream at the group which resulted in the group screaming back. You saw a large man run up to you, swinging his leg to your chest.
You dodge the force and grab his calf, twisting it clockwise to hear a loud crunch before grabbing onto his helmet guard and throwing him off of you. You feel a blow to your back to see another yellow jersey player, his helmet in hand.
“Fucking asshole!” You scream before throwing a kick to his crotch and throwing a punch to the middle of his face, blooding seeping onto your knuckles.
You don’t know exactly how so much blood got on you. It had all been one huge blur up until you saw Hazel getting punched in the stomach.
You ran over with a shout as you swung a hard punch into his cheek to throw him off guard. Hazel ended it with a kick to the ribs and another punch to the jaw before he fell to the ground.
Your entire body was aching and Hazel looked so weirdly attractive covered in blood.
“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as gently as ever as she grabbed onto your wrist, leading you to the rest of the group.
“Yeah,” you pant, feeling a burning sensation run up your spine. Definitely not. “I’m okay.”
You had blood splattered all over your blue jeans, running up the sleeve of your sweater with a few dots here and there on your face. There was a collective silence when everyone realized how much damage they had done.
You slowly turn toward the crowd of peers and adults, eyes wide with shock on what had just happened. The sprinklers suddenly turned on and Tim shouted to turn them off once he realized it was pineapple juice.
He slowly began to clap for you and the rest of the girls as the half-dead, half-unconscious Huntington players lay all around you. You let out an awkward chuckle, grabbing onto Hazel’s blood-lathered arm as you lean into her touch. You waved at everyone, snuggling into her maroon-stained shirt.
“So, that was…” You turn to her, not knowing what the fuck to even say about what had just went down.
“We’ll process it tomorrow.” She shakes her head, blood-stained face and all.
“Right, yeah.” You nod mindlessly, slowly blinking at her.
“Did you like the kiss—“
“Are we together now?”
Your question threw Hazel off guard, letting out a soft chuckle as she nervously scratched the back of her neck.
“I mean, I don’t personally just make-out with anyone.” You push out a gust of air, staring into her radiating blue eyes.
“Me neither.” Hazel rushes out, a shy smile on her lips. “So… yeah?”
You nod, laughing out a ‘yeah.’ You look around at the football field now stained with red from the bodies.
“To think, all it took was fucking up some football players for us to get together.” You grin cheekily.
“Oh, I think some of them are actually dead.” Hazel stated as you threw your arms around her neck, more of the blood spreading onto your sleeves.
“Well, the red makes your eyes pop. It’s kind of hot.” You half-joke which causes her to shake her head with a chuckle.
The forgotten tree then exploded, causing everyone to pause in their tracks. The excitement and cheers from the crowd came to a complete halt. You cover your mouth with one hand as the tree caught on fire. Hazel buries her head into your neck, groaning at her failed bomb attempt.
Hazel was right; you’ll process this tomorrow
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taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33
753 notes · View notes
kushnovice · 2 months
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Spinning My World
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader
Synopsis: Reader tends to the avengers wounds constantly and when Tony opens an emotional wound in the reader, Bucky is there to help.
wc: 2.4k
Warnings: my first bucky fic, medical, wounds, tending to wounds, sibling rivalry, mention of dead parents, fluffy love, slow-burn
AN: Female reader, fluffy, lots of mistakes, self indulgent (Pictures are not mine nor are any characters part of this)
What makes the earth go round? to most people it's money, to others it's family. To me, it's love.
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I grew up with Tony Stark, my older brother. He was never that big on affection which was something he picked up from our parents and because of that, Tony and I aren't as close as we once were before our parents died. I spend most of my time making sure the house is always put together and cooking food for Tony and Pepper. I always feel a little guilty as I haven't achieved as much as my older brother and living with him and all of his fancy things just rubs it in. I also spend a lot of time studying. Since we have the money, I am attending an Ivy League school online. Unlike Tony, I don't like robots and technology, I prefer to help people. I am majoring in Medical Science as well as minoring in Psychology, which the amount of work is unbearable.
I sigh as I close one of my textbooks, my notebook, and my laptop, leaving them on the desk in my room. I make my through the long winding halls and into the kitchen, the tiles on the floor leaving my feet cold as I walk. I flick on the light as I walk in and take a deep breath, finally feeling at peace. The kitchen was always my safe space since Tony never cooked for himself, neither did any of the avengers. It was my own tiny world of peace.
I smile softly to myself as I make my way to the sink, I start to wash my hands while humming a song. "Friday, can you play (song name)?" As the song starts playing, I feel more comfortable as I start pulling what I would need from the fridge and the cabinets. I then fill up a pot of water and put it on the stove to boil and preheat the oven before I start separating and seasoning the chicken. I then start to cut up some veggies before checking on the pasta that I am making. After everything is cooking, I take the time to dance in the kitchen, just enjoying the music and how it flows through my body. That was until I heard the door open. I jerk my head to see who it is, only to be stunned by the sight in front of me. There he was, the most beautiful creature this world had ever created, but he was drenched in blood. Without thinking, I walk right up to him and start to examine him from what I can see. "Oh buck, what happened this time?" I ask as I eye him up and down for injuries, feeling better after not finding any serious ones. Bucky sighed deeply, "The mission was hijacked. I'm not the only Injured one." I sigh deeply as I take the food out of the oven and put the veggies and sauce into the pasta. Then, without a second thought, i make my way to the medical clinic, which I pretty much run.
I put my coat on and wash my hands again before putting on gloves. I make my way into the emergency room that we have to see Tony laying on a gurney. I immediately start to cut his shirt and pants off as I examine his body, the deep wounds showing no mercy as they continue to bleed. I sterilize the wound and start stitching him up and taking my time to make sure it's perfect.
After a few hours, I was done with making sure Tony was alright and had checked out all of the other team members. I look at the clock and sigh deeply when I realize that it is close to 1 in the morning. I make my way through the winding hallways again and I stand outside of Buckys room. "Hey Buck, are you awake?" I ask softly knowing his super human hearing can pick up my voice, and sure enough because the door unlocks and slides open revealing that he had just got out of the shower. I blush slightly as i try not to stare at his bare chest, "oh um...sorry I was just coming to give you a quick check up..." I shuffle awkwardly at his door but he nods softly and lets me in his room.
The smell of Axe Body spray and Midsummers Night circle the room. I sit Bucky down as I start to stitch up a few of his wounds. It stays mostly silent, neither of us knowing what to talk about until Bucky speaks up, "aren't you tired?" I furrow my eyebrows, "why would I be tired?" Bucky sighs deeply, "we go on these missions almost daily and you're the only one who gives us medical help, isn't it tiring?" I look up from his stitches to smile softly at Bucky, "No, it's not tiring. If anything, it gives me a purpose and makes me a hero like you guys." I giggle to myself at how corny that sounded before going back to stich bucky up.
After I am done, I make sure I didn't miss any dry blood before I stand up, "make sure you eat dinner, I don't know if the others did yet but you need to eat." I smile at him to which he gives me a small smile at the end of his lips. "I did eat already, it was delicious." I smile at him as I watch him put his shirt back on, "good good, I tried a new recipe today so I'm glad it is good." I smile to myself thinking about how Bucky enjoyed my food. "Did you eat yet?" Bucky asks with a furrowed eyebrow and I'm left shocked, normally i'm the one asking that question. "I was about too, then all of that happened," I smile at Bucky but his facial expressions don't change this time. "You really should eat." I nod my head and start to make my way into the kitchen to see a huge mess of plates and bowls and forks all over the place and all of the food gone. "at least they liked it" I smile to myself as I shrug off my coat and take off my gloves, "Friday, some music please" I speak as I start to pick up the plates and bowls and utensil's and place them in the sink. I then pick up all the trash and wipe down the counter while dancing around the kitchen. I spend a few hours cleaning, until it is spotless before I turn off the music and realize I wasn't alone. As I go to grab my coat and turn off the light, I hear a voice, "Aren't you going to eat?" I whip my head around, looking for where the voice came from until I can see Bucky, just outside the door. "there was no more left, i'm glad everyone enjoyed it." I smile at him but he doesn't smile back, he makes his way into the kitchen and starts grabbing stuff. "woah woah woah what are you doing?" I ask as I watch him start up the stove. "You need to eat. More than any of us." Buckys voice is stern and emotionless but I can tell that he cares. "I'm alright, I'll be up in a few hours to cook breakfast anyways." I look at the time and then at Bucky who then turns to me with furrowed eyes again his eyes studying me and trying to figure me out as he looks me up and down. "Why do you cook for everyone? Why do you go out of your way for everyone? I don't get how that benefits you." I sigh deeply, "I don't do it for me, I do it for you guys. You guys are heros and are saving the world every day. the least I can do is cook you guys a warm meal and make sure you guys don't get too hurt." "But why?" Bucky asks as he cracks open an egg and starts to cook it. "You guys deserve it, you deserve the best." I smile at him softly, watching his movements while I think. "Why do you save the world?" I ask while watching his movements. He seems relaxed and calm "Because if I can help save the world then there's hope to save myself." He speaks in a quiet whisper, "why do you save us? why are you so interested in medicine?" He asks with seriousness, trying to understand me better. "I was never taught self defense so I save the world in the only way I know, medicine." Bucky turns to look at me, "you don't give yourself enough credit, no one does." I can hear how he sighs softly. I let myself smile, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Bucky finished cooking the food and he made two plates, setting one in front of me while he sat across the table from me. He immediately downs his food within seconds leaving me to take awhile to finish my food. When I'm finished eating, I grab our plates and put them in the dishwasher. When i make my way back into the dining room, Bucky is watching me as soon as I enter the room. "What? Is there food on my face?" I jokingly ask, with a smirk on my face as I make my way back to sit down. Bucky snorts softly at my comment, "No, I just don't get how someone could look so pretty after working for so many hours." Buckys voice is soft but his eyes are full of emotion as his hands fold on the table. I feel myself melt under his gaze as my cheeks start to burn, "Oh, uhm...thanks..." I giggle lightly, "You aren't too bad looking for someone who just got stitched up." I reply causing bucky to be taken aback.
"Why are you two up at 2 in the morning?" Tony asks as he walks into the dining room in his black robe that is barely covering his bare chest and his blazers. Tony somehow still has his shades on as well as his slippers on as he sets down some coffee and a sandwich at the table and sits down. "I was just making sure your sister ate after giving everyone medical exams." Bucky replied as he stared blankly at tony as he ate. "Interesting." Tony replied quickly as he started to eat. "I'm glad that your mission didn't go to badly, not many people were injured." I smiled at Tony as I recall the injuries that everyone had got. Tony sighed as he swallowed the food in his mouth, "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?" I roll my eyes at how immature Tony still is after all of these years. "Somebody's cranky." I snort to myself, Tony glares daggers at me. "Somebody needs to shut up." I smile at Tony, now enjoying fucking with him. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel." I smirk at Tony, thinking I got the better up. "Frankly, I don't care. Just like how he never cared about Mom and Dad. You know who killed them right?" Tony asks as he glares between Bucky and I. "If you're insinuating that Bucky killed our parents then fuck you!" I yell in Tony's face, not able to control my anger as I get up and storm off. Bucky looks at Tony as Tony finishes his sandwich, not purposefully glaring but staring deeply at him causing Tony to get uncomfortable and scramble out of the room.
Bucky sighs deeply as he makes his way to my room, thinking of the right words to say as he ends up right outside of my door. "Hey...I know Tony's words really hurt but I'd like to tell you my story, not what you've heard from files but my life the way I lived it, when I had control of my life." Bucky expected no response honestly, who would want to talk to their parents murderer? Surprisingly the door swung open as Bucky looked in at my small trembling figure on the floor, a pang in his heart caused him to lose his breath seeing her in such pain.
I lift my head to meet Buckys soft eyes as he moves to sit on the bed next to me. His voice was kind but also firm as he told me all about his life, from his time in Brooklyn with Steve all the way through Hydra, he spoke about my parents last almost as if to save me the pain. "Your parents...they were a mission I had to carry out while apart of Hydra, or else I would have died as well as them...I wish I never had too..." Bucky sighs deeply as he looks at the ground. "You don't have to be my friend or even be nice to me, but I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt anyone." Bucky softly got up, expecting to be kicked out before he felt my hands wrapped around his human arm. "I want to be your friend. It hurts knowing that you did that to my parents and I don't think that hurt will ever go away, but I do know that it wasn't you, that you didn't do it on your own will. I forgive you, Buck." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around Bucky's human hand, taking his warmth from him as it comforts my shaking body as I am able to relax into my bed and into Bucky, feeling safe and comfortable for once. I don't remember what happened after that other than my eyes forcing themselves closed as Bucky's mechanical arm softly strokes my hair.
I wake up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes causing me to instantly rub my eyes. I stretch with a small groan, wishing to be asleep still as I reach my arms above my head. I hear a rough chuckle beside me and open my eyes to see Bucky smirking down at me, "Morning, Doll." I feel my face go red at the nickname. I roll over to face him in the bed, "I'm sorry that I kept you here all night." I apologize softly as I yawn the sleepy feeling away. He smiled softly down at me, the golden sun reflecting off of his eyes making it look like tigers eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He used his fingers to swoop the stray strands of hair out of my face. "It was the best sleep I have gotten in awhile." He confessed as he pulled me a little closer, his body heat keeping me warm as he smiled down at me cheekily. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy..." I giggle at him softly as I place my hand on his face before leaning in. Bucky closed the gap as he took my lips in his, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in closer as he chuckles into the kiss.
"How else would I make your world spin?"
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hugshughes · 2 months
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
𝐓𝐖𝐎 - 𝐓𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝! 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝.
𝐰𝐜 - 𝟐𝐤 𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐡𝐡 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 - 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐢𝐭!
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩! 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐭𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐦 𝐛𝐪𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐡𝐡𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑!!! 𝐈𝐌 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐆𝐆𝐆𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒! 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐎𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑!!! 𝐟𝐲𝐢! 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭!
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @alwaysclassyeagle
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real life! january 15th, 2024. 11:49pm EST
"Everyone's gonna hate it."
"Will you shut the fuck up please?"
You gigged, throwing your head back. You were in your living room of your New York house, surrounded in a group of friends and family. Your brother and sister-in-law had even come out all the way from Seattle. You sat crisscrossed on the rug, your phone bussing relentlessly against your thigh. The album dropped in 11 minutes.
You stood from your spot on the rug, sliding across the hardwoods in your socks to the kitchen. You opened your fridge and pulled out the bottles of champagne, alcoholic and not, you'd picked for the album drop.
You heard your name called from behind you, turning around and seeing your big brother.
"Oh hey!"
"Hey. It's stupid and sappy but I just wanted to tell you I'm really proud of you for this. So impressed that my little sister is way more popular and talented than me."
You giggled, your heart warming.
"Thank you, seriously. And you could probably be a famous tiktoker or something, just drop my name and immediately you get a million views!"
He rolled his eyes, barking out a laugh, coming around the counter. He grabbed the four bottles from the counter and left to go back to the living room. You quickly grabbed enough glasses for the group, carefully juggling them all in your hands as you walk back to the living room.
Released songs of yours were playing from the surround sound system in the living room, a countdown clock on the TV. There was just over 5 minutes left until everyone had your album.
Your friends sung along as Cruel Summer ended. You smiled at the amount of love filling the room. The smile that graced your face faltered when you heard the opening of The Cut That Always Bleeds. It was one of your most famous songs, but still hurt to hear, even more so to sing.
'cause if you're gonna leave, better leave, better do it fast. can't live a little longer sitting on your lap.
Your best friend stiffened upon hearing the lyrics, turning to find you by the door. She gave you a distressed look, mouthing, 'wanna turn it?' to you. You shook your head, giving her a forced smile. It was your song anyway, you couldn't hide from it.
You shook off the feeling the song gave you, setting all of the champagne glasses down.
"Okay, five minutes left! Um, I just want to thank you guys for coming! You guys are my favorite people and my biggest supporters. So yeah, thanks!"
Your friends all made noises of agreements, your sister-in-law hugging you.
"I know this song hurts you, girl. But shit, are your vocals something else on it."
You giggled, grinning widely at her. She was one of your favorite people in the world. You'd known her since you were 15, and she and your brother were both 19.
"I love you. Oh wait, I have a secret to tell you!"
Her eyes widened, nodding eagerly at you.
"Tell me now!"
You leaned closer, whispering into her ear.
"Deluxe version of Persuasion drops February 1st."
She pulled away from you, jaw dropping.
"You're joking! Are you serious? Oh my gosh!"
You giggled, nodding repeatedly at her. She was the second person other than your recording/producing crew and your agent who knew. Only your best friend, who now sat across the room giving you a smirk, also knew.
Someone shouted '90 seconds!' from across the living room, causing your skin to prick with goosebumps. Shit, were you nervous. Cruel Summer began when there were roughly 45 seconds left until the drop, making you feel better.
You watched as the timer ran down, an uncertain feeling running through you. Sure, you were so excited to be releasing new music. But, some of the song were personal, some were about Mat.
Your living room erupted as the clock hit midnight, your best friend jumping to grab the TV remote, opening the Apple Music app and searching for Persuasion. Your friends hugged you, cheering as your brother handed you a champagne bottle to pop open. You messily poured tall glasses over your coffee table as you heard Happier Than Ever start playing from the TV.
No one except for you, your manager, and your producers had heard Persuasion all the way through. Even your best friend had only heard a few of the tracks. She made it so the lyrics were on the TV, and your friends watched intently as the song played.
You stared at the TV, downing your second glass of champagne when you caught pitiful glances when you heard 'You clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable.' Everyone in the room knew the details of your relationship with Mat, clearly.
Your best friend's smile widened at Happier Than Ever ended, knowing her favorite of the few she'd heard was next. All-American Bitch. She stood from her place on your couch, sauntering over to you. She pulled you up from your spot, beckoning all your friends up to the carpet. When the base drops, they all start dancing around, jumping up and down. They look uncoordinated and silly, but it's sweet all the same. You give up your cool girl front and sing along, dancing with no cares.
You all danced and sang as the album kept playing. By the time Teenage Dream came on, you laid on the couch with your head in your drunk best friend's lap. It was nearing 1am as you walked your friends out to Ubers.
You sat on your couch alone after sending your brother and sister-in-law to bed in the guest room. The album was now only quietly playing on loop from the TV, Memories echoing through the first floor. You shut off the TV, grabbing your phone for the first time in a little while. You saw texts from many of your friends, family, and a couple from your manager. She congratulated you and said to call her in the morning. She had only sent it a few minutes before so you quickly texted back, asking if she wanted to call tonight.
Your phone started ringing, and you quickly swiped to answer.
"Hi!"
"Hi love! The album is already going off! There's so much love for it! And I wanted to let you know that we let Ellie stay up to listen and she loved it."
Ellie was your managers 7 year old daughter, and one of your favorite people.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so glad, I'll have to talk to her about it soon. And yeah, I mean I just picked up my phone for the first time since before the drop and wow, I'm like completely blowing up."
"Because this album is to die for!"
You giggled, your manager's British accent always made you smile.
"Oh right! The reason I need to call you. So, I know this is a lot, and I know you might not want to and that's completely fine."
She paused, your eyebrows scrunched. Huh?
"But, I just had some people reach out earlier tonight and the NHL has invited you to be one of the celebrity coaches for the NHL All-Star Series."
Holy shit. What? The NHL wanted you?
"Seriously? Holy fuck."
"I know, I know. Obviously Mathew will be there but I think it would be a bad bitch move personally. You'd be on Team Hughes is what they told me, and you'd perform during halftime at one of the games."
"Okay, that's so crazy. Wow, um-"
Your manager cut you off before anything else could leave your mouth.
"Oh, also! Can't believe I forgot, but, Tate is also doing it! The celebrities get announced in a couple days. The 20th I believe, and your invitation was pretty last minute because whomever was set up to be there before had to drop it. I understand if you don't want to, but it'd be good for the album, and your brand."
You were unsure, but the voice in your head was screaming fuck Mathew Barzal and you decided to agree with it.
"You know what, yeah! This'll be fun, I mean I still love hockey. I didn't let him ruin it for me. And if Tate's going that makes two singers with less famous NHL exes as celebrity captains."
"Yes! Awesome, I knew you'd want to. I'll confirm with them in the morning. I love you! Persuasion is amazing and beautiful. Goodnight sweetheart."
You told her you loved her and goodnight before hanging up. Holy shit, you were seriously doing this.
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Liked by NHL, and 75,826 others
yourusername Persuasion is out now! I cannot believe the immense support the album has already recieved! Thank you all so so much, you are my everythings. Hopefully Persuasion can comfort the lonely and help explain me! I love you all, more to come soon ⭐️🤍🫂
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26 minutes ago
taylorswift I'M OBSESSED
tatemcrae MY BABY SO TALENTEDDDDD
user1 what is the NHL doing here?
haileybeiber Mamaaa❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
yourusername added to their story!
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155 notes · View notes
castiwls · 3 months
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anti-hero - d.w
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Paring; Dean x gn!reader
Synopsis; Dean's nightmares have become a nightly occurrence
Warnings; none
Notes; i think this might be one of my all time favorite songs ever! Also praying we get rep tv announcement tonight!! (also requests are open )
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"i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving ‘cause you got tired of my scheming
Nightmares were a common occurrence for Dean Winchester. Every time he closed his eyes it was as if a collection of his worst moments replayed in his head for his own viewing pleasure. 
Dean had almost completely forgotten what it was like to dream, his nightmares seemed to have chased them away. Even the alcohol no longer kept his personal demons at bay. 
Most nights he found himself waking in cold sweats, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. Today was no exception. Dean let out a quiet gasp as his eyes shot open his hands subconsciously reaching for the weapon under his pillow. Just as he closed his hand around the knife he felt something touch his chest
“Dean.” You blinked slowly at him from your spot in the bed. You wiped at your eyes before using your arm to prop up your head. “You ok?” Your face twisted in slight concern as he lay quietly beside you. “Dean.” You said placing a hand on his arm. “Talk to me. Please.”
Dean slowly turned his head towards you. He didn’t say anything as he gently took your hand in his and squeezed it. “I’m okay.” He whispered. You frowned and let out a quiet sigh. “Alright.” You lay back down. You knew he wasn't going to talk. It was rare Dean ever did tell you about his ‘dreams’.
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“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” You seethed as you held a cloth over the wound on Dean's leg. He simply scoffed before looking away. “Do you have any idea how stupid that plan was? You ran into a nest of vamps alone! Why didn’t you wait for Sam.” You reached over for a wipe and began to clean the cut as well as you could.
The wound ran down the majority of his leg and seemed deep enough for stitches much to your annoyance. “Are you even gonna say anything?” You stooped momentarily looking up at him from your spot on the floor. “Dean?” Your tone softened as you took notice of his far-off look.
Ever since the other night he’d been acting weird. Dean had taken to quietly staring at walls and drinking himself into a coma at night. You’d also noticed his behaviour change. He was more reckless
Satisfied that the cut was clean and no longer bleeding you took a spot on the bed next to him. “Whats wrong?” 
Dean kept his gaze on the wall infront of him. He took a shaky breath before moving to grab your hand. He squeezed it for a moment before looking down. “You deserve more then this. Then me.” He ran his free hand through his hair before finally looking up to catch your gaze. “I mean whens the last time you had a whole nights sleep, huh?” 
You shook your head. “Dean. I don’t care about your nightmares ok. I care when you close up on me like this and when you go and be reckless.” His thumb began to gently rub your hand as you spoke. “I’m frustrated 'cause I don't like seeing you destroy yourself. Talk to me. Talk to Sam. Hell, I don't care who you talk to just talk to someone please."
He nodded. “You don’t have to deal with these nightmares alone.” You finished.
You sent him a soft smile before wrapping your arms around him. You knew he wouldn’t open up immediately, but as long as he agreed to try, that was all you cared about.
“I’m not going anywhere ok.” Dean tightened his hold on you before pressing a kiss to your head. He wasn’t ready to talk yet but knowing you would stay was enough.
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aurumacadicus · 3 months
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"Miss Widow, I need you to be my partner in crime," Peter said, dropping from the ceiling. He waited for a beat, expecting a rolling of eyes or an exasperated sigh. When he received nothing but a raised eyebrow, he hesitantly asked, "Aren't you going to correct me, or..."
"It's good that you have some fear of me, Peter," Natasha told him simply. "Has the crime already occurred? If you want a body buried, ask Bruce."
"...Hmm," Peter hummed, deciding he wasn't going to unpack all that. "Mr. Hawkeye said that you're the resident matchmaker."
Natasha sat up straighter. "Oh?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.
Peter thrust his phone at her. "I have video evidence of Captain America being totally gone on Mr. Stark."
"Explain," Natasha said, clipped, even as she opened up his phone.
Peter did not ask how she knew his nine-digit code. Instead, he dutifully recounted, "So Mr. Stark decided we should swap playlists, ostensibly so I could listen to 'good music' but I think he wanted to see what the kids are into. I get some of my songs from TikTok and I think one of them is a bit of an ear-worm for him."
Natasha thumbed open his gallery and went directly to his last video, taking only a moment to turn the volume up. In it, she saw Tony in the common kitchen, fixing himself up a cup of coffee. He was swaying slightly like he did when he was humming. Steve was sipping a protein shake at the table, as if he was not glancing at Tony every other shift back-and-forth.
"I, wish I could synthesize, the picture perfect guy," Tony suddenly mumbled out loud, in that way he did when he had no idea his brain-to-mouth filter had stopped working. "Six, feet tall, and super strong--"
Steve perked up, sitting straight from where he'd been leaning on table.
"--We'd always get along--"
Steve flopped back onto the wood surface and took a morose sip from his protein shake.
Natasha felt her mouth drop open in shock as she watched Tony, oblivious, go back to humming and turn to leave the room. Despite Steve's obvious disappointment, it didn't stop him from tipping in his seat to be able to see Tony's ass properly.
"I'm going to kill him," Natasha decided.
"That's not the crime I wanted to be partners for," Peter cut in.
Natasha lifted her gaze to him, scowling. "He will express his feelings for Tony or die."
"...Hmm, " Peter hummed again. If he remembered correctly, both Sam and Bucky had said that Natasha expressed her affection to the people she cared about with cheesy jokes and threats to their lives. Steve would be fine, probably. "He didn't even sing the best part," he sighed instead.
Natasha slanted another sharp look toward him. "Oh yeah?"
"'He'd pick me up at eight, and not a minute later, 'cause I don't like to wait,'" Peter recited. "'Kind, and ain't afraid to cry, or treat his mama right. That's right, that's what I like.' Which, like, Captain America would rather bleed out than cry, but he doesn't sound constipated when he tells other people it's okay. Also I wish he would be less punctual," he added mulishly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Aunt May keeps raising her eyebrows at me when he shows up to pick me up for training and I'm not ready."
Natasha bit back the urge to howl in rage. Of course Tony would get a song basically about Steve stuck in his head and not notice. Of course he wouldn't notice Steve panting after him like a dog. They were both stupid. That's why she was there, though, she supposed. "I will do the actual crimes," she told Peter firmly. "And you will keep your mouth shut."
"There will be actual crime!?" Peter yelped.
Natasha ignored him, instead returning to his phone and scrolling for more blackmail on Steve. He was the weakest link in this chain of idiocy. "Keep that up, Mr. Man."
"Oh boy," Peter sighed, shoulders sagging. There was some regret in his tone.
Good. It would solidify that modicum of fear he should keep about her.
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sage-green-matcha · 10 months
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NO TIME TO DIE - JACK CHAMPION 🌬️
Grammy and Brits winner Y/n Y/l/n meets with Jack Champion for a night full of flirting and awards ;)
Content Includes: flirting, singing, awards show, idk you just being famous and successful 💅
A/n: gonna be gone for a day or two so here’s a longer oneshot for y’all!! <33
<3
<3
<3
“You ready?” You shook uncomfortably in your black dress, the material heavy as you dragged it around. “I’m scared, this is the fucking Oscar’s what if I trip over the dress?” You frowned, a blush brush now on your face. “You look great, you’re gonna do fine” You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were gonna suck. You couldn’t believe that you were here. Sure you’d been to the Grammys and the Brits but the Oscars? Never in a million years did you imagine that you’d be here.
You were nominated for best original song and you also had a small role in handing out awards. That you weren’t nervous for, but performing in front of hundreds of amazing actors, that scared the shit out of you. You were one of the youngest nominees here, besides Jack Champion. Who you might’ve developed a small crush on during the event practice.
“I’m scared, I’m gonna vomit” You felt sick, nervous, all of the above. “Take a deep breath, warm up your voice. You’ll be fine, you always do amazing” You furrowed your eyebrows, singing a random melody as you waited at the side of the stage. The curtain was closed, it was only till the song started that you had to be faced with the hundreds of faces of popular actors, and a balcony full of fans.
“Okay, it’s go time” You looked at the orchestra as you walked across the stage, sitting down on a stool that they had for you. Your team followed, fixing your hair and applying more gloss to your lips to make sure you’d look amazing. Your stomach bubbled with anxiety, fixing your earpiece as someone handed you the mic.
“James Bond films are an indelible part of our cinematic history. Legendary Franchise has produced six Oscar-nominated songs including the title track from our film “No Time to Die” The curtain was drawn open, eyes luckily not on you. It was dark, a small smile coming from your pianists, giving you a sense of security.
“With this exquisite and haunting piece, our next performer has captured the feeling of this film in ways that could only be expressed by music. Please welcome the phenomenal artists and songwriter who co-wrote it, Y/n Y/L/n”
The crowd applauded and you took a deep breath, instructions being given to you through your earpiece. “Okay….and start the music” You felt a shiver run down your spine as the piano started up, blue and white lights surrounding the stage. You kept your eyes closed, taking a breath before you started to sing.
“I should’ve known, I’d leave alone. Just goes to show, that the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe”
You had been instructed to cut to the bridge, eyes still closed in fear of ruining your performance with anxiety.
“Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else? That if fallen for a lie” you took a stable breath, the lyrics falling flawlessly from your lips.
“You were never on my side. Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise? Now you’ll never see me cry, there’s just no time to die” the orchestra started behind you, opening your eyes to be met with the crowd.
“I let it burn, you’re no longer my concern”
Your voice was filled with emotion, melodically beautiful. The orchestra fit with your voice so well, lights and screen visuals tying the whole performance in.
“Faces from my past return, another lesson yet, to learn” You stood from the stool, giving yourself space to sing. The room had gone dark, all fear washing away from you. You felt the lyrics in you, this is exactly what you imagined it would look like when you were writing it.
Darkness, piano, lights, violin. It was cool to finally be in the place that inspired you. “That id fallen for a lie, you were never on my side” Your voice was airy, loud, and full of emotion. Your hand was placed on your chest as you continued to sing, your eyes trying to spot out faces in the crowd.
“Now you’ll never see me cry, there’s just no time to die” The music got louder, building up to climax. You brought the microphone higher up, your voice filling in the melody with the orchestra. “No time to die, mhm” You took the deepest breath, vocalizing along with your hand to your chest. Feeling the music in your heart.
You brought the mic to your lips, pulling it away as you hit a note. You cheered in your brain, you actually managed to pull it off. The musicians behind you got louder, your voice did too. After seconds of instruments filling your ears you got to the last line, giving your voice a break from the song.
“There’s just no time to die” You smiled at the audience, applauses filling your ears with cheers coming from all sides of the theater. You gave a thumbs up to your pianists, turning around to clap at the beautiful orchestra that performed along with you.
“We did it, oh my god we did it” you squealed as you exited the stage. You felt yourself fill with pride, trying your best not to get emotional. “Uhm I just performed at the Oscars? And I literally did so well?” You laughed, running over to your manager. “See? I told you, you did so well” You pouted your lips, noticing her wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, come on this is supposed to be exciting”
You dragged the dress back to your green room, smiling at the other performers who were up next. “God, I’m shaking” you grinned. “I was shaking bro! I swear your voice was just like ugh, so fucking good” You smiled, taking the compliment.
You had a bit of free time before you had to preset awards, your manager taking you to the red carpet. “Hey! Y/n…uhm I really enjoyed your performance, you looked beautiful” Jack Champion, your heart paused as you looked up at him, the tall boy smiling at you. “Oh, thank you!” “Of course, you sound really good…like really good” he scratched the back of his neck, nodding.
“Congratulations on your nomination by the way, good luck” You met his eyes as the line moved forward, almost close to getting on the carpet. “Yea! Yea, thanks, I heard you were nominated too, but that performance just won like all the awards” You smiled at his awkwardness. “I don’t know, the other songs are just so amazing” you laughed.
“If you don’t win, people are gonna riot” you blushed, thanking him once again. “You’re all red Y/n, come on you’re next” You went through the carpet, showing off your custom designer-made dress. It was something you had been envisioning for months. Bunched up black silk with a corset bodice, lace gloves with a diamond necklace.
“So who are we here with today?” You stood in front of the camera with a smile. “I’m Y/n y/l/n, how are you?” “I’m doing so good! I mean I just watched your performance and I think this is the best I’ve ever been in my life” You laughed at the compliment, more blush filling your face.
You answered a couple more questions before getting more pictures taken, the photographers screaming your name. “Y/n! Get one with Jack!” You looked over at him and he smiled, walking over to hug your side. You felt your heart beating in your chest, his hand staying on your waist as you walked down the line.
“So sweet of you to walk me down the carpet” you teased. “Just trying to impress you” You smiled and he let go of your waist. “I’ll see you around” he waved before his team dragged him backstage. “Y/n..focus” your manager smiled. “I am focused!”
You walked around for the rest of the night, getting drinks and saying hello to the other nominees. You sat back in your assigned seat, drink in hand before smiling at your stylist. “You ate with this dress, I really can’t I’ve been getting compliments all night” You rested your head on her shoulder with a smile. “You know I try my best, but seriously it was all you. You do really look beautiful Y/n…and I think Jack thinks so too” She nudged you under the table, your focus now on jacks table. He was with his mom and manager, smiling over at you.
“He’s so cute I might die” you exaggerated. “He’s into you, girl I think you’ll be going home with a new man tonight!” You covered your smile, taking a drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.
A couple more awards passed and it was your turn to give them out. You were accompanied by Zoë Kravitz, one of your lifelong idols.
You got on stage, hugging her before the segment started. “I’m Zoë Kravitz” “And I'm Y/n Y/l/n, and we are honored to be announcing the award for best actor of the year!” Zoë read out the nominees, the red envelope in your hand waiting to be opened.
“And the Oscar goes to...” You opened the red envelope with a small mischievous smile. “Jack Champion” the camera cut to the smiley boy, hugging his mom before going up on stage. “This is the first Oscar and nomination for the amazing Jack champion” you added, Jack coming up the stairs with a smile. “Congratulations” You pulled him into a hug, his face red as you handed him the award.
“Well uhm, wow. I just wanted to say thank you. To the fans, to my family. This is something really huge!” He laughed, your heart happy for him. “Thank you to James Cameron, Dileep Rao, and Dr . Max Patel. Thank you to all my co-stars, you guys are all so, so amazing” he held up the award proudly, stepping off stage as you handed out the next three awards.
“Hey! Congratulations! I knew you could do it” You came up to his table during the intermission. “Thank you” he got up, hugging you with a smile. “You raised a good kid Mrs. Champion” Your manager came up behind you, complimenting and congratulating him and his mom.
“Yea, thanks, Good luck with your award, I’m sure you’re gonna win” you blushed. Thanking him again before you walked back to your table, cameras rolling once again.
You felt your heart beating faster, the camera on you for your reaction. “Next we have the award for best original song, and our nominees are..” you smiled up at the screen, your competitors on the large tv. You felt your heart race, you knew you’d be fine if you didn’t win. But yet again winning would be really fucking cool.
“And the Oscar goes to..” you swore you felt your heart stop for a second. The sound of the envelope opening making your heart race. Zoë laughed before reading out the name, “Y/n y/l/n” Your heart dropped, face covering your hands as your stylist and manager jumped to hug you.
You walked up the steps, carefully to not step on your dress. “Uhm…oh my god?” You couldn’t hide your smile, award in hand. “Okay uhm…well, I wanna say thank you! To my stylist, my manager. My amazing co-actors and team. I love you guys so much, I’d be a mess without you all. I also Wanna Thank my family who sadly couldn’t be here. But I wanna thank them for their support! Also thank you to Hans Zimmer, Stephan Lipson for helping me produce this amazing track, this award is for you! And lastly thank you to the recording academy for this beautiful opportunity” You smiled once again, waving the award before walking back to the table.
“What the fuck?” “I told you that you’d win!” They hugged you tightly, the award carefully placed on the table. It was so much more than just an award to you. So much time and effort went into the track, and the final product was so satisfying.
“I’m so tired, I might die” You plopped down on the couch of your green room, taking off your tall, black heels. “Ready for the after-party look?” She pulled it out from the rack, it was similar to the dress you had on, just less extravagant. It had the same beautiful bodice, bodice, with the same slit just more toned down. It was more of a lacy material, a shawl made of the same thin black fabric. “I’m wearing my sneakers with this I don’t care” you laughed.
You got changed into the dress, surprisingly the sneakers didn’t look too bad with it. “Looking beautiful as always, now let’s head out before we get stuck in traffic” As you exited the green room everyone was already leaving. You spotted Jack through the crowd, his tall figure standing out against everyone else.
“Hey! You going to the after party?” “I’m not sure yet! Are you?” You nodded, adjusting your shawl. “Yea okay, I’ll be there” you smiled at him. “where are you gonna put yours?” You asked, matching Oscars in hand. “I think I’m gonna build a thrown just for it” “Seriously?” You laughed. “Yea! I’ll put it up on a pedestal, it’ll look great” You just smiled as he took your hand, your friends following behind the two of you.
Photographers lined up along the exit of the theater. You got into your car before you waved at Jack. “I’ll see you later?” He nodded, letting go of your hand. You watched as your two managers exchanged something, yours getting into the car. “He’s got you so whipped you forgot to get his number. Here you go” She handed you the small slip of paper.
“You looked beautiful tonight, congratulations <3 Can’t wait to see you soon!!! Here’s my number - Yours, Jack :)”
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How to be a mum
pairing: reader x the grid (platonically), hinted Pierre Gasly x reader                              
warnings: swearing, assault (someone is punched in the face), description of injuries/bruises, throwing up, passing out, unconsciousness, mentioning of hospital, mentioning of crash
summary: Being the only female driver on the grid basically makes you everyone’s mum - and that with just in your mid-twenties.
notes: feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! Another part will follow, so let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
disclaimer: English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊
word count: 4.1k
Your parents had raised you to be a good, kind, caring and helpful person. Where you could, you helped other people out. On top of that, you were basically illiterate to the word no, it was almost impossible for you to tell other people no. No matter the time or the troubles it cost you, you were always there for others. Essentially, that meant little time to yourself, which you didn’t mind most of the time. You loved helping people, and it made you happy.
So, when you were promoted to Formula One, you almost immediately become the mom of the grid. All the drivers, despite some considerably older than you, needed help or supervision. It was like a crazy playhouse and sometimes you felt like you were the only sane and responsible person. It was a menace, someone always needed something. But then again, you loved to help, and you collectively adopted all of them. Metaphorical, of course. But the last weeks were a lot, maybe too much, and you were exhausted. The different time zones had taken their toll on you.
However, when your friends ask you to join for a night out, you agree. It is the Thursday before the race weekend, and Charles, Pierre, Carlos, and you went out to grab some dinner. Mexico is warm and full of life and buzzing, and you had spent an hour looking on the internet for the perfect place to go.
When you arrive there, you are happy to have Carlos with you, as he speaks Spanish. You sit down, you talk, life is good, and you enjoy spending time with your friends. Until suddenly, Charles whinges – he had cut himself God knows how. “Let me see!”, you demand and he shows you the cut on his finger. It isn’t very deep, but it is bleeding a lot. You get your purse, rummage in it for a minute, and pull out a band aid. “You are full of wonders!”, Carlos chuckles while you wrap up Charles finger. “All done!”, you say and plant a gentle kiss on the band aid. Charles blushes and you laugh. “I am sorry, my mum always used to do it to me, so it is a force of habit!”
After dinner, you all enter the car. Charles makes you sit in the passenger seat, even though you would have preferred to sit in the backseat and close your eyes for a bit. But Charles insists, arguing that you give directions the best. So, of course you stay awake and make sure that all of you will arrive safely in the hotel. Before Charles pulls out of the parking lot, you turn around. “Any music wishes you gu-“, you are about to ask, when you realize something. “Put you goddamn seatbelt on, Pierre!”, you scold the guy in the back seat. “Yes mum!”, Pierre jokes, but puts his seatbelt on. Carlos and Pierre request some songs, and the way back is actually quite fun as well.
When you arrive, you say your goodnights and then you are finally on your way to up to your room. You want nothing more than sleep and are already laying in bed in an oversized shirt and short pants when someone knocks on your door. You get up and look through the peephole. In front of your door is Mick and he looks miserable. So, you open the door - of course you do. “I don’t have a seat for next season, they screwed me over!”, Mick says, his voice is breaking. You let him in and end up spending of your night consoling the younger driver. You hold him, let cry, gently play with his hair until he falls asleep. You fall asleep not long after him, holding the blond boy in your arms.
Micks alarm rings painfully early. He blushes and apologizes when he realizes that he fell asleep in your arms, but you wave it off. Once he left, you shower and get ready for your breakfast date with Pierre. Pierre and you had become closer in the last months, and sometimes spending time with Pierre was the only time where you could properly relax. “Good morning!”, you greet the Frenchman, and he engulfs you in a hug. “Are you okay, you look tired.” “Yeah, sure, I am okay!”, you assure him. You enjoy the breakfast; Pierre makes you laugh a lot. Afterwards, the two of you get ready and drive to the track together for Friday testing. You carry a huge bag out of the room and Pierre just laughs before he takes it for you.
The testing goes well, all in all. The car is good this season, you might even land on the podium this weekend. But then again, you are happy when everyone crosses the line safely. And you are always happy when your friends are on the podium, maybe even happier than if you stand there yourself. Sometimes you wonder how you made it this far – while you were competitive and scored good results, you were not as fierce in your ways as most of the other drivers. Still, you managed just fine, and many people saw great potential in you.
After the testing, you hug your teammate, Lando. “You seem to really have gotten the hang on the car, I am proud of you!” He smiles at you. “Thank you, y/n!” You glance down at your phone. „By the way, I think you should get going. You have an interview in 15 minutes!“ He nods. „Oh yeah, thank you for reminding me!” You wave it off. “No problem, and now go! I will see you later!” You rush the boy out of the garage, then you are on your merry way to look for Checo. The man had invited you to stay with his family for dinner and for the night and since you adored his children, you had happily agreed. You carry the bag, that is full of presents for his kids, and a thank you present for Checo and Carola.
“Checo!”, you call out to the older driver. He lights up when he sees you. “Hola, corazon!” Most of the drivers call you nicknames because you are that close with them. Checo for example is like an older brother to you. He pulls you into a hug. “Ready to go?”, he asks you. “Give me one minute, I need to say hi to Max, otherwise he is offended again!”, you laugh and walk deeper into the Red Bull Garage. “Verstappen!”, you yell and like a demon summoned he appears immediately. “Y/n!”, he exclaims, smiling widely. You hated that everyone always painted Max to be an asshole while he really was a ray of sunshine if you were able to gain his trust and friendship. You greet him with a kiss on the cheek and talk to him briefly before you leave together with Checo.
Carola already stands in the door when you arrive, and you practically sprint out of the car to engulf her in a tight hug. “Hola!”, she says laughing and motions for you to come inside. You excitedly bubble to her before you spot the three little kids and you heart becomes even fuller. They almost attack you with love, you speak to them in the few Spanish sentences you know, giving out presents. When they run off to play with the new toys, you turn to Checo and Carola and hand them their presents. “You are too kind, y/n”, says Carola and the three of you hug again.
After dinner, you help bringing the kids to bed, tucking them in, trying your best to read the Spanish children’s books, which results in giggles from all sides. When the kids are asleep, Checo, Carola and you sit up with a glass of wine. You get to bed not too late, and the next morning you and Checo drive to the circuit together.
It’s a beautiful day, the sun is warm on your face and life is buzzing around the paddock. The moment you exit the car, you are swarmed by fans. You sign their stuff, take some pictures, answer questions. You can hear the cameras click. Even though you had been in Formula One for two years now, you were somehow still more often than not the star of the show. Often it was praise, sometimes it was stupid comments, sometimes gossip. By now, the media had attached an alleged affair to you paired with any driver. It was quite fun actually, sometimes you and your friends teased the media. Going out for dinner with Charles on Monday, Lunch with Daniel on Tuesday, going for a walk on Wednesday with Lewis, partying on Thursday with Max, having a late breakfast in the sun on Friday with Lando. Acting like you just got caught. It was the funniest shit in the world to you.
Qualifying went good for you, for Lando as well. You had gotten everything out of the car, and that makes you content. When you drive into the paddock, you are happy and bubbly, spreading good mood. That is, until you look at the little screen in the garage and spot Esteban crashing into the wall. “Oh god, is he okay?”, you breath out before you rush to the medical quarters. The medics tell you that he has to go to the hospital to be checked out thoroughly.
„I will go with him!”, you say without hesitation. Since none of his family was there, you offer to go to the hospital with him, no questions asked. On the ride there, you hold his hand and whisper words of encouragement to him. When you arrive, he is taken by the doctors, and you have to wait. As soon as the doctors tell you that he is and will be okay, you call his family to tell them the good news. When you can go in the room with him, Esteban looks a lot better. You pull him in a gentle hug and make sure that he arrives by his hotel room safe and sound.
By now it’s the middle of the night and you sigh. In a few hours Yuki and you will meet in the gym because he has asked you to show him some meditation and yoga tricks that would help with his mindset. You promised to show him before the race so that he could use it right on track. You decide to sleep the three hours you would get and go to your room.
You wake up feeling completely exhausted. On top of that you had overslept, so you decide to skip breakfast and just head straight down to meet Yuki. It is quite fun, and you feel a bit refreshed. However, by the time you arrive at the track, you find yourself in a low. You are very well aware that you possibly shouldn’t participate in the car, your lack of sleep endangering you and the others. You go to your driver’s room, splash water in your face and then you meet up with your personal trainer. Somehow, you find whatever concentration is left in you, and channel all of it. When going over one last reflex training and everything goes well, you are feeling a bit better about participating. And you are right. You even score in the points, which makes you happy.
After the race, you are scheduled for an interview. Arriving a bit early, it is not your turn yet. Charles is still being interviewed. You watch Charles doing his interview, and for once it seems like you are graced with one minute of peace. Until you suddenly hear someone yelling. “Charles!” “What is that?”, Charles asks and looks just as confused as you. You find the source of the scream before he does. Daniel stands on the balustrade of a roof close by, shouting and waving. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Be careful, for fucks sake!”, you scream up to him, before you are on your merry way to drag him down there with your bare hands, if you have to.
You manage to get him to step down after a few more shenanigans. You rush down again, arriving just on time for your interview. It is actually a respectful interview for once, the interviewer showing genuine interests for your driving and not for anything else. Somehow, despite your tiredness, you are the best version of you, joking with the interviewer.
After the interview, the debrief happens, and then you head straight to the hotel. Your flight was going tonight because you want nothing more than a few quite days and nights in your own apartment. Pierre had offered to drive you to airport, which you gladly accepted. When you get out of the car, Pierre exists as well and pulls you in a hug. “Get some rest, Cherie, you look tired!”, he tells you and you grin crookedly. “You don’t even know, Gasly!” The two of you hug, and then you are on your way back home.
When you step into your apartment, you almost start to cry. You are so relieved, and you look so much forward to just sleep. You will only spend three days before you have to leave for the next race again, but you full on intent to spend most of that time in bed sleeping and relaxing. You order some take-out food and head to bed right after. Everything is good, until your phone wakes you up in the middle of the nights. It is around four in the morning, and you groan. Max´s name shows up on the screen. You wonder how the fuck he managed to get back to Monaco as quickly as you. You pick up, of course you do.
“Heyyy!”, slurs Max and you know what he wants before he can say something. “Where are you?”, you ask, already half out of bed, “I will come and get you!” You arrive at the club half an hour later, a bottle of water and a bucket with you. You get out of your car, and look for Max. You find him in an alley next to the club, surrounded by two guys. Speeding up, you step in front of Max the moment before one of the guys throw a punch at him. Instead of Max, the fist hits your face, and you almost fall over. You shake your head, and stare down the guy who profoundly starts to apologize to you. You scoff. “I suggest that if you don’t want me to call the cops on you, you get the fuck out of here!”, you threaten, and they leave immediately.
You sling Max arm over your shoulder and manoeuvre the drunk man to your car. He is slumped over, his body weight seems to have doubled, and your face is throbbing. He doesn’t seem to realize what just happens, and instead throws up on your shoes. You have to take them off and drive home with just your socks. Somehow, you manage to get him all the way to his apartment, where you make sure that he drinks some water. He falls asleep as soon as he hits the pillow and starts to snore. You prepare him breakfast, place water and painkillers on his nightstand, and make your way back home – still in socks. When you arrive home, you text him about the breakfast. Your face still aches, and when you look into the mirror, a big purple bruise is already forming, and the skin around your eye is turning darker by the minute. You groan – it would be a pain to cover that up.
You get back to bed, but you cannot really sleep. Your head is killing you, so you get dressed, put a hoodie on and big sunglasses. Luckily, no one sees you in the streets, and you arrive at the doctor’s office without any incidents. The doctor knows you - ever since you lived in Monaco, you came here. He examines your face and tells you that most likely you have a mild concussion, which explains the headaches. He tells you to rest a bit, and if you do that, racing wouldn’t be problem next weekend. You thank him, pick up some of the recommended painkillers, some make-up to hide the bruise and then you go back to your apartment.
You have two more hours of sleep, before your phone rings again. Daniel asks if you want to go and have breakfast with him because him and his girlfriend are having troubles and he needs someone to talk to. You assure him that you can be at his place in latest an hour. You get up, jump under the shower and afterwards you manage to cover up the mark. On the way to his place to pick up some groceries for the breakfast. Half an hour later, Daniel lets you in his apartment and you talk for what feels like five hours. You barely eat for breakfast, the headache and a nauseous feeling overwhelming you. Daniel doesn’t realize, he is just happy you are here, and you are more than happy to help.
This evening, you don’t get to bed as early as you had wished, because you talked with your family and your best friend. You firmly tell yourself, that you would sleep most of the day tomorrow before you would head to the next race. However, your plans are crossed, when Charles calls and asks if you can help him buy a present for his girlfriend. Of course, you accept and spend most of the day out with Charles, visiting different shops and boutiques. When you get home, you pack your bags and go to bed, because you have to get up early to leave for Brazil. You were already not looking forward to the time difference, not knowing if your body could take it.
Lando, Charles, Pierre, Daniel, Max, and you had decided to take the plane together. It was usually more fun than flying alone, but this time you wouldn’t have minded. A bit of peace and quietness would have been nice. However, when you see the boys on the airport, you are happy. They are your friends after all, and you loved them dearly.
“I am hungry!”, Lando whines almost as soon as you board the plane. He sits on the opposite side of you. You knew that this was going to happen. You open your bag pack and whip out 6 neatly packed lunch packages. “I gotcha!”, you tell him and throw him one of the packages. It contains two sandwiches, some cut vegetables and some small snacks. You know all their diet plans, so every package was a bit different. You had gotten up extra early that morning to make sure all of them had something, knowing that they would possibly forget to prepare something.
Lando thanks you profoundly, and you just smile at him. You loved the boys, even though it wasn’t always easy with them. You are still wearing your sunglasses, because the bruise around your eye had become even darker, and your unprofessional attend at make-up didn’t cover it properly anymore. You are not ready to show the boys, because you don’t want them to worry, and you don’t want Max to feel guilty. He had texted you that he remembered parts of the night, and that he remembered how you stepped in front of him. You had assured him that you were fine. Lost in your thoughts, you drift to sleep, your sunglasses still on.
You are awoken barely 30 minutes later by loud music. You almost jump out of the seats, the boys laughing. “Very funny”, you murmur, but have to smile a bit. It could’ve, maybe should’ve annoyed you, but you were not one to hold grudges. “Why are you still wearing your sunglasses, mon ange?”, Pierre teases you and you shrug your shoulders. “Because it looks cool!”, you argue half-heartedly. Before you can react, Pierre pulls them off your head and gasps in the same motion. You try to cover your face with your hands, but it is too late. Pierre´s reaction has drawn all attention on you. “Jesus, what happened to you, y/n?”, Pierre asks, all teasing has left his tone. “Nothing”, you are quick to lie. “Didn’t look like nothing!”, he sounds a bit angry, and you sigh. You remove your hand from your face and show him and the others.
“Oh my God!”, breathes Max out, “So something happened after all?” You sigh again. “Nothing bad, it is just a bruise and a blackeye!” Daniel shakes his head. “You should have told us!” “I know!”, you defend yourself, letting your shoulders hang, “I just didn’t want you guys to worry!” In this moment the guys realize that maybe sometimes they need to take better care of you as well. However, the scope of your state is not yet fully obvious to them.
After you told them the story, Max apologises again, and again, but you wave it off. “Max, I would do that again any day, you are like a brother to me”, you give him a warm smile and hug him. He looks like he feels a bit better, your head on the other hand is killing you. You excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you throw up once. You brush your teeth, put some water in your face and tell yourself to get your shit together. When you return, you sit down again. Pierre sits down next to you, opens up his arms and you gladly accept. Daniel puts a blanket on you, and you sleep the rest of the flight in Pierre’s arms.
You wake up feeling a tiny, tiny bit better. The weekend goes by. You again sleep too little - one of the boys always needing something that you were happy to help with. The devil works hard, but you really worked harder. Qualifying went better than ever and you wondered if you maybe should always need to drive sleep deprived. On Sunday, you almost fall asleep in the meeting before the race, and you know you should probably just cancel the game. But you sit down in the car anyway and start to race.
“P1, I repeat, P1! Y/n, you did it! Your first win!”, screams one of your team members over the radio. You whoop and pump your fist in the air. “Can I do donuts, please?”, you beg, and everyone laughs. You do a couple, and then you drive to your garage, where everyone jumps in your arms, and you cry tears of joy. “Yes, yes, yes!!”, you yell over and over again. On your way to the podium everyone congratulates you, as there is not a single soul on the grid that dislikes you. You had even managed to woo Christian Horner with your kind nature.
When you step on the podium, Max and Charles are there, and you spray each other with champagne. At the end, they lift you on their shoulders, and the fans are going ballistic. You take another sip of the champagne and realise that this might have been a mistake. You feel terrible dizzy all of a sudden when you step down from the podium. Downstairs, Lewis and Seb wait for you. They are about the only guys on the grid that don’t need your help, and act like your parents, rather than the other way around. “Good job kid!”, says Seb and pulls you in a tight hug. Lewis ruffles your hair and grins. “You deserve that win, now go celebrate!” You nod and start your walk to the McLaren paddock. The cameras follow you; you smile and wave for them and for the fans.
At the paddock, all of your friends wait for you. While you are excited and want to get to them as soon as possible, your legs feel incredible heavy and wobbly at the same time. You reach Pierre, who lifts you up and spins you around, which is really not good for you. When he sets you on the ground again, you grab his arms and have to hold onto him. You feel like the ground below you is an ocean, and among the waves you cannot plant your feet there properly. You look up at Pierre. “Pierre”, you whisper, “I think I am about to pass out.” With that, you slump down in his arms. He tries his best to hold you up, slinging his arms around you, keeping you safe and warm. As soon as the others realize, something is wrong, a wall of people is built around you and miraculously, the media misses the fact that you are unconscious in Pierre Gasly´s arms. At least for now.
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