Frenemies To Lovers - Tumblr Posts

💗 oldie but a goldie 💗

that transition from annoyed acquaintances to endearing quality time is just the best kind of transitional love. The, ‘i’m growing soft for you’ archetype 😩💗

how to be a heartbreaker ✔️

summary: the arrangement is simple: don’t catch feelings. neither one of you is worried, after all: you have feelings for someone else, and he’s eric sohn, the campus player and least likely person to ever get attached… right?

pairing: eric sohn x fem!reader

parts: preview / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight / twenty-nine / thirty / thirty-one / thirty-two / thirty-three / thirty-four / thirty-five / thirty-six / thirty-seven / thirty-eight / thirty-nine / forty / forty-one / epilogue

playlist: the hills the weeknd • just friends morgan saint • sex (catching feelings) eden • middle of the night monsta x • something right felix sandman • just friends keshi • i like u niki • come over trey songz • sexual neiked • side effects carlie hanson • just friends audrey mika (full playlist here)

cyberpunk-hitman vibes 👌🏻

min yoongi is the best shot in the business. you’re the best gunsmith in the city and the only person he trusts to programme his tech; to make his gear. 

he likes your work. it’s a shame, then, that he doesn’t like you.

pairing: yoongi x f!reader / word count: 14.3k / genre + rating: NSFW (18+), cyberpunk!au, smut, frenemies (?) to lovers

warnings/etc: hitman!yoongi. black market dealer/gunsmith!reader. cursing/explicit language. whole lotta tension, sexual and otherwise. mentions of injury/violence. minor character death (no one important, don’t worry, this isn’t an angst fic). brief hurt/comfort. reader has tattoos. sexually explicit content. oral; fingering; multiple orgasms; overstimulation (f). unprotected sex (please take the necessary precautions irl). rough sex?. choking. creampie. brief mention of aftercare. I think that’s everything but please lmk if I missed any!

a/n: thank you SO MUCH to both @hobi-gif​ and @morndas​ for beta reading this and being so supportive, ily both so much and I owe you my life 🤧💕 as always what was meant to be a short fic turned into a huge one. also this is technically for my 1.1k milestone but it’s a billion years late, oops!​

Yoongi really doesn’t like you.

You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You needle him all the time, dig your fingernails in and squeeze, revelling in the way he sets his jaw, the muted spark of irritation in his eyes. You bat your eyelashes and tilt your head, throw it back whenever you laugh and reveal the easing column of your throat, dragging each interaction out with a kind of sadistic pleasure that has him gritting his teeth. Because you love annoying him, getting under his skin, tapping your fingers against the soft swell of your bottom lip as you eye him up, taking your time before you speak.

Infuriating. You’re infuriating and you know it.

It’s unfortunate, really, because you’re unavoidable. 

Jungkook had asked, once, why Yoongi doesn’t just go elsewhere. They’re more than familiar with the underbelly of this heaving city, underneath all the neon lights and shimmering holograms and towering skyscrapers and legal tech; the scuttling seams of back alley traders and illegal goods, tech or otherwise. There are plenty of black market dealers, after all, plenty of other vendors he could go to to get the equipment he wants. Plenty of other skilled crafters, artificers, artisans, people who would be more than happy to create the things that Yoongi asks for, that he needs. People who can get their hands on anything you want. For a price.

Yoongi’s answer had been short and succinct.

“She’s the best there is,” he’d said, and that had been that.

Keep reading

🐺💗🐰

a full circle story, they meet at uni and continue life together facing life challenges together 🥺💗

*skip the smut if that makes you uncomfortable, because the drabbles delve into their family-dynamics 🙌🏼

Run Little Rabbit Masterpost

; Wolf shifter!Hoseok x Rabbit shifter!Reader

; Genre: Angst, smut, fluff

; Synopsis: Jung Hoseok - the Alpha wolf of his pack and far out of your league. As a rabbit shifter who still jumps around predators, you fantasise about your dangerous crush from a safe distance, particularly as he doesn’t like you. But what happens when he goes into heat and you’re the only one he’ll accept?

-

Main Series:

Run Little Rabbit

Daddy’s Little Peanut (no smut)

Big Bad Wolf

-

Drabbles

Choices

Concerns

A Wish Fulfilled

Grief

love me a good hogwarts au 🪄

Hogwarts requests Masterlist

Characters: BTS x reader

Synopsis: You guys asked and you shall receive! A series of drabbles based off requests sent in a LONG time ago for various members in a Hogwarts au!

Notes: Part one of my farewell! 5 requests about Harry Potter, posted on this very Masterlist! Updates weekly

Links:

1. True love’s kiss - Ravenclaw!Jungkook x reader featuring Gryffindor!Taehyung and Hufflepuff!Jimin

2. A helping hand - Headboy!Namjoon x reader. 

3. Shadows Lurking - Gryffindor!Jin x Slytherin!reader

4. The Sun burns too - Slytherin!Jhope x Hufflepuff!Reader

5. A lost correspondence - Professor!Yoongi x Professor!Reader

DMs during a cruise is always the best🤭

MY RIDE OR DIE – l.hc

pairing: brother’s best friend!haechan x f!reader

genre: brother’s best friend au, neighbors au, one-sided enemies to lovers, fluff

warnings: gentleman haechan, best brother jaemin, swearing, some flirting/teasing, mentions of renjun, one mention of mark and jeno, there’s probably more but idk

wc: 5.5k

a/n: for my favorite kylie replica and yy stalker @yyx2 *insert pleading eyes emoji* ily lots u evil little monster that u are <3

synopsis: hyuck is your brother’s best friend since your family moved next to his house when you were little kids. however, as much as your brother wants you to get along with his friends, you just can’t seem to stand his closest friend, the oh so confident and popular haechan. but when you get stood up on a date with no money left and rain pouring from the sky, haechan seems to be the only option left.

your brother has always been very protective of you. his big-brother act started in middle school when one of his classmates pushed you to the floor as you were watching jaemin score. he immediately let go of the soccer ball and ran towards you, his victory long forgotten. you still remember clearly how the mean boy fell to the ground after your brother landed his first ever punch. you had never been prouder of having him as your older brother, even if he looked ridiculous washing the dishes as punishment. 

over the years, jaemin grew even more protective, only trusting his friends around you and scaring all the boys away. most of the time, it would end with you scolding him for doing so, your brother trying to defend himself and your mother calling you for dinner to stop your guys’ bickering. when you look back at it, you know you can never stay mad at jaemin for too long. 

when he first introduced you to his friend group, you were nervous. obviously, meeting a bunch of tall teens is intimidating. but as they made lots of efforts to include you and be as nice as possible to you, you soon felt at ease around them. 

well, not around all of them.

hyuck, also known around school as haechan, has been your brother’s best friend since your family moved in next to his when you were little kids. the two of them immediately bonded and soon became the little troublemakers of the neighborhood, with haechan leading the way. 

it’s been more than ten years but the two are still as inseparable as before. only difference is that your brother has given you a permanent spot, turning the duo into a trio to accommodate you.

you wished that you and haechan could get along, you really did. but it’s just impossible, and you have given up on trying to explain as to why to your brother. how can you ever appreciate someone, that in your eyes, is someone so self-indulgent and self-centered that you could throw up from the thought only? 

you know that it upsets jaemin, knowing that his little sister, the most important person in his life, and his best friend, the second most important person, don’t get along. you feel bad, that’s for sure, but faking liking haechan is not going to work. 

you wonder how other people do it. do they see haechan in a different light? in a different way than you do? 

even if you have explained numerous times to jaemin why you aren’t fond of haechan at all, he just doesn’t seem to want to accept it. you understand him, you would be confused too if you were him. because haechan is actually loved by many, may it be classmates or neighbors. 

people seem to love haechan and it infuriates you. not because he doesn’t deserve it but because you wished you liked him too. 

maybe that’s why you’ve decided to make some effort, to try and get to know him better in an attempt to befriend him. you really wished life was simpler. 

hating haechan hasn’t always been easy. you yourself hated it. 

the hatred you hold for him started a few years back after middle school. high school arrived and haechan grew a lot. the latter changed his hair and even his style. you never knew why he did it but suddenly your brother followed, buying the same brand of shoes as his best friend. in less than a few weeks after the summer holidays, jaemin and his friend group were named the cool kids. lucky you for being the little sister of one of the members. 

it felt weird. the sudden change made you feel uneasy. that was probably why you never bothered to even think nicely of haechan, because in your eyes, he had changed your brother.

it wasn’t even long before you realized that even though jaemin had physically changed, he was still your brother, the one who teased you for hours on about a bad grade but comforted you when he went a little too far and made you tear up. you realize now how stupid it is to hate someone for something that wasn’t even their fault. 

but you were a stubborn child and thus, continued to hate haechan. 

highschool was difficult for you. you had a hard time making friends and when you did, many of them let you go when they realized you wouldn’t be helpful in getting closer to your brother. what’s more, people didn’t like you for not liking haechan. 

they never really tried to understand you or hear you out. you’ve lost many friends because of this. 

but surprisingly, haechan never let you go or walked away. he always stayed, even if your death stares made him uncomfortable. you know you should thank him for that but your pride never lets you do so. 

if you were really honest, you had hoped haechan had given up. because not only is the boy nice to you despite knowing of your hatred towards him, he also tries to make you like him. 

he was the one who held your hand minutes before you had to take a huge exam, he was the one who rushed to your side when you broke your leg at volleyball practice and your brother was in class but most importantly, he’s the one your brother trusts the most in taking care of you when he’s not around. 

upon entering university, you had asked your brother for a bit more space and freedom. you loved him to death but you knew that if he continued treating you like a child, you would never be able to become more independent. 

so, even if he didn’t like it, he agreed with a forced smile. 

jaemin had kept his promise and for the first time since you were born, you were able to accept someone’s date request. you shared a few classes with the boy in question and were pretty excited that he had asked you out. 

jaemin was pretty relieved to see you walking around the house with a smile and sparkly eyes, giggling in excitement.

when the day of your rendez-vous finally arrived, jaemin dropped you off at the diner your date had requested to meet before speeding off to an important class of his. the diner, which had a lovely atmosphere to it, was almost empty. it was in the middle of the day so most people were busy with school or work, unlike you who had a free afternoon that day. 

nervously, you glanced at your phone. you had agreed to meet at three pm and you were exactly two minutes early.

the first ten minutes, you kept looking at your phone in hopes to find a message of your date stating that he would be late but nothing. after another ten minutes, you decided to wait inside and order something to drink, looking around for a few seconds before sitting at one of the booths next to the window and close to the door. 

fifteen minutes passed and you finished your drink, the empty glass now sitting sadly on the table. it was a great drink by the way, worth the price. 

when the clock hits four pm, you had finally convinced yourself that your date wouldn’t show up. it hurt but it was the harsh truth. 

without losing another second, you called jaemin. 

and when he did finally pick up after the third ring, your shaky voice surprised him. 

“nana, can you please pick me up?” 

you almost never call jaemin by the nickname haechan gave him, but when you do, it’s either because you want something from him or there’s something wrong and he’s pretty sure that right now, it’s not the first option. 

you can hear him sigh through the phone and you imagine him rubbing his head and closing his eyes in frustration, already preparing yourself for what he has to say. 

“i am so sorry yn, but i can’t leave right now.” jaemin sounds so apologetic and guilt starts to creep up as you can make out a voice in the background that ushers jaemin to hurry up. before you can hang up, he speaks up again, “listen, don’t worry okay? i will call someone to pick you up, trust me.” 

you nod before realizing that he can’t see you, clearing your throat “thank you nana.” 

with a quick hum and goodbye, he hangs up and you slowly lower your phone, stuffing your hands in your pocket while you wait patiently in the cold. 

when you see a couple enter the dinner behind you, the two of them giggling and holding onto each other, you understand why you longed for love all these years. but as your eyes catches sight of the kids running out of the nearby school and your ears ring due to the bell, indicating that it’s four thirty pm, you also understand why your brother wasn’t fond of letting you go on a date with your classmate. 

you should have probably listened to his friend renjun’s warnings. renjun used to be part of the newspaper club in highschool and was known around multiple schools because of his connections. when your brother had invited his friends over not even two weeks ago, the younger man had mentioned your date’s habit of fooling girls when he was in highschool. you didn’t think it was still a habit of his. 

you groan in frustration, you should have really taken all his warnings seriously. 

deep down, you know that not even your brother could have changed your mind. you’re known to be stubborn and you wanted to prove him wrong, which inevitably didn’t work out now. 

looking at your feet tiredly, you let out a deep sigh, clearly done with today. you had preferred the guy being a total asshole during the date over being stood up, but it’s not like you can do anything against it. 

maybe you should have accepted jaemin’s proposal in setting you up with one of his friends. no, he would have tried to set you up with haechan. haechan this and haechan that –over the years, that’s the only thing you’ve heard jaemin say. like you said earlier, haechan is the person your brother trusts the most regarding you. 

which is exactly why haechan’s car is the one entering the restaurant’s parking lot and not any of jaemin’s other friends’.

you could recognize his car from miles away. it was his mom’s but when haechan graduated from highschool and finally got his driver’s license, she had proudly gifted him the keys to his now old but impeccable vehicule. if you said that haechan loved his car, that would be an understatement. 

it used to be an old crappy gray-colored thing but haechan restored it with all the money he got from his summer job during his first year of college. 

when he finally parked his precious baby in front of you, you wrapped your jacket tightly around your body. when you were about to open the door to the passenger’s seat, it inched open and haechan’s body was hunched over the console, arm stretched out to hold the door open for you. you hesitated upon seeing him this close and when he realized, he backed away, clearing his throat while one of his hands found the steering wheel.

‘step in.”

you opened the car door wider, holding onto it as to not slip due to the wet sidewalk. the warmth of haechan’s car finally hit you when you landed in your seat, the door falling close next to you. you sighed in delight, rubbing the palm of your hands against your bare thighs in an attempt to warm them up a bit. 

haechan looked at you, observing your wet hair and the way your lips trembled, body shivering. he turned around, stretching his arm out towards the backseat to retrieve a zip-up hoodie.  

he throws the clothing gently in your lap, pulling at one of its sleeves to cover the side of your left thigh more. he doesn’t spare you a glance and starts the car, the engine roaring. you look down at the hoodie in your lap, hands fiddling with the strings when you recognize the zip-up hoodie as the one you had gifted him for his 18th birthday on your mom’s request. 

it’s all worn out now. the colors have faded and you can barely make out the designs on the back and sleeves. hundred twenty bucks went into that hoodie but you faintly smile when you realize that haechan probably wore it a lot for it to be so beaten up. 

when you finally lift your head for the first time since haechan picked you up, your brows furrow at the sight of the dashboard. it used to be grey-colored, just like the outside of his car but now, it’s a black matte color, contradicting the beige leather seats in a fashionable way. you lean forward a bit, brushing your hand over the dashboard in front of you when haechan speaks up. 

“i changed it a few months ago. the grey just wasn't doing it anymore.” 

you nod, sitting back in your seat comfortably. the last time you had seen haechan’s car was when he dropped your brother off after a party last summer. the only thing you had told him when he helped you drag jaemin up to his room was that he should change the dashboard color, as it didn’t match with the new red exterior of his car. you could think he took your suggestion seriously. 

it was silent for most of the ride, the music from his spotify playlist making it slightly less awkward. you could see by the way his fingers tapped against the steering wheel that he wanted to say something but he kept his mouth shut, tongue wetting his dry lips. 

the rain only started pouring more and more, aggressively hitting the windshield. 

when one of your favorite songs came on, you hesitated a few seconds before reaching your hand out to increase the volume. you didn’t expect haechan to have the same idea as you.  

his hand bumped against yours and he quickly backed away as if the feeling of your skin against his had burned him. it stung a bit, that’s for sure, but you found it even sadder that he had to act like that because of your past behavior and actions. 

he opened his mouth to apologize but you interrupted him, “it’s okay. i’m sorry, i should have asked first.” 

he looked at you when you spoke before concentrating on the road in front of him, clearing his throat and nodding slowly. 

it was dead silent once again. why did the diner have to be so goddam far away. 

haechan clears his throat again and you remember he does that often when he’s nervous. he wipes his hand on his thigh, rubbing his palm on the soft material of his sweatpants. with a deep breath, you divert your eyes and focus on the road. haechan is wearing grey sweatpants for god’s sake.

he takes a turn left and suddenly lowers the volume of the radio, “so, is everything okay?”. you look him in the eyes quickly, surprised at his question. he can sense your confusion and continues, “i heard that you got stood up.” 

well, that surely was very direct. 

you don’t know why but your eyes fill with tears. you got stood up, that’s nothing new but someone else saying it hurts you much more than when you did. maybe it’s the fact that you had to wait alone for more than an hour, maybe it’s the fact that you were really excited for today or maybe it’s the way haechan says it, but it finally dawns on you. 

you got stood up. on your first ever date too!

you let out a loud whimper at the realization, covering your mouth with your hand as you burst into tears. you cry in front of someone who isn’t your mom or jaemin and the thought makes you feel even more pathetic as you sob louder than the rain. 

haechan is terrified. it’s not the first time a girl cried in front of him, he has a younger sister and he was and still is quite popular in school. but it is the first time he’s ever seen you cry. the saddest he’s ever seen you was when you had to stop playing volleyball due to your leg injury but even then you didn’t cry. 

he has absolutely no idea what he needs to do. he can’t call jaemin because the latter is busy with school and he doesn’t know how to comfort you without making you uncomfortable. his mom had always told him to be nice to you and do his best to take care of you with jaemin but never in a million years had she told him what he should do when your best friend's little sister is crying her eyes out in your car. 

with wide eyes and hurried movements he drives to the nearest parking lot. he turns his body towards you once he’s parked and he swears under his breath. his mom –and jaemin– would never forgive him if he just let you like this. he closes his eyes for a maximum of two seconds and he can already hear his mom –accompanied by his dear best friend– yell obscenities at him for leaving you like this. 

no way he can drop you off at home with teary and puffy eyes and a red nose from crying.

without thinking, haechan unbuckles his seatbelt and throws the door open, getting a free shower the moment he steps outside of his car. he rushes to your side of the car, almost slipping due to the slippery ground, before grabbing the door handle and throwing it open too. 

haechan wastes no time in taking your wrists in his hands, pulling you up and out of your seat. everything goes too fast for you to acknowledge what’s happening but you whine when the rain hits your uncovered arms. 

before you can even protest, haechan wraps his arms around you, shielding you the best he can from the cold rain. 

he holds you close to his chest, one hand on the back of your head so that your face is hidden in his sweater, cheek squished against his collarbone. his other hand is gripped on your top by your side, his arm wrapped tightly around your body. 

he shushes your cries and pats your head softly, his tight embrace calming you down slowly. you close your eyes and let yourself be comforted by haechan. he sways your bodies from side to side a bit, still holding you close to his body. 

he doesn’t say anything but the comfort he provides you shocks you. he doesn’t let go of you, even when your clothes get soaked and your hair is stuck to your forehead. 

you don’t know how long you two stand there in the rain but in the end you barely even register the raindrops hitting your skin. 

it’s haechan’s shivering body that pulls you out of your reverie, teeth clattering. after letting out a deep sigh, he lets go of you but his hands find their way on your shoulders. he squeezes them softly before hugging you one more time. 

when he pulls away, he leans down to be at your height, faces inches away from each other. his hand, however, doesn’t leave your arm, thumb rubbing circles on your skin, “i’m sorry. i should have been more considerate.” 

you put your hands up quickly, trying to wipe away the leftover tears, “no, no, it’s okay! i overreacted.” you try to smile a bit but it doesn’t look sincere so you opt for looking at the ground again, hands together behind your back. 

haechan’s eyebrows furrow, “what do you mean you overreacted? you have every right to be upset. he gave you hope and then stood you up like some typical american movie’s douchebag.” 

you snort at his comment, hand covering your mouth when you see haechan’s face. 

placing his hands on his hips, he suddenly asks, once again leaning forward. “what? why are you laughing?”

you giggle once more, “it’s just–” you can’t help but let out a laugh, head tilting forward and hitting his chest softly. haechan’s eyes soften at this. “it’s just that you look really angry right now. that’s all.”

you can sense haechan freezing up beneath you and you quickly lift your head off his chest, taking a step back to get out of his personal space. you don’t see it but haechan’s cheeks turn a bright red, the tip of his ears joining too. he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, the silence suddenly very awkward. 

haechan doesn’t really know why he got so pissed but he convinces himself that it’s because you’re his best friend’s little sister. and nobody can mess with jaemin’s loved ones. 

“hey, uhm should we, you know–” haechan points at the car and you eagerly nod. in an instant, he holds the car door open and you look at him. has he always been this pretty?

you shake your head to get rid of the thought and jump in your seat. haechan closes behind you and dashes to the other side before getting inside. he hurriedly increases the heater, fiddling with all the little buttons and controls on the dashboard. before you know it, warmth spreads through the car and you let your head fall back on the headrest. 

you can hear haechan shuffling next to you but don’t bother opening your eyes until he calls you name, handing you a small white towel. you take hold of it and dry your hair the best you can with it, glancing at haechan from time to time. he’s aggressively drying his hair, rubbing his towel over his whole head and swiping it across his neck. when he’s done, he puts the towel around his neck and turns to you. 

“you okay?”

you nod, mindlessly drying your hair when he suddenly leans forward. you try to protest but haechan is faster, grabbing the zip-up hoodie that is laying on the ground and at your feet, his face almost touching your knee. he again turns to you with the clothing in hand and drapes it over your thighs, covering your lap with it like before. 

he mutters a small “here you go” and settles back in his seat, leaving you dumbfounded. when you think you have finally gotten over his recent action and the shock that came along, you can see haechan removing his soaked hoodie from the corner of your eye. 

your eyes widen and you look away, closing your eyes shut and facing the window. when you open them slowly, you can see his half-shirtless reflection in the window as he’s putting his t-shirt back on correctly. 

when jaemin said he and haechan often went to the gym, he certainly didn’t lie. 

one hand on the steering and the other one laid out on the console in between you two, haechan begins to drive, getting closer to your home with each second that passes. 

when you finally arrive at your neighborhood and you can see your house from afar, you clap your hands together in exhilaration. haechan lets out a chuckle at that before he slows down, driving towards your two houses. 

“hey,” he taps the steering wheel with his fingers, biting his lip, “why didn’t you just go on a date with any of us?” 

you keep looking in front of you as you see your two houses getting bigger and bigger the closer you get. you don’t have to think about his question a lot, he rapidly figured that the main reason why you had accepted to go on a date today was to annoy jaemin. 

“because then nana would just continue treating me like a child.” haechan smiles at the nickname, content to hear you using something he invented.”plus, i don’t think any of you would have accepted going on a date with me.” 

haechan looks offended and you stare at him as he gasps in disbelief, “you really think that?”. you don’t answer him and he continues, “you really think nobody would accept to go on a date with you?” 

you cross your arms at his tone, “well, nobody has ever shown interest in me. i would have known if someone did.” you side-eye him, huffing in annoyance.

now, haechan looks even more offended and he begins to stutter, stumbling over his words.”that is not true.” he manages to say, insisting on the ‘not’, clearly showing his disapproval. “i know someone– this guy, who, uhm who would have liked to– to go on a date with you.”

you tilt your head to ask him who but he lifts his hands in the air, “i can’t– i can’t say. that would be like breaking the, uhm, the bro code, you know?”

you huff, holding his zip-up hoodie in your hands, “if none of you can tell me, then how could i have gone on a date with him?”. you get out of the car when you realize you have been parked in front of his house for the past five minutes. 

he gets out just after you, contourning the car and walking you to your house. “well, i’m– i’m sure the guy has shown– or tried to show his, uhm, interest in you.” his answer sounds more like a question and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle. 

with the way haechan is behaving –and looking at you–, you hope he’s the guy in question. 

when you step onto the driveaway of your house, you turn to him, his hoodie now hanging on your shoulders. “who do you think would suit me huh? mark? maybe renjun or jeno?” you can see the way haechan tries to divert his eyes from you, cheeks flushing a light red when the post lamp flickers above you.

you look up at him, smiling softly, “perhaps, you?”

that quickly catches his attention, “what?”

you grab his t-shirt, holding onto the fabric tightly, “hyuck,” you never used that nickname before and it greatly shocks haechan. “are you interested in me?”

haechan is speechless. he never thought those words would come out of your mouth, ever. he can barely register what is happening, uttering a small “what?”. it’s like he lost the majority of his vocabulary. 

you repeat the question and this time haechan manages to answer. “i think– i think you’re interesting, yeah?” 

you pat his chest, ”you know that is not what i meant, but it’s okay.” 

you don’t know how you still manage to keep your knees stable because you are literally trembling from the nerves. you’re fiddling with your fingers, looking at your shoes multiple times during the conversation. you glance at your house, making sure that he doesn’t see it. you’re around ten feet away from the door so you take a few steps back, haechan following you close behind. 

you’re suddenly shy when you notice how he is leaning over you, pretty eyes looking at you and waiting for you to speak up. 

you bring a thumb up and point at the door behind you, “i should get in.”

“yeah, you should.” his answer is simple and doesn’t add anything important to the conversation but his voice is so smooth that your mind goes blank. you probably look like a fool right now. 

when haechan notices your nervous stance, his confidence comes back and he smirks, hands stuffed in his pockets. you’re about to head in, fumbling with the keys a bit before you manage to find the right one and unlock the door, but haechan has another idea. he slowly and gently grabs your wrist when you’re in the doorway and pulls you back on the doorstep. 

he’s leaning against the wall next to you, arm pressed against the door and he’s unnecessarily close to you, not that you mind. he grins down at you, “didn’t you forget something?” he arches an eyebrow and his tongue comes out to wet his lower lip. “is that how you treat someone who helped you?” 

you blush, eyes widening in embarrassment. you quickly apologize and start thanking him for the ride but he stops you again. “is that all? we both know you can do better.” 

you gulp as his eyes bore into yours. with a sharp inhale, you nod. you don’t want to let him win, he’s never going to let that down if you do. 

so with all the courage left in you, you stand on your tip-toes and kiss his cheek, taking him by surprise. your lips hover over his skin for a moment before you pull away, not without whispering a last “thank you” right next to his ear. 

he certainly didn’t expect that. 

in less than ten seconds, you’ve waved him goodbye and entered your house, shutting the door behind you with a loud thud. 

you’re bold, haechan thinks. and that definitely doesn’t help his crush on you to fade away. 

with one last look at the door, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leaves your doorstep with a smile, walking back to the comfort of his own home. 

it’s around eight pm when jaemin finally comes back home, the older boy discarding his jacket and shoes in the entry hall, pushing his sneakers in between two pairs of yours carelessly. 

you sit up from the couch the moment you hear his footsteps, turning towards him and immediately forgetting about the show playing on the screen behind you. 

jaemin can sense you looking at him as he puts his bag down on the counter. he had been worried all day and hadn’t been able to concentrate on his class at all but when he turns to you, he’s confused. leaning back against the kitchen counter, he crosses his arms and inspects your face. you’re looking at him with puppy eyes and he doesn’t understand why, it annoys him a bit if he has to be honest. 

pointing his chin at you, he breaks the silence. “why are you looking at me like that? you want something?” 

he knows that your date didn’t show up, that was made clear by how distressed you were over call. but he doesn’t understand why you’re not surrounded by tissues and sitting on the couch with blankets and ice-cream.

when he sees you shuffling on the couch and hesitating, he grows even more curious and suspicious. gone is the annoyance as he makes his way over to you. this time, his voice is much more gentle, “did something happen with hyuck?”

you quickly shake your head and he lets out a relieved sigh. he wouldn’t want to beat up his best friend. 

“actually, i was wondering something.” your voice is small, as if you are anxious or embarrassed to tell him. he replies with a quick nod and you continue. “do you still want to set me up with one of your friends?” 

he grows quiet at your question before a large smile makes its way on his face. wow, did he hear that right? 

he hops over the couch, landing next to you and grinning from ear to ear. “why do you ask?”

you groan at his teasing, falling back onto the pile of cushions and blankets. “just answer the damn question jaemin.” 

he lifts his hands up and you smile when you realize that both he and haechan have the same gestures, probably due to all the years of being glued to each other like some blood suckers.

jaemin pushes his head into the comfortable cushion of the couch, his words coming out muffled. “one specific and very close –in every sense of the word– friend. yeah.”

your cheeks turn bright red and you hide your face in the blanket next to you, too embarrassed to look your brother in the eyes. “does the offer still stand?” you meekly ask him.

you swear you have never seen jaemin so happy in his life before. he claps his hands loudly, pumping his fist in the air and standing up from the couch with a jump. he points at you and beams, almost jumping up and down in excitement. “oh, this is my time to shine!”

you can only whine in protest when he launches towards the hallway, leaping the stairs and giggling all the way to his room. 

taglist: @0x1lovebot @itsyaapollochild @fairybinie @meraniki @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @lolalee24 @soobin-chois @kaimal @yjwfav @soobisms @peachy-yabbay @rrnhyuck @chims-kookies @vyii3 @jaeveil

do not copy or steal. all content belongs to @odxrilove

The couples bickering mid sesh, is such a refreshing twist to read 😂

aemulus. (noun) latin for rival or competitor. thought to be the origin of the name emily.

park seonghwa is in no position to ask you for a favor. but being underqualified for something has never stopped him before.

pairing: academic rival!seonghwa x fem!reader

details: grad school/nursing school au, fake dating

word count: 8.1k

warnings: swearing, food allergy, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, discussion of birth control methods

a/n: for @sluttywoozi's birthday <3 (just a month and a half late)

playlist

“I need a favor.”

“From me?”

Seonghwa tongues his cheek and looks around. “Is there anyone else in the room?”

You scoff. You aren’t friends with Park Seonghwa. You don’t even particularly like Park Seonghwa. You know the feeling’s mutual so why was he asking you for a favor?

“If you want something from me you should try being a little nicer,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the textbook on the desk in front of you. 

You hear Seonghwa sigh beside you before he tries again. “Sorry, yes, I need a favor from you. I need a date to this event Dr. Harvey is hosting for all of his graduate mentees next weekend.”

Date? You? Your face must be scrunched up into an expression of confusion and concern because Seonghwa puts his hand out to stop you before you interject. 

“Yes, it has to be you. I-I’m trying to secure a position on his research team next semester and I need an extra edge.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And I’m the extra edge?”

“Exactly! Dr. Harvey loves you. If I show up with you on my arm, the spot is mine for sure.”

“You really think it’ll be that easy? I haven’t taken one of Dr. Harvey’s classes since undergrad.”

You’re not even a student in Seonghwa’s program, the one Dr. Harvey was the head of. There just happened to be some overlap between your field of study and his that required you to take some of the same courses. 

“But you were his TA last semester, and you’re the top student in the department, after me-” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, “he brings you up in almost every meeting we have,” he continues, sounding more than a little annoyed, “when we’re supposed to be talking about my dissertation.”

Despite the non-case Seonghwa was making on his behalf, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. “He does? What does he say?’

“Usually, it’s little comments about how you would do something differently, which is not-so-subtle code for better. If you ever decide to write a dissertation on microbiology, let him know. I’m sure he’d love to be your mentor-” Seonghwa stops himself there, taking a deep breath as if to physically shake the bitterness from his demeanor. “Sorry. The point is that he thinks very highly of you and it would really help me out if you were my plus-one to this thing.”

“And what exactly does ‘this thing’ entail?”

“It’s a little appreciation banquet for all of the students he’s mentoring. He said it’s at this hotel, I think it’s downtown, and it’s a dinner and drinks in the evening and a brunch the next morning-”

“Wait, it’s overnight?” You hadn’t meant or intended to interrupt him but the prospect of spending the night in the same room with Park Seonghwa was enough to make you panic and forget your manners. 

Seonghwa looks annoyed that you cut him off but holds himself back from responding with something snippy. Instead, he lets it go. Unheard of for him.

“Yes, but it’s just one night.”

“One night?” He nods. “And I just have to show up with you?”

“Well, you’d pretend to be my girlfriend. ”

Right. That had sort of been implied when he asked but you were hoping that wasn’t the case. It honestly sounded like a nightmare, but the idea of having something to hold over Seonghwa’s head was tempting. 

Doing him the favor was one thing. The execution of said favor was another. Were you going to be able to put on a believable act as Seonghwa’s girlfriend? It certainly wasn’t going to come naturally to you... but you were friends with a bunch of theatre kids. You could pull it off. Probably. 

“Okay, well, what’s in it for me?” you ask.

He blinks, clearly caught off guard by your question like he hadn’t expected to get this far. 

“What do you want?”

Oh fuck. You scramble to think of something worthwhile that he could be of use for, coming up short in pretty much all aspects.

“My dad’s getting married in a couple of months. Our little duet can have an encore then.”

Seonghwa grins and offers his hand for you to shake. “Send me the details. Pleasure doing business.”

-

It isn’t until Seonghwa’s already left the classroom that he realizes he doesn’t even have your number. He’s known you for years now but has never had to contact you outside of the context of school. Never had reason to. He could turn around right now and go back and ask for your phone number. You’re still in there. 

He lets his pride get the better of him, and with a quiet groan, he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps walking. He’ll just email you later to ask for it. 

-

You iron out the details over text, once Seonghwa finally gets your number. You had made fun of him in your reply email for forgetting to get it back when he begged you to come with him in the first place, which only reassured Seonghwa that he had made the right choice that day. It would’ve been way more embarrassing to have you say that to his face. 

He asks you to meet him at a cafe the day before the event so you can iron out your story together. You look nervous, he notes, so he tries to break the ice. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet here. I would’ve had you over to my place, but my roommates are kind of obnoxious.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.” You gesture with your cup, shaking the ice around before taking a tentative sip. 

“Least I could do, considering.”

You shrug. “You’re already repaying me by going to my dad’s wedding with me, but I’m not one to turn down free coffee.”

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “So, how’d we fall in love?”

-

Seonghwa picks you up at five pm on Saturday. He makes some comment about you looking nice that you don’t really believe he means, but you return the compliment anyway. He does look good. Annoyingly so. He had told you it was a formal event but you hadn’t expected him to show up in a fucking three-piece suit. 

His hair is slicked back on the side to show off his undercut, and wire-rimmed glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, the reflection of traffic lights and street lamps shining in the lenses. It’s a little intimidating to be on his arm for the night when he looks like that, not that you didn’t also dress for the occasion, he just... looks so sharp. 

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as you climb into the passenger seat. “Pajamas? Toothbrush?”

“I think so.”

“If you forget something we can probably grab it at the kiosk they have in the lobby,” he assures you.

You groan. “Yeah, but we’ll have to pay a small fortune for it.”

“That’s the price of convenience.” He puts the car in drive and navigates out of your apartment complex’s parking lot onto the main road. “You can pick the music,” he offers after a moment of silence. 

“But you’re the one driving.”

“Is that a rule?”

“Yeah, the driver picks the music. Have you never heard of that before?”

He shakes his head but hums thoughtfully. “No, but I don’t mind. I’m not picky.”

“Shocking,” you mutter under your breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

You plug the aux into the lightning port on your phone and scroll through your playlist until you land on something you deem to be neutral enough to play in the background. You can feel Seonghwa watching you out of the corner of his eye but you willfully ignore it. 

“Do you remember the story?”

You nod. “We only got together officially a couple of months ago. You asked me out by waiting outside the door of one of my classes last semester-”

“Which class?”

“Um...” you frowned, trying to remember. 

“It was pharmacology.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Just be sure to remember that.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to be interrogating us about our relationship,” you scoff. 

Seonghwa takes a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m sorry. This is just important to me and it needs to be believable. If anyone were to find out that I tried to pull this shit off just to get on Harvey’s good side... I don’t even know what would happen to me. Like, would I get expelled? I definitely wouldn’t get the position, I-”

“Woah,” you cut him off before he can spiral any further, “we... don’t have to do this. You can drop me off back at my apartment and pretend like it never happened. I won’t make you go to the wedding...”

“No, no I need you,” Seonghwa insists, panicked. “It just... didn’t occur to me how stupid this idea was until now.”

“If you think it’s a bad idea we shouldn’t do it,” you reason.

“It is a bad idea,” he agrees, “but I don’t know what else to do. Jung Wooyoung is vying for the same spot and he’s way more likable than me.”

“That’s not true, he’s just more of a kiss-ass.”

“Same thing. Either way, I already told them I was bringing a plus-one so I can’t show up without you.”

You nod, holding back from suggesting other alternatives. Seonghwa seemed resolute on going through with it and it wouldn’t do any good to try and convince him otherwise. He was like you in that way. Stubborn to a fault. Trying to “fix” the problem would only start an argument and that was the last thing you needed right now. So you let it go, and it only killed you on the inside a little bit. 

-

Seonghwa checks into your room as soon as you get to the hotel. Since it’s late in the afternoon, it’s already ready, and you go up to drop off your things before navigating to the ballroom together. 

You try to ignore the single king-size bed in the middle of the room but it’s like it’s glaring right at you, taunting you in the reflection of the vanity mirror as you reapply your lipgloss. If Seonghwa notices your apprehension about it he doesn’t say anything. 

“We don’t have to go over the top,” Seonghwa reminds you in the elevator. “You don’t have to kiss me or be super touchy if you don’t want to. Some hand holding and familiarity should do it.”

“Are you sure?” 

He smirks at you. “I mean, if you want to kiss me, you’re more than welcome to. But it wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You stare at him. He had never said anything like that to you before. It felt like it had come out of nowhere. The smirk falls when he sees your reaction and he side steps away from you, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was kidding. It was, I wasn’t-”

The elevator dings to signal its arrival on the first floor before Seonghwa can finish whatever excuse he was stuttering through. He motions for you to exit first, putting his arm in front of the door to keep it from closing. When you turn back to look at him, he’s all calm and collected again like nothing even happened. The only evidence of ruffled feathers was the pressed set of his lips and the pink tinge of his cheeks. 

“Ready?” he asks, straightening his tie. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

He offers his hand to you and you take it, entwining your fingers with his. His thumb finds the back of your hand and draws absentminded circles. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to be comforting but it is. 

There are already a few people mingling when you and Seonghwa make it to the ballroom. You don’t recognize any of them but that was to be expected. Seonghwa had said that it was an intimate event, just Dr. Harvey, his mentees, and their potential plus-ones. Not everyone is here yet from what you can tell. You can’t hear Jung Wooyoung’s loud voice echoing throughout the hall so you figure he must be one of the late ones. 

The way the room is decorated reminds you a bit of Christmas with the opulent chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the ivy garlands laid across the tables. All that's missing are the trees wrapped in lights and potted poinsettias in every corner.

Dr. Harvey is in the middle of a conversation with a couple of other students when he spots the two of you. He excuses himself and approaches you with a smile. 

“I’m glad that you both could make it!” he says, greeting you with a hug. 

He hugs your fake boyfriend next and claps him firmly on the back. Seonghwa coughs at the unexpected hit but plays it off easily with a chuckle. 

“When Park told me he was bringing you, I thought he was kidding. I couldn’t believe he finally got the guts to ask you out.”

Seonghwa stiffens next to you but keeps the smile plastered on his face. You, on the other hand, can’t mask your surprise. 

“What do you mean?” you press. 

“Oh, just that I sort of wondered if you kids would get together,” he explains. “You used to argue in my class all the time as undergraduates, but whenever we had group activities you would pair up anyway.”

“That’s because we didn’t trust anyone else with the work,” Seonghwa points out. 

You squeeze his hand urgently, trying to tell him to shut the fuck up before he ruins his chances with his big mouth. Thankfully, he seems to get the message and relaxes a little but you can tell he still wants to protest.   

“You didn’t even trust each other with the work,” the professor corrects. “You would bicker about every little thing under your breath when you thought I couldn’t hear even though you always sat in the front of the classroom.”

“I guess we are a little competitive,” you admit with a grin, looking up at Seonghwa with what you hope comes across as affection. 

“That’s an understatement, my love,” he agrees.

“Well, it’s nice to see that you’ve been able to turn that energy into something positive,” Dr. Harvey says. “What changed?”

“Well, we’d been seeing each other for a while and finally decided to make it official,” Seonghwa muses. 

And by ‘seeing each other’ he meant fucking. When you decided on your story that day in the cafe, Seonghwa had said it would make the most sense if your fake relationship budded from a friends-with-benefits thing- or acquaintances with benefits, whatever the two of you were. But of course, you couldn’t tell your professor that so you had to more so imply it by talking around the subject.

“Well, I hope that you being together means I’ll get to see more of your face. Park, you need to bring your girlfriend around the department some time. I’m sure the other faculty miss you too.”

Seonghwa nods. “I’ll be sure to do that, sir.”

“Great! I think some more people are starting to trickle in so I should go say hello, but please help yourselves to drinks while we wait for dinner.”

You both thank him and wait before saying anything else to each other. 

“I think that went okay,” Seonghwa sighs.

“Could’ve been worse,” you agree. 

He takes a quick look around before turning back to you. “Do you want something to drink, baby?”

“God, yes.”

At the bar, Seonghwa orders you both a glass of wine. It’s an open bar but there’s a little fish bowl for tips balanced on the edge of the counter so he deposits a couple of bills in it as he thanks the bartender.

He holds one of the glasses out to you with a half-smile. “Cheers.”

“To getting through the night,” you propose. 

“To getting through the night.”

-

Dinner is a choice between a chicken pasta dish, a beef and potatoes dish, and ratatouille that could be made vegan upon request. 

“Does the pesto have pine nuts in it?” Seonghwa asks the server when he reaches your end of the table.

“No, all of our options tonight are nut-free,” he replies. 

“Perfect, thank you. Did you want the pasta, then, baby?” 

“I- yes please.”

“And I’ll get the beef and we can share.”

“Sounds good,” the server says as he jots down your orders on his little notepad. 

You wait until he moves on to the next guest before leaning over to your date and whispering “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Hm?”

“You remembered... I’m allergic to tree nuts.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal and murmurs, “you almost dying in the middle of chem lab our freshman year is pretty hard to forget.”

He had a point. Still, you were surprised he remembered the girl that collapsed to the floor and had to be stabbed in the thigh with an EpiPen all those years ago as you. You’re not sure if you’d remember the details so clearly if it were the other way around. 

All of the dishes were pre-prepared by the hotel’s event catering staff so they were served almost immediately after the orders were taken. 

Dr. Harvey led the conversation, engaging each of his students about their studies and personal lives. He was even sure to include the plus ones at the table, making an effort to get to know them as well. That was why Dr. Harvey had been one of your favorite professors, why you’d agreed to TA for him when he asked. He genuinely cared about his students, wanted them to succeed and was willing to go the extra mile to help them do so. You still remember crying in his office over a failed lab report, remember how he had patiently walked you through what you’d done wrong until it finally clicked for you, how he ended up giving you half of the credit you missed back just for following up and showing how dedicated you were to learning the material.

Even now as he listens to his mentees talk about everything under the sun, he doesn’t want anyone to feel left out. 

A hand on your thigh startles you out of your zoning out. You had been trying your best to pay attention but it’s just so hard to stay attentive when Wooyoung opens his mouth. He’s been talking about algae for what you estimate to be the past twelve minutes- so in your defense, you never stood a chance anyway.

“Do you want another glass of wine?” Seonghwa asks, low enough for only you to hear.

You hadn’t even realized you’d finished your first one. It had probably happened sometime in the middle of Wooyung’s rambling. 

“Yes please.”

“Okay, be right back.”

He stands from the table and takes both yours and his empty glasses in one hand, using the other to push his chair back in. Thankfully, he’s back before you can be cornered by the others at the table. You can feel it, the curiosity your presence invokes from your peers. You only recognize a few of them but all of the sideways glances make you wonder how many of them suspect why you’re really here. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe they’re just surprised Seonghwa managed to pull anyone at all... no, that couldn’t be it. He’s too hot, his personality alone wouldn’t be enough to deter anyone from going out with him. 

“What’s wrong?”

You take a sip from your newly refilled glass of wine and try to play it off. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“You’re making a face.”

“What face? This is just my face.”

“No, you’ve got that wrinkle in between your eyebrows. You’re worrying about something. What is it?”

You sigh and lean over to whisper in his ear. “I feel like your... friends think it’s weird that I’m here.”

“These people aren’t my friends.”

“I know. I didn’t know what else to call them- is that really the part of what I said that you think is important?”

“Why do you think they think it’s weird?”

“I don’t know, I just keep noticing everyone looking at me.”

“It’s probably because you’re pretty,” he suggests, which makes you want to change the subject entirely. 

He thinks you’re pretty? Does he think you’re pretty or does he think other people think you’re pretty? What would possess him to say something like that?

“That- no, it’s not that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I know what a dirty look is and I’ve been getting a lot of them. Do you think they’re onto us?”

Seonghwa makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe I underestimated the number of people applying for the same position as me.”

“Maybe, and maybe they know we haven’t always gotten along and are suspicious of why this is the first they’re hearing of us dating.”

“I guess we need to turn it up, then,” Seonghwa muses under his breath. 

“Wha- that’s not what I-”

-

After dinner, there’s a bit of mingling. You get the opportunity to formally introduce yourself to the guests you’ve never met before and answer the burning question on everyone’s mind as to why you’re there in the first place. 

Seonghwa’s hand is warm on the small of your back, making you wish you had decided against wearing a backless dress. Although, you suspect you still would have been able to feel the heat of his palm through the silk had it offered more coverage. 

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Park,” Hongjoong, you thought his name was, says as he wraps an arm around his own date. In her heels, she’s taller than him by an inch or so, and somehow it only makes the man more intimidating. “Thought you were too busy for dating, or was that just an excuse?”

“I am busy. But when you meet the right person, you make time. You of all people should know that.”

Hongjoong narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly and grins. “You’re right, we’re all fools for love, aren’t we?”

“It certainly seems that way.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong continue exchanging semi-polite small talk until the latter’s date tugs him away, mumbling something about needing another drink. 

“I didn’t realize you were so popular,” you say under your breath once the two are out of earshot.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one who hates me,” he mutters. 

“And here I thought we had something special.”

Seonghwa gives you a half-smile. “Sorry to break it to you like this.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you,” you clarify, voice lowered. 

He can’t hide his surprise as his eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

He straightens up a bit, stiffening, and you wonder if you’ve said something wrong. “Good to know.”

You each have another drink before the night ends. Champagne is served with dessert and Dr. Harvey proposes a toast to all of his students once everyone’s gathered around the table again. 

You clink your glass to Seonghwa’s and take a sip. The bubbles soothe your throat, making the lies you’ve been telling all night easier to swallow. 

You’re not drunk, you haven’t had that much to drink, but the alcohol is definitely making you feel lighter. People have started filtering out of the ballroom to go to their rooms but a few linger a little longer, taking advantage of the free booze and relaxed atmosphere. Your professor flits between the remaining students, continuing conversations that had been cut short during or before dinner. 

Soft music is playing over the speakers and a few couples are dancing to it. Seonghwa hadn’t said anything about dancing, it probably wasn’t on the actual itinerary, but he draws you out to the floor without warning. You want to protest but his hands are already on your hips and your chest is already pressed to his. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him, save bumping into each other in labs and accidentally spilling samples down your coats. Based on the number of times that had happened, you don’t expect Seonghwa to be particularly graceful. But he seems intent on proving you wrong as he leads you to the rhythm. 

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you murmur. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he quips back. 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?” 

He seems to think about it for a moment before answering. “I love Star Wars.”

“I already knew that.”

“What?”

“You used to bring a Darth Vader thermos to class. The lid was his helmet.”

“Legos?”

“Lego guy keychain.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“You’d literally play it in class.”

Seonghwa smirks. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I just didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“Wha- I’m not obsessed with you!” you sputter. “I’m just very observant! And you make your interests too obvious.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” he teases, making you roll your eyes. 

He spins you before you get the chance to argue again, extending his arm all the way and then whipping it back so that you’re stumbling into his embrace. 

“My turn, then?” he asks. 

You feel your face scrunch up in confusion before you can stop it. “What do you mean?”

“Your favorite color is pink,” he whispers, as if it’s some kind of secret. “You love The Lord of the Rings. You quote it all the time. You like to cook. You always brought your leftovers for lunch and everyone would ask how you made whatever it was because it smelled so good.”

You’re staring at him now, lips slightly parted in surprise. His gaze flickers down to them and then back up. He smiles. 

“You’re not the only observant one.”

A song is still playing but you’ve stopped dancing. It’s like you’re standing in the eye of a storm, surrounded by music and conversation that blurs and distorts around you. It all sounds muffled, but that might just be the ringing in your ears. You realize what’s about to happen a moment before it does but you’re still unprepared when Seonghwa kisses you. 

His lips are softer than you expected, not that you’ve imagined kissing him before... not that you ever wondered. His arms are still around your waist and he pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. 

You’re stiff at first, unsure of what to do with your arms or your own lips, but you relax when you feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip. He makes a contented sort of sound in the back of his throat when you open your mouth for him. It’s just slightly, just enough for him to get a taste, but he seems pleased nonetheless. 

Distant cheering in the background startles the both of you out of your daze, pops the little bubble you’d somehow found yourselves in. It’s then that you remember that you’re in public, and that you probably shouldn’t be sucking each other's faces off in the middle of this very nice ballroom in front of your peers. 

You part, both a little breathless. 

“I hope that was okay,” Seonghwa whispers against your cheek. 

“It was, yeah. It was okay. More than okay.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He grins, the upturn of his cheeks pushing his specs higher on his nose, making glimmers of light from the chandelier dance in the reflection of the glass like stars falling from the sky. One of his hands strays from your waist to take your own.  “Wanna get out of here?”

You’re nodding before your brain can fully process the question. “Yes please.” 

-

The journey back up to your room is a blur. You vaguely register bidding Hongjoong, Dr. Harvey, and a couple of other people whose names had long since slipped your mind goodnight. You’re not sure what you said, Seonghwa probably took the lead. 

Your cheeks are warm with embarrassment as you make your way out of the hall hand in hand. You feel like everyone knows what you’re about to do. And with a kiss like that in a crowded room, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.

But did it really matter if they knew you were about to get your back blown out? It would only help sell the story to them even more. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself, still not ready to admit that you’re not playing pretend anymore. 

The clicking of your heels on the marble sounds entirely too loud as you walk through the lobby to the elevator bay. The lights have been dimmed for the night, emulating the darkness outside. Only a few employees remain behind the desks, stationed for any late check-ins. The rest had surely clocked out hours ago when the rush ended.

“Do you have a key?” Seonghwa asks you, eyeing the purse you’d somehow remembered to grab on your way out. 

You did, but, “there’s one in your pocket.”

His hand comes to the front of his pants, feeling for the plastic card. “Right. Sorry.”

He uses the key to activate the elevator and then he uses it again to open the door to your room. The ride up had been silent, and a little awkward, both of you standing on opposite sides of the tiny room, avoiding eye contact.  

You wonder if the energy has shifted, if the moment has passed. Had he suddenly come to his senses? Was he already regretting kissing you? 

You don’t get the chance to ask either of these things, however, because he’s kissing you again as soon as you stumble into the room. It’s dark, so everything is a little uncoordinated, but it almost seems fitting for you and Seonghwa. 

He presses you up against the door, fingers fumbling with the ties on the back of your dress. It’s hard for him to undo them when he can’t see what he’s doing, too occupied with kissing his way down your neck. 

“Fuck this,” he gasps, breaking away. “Lift up your arms.”

You do, gasping as Seonghwa tugs the silk up and over your head. It’s the kind of dress you can’t wear a bra with so you’re left completely bare from the waist up. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes, running his hands over your body. 

“I’m trying.”

A beat lapses before Seonghwa lets out a quiet chuckle. You’re the one to pull him back this time, tugging at his suit jacket as you kiss him in an attempt to get it off his shoulders. 

“Let me, um,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling along the wall of the little hallway you’re standing in for something. “Let me turn on a lamp or something. I want to see you.”

The comment makes you feel shy but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him too so you let him go and only laugh a little bit when he trips over his suitcase on the way over to the desk.

“Oh, would you rather have it off?” he asks, noticing the way you’re holding your arms over your chest. 

“No, no, I want to see you too,” you assure him. “I just feel kind of weird being the only one naked.”

“Well that’s an easy fix.”

He makes his way back over to you, loosening his tie as he does. He leaves it hanging around his neck so that you can take it off for him. The satin feels heavy in your hands and you wonder briefly how it would feel tied around your wrists- another time, maybe. 

Seonghwa focuses on unbuttoning his shirt while you lift the tie over his head, hands brushing together as you work in tandem. 

You reach for his belt but he ducks out of your grasp with a grin, shrugging off the button up as he sinks down onto his knees in front of you. You barely register the feeling of his hands on your thighs. You’re too caught up with the way he’s looking up at you. He’s taken his glasses off, though you don’t know when- or where he’s put them for that matter, and is gazing up at you like painted the cosmos themselves. Like he fully intends on worshiping you. 

Park Seonghwa on his knees. What a sight. 

“Can I?” he asks, fingers gently wedging themselves in between your legs to part them. “Please?”

You nod. 

“I need you to say it.”

“You can,” you whisper. 

“I can... what?” Seonghwa presses. “I haven’t even said what it is I want to do to you.”

He’s taunting you now. It’s obvious what he meant when he asked you but he just loves pushing your buttons too much to stop, even when he’s on the verge of begging to taste your pussy. 

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you breathe. 

“Fuck.”

You nearly lose your balance as Seonghwa lifts one of your legs over his shoulder but he plants both of his hands on your ass and pulls you onto his face before that can happen. He groans at the first taste of you, even though it’s over your panties. You’re not sure whether he meant to leave them on to be even more of a tease or if he had just simply forgotten to take them off in the rush to get you on his tongue. 

They’re the seamless kind, the kind that aren’t supposed to show through thin material. You’d chosen to wear them with your dress instead of suffering through the discomfort of a thong all night. The comfort was a benefit. The sheerness was a drawback. You might as well not be wearing anything with how form fitting they were, especially considering how wet you already are.

Your hands are in Seonghwa’s hair and you’re trying not to pull too hard but you have to anchor yourself to something or you’re afraid your knees will buckle. 

“That’s it,” he praises, nose nudging your clit as he licks into you. It’s muffled but you can still make it out, if just barely. “Harder, baby.”

“Are you s-sure?”

He nods and the motion makes you want to cry out. “I won’t break. Promise.”

You decide to trust his word and tug a little harder. He moans and rewards you by pushing his tongue inside of you. He can only go so far with the fabric of your underwear restricting him but it’s enough to get you to whimper his name. 

-

God, you sound so pretty, it’s almost too much for Seonghwa to handle. You taste just as good as he’d always imagined, better even, and he’s losing all sense of control because of it. He can tell he’s making you feel good but this won’t be enough to get you to cum, at least, not as hard as he wants you to before he fucks you... if that’s where the night ends up going. He would be more than happy to have you cum on his tongue, kiss you goodnight, and then fall asleep beside you if that’s what you wanted.   

He manages to get your panties out of the way and to the side with his teeth before diving back in and sucking your clit into his mouth. You make a little surprised sound and melt into him even more. 

He wants to get his fingers inside of you too, but it would be difficult with the way the two of you are positioned so he pulls back and jerks his head in the direction of the bed. You help him to his feet and pull him in for a kiss, moaning at the way you taste on his lips. 

Seonghwa didn’t think it was possible for him to get any harder than he already is but you’re always going and proving him wrong. 

You release him after another moment and fall back onto the mattress, calling to him like a siren. You don’t actually say anything, but you don’t have to. The sight of you on the bed you’ll share with your legs spread and your thighs still glistening with your arousal and his saliva is all it’d take for Seonghwa to throw himself into the sea and drown in you. 

He takes off his slacks finally, just to give himself a bit of relief, and joins you on the bed as fast as humanly possible.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, running his fingers over the soaked patch of your underwear. 

“Please,” you laugh. 

You lift your hips so that he can pull them off of you and then he’s back in between your legs with your thighs clamped around his head so tightly he can’t hear anything aside from your desperate pleas for him not to stop. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s been grinding into the mattress until you’re cumming on his tongue and it takes everything in him to hold back from falling over the edge with you. 

“Hwa...” 

Your voice is so distant he doesn’t hear it until you repeat it. The nickname makes his heart do a little somersault. You’ve never called him that before. It makes him want to smile like an idiot and not fight so hard to suppress those pesky feelings he’s been harboring for you for God knows how long. He wants to kiss you all over and make love to you and give you a little house on his Animal Crossing island even though he’d have to rearrange the entire layout. He actually brought his switch with him, it’s in his bag and he could go get it right now and-

“Hwa!”

Fuck. Right. He pushes the aforementioned feelings down again, clears his throat, and plays it cool. “Hm? What’s up?” His voice cracks on the ‘up’ because of course it does. So much for playing it cool. 

“Can you fuck me, please?” 

He feels like he could fall through the floor. How the fuck could you sound so polite asking to get your back blown out like that? His dick twitches against his thigh and Seonghwa has to take a deep breath to steel himself before answering. 

“You sure you want to keep going? You want this?”

“God, yes,” you whine, leaning forward to try and pull him on top of you. “Are you going to make me beg for it?”

Tempting, but, “no, it’s just... I have to tell you something.”

Jesus, was he really doing this now? It felt like the worst possible moment to bring it up but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he slept with you without coming clean. He’d already gone further than he probably should have, judgment clouded by lust and alcohol and the lingering scent of your perfume on your neck. 

You face falls, making Seonghwa realize he definitely should have worded it differently. 

“It’s not anything bad! I don’t think...”

“Just tell me,” you say flatly. 

“Um, remember in the car earlier today when we were going through our story, and you couldn’t remember what class I asked you out after?”

“And you yelled at me about it?”

“I didn’t yell at you-” he pauses, and squeezes his eyes shut. This was why he kept going back and forth over what he was about to say, why he was hesitating even now. “I reacted the way I did because... I actually was going to ask you out that night after your pharmacology class got out.”

“What?”

“I was there, waiting outside and I-I chickened out.”

You blink in disbelief. “You don’t... hate me?”

“Hate you? I never hated you!” You give him a look. “There was a bit of... animosity between us, but it was never hate! At least, not for me! Did you hate me?”

It’s your turn to feel exposed. That’s what Seonghwa thinks you feel anyway, from the look on your face. 

“No... I already told you I didn't! It was... what you described.”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you. “I don’t believe you.”

“I mean, like you said, it wasn’t hate. I just didn’t particularly like you. And I thought that was a mutual thing.”

“It was!” he agrees quickly. A little too quickly, maybe. “It was. For a while. And then it wasn’t. But I never said anything about it because I kept thinking it was just a phase I was going through. I thought I’d get over it and you’d never have to know.”

“But that never happened?” He shakes his head. “But you built up the courage to show up and ask me out that day. You had to have accepted it then.”

He sighs and rolls onto his back. “I guess I did, but like I said, I was a coward. When I peeked through the window on the door, I saw you laughing and joking around with your friends and I just thought about how it’s never been like that with us. And I thought it’d never work out because we’re... us. We bicker all of the time. We’re always competing. That didn’t magically go away when I realized I had feelings for you. So I thought you deserved someone who you’d actually get along with.” 

“Well, that should have been up to me to decide,” you say. 

“I know,” Seonghwa admits with a groan. Then, he bolts upright. “Wait, would you have said yes?”

“Probably.”

“What do you mean probably?”

“I mean, I would’ve liked to see where it went. I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s one of the things about you that annoyed me.” Seonghwa scoffs. “Just being honest.”

“Well, if I’m being honest,” he counters, propping himself up on his elbow. “I kind of like it when we bicker.”

“Don’t tell me it turns you on.”

“Only sometimes.”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re sick.”

He shrugs. “It’s only because you’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”

“You must be really horny right now, then,” you mutter. 

“You’re mad at me?” 

“Yes, I’m mad at you! You’ve been keeping your little crush on me a secret all this time! And you chose now to tell me?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I have the worst timing.”

“Understatement of the year.”

Seonghwa figures he deserves that one so he lets it slide even though it chips at his pride. “Wait, so... what does that make us? If we feel the same way, shouldn’t we give it a real shot?”

You groan, putting your hands over your face. “Can we talk about it after you fuck me stupid? I’m still so wet I can’t think about anything else.”

“Oh yeah, right.” He sits up and rolls back on top of you, caging you in. He presses his thigh between your legs so that you can grind on it as he kisses you again. “Are you sure arguing with me doesn’t make you horny?” he teases. “Can feel you throbbing against me, baby.”

“I’m horny because you’re hot and your dick is hard.” 

And because you like him, Seonghwa thinks giddily. 

“We can talk about it later, then,” he surrenders, reaching down to pump himself a few times. “As long as you’ll say you’re mine.”

You tilt your head to the side as you process his request. “Yours?”

“Mine.”

“You want me to be yours?”

“If that’s something you want.”

“It is something I want.”

“Then say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” Seonghwa hisses, grinding against you. He’s not even inside of you yet and he feels like he could explode.

“Please, Hwa,” you whisper and reach down to line him up yourself.

“Wait fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

“I have an IUD. It’s okay,” you assure him.

“Are you sure?”

“As long as you’re clean.”

“I am, I haven’t been with anyone since last year, and I’ve been tested.”

“Me too.”

“Then we’re good?” he asks. 

“We’re good.”

“Perfect. Deep breath, baby.”

Seonghwa’s arms threaten to give out the instant he begins to push himself inside of you. He should have been the one to take a deep breath. He already knows how you taste so he really should have been more prepared for how good you would feel but then again Seonghwa had always been a bit Icarian in nature so his overly ambitious attitude is pretty par for the course in light of everything. 

“Hold on, just... just give me a second,” he stutters.

He swears you clench around him purposefully, playing it off with a meek “sorry, it was an accident” when he glares at you. He wouldn’t put it past you to turn this into a competition too, but he wants to remember your first time together as something special. He wants to be in the moment with you, wants to make you cum over and over and over on his cock until you can’t say anything but his name. He wants to make tonight all about you. He wants to make every night about you, but he’ll have to start with tonight. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him, voice so sweet he almost has to pull out so he doesn’t end what’s barely started. 

“You feel too good,” he admits, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. 

“If you cum now, we can just go again, right?”

Right. He forgot about that. He needs to stop thinking with his dick. 

“Yeah, right. Right.”

“Fucked out already?” you tease, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“It’s you,” he pants weakly. “How can I not be?”

You open your mouth, probably about to say something smart in reply but he rolls his hips just as you do, pushing himself deeper inside of you. The words seem to dissolve on your tongue, your mouth falling open in a moan instead.

“What was that, baby?” he asks, moving even faster now.

You answer in mumbled nonsense. Seonghwa smirks down at you and leans forward to kiss the point where your neck meets your collarbone. He thinks about what a hickey would look like there, what kind of attention it would draw from everyone tomorrow morning. 

He can’t dwell on it for too long, though, because you’re yanking him back up by his hair, warning him that you’re about to cum.

“Already?”

“It’s you,” you repeat his own words back to him, and he feels his own stomach tense up in anticipation. “You and your perfect dick.”

Okay, so, less romantic than his sentiment but the structure was still there. It made him feel warm inside nonetheless. 

“Can I cum, please? Please?”

“Do you think you can be quiet? We don’t want a noise complaint, remember?” 

“I c-can be quiet.”

You’re lying through your teeth and Seonghwa can tell, he’s known you for so long now that he;’s memorized all of your tells. But he’s right there on the edge too and he wants nothing more than to cum with you.

“I’m close too, baby. Shit, can I cum inside you? Please?”

“God, yes- please, give it to me...”

He kisses you as he cums, managing to swallow some of your moans and cries of his name as you cum even harder than you did the first time. He’s sensitive by the time you finally come down from it but he doesn’t pull out. 

“Can we lay like this for a second?”

You nod easily, letting out a soft laugh when Seonghwa drops his weight on top of you. “I don’t think I can move anyway.”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.”

“Oh my god, get off of me.”

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

“You’re the worst!”

“The worst at what?”

“Everything!”

“You didn’t seem to think that a few minutes ago,” he points out. 

“I’m having post-nut clarity,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his shoulders. 

“I didn’t know that happened to girls,” he muses. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about women,” you snap, still struggling underneath him. “Maybe if you talked to one once and a while you’d be more knowledgeable on the subject.” 

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“That’s because I- are you getting hard again?” you ask in disbelief. 

“I told you that bickering with you turns me on!”

“You are unbelievable!”

Seonghwa kisses you and rolls his hips experimentally. You moan, relaxing under him immediately. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” you sigh against his lips. 

“Yeah, we’re definitely going to be late to brunch tomorrow.”

happy birthday emily!! i'm so lucky to call you my bestie and i hope you enjoyed your very late present :)

part-2, is a simp in denial 😆

Fool For You

❝ We’re all fools when it comes to love, and the cute nerd in your calculus class has to learn this the hard way. Luckily, you’re there to help him through it. ❞

pairing: joshua hong x female reader

genre: college au, fwb au, smut, fluff

word count: 5.1k

warnings: nerd!shua, cheerleader!reader, josh is nothing more than a simp in denial, shua is also vv bad at hiding his feelings, mingyu is the captain of this ship, jealousy, pining, teasing, begging, cockwarming, oral sex (f receiving), riding, spanking, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, jealous sex, overstimulation

read part one

a/n: written due to my inability to get over this concept. minors dni!!!

Josh is almost too good at hiding his budding feelings for you. It’s funny how good he is at pretending that he doesn’t feel an inexplicable warmth in his chest when you sit next to him in calculus. It’s even funnier how he manages to convince you that he’s unaffected when you continuously go to the library just to spend time with him. And it’s fucking hilarious how he acts like he hasn’t seen the latest photos and videos you’ve uploaded when he knows full well that he has the post notifications on for all your socials.

Part of him knows that this facade he has going on is only a byproduct of his denial. After all, the feeling he gets in his chest every time he so much as thinks about you only becomes real if he acknowledges it. His unwillingness to admit his growing feelings is a defense mechanism of sorts because no one had ever made him feel the way you did.

It comforting to him that you actually like the more irritating parts of his personality. The cold and aloof attitude he displayed turned off a lot of people who would’ve otherwise been in his life. But you didn’t care about that because you liked every part of him.

Joshua tries not to think of all this as you’re literally bouncing on his cock, but it’s hard not to. Not with the way your head is thrown back in pleasure, pretty lips dropped open as even prettier moans spill from them. The way your captivating eyes are focused on his face when you come down from yet another orgasm has his cock throbbing wildly. It’s hard to not be overwhelmed with emotion when you direct that beautiful smile of yours at him.

A smile that’s meant for him and only him.

In an effort to focus on the pleasure and not the intensity of the feelings consuming his entire being, he starts to snap his cock into you more harshly. Your shaky moans and needy whimpers make him tighten his grip on your waist. Josh can’t stop a teasing smirk from lifting his lips when he feels your hot cunt start to spasm around his dick. Your arousal is dripping down to his balls and has a wet slapping sound filling his room. The carnal heat in his gut clouds his mind as he starts to guide you down on his dick to fuck you deeper.

“I– fuck.” You let out a choked moan, feeling Josh’s throbbing tip hit your sweet spot. “Gonna come again.”

Josh loves how fucked out you look, completely gone in the pleasure only he can give you. “Yeah? Come for me, pretty girl.”

You love it when he calls you that, and you’re pretty sure he knows it because he always calls you that when he wants you to come on his cock. Josh’s large hands smooth up your body to roughly palm your tits. A loud cry escapes you when he pinches and pulls your sensitive nipples. That’s all it takes for you to gush around his cock.

His hips don’t stop, chasing after his own high with a ferocious need. Josh’s large hands snake down your body and grab a handful of your ass to roughly pull you deeper onto his cock, the giant tip hitting deeper inside you than before. You can feel him throbbing inside you wildly as he starts bouncing you up and down his fat cock.

“Josh!” You cry out when he slams into your spongy spot with a particularly sharp thrust.

The loud cries and moans you’re letting out turn into pathetic mewls as he repeatedly slams over that spot again and again. Joshua watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, absolutely mesmerized. It’s an erotic sight that triggers his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum spill inside you, filling you up to the brim. Your moans mix in with Josh’s as his seed slowly spills down to his balls.

For a moment, you two just hold on to each other. Josh softly rubs his cheek against your chest, not wanting to seperate from you. He loves the feeling of your nails gently running through his hair and grazing his scalp. It feels oddly intimate, yet he doesn’t stop you from doing it.

A sudden possessiveness overwhelms him, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he has you pinned underneath him, cock still fully sheathed inside you. The teasing grin you’re directing at him makes his dick throb in need.

“Still want more?” You ask through quiet pants.

“You know I’ll never get enough of you, baby.”

His smooth voice has your cunt squeezing his aching cock once again, velvety walls locking him in and refusing to let him go. Joshua lets out a low groan as he snakes an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. “Fuck. Your greedy little pussy won’t let me go, babe.”

His hips press into yours, and you can only whimper when the fat tip of his leaking cock brushes against your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back as you push your hips up to meet his gentle thrusts. It makes Josh smile. You’re always so pliant and needy for him, always ready to take everything he gives you.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan wantonly as his thrusts turn sharp and rough.

His balls are clapping against your ass and your arousal is coating his entire pelvis—the wet slapping sound of sex filling his room. A carnal need suddenly consumes Josh, and he starts drilling into you at an unrelenting pace. Your choked moans and loud crises of his name has Josh’s chest burning with insatiable desire. It’s apparent in the rhythm he sets as he’s stretching you open on his cock.

You’re starting to lose yourself to the pleasure his big dick is bringing you, but you can still feel the way his arm releases your waist and trails down to your puffy cunt. Josh’s long fingers start rubbing quick circles on your sensitive clit, the delicious motion making you see stars.

“Your pussy was fucking made for me.”

He knows you’re too far gone to answer when all you can do is moan stupidly, eyes rolled all the way back as his fingers pinch and twist your puffy clit. Still, your hips are still twisting in time to meet his deep thrusts. Josh feels his heart start to race when your breathe out his name so desperately, hot walls squeezing the sensitive head of his cock when he slams against your sweet spot.

Right now he feels drunk, trying futilely to hold back the needy whines and whimpers on the tip on his tongue. He grips your hips and focuses on fucking his aching cock into your doughy count. Josh’s pace stutters when you mewl his name with something that comes dangerously close to affection.

Everything is almost too much for him—you are almost too much. He’s gotten better at fucking you and not letting too much of his emotions through, but fuck. You always made it so hard. Every time you blink up at him with your pretty eyes and cute pout he feels like you can see right through his stoic facade.

Your walls squeeze his cock, and he knows you’re close. He is too. “You...” he grunts, jaw clenching as he fucks into you. “Do you love m— this?”

Joshua stresses the last word, eyes bulging when he realizes what he almost asked you. Luckily, you were too fucked out to notice. He keeps pounding into you, wondering why his heart feels like it’s on the verge of exploding.

With a few more strokes, you two come at the same time, smashing your lips together to swallow each other’s moans. For now, Josh only focuses on the way you just melt against him, seeking a comforting embrace. He gives it to you like always, slowly easing himself out of you before gently rubbing along your spent body.

You blink back into reality when you feel a warm towel between your legs, gently and attentively cleaning you up. A soft sigh escapes you. If only you could lay in between your little nerd’s soft sheets forever.

“You don’t have to leave.” Josh is quick to say when you sit up and start getting dressed. He almost wants to hit himself for how awkwardly desperate he sounds.

You look back at him with a quiet giggle. “I know, but if I stay we’ll end up fucking all night and I won’t have any energy for practice tomorrow. The team’s still annoyed with me because I haven’t been landing my stunts like I usually do.”

Before you, Joshua didn’t believe cheerleading to be an actual sport. Shaking pompoms and chanting some cheesy cheer didn’t seem like something that required any actual athleticism, but as he got to know you, he realized that he had it all wrong. Tumbling and flying were nothing if not athletic. The proof was in your physical state. More often than not, you would suffer from muscle strains and ligament sprains.

“Cheer is a contact sport, Joshy.” You said casually as you iced your ankles one day. “Every time I land one of my stunts, I’m landing on five times my body weight. This sort of thing is bound to happen.”

It only made the feeling in his chest intensify after you casually dismissed the clear pain you were in. Since then, this lingering feeling always creeps up on him when you’re around. It’s the same feeling he has as he watches you gather your things. Even as you press a chaste kiss on his lips to say goodbye, the feeling doesn’t go away.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Josh groans with a small smirk. “You sound like you want something.”

You swallow the whimper at the edge of your throat and will yourself to come to your senses. Yes, you were becoming impatient, but this time you were determined to not beg. Somehow, you managed to let out a breathy scoff. “That’s funny because it feels like you want something.”

Josh doesn’t know when you made it a habit to cockwarm him every time you two study at his place, but he’s not complaining. The feeling of your tight cunt wrapped snugly against his cock is a feeling he’ll never get sick of. Plus, he absolutely loves it when you fall apart for him, so desperate and needy.

It’s sort of a game between you two now. Both of you want to see the other give in first and move. You always say it’s not fair that he rolls and pinches your clit to get you to grind your hips. He always points out it’s not fair of you to clench down on him knowing that the tightness of your cunt drives him crazy with need.

This time, however, you’re winning.

His thick cock is throbbing inside you wildly, and Josh keeps burying his face into your neck. The feather light kisses he was placing on the tender flesh at the beginning of your game have become harsher and more frequent.

“And if I do? Will you give it to me?”

Fuck.

“You’re creaming all over my cock, baby.” Josh’s lips brush against your cheek sinfully. “Making such a fucking mess. Be a good girl and move for me, hm?”

He’s goading you into moving your hips to fuck yourself on his cock, but you don’t relent, knowing he’s so close to snapping. “I don’t feel like being a good girl.”

Josh’s large hands leisurely wander up and down your body, rolling your hardened nipples between his warm fingers. “You’re so mean.”

You can only smirk as his hands settle on your hips. “I learned from the best.”

All it takes is you clenching down on him one more time for Josh to give in. The grip on your hips becomes bruised as he starts to thrust deeply into your dripping cunt. His thrusts are rough and sharp, not once stopping in his fast pace.

All he can think is how he’s going to make you gush on his cock all night. You did win, after all.

Josh can’t put a name on what you two have. To say it’s a friends with benefits relationship doesn’t really seem to fit. It’s not like you two are enemies, but to say that you're actual friends doesn’t seem right either. Sure, he’s grown significantly more fond of you since you took his virginity, but despite everything, he still doesn’t know how to label what you two have.

Maybe that’s why he freezes when Vernon asks if you two are dating.

The small table at the corner of the library suddenly goes uncomfortably silent. Vernon and Soonyoung exchange a look as Jeonghan watches, entirely amused, when Josh grows visibly flustered.

“No.” You say without looking up from your phone. “We just hang out sometimes.”

Your answer is accepted without much doubt, and soon enough the conversation continues as if the initial question was never asked. Jeonghan is the only one to notice his friend’s displeased frown. He wonders if Josh is aware of the face he’s making. Probably not.

It’s true that you and Josh aren‘t dating, but you didn’t have to be so hasty to confirm that fact to Vernon. You also didn’t have to sound and act so indifferent when the question came up. It probably shouldn’t bother him as much as it does, but he can’t help the bitterness that fills his mouth when he keeps thinking about your response. To reduce what’s going on between you two as hanging out was borderline insulting. Sure, it was mainly sex, but there was an underlying intimacy to this thing you guys had.

But clearly, you didn’t seem to think so.

And why should it matter to him if you didn’t see it the way he did?

So what if Josh knows what kind of foods you like? So what if he knows that you prefer to be the big spoon when you two cuddle? So what if he knows that you’re majoring in computer science despite your parents being against it? So what if he knows that you never wanted to be a cheerleader, but only did it to please your mother? So what if he knows that you’re more than just a pretty face like everyone thinks?

None of that means you two are together or will be in the future. And that’s fine. In fact, it’s perfectly fine and doesn’t bother Joshua at all.

He’s the one who insisted on keeping things between you two casual, anyway. It was only natural for you to act like your relationship was only physical.

When Jeonghan invites him to the football game on Friday night, Josh isn’t sure why he agrees to go. He’s never been interested in football, and he certainly wasn’t now. However, to be able to see you in your cheer uniform was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. The sight alone feels worth it to him.

That is, until he sees the paint on your cheek.

Joshua feels like his jaw could snap from how hard he’s clenching it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he shouldn’t be so angry. It’s not like you two were even dating. But still, how could you write Kim fucking Mingyu’s number on your cheek? Did the time you two spend together mean nothing to you?

“Can you make it any more obvious?” Jeonghan wonders with a smirk.

Finally, Josh manages to take his eyes off of you to look at his friend. “What are you talking about?”

“We can all tell you’re mad, but aren’t you the one who told Y/N that you just wanted to fuck on the DL with no strings?”

Joshua isn’t a violent guy, but the urge to throttle his friend has never been stronger. Technically, yes, he did say that to you at one point. But he also didn’t go around flirting with other girls despite there not being anything between you two that went beyond a physical relationship. Not like how you were flirting with every jock that came by to say hi to you. Especially that stupid Mingyu guy.

“I just think her behavior is so high school. Who still does the number on the cheek thing?” Josh’s sulky scowl deepens when he watches you laugh along to something Mingyu said.

“Maybe it is.” Jeonghan has to physically stop himself from cackling. “But so is yours.”

Josh can’t really say anything because it’s true. He was acting like a jealous teenager whose actions were being dictated by spite. Still, one thing was certain. As soon as the game was over and he took you back to his place, he was going to remind you that no one was capable of fucking you he did.

You don’t think much of Josh’s silence when you get back to his place. Well, that’s not exactly true. Part of you is excited because it seemed like your friend’s cliche plan was actually working. Ever since you got drunk and let it slip to Mingyu that you had feelings for Josh, he made it his personal mission to play matchmaker. You were too embarrassed to say that you guys were actually fucking, but the feelings seemed to be one-sided.

Mingyu’s plan was a bit simple minded since it all depended on a tale as old as time—jealousy. He seemed so sure that he planned everything from the paint on your cheek to the “flirting” that took place at the game. You had doubted his methods right until Josh tells you to wash that stupid paint off your face.

“Make me.”

Those two words are enough to make your sweet little nerd snap.

Part of you slightly regrets it, but the larger part doesn’t because you absolutely love it when he’s rough and mean. Just like he’s being now as you’re sitting on his lap with nothing but your panties on.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” Joshua growls. His fingers are gripping the satin material of your panties so they’re pulled tautly and tightly against the throbbing flesh of your wet cunt.

“You think you’re cute flirting with that dumbass football player?” His words are punctured by another harsh tug to your underwear.

You shake your head, unable to believe your idiot friend was actually right. “Juh-Josh!”

He pulls you closer and gently nips at your jaw while his other hand keeps pulling at your underwear. Josh is entirely captivated with the way your swollen lips swallow the damp fabric. He smiles wolfishly when you start to tremble against him. It’s not long after that you feel the coil in your stomach snap, moaning loudly as you gush all over Josh’s jean-clad thigh.

But he’s hardly done. Joshua grips your hips and starts grinding your clothed cunt against his leg. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the overstimulation starts to become too much for you. Still, it’s not enough. It will never be enough until he splits you open on his cock. And he knows this, which is why he won’t give you what you want until he’s satisfied with your begging.

“Shua, please!” You whine pathetically. “Just fuck me already!”

This finally seems to be enough for him because soon a enough you find your face pressed against the mattress with Josh’s cock ramming into your sensitive cunt. A stinging swat comes down onto your arcing ass that’s already burning from the slaps he delivered to you earlier. It makes you moan out stupidly.

“What’s that?” His chuckle is cruel. “Did I already fuck you stupid?”

His hands are on your hips, forcing you back on to his cock roughly. The tip of his cock is slamming against your g-spot, and he groans when your walls squeeze his cock until you’re creaming on him for the second time.

Josh moans along with you as his cock keeps ravaging your tight little pussy. The euphoric feeling of his thick cock throbbing deep inside you with every languid stroke makes your creamy cunt squeeze him again as if it doesn’t want him to disconnect.

“Fuck, Y/N!” He moans as his hot cum spills inside you.

Another sharp strike connects with the globe of your ass. His large hand spread your cheeks as he roughly fucks his cum back into your sopping hole. Josh’s thrust abruptly slow, and for a second you think he’s done, but he only flips you over so his chest is pressed against yours.

A carnal heat clouds Josh’s mind when he sees your fucked out face gazing up at him. He starts fucking his cock back into your battered cunt.

“More.” You mewl, lifting you hips to meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby.” Josh growls as his cock plunges in and out of you, filling his room with a lewd squelching sound. “Beg for this fucking cock.”

The sharp buck of his strong hips clashing against your own forces your body to jolt upward at the rough contact. Josh fucks into your pussy as mercilessly as he can, desperate to have you think of him and only him.

All you can feel is his fat cock ramming into your insides, and you’re so fucking glad that you listened to Mingyu. “Don’t stop!”

“You’re squeezing me so tightly.” Josh sighs dreamily. “So perfect for me.”

“I-I’m gonna come.” You whimper as he starts pounding into you faster and harder than before.

His cock is so deep inside you, and you love every moment of it. You’ll never get enough.

“Mingyu can’t fuck you like this.” Josh suddenly growls as his pace reaches a new level of fast. “Only I can because this sweet cunt is all mine, right?”

You can only moan in response, eyes shutting tightly from the overwhelming amount of pleasure of Josh fucking into you. “All yours, baby. Only yours.”

Your words trigger both your orgasms, the only sound that can be heard in the room is his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fills you with his sticky cum. That emotion from before settles in his chest as you cling to him, refusing to let go.

Josh presses a gentle kiss to your temple, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

“Stay here tonight.” His whisper is soft as his arms tighten around you. “Please.”

Your heart clenches after hearing how desperate and vulnerable Josh sounds. Maybe it’s wishful thinking or post-sex bliss, but it makes an inexplicable warmth spread throughout your body. You gently run your nails along the nape of his neck before softly caressing his hair. “Okay.” You agree in a whisper. “I’ll stay.”

It simultaneously relieves and frustrates Josh that you don’t seem to notice how much affection he actually has for you despite being wrapped up in each other’s arms. Fleetingly, he considers telling you about the feelings consuming him, but he ultimately decides against it.

There’s always next time, after all.

“—heard Mingyu is going to confess to Y/N.”

Josh nearly trips over his feet when he’s walking to his next class and he catches the last part of a stranger’s conversation. It’s crazy for him to stop the random guy and demand to know how he knew this information. It’s even crazier for him to ditch his class to go to the spot the stranger mentions you and Mingyu are at.

He doesn’t remember the last time he ran this much or this fast. His lungs are burning, but he can’t care about that right now. Not when that stupid jock has you all alone with the intention of asking you out.

There’s a terrible jerk in his chest when he sees you and Mingyu together outside the library. You two are talking casually, and Josh’s mind is clouded with a feeling he vaguely acknowledges as jealousy. He won’t allow Kim Mingyu to confess to you at such a sacred place. Our place, he angrily thinks.

“Y/N.” Joshua says as calmly as he can once he’s close enough. “What are you doing?”

It’s a question that throws you off because you specifically remember mentioning that you were going to work on a project with a friend. He had been chill about it, even going as far as to invite you over after his last class of the day was over. The real question is what was he doing? You’ve never known Josh to skip out on any classes, and you weren’t sure why he was choosing now of all moments to do so.

“Mingyu and I—”

“Were having a private discussion.” Mingyu cuts in with a smirk that makes you want to smack him. “Do you mind?”

You knew you should’ve never confided in him with the feelings you harbored for Josh, but it’s too late to pout about drunken mistakes. Now he was going to try to stir shit up, and by the look Josh was giving him, it was working.

“I do.” Joshua seethes. “I need to talk to my girlfriend about something.”

It was more than likely that you had the dumbest look on your face at that moment. You can’t seem to hear anything other than the loud thrumming of your heart. It’s fluttering so hard that you feel like it might fly out of your chest at any moment.

You’ve known Mingyu long enough to know what he’s thinking. Despite the fact that Josh probably couldn’t beat him in a fight, you know the look he’s giving Mingyu had him feeling a bit intimidated. And yet, your idiot friend still sees no reason to stop his antics.

“Really?” Mingyu says through a laugh. “That’s funny because Y/N never mentioned that you two are going out. Since when have you been her boyfriend?”

“Since she took my virginity!”

Mingyu’s smirk slowly fades as he looks between you two with his mouth dropped open. You, on the other hand, feel like your eyes can’t get any wider. Heat burns your face as you realize that instead of being embarrassed or flustered, Josh is glaring at your friend with a challenging look in his eye. He makes no attempt to backtrack from his words, and it’s actually kind of embarrassing that you’ve never found him hotter than you did at this moment.

“Oh… okay.” Mingyu murmurs sheepishly as he brings his hand to rub the back of his neck. “My fault, bro. I didn’t know.”

It’s almost funny how this giant football player gets so flustered at the mention of sex when you know he sleeps with some random at least once a week. You don’t get a chance to laugh because I’m the next second, Josh’s large hand is grabbing your smaller one and guiding you away from Mingyu.

The walk back to his apartment is silent and a bit tense, but you two don’t make a move to let go of each other’s hand.

Once you two are inside his room, Josh finally releases your hand and turns his shining eyes on you. There’s a thick tension between you two, but oddly enough, you don’t mind it. You usually never mind anything when it comes to Joshua Hong.

“So, when were you planning on telling me that we’ve been dating this entire time?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head.

“I…” Josh feels his bravado from before slip away. “I didn’t plan to tell you about my feelings this way.”

He takes a deep breath and soldiers through the nerves eating away at him. “I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. It was stupid of me to try and deny it this entire time.”

It’s hard not to feel like you’re in the middle of a beautiful dream. To see Josh’s sparkling eyes looking at you with unadulterated affection makes the carnal heat in your mind snap. You grab the front of his shirt and pull him against you to press your lips against his.

The familiarity of your sweet lips on his puts Josh at ease. His movements are eager and tender, tongue grazing past your lips. Hearing you whimper makes him feel dazed and drunk.

When your hands brush against his growing bulge, Josh exhales shakily. Of course he has to give in to your unspoken request and starts to take off his clothes. It’s like second nature by this point, and before you know it, he has you spread out on his bed with his tongue shoved inside your hot cunt.

“I’ll never get tired of tasting this sweet pussy.” Josh groans, licking and sucking at your puffy clit.

Your nails graze his scalp as you shove his face deeper into your dripping cunt, desperate for release. “Feels so good, baby.”

The way you’re clenching around his tongue makes him smirk. You feel tight even on his tongue, and he can’t wait to feel you around his dick.

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” Josh asks with an impossibly wide smirk as your cunt sporadically clenches around his tongue. He spits on your cunt before lapping at it again, loving the loud moans you let out.

He doesn’t stop his movements until you come on his tongue. Like a starved man, he laps up every last drop of your release. Josh sits up, the remnants of your arousal covering his chin. The sight is so hot that you push him on his back and climb on top of him. You grip his cock before fully sinking down on it with a guttural moan.

“Fuck.” Josh whimpers.

You start to bounce on top of him, moaning wantonly as you feel the tip hit a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Joshua grips your lower back and rolls you into him to help you ride his cock. His teeth gently graze one of your nipples before he takes it in his mouth. The way he licks and nips at it makes your cunt clench down on his aching cock tighter. He loves how you’re squeezing him.

“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as you start to roughly buck your hips into his.

Joshua releases your nipple with a pop and focuses on making you come again. He angles his hips just right so the fat tip of his dick slams against your cervix as he starts to fuck up into you. The action is repeated until you’re creaming around his cock. That’s all it takes for him to shoot ropes and ropes of hot cum inside your sensitive cunt.

“I’ll never get enough of you.” He says as he gently pants into your neck.

You smirk at him, as his dick twitches inside you. “Prove it.”

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

kwanwoo said, “no toxic friends in this circle” 💯👏🏼

You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright)

Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Female Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, fake dating au, 90s au, ex-best friends au, and heavily based off the movie You Drive Me Crazy

Word Count: 15.2k (IM SO SORRY🙃 )

Warnings: language, mentions of terminal illness and death, bullying, drinking, drunken bad ideas, mentions of medicine, cheating, breakups, general college debauchery, making fun of furs in the fashion industry (used only to go with the 90s vibes), lots of feelings and oppressing them, jokes and conversations about sex, making out and kissing, and mentions of vomiting.

Smut Warnings: a little dry humping, semi public sex in a backyard treehouse? and protected sex (honestly the smut in this is pretty vanilla)

Rating: 18+

A/N: After forever, I’m excited to present this fic to you. I have never written anything this long before so once again I am sorry. Thank you to @beomcoups and @mingsolo for hosting the Now That’s 90’s! collab, as a 90s kid myself it was my pleasure to participate. Please go check out all the other amazing writers who joined as well!

Special thanks to Indi @playmetheclassics and Sammie @slightlymore for beta reading this monster for me. You guys are the best and I love you 💕 ~Bee

Network tags: @kbookshelf

With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror, you grabbed your bookbag from the chair in the corner of your room. You headed down the long curved staircase before opening the front door of the sorority house. 

You were almost going to be late, and to make matters worse, you came face-to-face with your enemy at the end of the driveway. Which wasn’t that unusual since he walked this way too, despite living further away, but you tried your best to avoid him anyway.

“Ew, what are you doing here?” Jihoon asks, walking past you at the driveway and lifting his lip in disgust.

“I live at the sorority, remember, asshole?” you spat, hating the fact that you had to walk in the same direction to get to campus. You two had been this way for a long time now, and it had become a habit to be prickly toward him. 

It hadn’t always been like that, though. In fact, you guys used to be best friends, completely inseparable. At least until his mom got sick when you were in junior high, and he started hanging out with some different people and getting into trouble. You then got in with the popular kids, and you and Jihoon have become enemies ever since. 

You two walked stiffly beside each other as you reached the edge of campus, and Jihoon’s friends appeared. Seokmin put him in a small headlock, and Seungkwan gave you a small smile while Wonwoo just shook his head. You actually knew his three best friends as well. You all used to hang out way back when. You smiled meekly back before arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your boyfriend, Johnny, had found you as well. 

“Hey, babe,” Johnny said, smacking a kiss near your ear. You resisted the urge to cringe. He was in the popular crowd too, a football player. While he wasn’t that bad and was easy on the eyes, he was boring, only caring about football and whatever party was next to attend. You missed having someone with a level of intelligence, someone you could debate things with like you used to do with Jihoon. It didn’t matter, though. You were enemies now, and nothing would change that. 

You made it through your first few classes, and you were having lunch in the courtyard with Johnny along with what you considered the entire popular crew, including your best friend, Jennie. You sat at a long table, eating a sandwich while everyone talked about the next football game and a party at Mingyu’s that was happening later. 

Across the courtyard, you spotted Jihoon in your line of vision, his girlfriend pushing him against the concrete wall, practically sucking his face off. You swallowed a bite of your sandwich, trying not to gag. Just as you turned away from the sight, Seungkwan was walking past. Before you could stop him, Johnny pretended to accidentally put his foot out in front of him. Seungkwan tripped over it, dropping the food he was carrying all over the ground and falling forward. The entire table erupted in laughter as Johnny retracted his foot like it had never been there. “Having trouble walking, Kwannie?” Johnny’s best friend, Mark heckled.

Seungkwan looked at Mark and Johnny with loathing. You got up, giving Johnny and Mark a glare. “What? We were only having some fun,” Johnny said innocently. You threw what was left of your food in the trash and walked over to Seungkwan. You stuck your hand out, letting him grab it and helped him up from the ground. 

“Thanks, Y/N. You know you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I know, Seungkwan, but it’s not like I hate you too,” you said softly.

“See you around,” he said, a sad smile on his face before he walked out of the courtyard.

Later that evening, you were getting ready for Mingyu’s party with Jennie because both she and Johnny insisted you had to appear. “So, our sorority ball is coming up…do you think Johnny is going to ask you soon?” Jennie asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s going to. I mean, who else would I go with?” you said, brushing off her question. You were helping plan the entire thing, and he knew it was important, so there wasn’t any reason why he wouldn’t be asking you. 

She nodded, but her face said she was skeptical. “What about you? Has anyone asked you yet?” You turned the question around on her.

“No, but I’m sure Mingyu or Taeyong will ask. It’s not like I don’t have options,” she bragged, and you struggled to hide your contempt. While you were part of the popular crowd, Jennie had always been the most popular. Others were more drawn to her than you.

You escaped the rest of the conversation with Jennie when it was interrupted by a honking sound, indicating Johnny was there to pick the two of you up to go to the party. You both walked outside and as you approached his truck, you heard music blasting out of the open windows. Mark was in the front passenger seat while you and Jennie slipped in the back with Mark’s girlfriend, Miyeon.

Miyeon waved at you and you barely got your seatbelt on before the truck lurched forward, making its way down the road towards Mingyu’s house. “Who’s ready to dominate at pong tonight?” Mark bragged.

“Yeahhhhh,” Johnny enthused, reaching over to bump Mark’s fist with his. You rolled your eyes and looked over at Jennie. She just shrugged at you like it wasn’t as big of an annoyance as you were making it out to be.

The truck swung into the driveway of Mingyu’s house, and as Johnny cut the engine, it was replaced by the louder sounds of the house party. More music blasted from the back of the house where the pool was, and you could hear the sounds of splashing along with the hum of many people conversing at once. 

You followed behind Johnny as you weaved through the house, making your way to the kitchen for a drink. The large island was littered with many types of alcohol and random snacks. The signature punch bowl filled with some sort of pink liquid had also made its usual appearance, but you had made that mistake enough times and knew better enough to stay far away from it. 

You grabbed a red solo cup from the stack on the counter, making a mixed drink out of some random soda and liquor that sounded decent. It looked like Johnny had done the same and was pulling you by the hand to go out in the backyard where Mingyu and the rest of their buddies were. Jennie was already cozying up and dancing with some guy you didn’t recognize, likely from another university.

Meanwhile, Jihoon was on a date with his girlfriend, Shayla at a weird little bar across ton. Well, it was supposed to be a date, but all Jihoon had done was down beers while Shayla listened to some guy on the stage in front drone on about how real furs were being used in the fashion industry.

Jihoon hated how Shayla was looking at this guy, like he was the one single-handedly stopping the usage of real furs. Never mind the fact that she was on a date with Jihoon, her boyfriend. Jihoon scowled as he chugged beer after beer. 

He didn’t even notice how drunk he was until he got up and the room started spinning slightly. Stumbling over his chair, he looked over to find that Shayla had gone to the edge of the stage and was actively flirting with the fur guy. Jihoon needed to go to the bathroom and then he needed to get out of there. 

As he was washing his hands in the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and realized he had started to sober up rather quickly, but he had ridden here with Shayla. Jihoon found the pay phone near the door of the bar. The opening and closing of the door created cold rushes of air, sobering him even more. He called one of his best friends, who also happened to be a designated driver for when the popular kids had parties. 

After feeding the pay phone the correct amount of coins and dialing the number, Wonwoo’s voice picked up after a few rings. “Jihoooonnnn, what’s up?” Wonwoo asked.

“Can you come get me from that stupid bar Shayla likes? I drank, and Shayla drove here,” Jihoon explained. 

“And you aren’t coming back with her?” Wonwoo questioned. Jihoon looked back toward the table he had been at with Shayla, only to find her making out with the fur dude.

“No, we broke up,” he said, bitterly. 

Wonwoo sighed. “Alright, I’ll come get you before we head to pick someone up at Mingyu’s party,” he said before hanging up. 

Jihoon hung up the line on his end and made a beeline back to where Shayla was. He tapped on her shoulder, breaking her from the make-out session, and immediately her face turned into one of someone who had been caught.

“We’re done, Shayla,” Jihoon said, rather dryly. He turned on his heel, not waiting for a reaction from her and walked out of the bar to wait for Wonwoo outside in the parking lot. 

When Jihoon was busy drowning in beers at the bar, you were also having an unfortunate turn of events. The party started out fine, you were having a good time dancing with Johnny and it progressed into being his partner for beer pong against Mark and Miyeon. 

Unfortunately, you and Johnny were losing. It started out okay, Johnny was being a bit of a gentleman and was drinking for you, but that was leaving him pretty smashed. It was Mark’s turn and he had gotten the ball in another cup, making Johnny drink yet another cup of beer. 

Johnny stumbled backward, spilling most of the contents of his cup on a girl who was walking behind him. It was like a scene from a movie, you watched as Johnny apologized to her and their eyes met each other’s. Anyone around could have seen the immediate connection. 

You originally tried to brush it off but with Johnny being as drunk as he was, it was apparent that something was bound to happen. Later, when you had come inside to use the bathroom, you would find Johnny and that girl sucking face right next to the bathroom door.

A screamed breakup and way too many drinks later, Jennie had called a designated driver to take you home. You sat on Mingyu’s front porch, sulking and watching the world spin when Wonwoo’s car pulled up. 

“Hey there, Y/N,” Wonwoo said, getting out of the driver's seat and approaching you on the porch. You gave him a nonchalant peace sign before noticing he had another passenger in the car. 

“Oh, great. That’s just the thing to top off my night, being stuck in a car with Jihoon while I’m drunk,” you said sarcastically, letting Wonwoo lead you down the steps and toward the car.

“I know, Y/N, but he called me too, and he is my friend as well. Try to bear with it, and you’ll be home soon enough,” Wonwoo said, knowing full well the relationship, or rather hate-ship, between you and Jihoon.

You rolled your eyes but slid into the seat next to Jihoon as Wonwoo shut the door after you. “Seriously, Wonwoo? This is who you needed to pick up from Mingyu’s party?” Jihoon’s annoyance was evident. Already tired from your rant, Wonwoo just gave him a hard stare in the rearview mirror. 

Leaving the party, the car was silent until Wonwoo brought up the reason for picking you up. “Y/N, you aren’t one to get that drunk at these parties. Jennie may have mentioned something happened..” 

You pulled your sweater around you and grumbled. “Johnny got too drunk, and after some weird drama connection shit, I found him and a girl from another university making out. He claims they ‘fell in love’,” you explained, using air quotes at the end. 

“So you broke up?” Jihoon’s question surprised you, but you were too tired and drunk to actively be rude to him

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confirmed.

“Seems to be the theme tonight,” Wonwoo mused from the front seat.

Confused, you looked over at Jihoon who was picking at his hands and looking at something particularly enthralling on the floor of the automobile. So, he and Shayla must have broken up as well. You felt that was interesting since they seemed attached at the hip, attached at the mouth too. Jihoon looked out the window now, and you saw a hurt in his eyes that he so seldom showed, but it was a familiar vulnerability that you remember from when you were kids. 

“We’re here, Y/N,” Wonwoo announced, and you realized he had pulled up in front of your sorority house. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or being in an enclosed space with Jihoon that messed with your perception of time, but you were home quicker than you expected.

“Oh. Um, thanks, Wonwoo,” you mumbled, pushing the passenger door of the car open.

“Are you good? Can you get to the door okay?” Wonwoo asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, swinging your heavy-feeling feet out of the car before shutting the door a little harder than you meant to.

Jihoon watched as you stumbled down the walkway and nearly smacked yourself in the knee when you opened the front door of the sorority, a chuckle escaping him. “Was that a laugh I heard?” Wonwoo asked, turning around in his seat to scrutinize Jihoon’s expression.

“No…” Jihoon mumbled and cleared his throat. Wonwoo just shook his head, turned back to the front and pulled away from the sorority house to drop off his friend. 

“So, are you really that broken up about Shayla?” Wonwoo inquired, filling the five-minute drive with conversation.

“Honestly? Not really. I’m more upset about the way we broke up rather than the actual break up,” Jihoon explained, his hand running at his bangs in annoyance.

“Seriously. Out of everyone she could have kissed, it was some dumb activist guy at the bar. Now that you guys are over, I can say this, but Seok, Seungkwan, and I didn’t really think she fit with you. You deserve so much better,” Wonwoo ranted on Jihoon’s behalf.

The car had pulled up in Jihoon’s driveway while they were talking, and Jihoon slapped a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder as he got up from the backseat. “Thanks, Woo. I know you guys didn’t care for her much, so now it’s ancient history,” Jihoon said, leaving Wonwoo alone in the car and making his way up his front porch steps.

He had barely gotten into the house and gone up the stairs to his room to flop onto his bed when the phone rang. “No, Seokmin. For the final time, we are not adding dancing suns to the music video edit,” Jihoon said into the phone automatically, not even bothering to say a greeting first.

“Uh, what?” you asked, confused.

Hearing your voice on the other line caused Jihoon to sit upright immediately. “Y/N? How did you get this number?” he questioned, surprised. 

“I remembered it..” you said, softly. As much as you hated Jihoon, your memories of your childhood remained, and that included his phone number. 

“Oh. So..why are you calling?” he asked, falling back onto his bed.

“I had an idea. What if...we dated each other?” You stated your idea, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“What if we what? Y/N, you’re drunk,” Jihoon exclaimed.

“I'm not anymore, just hear me out. Not really dating but just pretending so that we could get what we wanted. I’d get to go to the sorority dance that I worked hard to plan and maintain my status while making Johnny jealous, and you’d get to show Shayla that she made a big mistake,” you blurted out your crazy idea.

“I don't know where you got this insane idea, but you should drink some water and take an ibuprofen for the nasty headache you’ll have in the morning,” he said, sighing.

“I’m serious, just think about it okay? Goodnight, Ji,” you said, his old nickname rolling off your tongue easily. 

Jihoon sighed again, “Good night, Y/N,” and he hung up the phone before falling asleep.

Your sleep was invaded by the sunlight shining in through your window, and as you opened your eyes, the splitting headache that resulted from last night's events made itself known. You sat up in bed slowly, pressing the palm of your hand against your eyes as if that would help when you remembered your phone call last night with Jihoon. He told you to drink water and take an ibuprofen.

You got up sluggishly and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing the cup that you left on the counter for when you got thirsty in the middle of the night. You filled it with water from the sink and found the ibuprofen bottle that was kept in the cabinet, spilling two pills into your palm. You popped them in your mouth and knocked them back, taking a drink of the water to swallow them. 

As you took a second drink of water for good measure, the rest of your conversation with Jihoon passed through your memories, and you spit water all over the mirror in front of you. You knew that you had been thinking how pretending to date each other would be an option, but you didn’t think you would actually ask him to do it. Apparently, drunken Y/N thought otherwise and had straight up called him and asked him to do it.

You smacked yourself in the forehead, making your head feel worse. “Well, it’s been said. And he didn’t agree to it yet, so let’s see what happens,” you murmured to yourself, resigned to the fact that it had indeed been said and maybe he wouldn’t go for it. No sense in being embarrassed about something you barely remember saying.

Which is why you didn’t expect to have Jihoon standing in front of you in the campus cafe on Monday morning saying, “I’ll do it,” causing you to spit your drink out for the second time in three days.

“You’ll what?” you asked, incredulous, as you wiped the coffee you sprayed all over the table in front of you. 

Jihoon sighed, not wanting to repeat himself. “I said, I’ll do it. Let’s fake date,” he repeated anyway, slowly to make his words heard. You blinked and just stared at him, absorbing what he just said. He stared back, his eyes boring into yours, and you saw no sign of his usual pettiness or jokes.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, “but we should have some rules.”

“Agreed,” he said, sitting down next to you now.

“Okay….” you said, mulling over what those rules would actually be. “Alright, you’ll need a makeover. No one would believe we are together looking like…this,” you continued, gesturing at his overall self.

“Like what, Y/N?” Jihoon asked, even though he knew full well what you meant.

“We need to make it seem like you are someone I’d go for,” you said, trying to make your case.

“Fine, but I will not like it,” he replied with a glare, and you let out a little triumphant smile. “So then the other rule is that we have an easy out clause,” he said, offering a rule of his own.

“An easy out clause?” you questioned. 

“Yeah. So we can end the fake relationship at any time for any reason, and there won’t be any hard feelings. Other than the ones we already have for each other, of course,” Jihoon continued.

“Alright, an easy out clause,” you agreed. You let the awkward silence stew between the two of you for a bit before you spoke once more. “We both have classes until 4 pm today and then I have some work for the ball to do…are you free tomorrow night?”

“I think so, but why?” he asked, skeptically.

“So we can take care of the first rule, your makeover,” you replied.

Jihoon grimaced. “Okay, meet me in front of my house at 6 pm tomorrow,” he said, getting up and stuffing his hands in his pockets before leaving for his class. You attempted to finish what was left of your coffee and head off to your next class as well.

The next day at 6 pm, like promised, you were standing in front of a very familiar house from your childhood-Jihoon’s house. While you joined a sorority and lived on campus, Jihoon still lived here with his dad. Not only was it close to the university, but you figured some part of him didn’t want to leave his dad alone. 

You took a deep breath and walked up the front steps, ringing the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing Jihoon’s dad. “Well hello, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” he said, opening the door further to let you step inside. 

“Hi Mr. Lee,” you said, standing in the foyer rather awkwardly. Honestly, the last time you stepped foot in this house was the day of Mrs. Lee’s funeral. It was also the last time you and Jihoon acted like friends.

“Ji should be down in a minute,” Mr Lee said, leaving you and going back into the kitchen. You looked down at your feet, rocking back and forth on your heels until you heard the creaking of the stairs. Jihoon looked like his usual self, wearing jeans and a band tee. You couldn’t help but smile. However, if the two of you dating were to seem real then he needed to fit in with the popular crowd. And that started with a look that aligned with that.

Jihoon cleared his throat, suddenly standing in front of you, and you realized you must have spaced out. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, we should get going,” you said. He grabbed his car keys from the small table near the door before ushering you back through the front door and closing it behind him. He also opened the passenger door of the car for you, making you quirk an eyebrow at his actions. His only response was a shrug of the shoulders. 

After you were both settled in the car he asked, “So where to?”

“The mall,” you responded with an excited smile.

Jihoon groaned, “Are you trying to kill my reputation as a geek?” You blinked, surprised at his joking tone before letting out a giggle.

“Precisely,” you answered, laughing once more. Jihoon started the car, driving toward the demise of his geekdom, or at least the image of it.

After about fifteen minutes had passed, he pulled into the parking lot of the city mall, also known as the place where all the popular kids shopped and hung out. 

You walked into the large, store-filled building with Jihoon trailing behind you. Pausing at the entrance, you thought about what you needed to do first. “New outfits,” you pondered out loud. You looked over at Jihoon who was mashing his lips together and you grabbed the edge of his shirt, pulling him with you to the first clothing store.

You deposited him in the middle of the store, near the dressing rooms. Jihoon stood there almost in awe as you swirled around the store, picking up different combinations of pants and shirts to create outfits for him to try on. He was already exhausted, and he hadn’t even tried anything on yet.

After what felt like forever, you returned, holding up multiple outfits for him. He sighed, something he was doing a lot when he was with you. “The sooner you try them on, the sooner we can be done,” you said, trying to sound motivating. Lucky for you, he knew you were right and took the hangers of clothes from you. He trudged into the dressing room and shut the door behind him.

You made him come out after every outfit, much to his annoyance. You rather enjoyed it, clapping and smiling for most of the outfits. You were proud of yourself for picking things out that made him look the perfect mix of sophisticated and casual. You gathered all the outfits that worked and brought them up to the checkout counter, once again with Jihoon trailing behind you. 

Coming to stand next to you, Jihoon went to take his wallet out of his pocket, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. It was my idea for the makeover,” you said, handing money to the cashier as she placed his new clothes in a bag. She handed the bag to you.

“Are you sure?” Jihoon asked.

“I’m sure,” you confirmed, handing the bag of clothes over to him. As you pulled your hand away, your stomach let out a few grumbles. 

He let out an amused snort and said, “This place has a food court, right?” You nodded, and your stomach grumbled some more. “Let’s get some food then.” 

You led the way toward the center of the mall, where all the food smells were coming from and a few minutes later, the two of you sat across from each other at a table with pieces of pizza in front of you. Another memory with Jihoon crossed your mind as you chewed a piece of the cheesy slice. “You remember the time Seungkwan’s mom specially bought that only cheese pizza for him at your birthday party and when he fell asleep early, we ate it all?” you asked, a smirk gracing your face as you remembered your childhood antics.

“He was so mad. He didn’t talk to us for like a week and then hid his pizza the next time there was a party,” Jihoon laughed. It grew silent again after that, not exactly an awkward silence but not a comfortable one either. You were nearly done with your pizza when Jihoon asked another question. “This makeover doesn’t include other things, like cutting my hair or something?” 

You looked up at him. You looked at his slightly shaggy black hair and his bangs that lightly brushed over his forehead. You didn’t know what possessed you, but you reached forward and grazed you fingered through the ends of his hair. Your eyes locked and instead of the growling it had done earlier, your stomach did flip flops. You panicked slightly and abruptly pulled your hand away.  “No, I don’t think we need to change anything else..” you said, looking down at the table.

Before things could get weirder, you two finished eating and left the mall with your mission accomplished. 

The car was quiet as it sat in the driveway of your sorority and Jihoon wondered why you hadn’t taken your seatbelt off to get out of the car yet. You were struggling, debating whether you wanted to tell him something that you had thought about telling him for ages. What better time than to say it now, a day when you spent the most time with him than you had in years? 

“Listen, Jihoon…” you started in a bit of a solemn tone. He turned to look at you. “When your mom got sick, I just didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Then at her funeral, I wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even if I could. And then you started getting in trouble at school and hanging out with other people. I’m just…I’m sorry.” 

Jihoon gave a wry smile after listening to your whole blurted speech. “It’s okay, I get it,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do or how to feel either, and then eventually we became…enemies sorta?” 

You nodded. “How about we be, uh, frenemies now, I guess?”

He snorted at that. “Frenemies,” he agreed.

Eventually, you took off your seatbelt and opened the car door. Before you fully shut it, you peeked your head in to remind Jihoon of your next plans. “Remember, we should be seen together at the football game tomorrow and then at the diner with my friends after.” 

He cringed but said, “Okay, see you tomorrow then,” and you shut the car door before watching him pull out of the driveway.

A few hours before the football game you mentioned to Jihoon that you were in the journalism room with Jennie, Miyeon, and a few other girls who were part of the ball planning committee. You were trying to finalize the theme so that you could get started on getting the decorations. The ball was held at the same place every year, so you didn’t have to worry about that, at least. Everyone was set on their own idea for the theme, and no one could come to a decision, making you massage your temples in frustration. 

You were really regretting not grabbing that coffee before this meeting when the very thing you wanted appeared in front of you. A iced coffee was sat in front of you and you looked up to find Jihoon, looking nonchalant with his hands in his pockets like always. “Thanks. How did you know I was here?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “I was here working in the editing room on something with Seungkwan and Wonwoo and saw you were still here. I thought you could probably use the caffeine.” You squinted at him before slowly taking a drink of the coffee, wondering if he had some sort of other motive. Then he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I’m just trying to make it look like we didn’t, you know, suddenly go from hating each other to dating. So, just go with it.”

Of course, there it was. He couldn’t have really just thought to bring it to you for no reason at all other than just because. You were supposed to be fake dating starting today, so he needed to make it look true. 

Arguing between Jennie and Miyeon brought you back to reality, and you sighed. “Guys!” you snapped, making them both stop midargument. “Look, it’s almost time for the game and we should be there. Let’s try and come to an agreement by next week. If that’s not possible, then I’ll be making the final decision, by myself,” you said. Miyeon looked surprised at your unusual forcefulness while Jennie just looked, well annoyed. 

You grabbed what was left of the coffee Jihoon brought you and him by the arm. “We should get over to the stadium,” you said and left the room with the others, wondering what was up with you, or more importantly you and him. 

“Okay, chill,” Jihoon said, pulling his arm back from you once you were in the hall.

“Sorry,” you said, letting him pull his arm back. You looked up at him, finally noticing that he was also wearing one of the outfits you had picked out the day before. You smiled at him.

“What?” he asked, wondering why the heck you were smiling at him like a weirdo in the middle of the hallway.

“I didn’t think you would be wearing the clothes yet,” you responded.

“I thought that was the deal? Now come on, let’s watch some stupid game and start this dating thing in front of your friends.” Jihoon grabbed your hand, leading you down the hall and out the door to head to the football stadium. Why was your heart feeling funny?

An hour later, Jihoon was sitting next to you in the bleachers complaining in your ear about how “all a football game is, is an excuse for dudes to touch other dudes' butts.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Go, Fight, Win!” A chant had started in the stadium and was gaining more people with it. After about the third round of the chant, you joined, smirking at Jihoon. He looked at you chanting with your other friends that sat nearby and shook his head. You nudged him, smiling like a maniac. 

Rolling his eyes, he finally joined with a monotone, “Go, Fight, Win!” and a half-hazard fist pump in the air. Then something happened. Watching the game, feeling the excitement of the crowd, and seeing you sitting next to him, enjoying yourself; he thought maybe this wasn’t so bad, fun even. Next thing he knew, as the chant ended he was taking turns shouting insults at the refs with Mark and high-fiving him. 

You looked at him. It was peculiar. All that fuss and now he was fitting in like he had been a part of the group from the beginning. You couldn’t help but think that it could have been this way all along, as if you and Jihoon never had been enemies. 

After the game, you and Jihoon made an official new couple appearance at the diner your friends often frequented after games. You had barely sat down in the group booth with your food when Jennie pounced. “So after seeing you two together twice today, I need to ask. Are you two like a thing now?” she asked, pointing between the two of you. You nodded. Jennie gave a look of distaste. “How on earth did that happen?” 

“So, remember the night at Mingyu’s party when Johnny and I broke up and I got drunk, you called me a designated driver? Well, Jihoon had also called Wonwoo and was in the car too. It just sort of happened?” you explained. None of that was technically wrong at all, that was what happened. You just left out the part about the drunken phone call later and you know, the fact that it was fake. 

Jennie looked over at Jihoon, who had his mouth full of fries. “Yeah, pretty much,” Jihoon confirmed with his mouth full and Jennie gave a slightly disgusted look. Seeming satisfied with that answer, Jennie left it alone and conversation flowed around the table. Mark, Mingyu, and Jihoon were debating things about a video game and you found yourself smiling once again at the fact that they seemed to be getting along well.

Yet, your smile fell when you looked at the other side of the table to see Johnny and his new girlfriend making out. You didn’t know why, but tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes. “I’ll be right back, bathroom,” you mumbled. Jihoon heard the tone in your voice and the sheen in your eyes and was pulled from his video game conversation. He immediately saw what likely upset you, and decided he needed to do something about it when you came back.

In the bathroom, you splashed water on your face and hoped that would help regain your composure. You took a few deep breaths and made sure there was no trace of your sudden tear-up before heading back out to the table. As you sat back down next to Jihoon, he asked “Everything okay, babe?” He wrapped an arm over your shoulders pulling you close to him and placed a peck on your forehead. 

Babe? Your brain malfunctioned and you were frozen at Jihoon’s side. “Y/N….” he hissed in your ear and you broke from your stupor. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’m good,” you answered. He must be doing this for show, to make it really look like you were dating and to make Johnny jealous, right? It had to be that, of course.

“So, you’re friends with DD Wonwoo, right?” Mark was asking Jihoon now.

“Yeah, we are friends. And it’s Wonwoo, not DD Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo,” he answered and you could hear irritation starting in his voice.

“Cool, you think he’d be down to be the designated driver for all our parties? We’ll pay.” Jihoon’s body tensed at the question.

“Okayyyyy,” you said the minute Mark finished his sentence, getting up and pulling Jihoon out of the booth with you. “It’s getting late and I’m tired. We’ll see you guys later,” you rushed out before dragging Jihoon out of the diner with you and leaving what was left of your food on the table.

“What the hell was that? Wonwoo has probably saved the lives of half those people in there and what? They just want to continue getting drunk off their rockers and think throwing money at him is compensation for that?” Jihoon was fuming. He was pacing back and forth in the parking lot, tugging his hand through his hair. 

“Jihoon…” you started. 

“Who do they think they are? Do they have no integrity? Did they trade their brains for being popular?” He continued to rant.

“Jihoon!” you said again, sharper this time.

“What?!” he shouted and you flinched slightly.

You didn’t know why, but you felt the urge to comfort him and calm him down. And to apologize even. You came up next to him, brushing his hand with yours, and said, “I’m sorry.” Jihoon’s breathing calmed down and his eyes met yours. “Endure it for me, please? I promise you and Wonwoo can do something mean to him the next time he’s drunk, okay?” you said. 

Jihoon cracked a smile at that. “Fine…” he responded and stalked over to the car so he could get the two of you back home.

You and Jihoon had made appearances at a few other things during the week, but as Friday approached there was actually one you were looking forward to the most. It was starting to get warmer, which meant some days were spent soaking up the sun at the river.

The ball’s committee had also taken your previous threat about choosing the theme on your own seriously and had finally come to a consensus. The theme was Moments in Time and you were looking forward to downtime with your friends before having to plan more for the ball. Maybe you were looking forward to downtime with Jihoon too. 

This time you were all riding with Mingyu in his jeep, floats and picnic supplies strapped to the utility bar on top of the vehicle. He had come to pick you up with everyone else in the car but Jihoon and he would be picked up last. Which meant that when Mingyu honked at Jihoon’s house, the only seat left in the car was in the backseat, squished in the middle next to you.

Squeezing in next to you, you became immediately aware of his bare legs pressing against your own. He was in the swim trunks you had picked out for him and a t-shirt, already prepared for the day's activities. “Ouch,” you said as he accidentally pinched your arm between him and the seat. 

“I’m sorry, is this better?” Jihoon asked, moving his arm over your shoulders so that you could settle next to him. 

You swallowed down the butterflies that were now becoming a common occurrence when you were with him. You were still doing everything you could to ignore them. It was just the proximity and situation making you feel that way. You didn’t actually like him. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

You didn’t dare speak words out loud, afraid it would come out garbled or as a squeak. You just nodded in response, the warming of your cheeks still threatening to give you away. Throughout the entire drive to the river, you were painfully aware of how much his body was touching yours.

When Mingyu pulled into the parking lot of the River Park, you nearly flung yourself out of the car causing both Jihoon and Jennie to look at you like you were insane. As the others got out of the car, you moved your attention to retrieving your things from the back. You grabbed your bag, which held a swim towel, sunscreen, and a few snacks.

More bags were grabbed, leaving the trunk area empty while Mark and Mingyu worked on getting the other things down from the rack on the roof. You waited until everything had been taken before walking down the path that led to the larger bank of the river. The area was a little rocky but many of the rocks were big enough to lay blankets and towels on. 

You spotted one big enough for multiple people to spread out on and it was also close enough to the river itself, which would make it easy to get in and out of the water. It was decided the girls would take the spot you found and the boys would hang out on the next one over. You spread your towel out, setting your bag near the front and slipping your sandals off on the other end to weigh it down before settling down on it in a cross-legged position.

Jennie and Miyeon put their things out next to you, while Jihoon was helping Mark and Mingyu set their chairs out on the other rock. You leaned backward on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face while chatting about things every once in a while with Jennie and Miyeon. You had tuned them out a little when Miyeon started talking about Mark’s sexual habits, comparing them with things Jennie’s many partners had done. Not only did you not want to know those things about Mark, but you didn’t really have anything to contribute since you and Jihoon obviously weren't on that level.

“Y/N? What about you and Jihoon?” Miyeon asked, bringing your attention back to the conversation. 

“Well….it’s a secret,” you answered, trying to be as elusive as possible so you didn’t have to try and come up with more lies than needed.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Jennie goaded. “You cleaned Jihoon up so nicely, I'm sure you’ve had a piece of that.”

You looked at your best friend in annoyance. “Jihoon is a private person, I’d rather not discuss our sex life,” you responded. Miyeon seemed to understand but the look on Jennie’s face was like she took your response as a challenge.

The boys were having a similar conversation over at their rock, with Mingyu bragging about his latest endeavors. Jihoon didn’t really understand the need to boast about the subject as if it were a competition. “But what about Y/N, though?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Jihoon.

“What about her?” Jihoon questioned.

“She’s hot. You’d be stupid not to get a little ‘something, something’ while dating her,” Mingyu continued.

Jihoon narrowed his eyes, “Even if I have, Y/N has feelings too and I’m not going to divulge her sex life without her permission.” 

“Okay, dude. I was just trying to make conversation,” Mingyu surrendered, putting his hands up as a white flag. 

Mark took that as a sign for him and Mingyu to grab some floaties and go hang out in the river. Jihoon had brought his walkman and slipped on the headphones, going into his own little music world. Miyeon and Jennie had grown quiet now and were tanning behind you.

After scooting forward on your towel, you stuck your feet in the cool river water and let yourself relax a bit. You looked over to find Mark and Mingyu having a war on the floaties, both trying to push the other off and into the water. You shook your head at their antics and moved your feet back and forth in the water, creating a calming effect for yourself.

You weren’t sure how long you were all hanging out there but eventually Mingyu mentioned that you should all get home and you started packing things up. You looked over to find Jihoon gone from his previous spot.

Your eyes wandered around the river bank area and you finally spotted him, playing with two younger kids. “Oh noooo, you got me,” you heard him exclaim in mock upset. The two kids were squirting him with water from the super soakers they each had, both giggling the more exaggerated Jihoon sounded. 

He moved, chasing them around and getting revenge with his own super soaker. You couldn’t help but smile at the pure joy you saw on his face as he played with them. He looked so at ease with them. You thought that maybe you really were starting to fall for him, but if you were then you couldn’t keep up this fake dating ruse. You promptly shook the thoughts from your head. 

“Come on Captain Kangaroo, our ride is leaving,” you shouted across the bank. He looked up at your voice and shot you a devastatingly adorable smile that showed off his dimples. He gave the water gun back to the kids and he ruffled their hair, telling them he had fun. 

He jogged to where you were, saying “Okay, let’s get going.” He picked up his things from the rock he and the boys were on earlier and the two of you headed back up the path to Mingyu’s jeep. All the items you had brought had been put back in the trunk and everyone was just waiting for you and Jihoon so you could head back home. You two were squished against each other again, in a similar position as on the way there. However, you weren’t paying attention to that part as much now that the scene of him playing with the kids earlier kept replaying in your head. Before you knew it, you all had been dropped off at your respective residences and it was time to settle down for the evening. 

Jihoon had just walked in the door when his dad appeared holding the house phone. “Ah, good timing. Jihoon just came in, Seungkwan. Here,” he said, holding the phone out for Jihoon to take. 

“Hey, Kwan. What’s up?” Jihoon said into the phone, bringing it up the stairs to his room with him. 

“The Pixies are playing at the bar tomorrow night. Come with Seokmin, Wonwoo, and I,” Seungkwan said.

“I don’t know. I think one of Y/N’s friends is having a party that we are supposed to go to.”

Seungkwan sighed heavily. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but you’ve changed. You used to hang out with us, you know, your best friends, all the time and now you're always with Y/N and her group of populars. Are we not good enough for you anymore, Jihoon?” 

“Jesus, Seungkwan. No, I haven’t changed. I don’t like hanging out with them, I’m just there to make Y/N happy and somewhat get along with them.” Jihoon explained, annoyance tingeing his voice. 

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan gave a flippant response.

“Tell you what, I’ll talk to Y/N and see if we can come with you guys to the concert instead. Okay?” Jihoon compromised.

“Fine, let me know later,” Seungkwan conceded.

“Okay, bye.” Jihoon hung up the phone and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t think he was changing at all. He wasn’t fitting in with that crowd, was he? He was only pretending so that you two could fake date, right? 

Jihoon picked the cordless phone back up from the bed where he flung it after saying goodbye to Seungwan and dialed your number.

“Hello?” your voice sounded from the other end.

“Hey,” Jihoon said.

“Jihoon? You usually don’t call me first,” you mentioned.

“I know, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…” you responded, a little confused.

“I know we are supposed to go to another party tomorrow but do you think we could do something with my friends instead? I feel like we only do things with your friends,” he complained.

You let out a rush of air. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” Jihoon asked, surprised you agreed that easily.

“Yeah, you’re right. And it seems weird for a couple to hang out with only one group of friends. Plus, they used to be my friends too…” you trailed off.

“Alright, then there’s a band we follow playing at a bar we go to. Seungkwan invited us and both Wonwoo and Seokmin will be there too. I can come get you at 5 pm tomorrow,” he told you.

“Sounds good. Hey, today was kind of nice wasn’t it?” you asked, a smile on your face as you remembered.

“Yeah, it was kind of nice,” Jihoon admitted and you both hung up the phone.

Even though it was a Saturday afternoon, Jihoon found himself on campus in the broadcasting room. Seungkwan and Wonwoo were there earlier too but Jihoon wanted to finish editing the music video they had been working on. They had gone to get lunch and would be back later. 

It wasn’t that he was in a real hurry to finish it exactly, but he tended to immerse himself in his projects when he felt unsettled about something. He wasn’t even sure what he was specifically feeling weird about. Was it the fact that he really seemed to be getting along with your friends? Or was it that his heart seemed to speed up every time he caught your eyes yesterday?

All that could be heard in the room was the clicking of the mouse as he edited, thoughts swirling in his head. He was so distracted that he didn’t even realize that Wonwoo and Seungkwan had come back and that it was three hours later. He was brought back to reality as Seungkwan snapped his fingers in front of his face, literally snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. “Hellooooo, Jihoon,” Seungwan said, trying to get his attention. 

“Oh, sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon responded and turned around in the computer chair he was sitting in. 

“We should probably leave so we can all get ready for the concert tonight with Seok,” Wonwoo mentioned.

“Did you ask your girlfriend? Are you coming?” Seungkwan asked with a hint of bitterness.

“Actually, yeah. Y/N was kind of excited about it, so we’ll be there,” Jihoon said, ignoring Seungkwan’s tone.

Rather than getting into another heated discussion about whether Jihoon was acting like himself or not, Seungkwan and Wonwoo left and so did Jihoon after finishing the last bit of video editing. He went back home to get ready in another outfit you had chosen that day at the mall before going to pick you up. A few hours later, he was waiting in the car outside your dorm like he had multiple times before.

Jihoon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat of the song that was on the radio as he waited for you. He was pretty into it and didn’t see when you had come out of the house. You grinned as you slowly approached the car. Jihoon had been into music when you were younger and it was nice to know he truly hadn’t changed much despite everything that happened. “Okay drummer boy, I’m here. We should leave,” you said, making him jump slightly at your voice before he unlocked the passenger side for you to get in.

“So what band are we going to see?” you asked when Jihoon had pulled out onto the road that would take you to the bar.

“The Pixies. Wonwoo found them one time when he was DD’ing and went to pick Seokmin up at the bar one time. They showed Seungkwan and me the next time they played and we liked them too, so we try to catch them every time they play there.” Jihoon explained and you could tell how much he liked the band.

“Hmm, okay. Well I’m excited to hang out with you guys, to see Seungkwan, and to get to know Wonwoo and Seokmin even more,” you said and you really were. You wanted to catch a glimpse of what Jihoon had been like for the period of time you didn’t know him. He hummed in acknowledgment. It was quiet for a few minutes before you spoke again. “Hey, do I..look okay? I’ve actually never been to this kind of thing before..” you asked, feeling a little nervous.

Jihoon looked a little surprised, but then again seeing a girl punk rock band at a hole-in-the-wall bar was not exactly your scene. Eventually, he scanned your outfit, taking in the dark jeans and nice shirt you were wearing. “Yeah, you look nice,” he responded. He was probably just being polite but you noticed he was also wearing something similar, making you wonder why you spent so much time trying to find the right outfit in the first place. 

He pulled into the parking lot of the bar and parked next to a car that was familiar to you at this point, Wonwoo’s. You followed behind him as he walked into the bar and scanned the area for his friends. “Jihoon! Y/N!” you heard someone shout over the band that was already playing. You walked with Jihoon to where Seungkwan had shouted from, in the middle of a crowd standing somewhat near the stage. It got louder the closer you got to where Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Wonwoo were.

“Hey, boys!” you greeted them over the music. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Seungkwan said when you got closer. Wonwoo gave a small wave and Seokmin flashed a smile.

“I’m going to grab some drinks from the bar. Want anything?” Jihoon asked you all.

“Martini for me, please,” Seungkwan said.

“Suprise me,” came Seokmin’s response.

“I’m driving, of course, so just club soda?” Wonwoo asked.

Jihoon looked over at you, waiting for your order. “Rum and coke?” you asked. Jihoon did not expect that from you. He figured you’d want something more fancy like Seungkwan wanted.

“Okay, be back soon then,” Jihoon said and he disappeared into the crowd.

You turned your attention to the stage in front of you that had since grown quiet, guessing that the band that was playing when you walked in was the opener for who you were really here to see. You were making small talk with the three boys while waiting for the main event and for Jihoon to come back. As you had noticed before, Wonwoo was quiet but funny and had quite a knack for video editing. Seokmin was bright, adding a lightness to their group. You talked with Seungkwan about your junior high days when you, Jihoon, and he made up a trio. You remembered those days fondly and definitely noticed how wary Seungkwan was when talking about that part of your shared past.

Before you could address that, the crowd started cheering and colored lights were starting to shine on the stage as a group of girls came on stage with their instruments. They looked amazing. The girl in front had her hair teased in a high pony and wore silver pants that matched the glittering tank top of the girl drummer behind her. She picked up a guitar and started playing a riff that must have been from one of their well-known songs, judging by the howling in the crowd. As the song continued to play, you realized you liked it. The punk aspect was not something you would not have normally picked, but it made you feel something.

Jihoon was still waiting for your drinks over at the bar and was turned around to watch the stage. His eyes were automatically drawn to where you were, finding you with your eyes glued to the stage and complete joy written on your face. He watched as you got closer to the stage, starting to jump up and down with the music. He honestly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Here you go,” the bartender said from behind him, setting the drinks on the bar top. Jihoon grabbed them all, balancing them in his hands and set off back into the crowd with an amused smile on his lips.

He wove back through all the people, stopping to give his friends their drinks before moving forward in the crowd to where you were standing. The song was finishing as he reached you and you screamed and clapped for the band, making Jihoon laugh at how much you were actually enjoying this. He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned, the look on your face probably the happiest he had seen recently.

“Your drink,” Jihoon said, passing the glass to you.

“Thank you,” you said, taking it from him and giving it a light sip before turning your attention to the next song. You began bouncing up and down to the beat of the new song, as much as you could without spilling your drink. Jihoon thought you were cute like this. 

He stood there enjoying the music with you, his own drink in hand until you heard Wonwoo let out an “Ah, shit,” somewhere behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon questioned. 

“She’s here,” Wonwoo responded.

“Who?” you asked, confused. 

You followed Jihoon’s line of sight before you spotted who and he spoke her name. “Shayla.” She had a guy hanging off her, which you could only assume was the one she cheated on Jihoon with. You watched as they acted all lovey-dovey, making Jihoon look positively miserable. Her eyes crossed paths with Jihoon and you could only think of one thing to do, you kissed him. 

You made out with him to be exact, tongue and all. You couldn’t bear how hurt he looked, couldn’t stand the fact that Shayla was looking at him like she still cared. Jihoon didn’t know how he should respond other than to let you continue kissing him. You kept sneaking peeks at Shayla out of the corner of your eye as you kept making out with him. Eventually, Shayla looked away with a bit of a sneer and pulled her boy toy to another area of the bar. 

You pulled away from Jihoon and said, “Sorry, I was just returning the favor.” He had rescued you in a similar way, albeit a tamer way, that night at the dinner when your ex was there. You took it a little further than intended but you were just making it even, weren’t you? 

“Uh, thanks?” Jihoon responded, a light blush warming his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. This was not a reaction you expected from him or even one you thought he could have. It was actually pretty adorable. You tried not to think about it. You didn’t see it because you were too focused on the boy you weren’t supposed to like, but Wonwoo and Seungwan shared a look. 

“They are about to play the next song,” you said, trying to redirect attention back to the band and the stage. Jihoon only nodded, not knowing what else to say after that. You let the music take away thoughts of whatever feelings you might be starting to have for your fake boyfriend and by the time the concert was over, you had buried them deep in your mind once again.

In the parking lot of the bar, you said goodbye to Seungkwan, Wonwoo, and Seokmin before you got in the car with Jihoon to go home. It was a little awkward again before Jihoon turned the radio on. (You Drive Me) Crazy by Britney Spears came on and he groaned before he reached over to change the station. “Aw come on, Ji. Leave it there,” you whined before starting to sing along to the song. He grimaced at you but pulled his hand away from the dash, leaving the song on. “You drive me craaaazzzyyy, I just can’t sleep!” you sang loudly and badly on purpose. You poked your elbow into Jihoon’s side, trying to get him to sing with you as you continued with the lyrics.

After a few harder nudges Jihoon belted out, “Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night”. You gasped, putting your hand over your mouth. You didn’t think you’d actually get him to sing it with you. He continued driving with the two of you singing the rest of the song and giggling like maniacs, Jihoon showing a smile genuine enough that the dimples you only saw one other time appeared. You found yourself having fun more often with Jihoon and spending time with him was beginning to feel more and more natural, like you never parted ways to begin with.

Once again, you found yourself in the journalism room working on things for the ball. More specifically, the decorations. This time you were by yourself, there was yet another party happening tonight and the others left you so they could get Jennie’s house ready since she was hosting this time. Honestly, you didn’t mind and felt like you could get more things done without Jennie’s constant nitpicking. 

You were looking at a few different options for string lights when someone you didn’t expect to see walked in. Shayla. “Um, Mrs. Rathburn asked me to bring you the posters you had printed from the big office printer,” she said, showing the large posters she held in her arms.

“Oh, thanks for bringing them. You can set them over there,” you responded, gesturing toward the bigger table next to you. Shayla set them where you indicated and started toward the door but hesitated, turning back around. She looked like she wanted to say something to you. “Was there anything else?” you prompted.

She pondered for a moment before saying,” He seems happier with you.” You were sure what to say when she continued. “He never wanted to go places with me, never wanted to stop by the lab to see me, not the way he does with you.” 

The way she said it struck a chord with you. You knew she was a medical science major and worked in the chem lab a lot but it didn’t occur to you before and obviously, she didn’t know either. “He didn’t tell you about his mother, did he?” you asked. The confused look on Shayla’s face confirmed your suspicions. “His mother died when we were younger…of cancer. So you can imagine why he wouldn’t want to be around medicine and labs.”

Now she had a shocked look on her face, mixed with something like pity. “I didn’t know. Well, I hope he continues to be happy with you,” she said as she turned back around and walked out of the room. For once, you felt a little sorry for Shayla but fake or not, Jihoon was with you now. You sighed and got up from the chair you were sitting in, pulling the posters closer to you so you could examine them to make sure they had been printed properly. They looked good and you were glad that nothing was wrong with them. 

A few minutes later, Jihoon walked through the same classroom door that Shayla walked out of. “Hey, how's it going in here?” he asked casually. 

You shrugged, “It’s going. But, what are you doing here? You didn’t bring me coffee this time.” You grinned, enjoying being able to give him a hard time now without it turning into a big deal. 

“Wow, see if I ever bring you coffee again..” he teased back. “Anyway, I was working with Seungkwan on some AV stuff for the school news show and thought I’d stop by. It was strange though, I passed by Shayla in the hall and she was acting oddly nice to me.” 

“Huh, weird,” you said. There was no way you were going to tell him that you told her about his mother. He must have had a reason for not telling her, although some part of you was relieved he hadn’t.

“So, how do you feel about having dinner at my house before we go to Jennie’s party? My dad invited you. I think he’s noticed how close we’ve gotten again,” he asked, looking a little sheepish.

“I’d like that,” you responded, the corners of your lips turning up at the thought of Mr. Lee making Jihoon ask you over. You gathered all the things you were working on, organizing them so they made sense when you went to work on them again and left the room to go home with Jihoon.

You had really only been just inside of the door of Jihoon’s house since you reconnected. It felt weird going past the dining room threshold as you followed him into the kitchen, even though as a child you had been in every room in the house. It was a reminder of how things truly had changed after his mom died. 

Yet, the sight of Mr. Lee in the kitchen and the familiar smell of his famous Yangnyeom chicken transported you right back to those times when you and Jihoon would get called in for dinner when you had been playing outside or doing homework together. Mr. Lee turned around after plating the chicken. “Glad you could join us, Y/N! I had to practically beg Jihoon to ask you,” he beamed, walking into the dining room to set the large plate on the table.

“Thank you for inviting me Mr. Lee,” you said, politely as you took a seat in one of the chairs at the dining table. 

“At least I didn’t have to drag you two inside from the treehouse,” he said with a laugh and you found it ironic that he remembered that as well. 

Your eyes shifted to sliding doors on the other side of the dining room, looking out into the backyard to see if the treehouse still existed. “It’s still there..” you murmured as you made out the familiar wood walls poking out the only large tree still in the yard.

“Of course it is! Jihoon kept it up all these years and made sure no nail or board came out of place,” Mr. Lee exclaimed rather proudly. You looked over at Jihoon who was doing his best not to look at you. You thought it would have been destroyed by now. Jihoon’s actions lately were already confusing, but the fact that he had preserved the treehouse all this time confused you even more. 

The rest of dinner went well, it was comforting that it felt almost the same as it did when you were young. Well, minus a major person, but you tried your best not to think about that. You and Jihoon were helping Mr. Lee clean up when he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We should think about heading to the party now,” he said.

“I got the rest of this. You crazy kids go have fun at the party,” Mr. Lee said, basically telling the two of you to skedaddle already.

“Don’t wait up,” Jihoon joked, following you out of the kitchen and back into the front room.

Since you were busy enough today, you chose an outfit when you got ready this morning that would translate well from everyday to party. It’s not like you were the host or like it was that special of an event, plus you were willing to bet something would be spilled on it by the end of the night anyway. 

“Let me change into something more suitable and I’ll be right back,” Jihoon said to you. You nodded and sat on the bottom of the stairs to wait for him. Five minutes later, he came down the stairs looking effortless and amazing at the same time. Once again, making it hard for you to ignore the ever-annoying butterflies that filled your stomach. 

“Let’s get going, we don’t want to be late,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the front door.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived and you narrowly avoided being mowed over by Mingyu and Mark playing some sort of drunk game involving a soccer ball the minute you and Jihoon walked into Jennie’s house. You took Jihoon’s hand in yours as you wove through people, telling yourself it was so that you didn’t lose him in the crowd but you couldn’t help but feel like they fit together.

You made your way into the center of the house where more things seemed to be going on when you caught the sound of the familiar voices of your friends in the backyard. Jennie was already drunk, laughing loudly as she swayed her hips to the music blasting from speakers on either side of the yard. “There you guys areeeeeeee,” Jennie exclaimed, her words sounding slightly slurred which gave a bit of an indication of how much alcohol she’d had so far. 

You stifled a laugh as Miyeon gave you a look that essentially said “help me” as she lightly sipped on the drink she had while keeping an eye on Jennie. Mark suddenly appeared, without Mingyu this time. “Yoooo, Jihoon. Come be my partner, Mingyu got too drunk and I need someone who actually has hand-eye coordination,” he said, trying to rope Jihoon into whatever hair-brained game they had been playing. 

Mark dragged him off before he could protest, leaving you with just the girls. “You know, I wasn’t sure about Jihoon in the beginning, but the makeover he had really suits him well. If you weren’t dating him, I would be all over that,” Jennie babbled, the multiple drinks in her system acting like an unwanted truth serum. You felt a hint of animosity toward her, and you had to keep telling yourself that you shouldn’t be. You weren’t dating for real, but in principle, it was since nobody else knew that. 

To make it easier to resist the urge to strangle Jennie, you excused yourself and went to get a drink from the bar on the other side of the patio that you assumed Jennie paid to be there. Walking up to the bartender, you ordered something that tasted good but wouldn’t get you blasted immediately. A few seconds wait and you thanked the bartender, taking your drink from him. You turned around, maybe to go find where Mark dragged Jihoon off to when you found yourself face to face with your ex.

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually looking for you,” Johnny said. He was just passing by but he was clearly looking for someone. You, apparently. 

“Um, okay…didn’t you come with your new girlfriend?” you asked, confused as to why he was looking for you when he seemed so infatuated with the girl the last time you had seen him.

“Well, that’s kind of why I was looking for you. Let’s find a quieter place to talk,” he motioned to some chairs that sat out off the side of the patio where fewer people were milling around. You sat down in one and he sat in the one across from you.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you questioned, not exactly interested but he did specifically seek you out.

“I know you are with Jihoon now, but I was wondering if I could take you to the dance?” Johnny asked, with what he thought might be a convincing smile on his face. You choked on your drink. He couldn’t be serious. The very thing you had wanted before everything got messy and he was asking you now?

“But what about your girlfriend?” you inquired.

“She broke up with me, said she found someone new,” he shrugged. You snorted. Ironic wasn’t it? She broke up with him for nearly the same reason he broke up with you.

“Once upon a time, all I ever wanted was for you to take me to the ball I planned. But you know what? I’m not the same person as I was all those months ago and I’m with Jihoon now. Go find some other poor sucker to go with you because I won’t,” you responded and you knew it was true. You weren’t the same person anymore. You could care less about being popular. All you cared about was being yourself. And being with Jihoon.

Johnny looked stunned, “Damn, Jihoon is a lucky guy.” You felt that was your cue to leave and you had to go to the bathroom anyway. So you left Johnny there and went inside to search for the restroom. You walked back into the house through the sliding door and were headed down the hall when you saw it, saw them. 

Jennie was talking with Jihoon when suddenly you saw her lips meet his. You didn’t know what was happening and your face crumpled. Immediately, you knew that the feelings you were trying to suppress for Jihoon couldn’t be covered up anymore. Jennie broke free of the kiss with a smirk, turning Jihoon around by his shoulders so that his eyes would meet yours. “Bitch,” you murmured, a sob trying to break free from your chest.

Jihoon’s eyes widened as they met yours. “Y/N, wait!” he shouted, a pleading tone bleeding into it. You didn’t want to hear it. This whole thing was fake anyway. You ignored him and stormed out the front door, not caring where you were going. You just needed out of there. Jennie’s house wasn’t that close to the dorm, but it didn’t matter. You wanted to walk anyway.

You did eventually make it back to the dorm, you didn’t know how long it took you and you didn’t care. Everything was ruined and you felt the most pathetic that you had ever been. You retreated to your room and the warmth of your bed, wanting to never leave it. You should have never come up with this idea if you knew it would turn out this way. You weren’t supposed to fall for your ex-best friend, your enemy.

Jihoon was also miserable, perhaps on a different and newfound level. He thought he was in a bad way when he broke up with Shayla, but it was nothing like the way he felt after Jennie tricked him. Nothing like the way his heart cracked when he saw your face and the way your chin trembled when you saw the kiss and nothing like when he called out to you, only for you to ignore him and walk out the door. 

He thought he might have loved Shayla when they were together, but he was so wrong. He loved you and it took losing you to finally realize it, to admit it to himself. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now, but the most immediate solution was to numb the pain. He knew Wonwoo would come get him anyway, and so he drank. He drank a lot. Likely more than he ever had.

He drank so much that he didn’t even know how time moved forward and transported him to where he was now, outside, throwing his guts up in Jennie’s front garden. He must have called Wonwoo at some point, he most certainly didn’t remember doing it but Wonwoo was suddenly standing there in the yard, waiting to see if Jihoon’s stomach was done forcing out whatever contents were left. 

Wonwoo didn’t have much sympathy for his friend at this point. “How does it feel Jihoon? Being part of the popular crowd?” he mocked. 

“Shut up, Wonwoo,” Jihoon croaked, slowly getting up from his kneeling position in the grass to slowly tread toward Wonwoo’s car. Jihoon all but melted into the backseat once the two of them were both in the car, his head already starting to pound. 

“You really screwed up, you know,” Wonwoo said, once the car was on the way to Jihoon’s house. 

“How do you know what happened?” Jihoon mumbled the question

“You know how fast news travels around here,” he responded.

“Considering everyone was at the party, I’m not surprised.” Wonwoo slammed on the brakes, making Jihoon fall forward and smack his nose on the seat in front of him. “Ow, what the hell Wonwoo?!” he yelped, hands moving to his face to touch his now tender nose.

“Everybody was NOT there, Jihoon! Seungkwan and I weren’t there, Seokmin wasn’t there, so no, everybody was not at the party,” Wonwoo nearly growled. 

“Okay, sheesh. Everybody was not there,” Jihoon conceded, given his growing headache and the fact that Wonwoo so rarely yelled. 

“Get out,” Wonwoo said and Jihoon was about to protest when he looked out of the window to see that they had actually stopped outside his house. “Call me when you’ve decided to return back to being the friend I know.” 

Jihoon couldn’t respond, he didn’t have a decent answer for that. He just got out of the car, went into the house, and flopped face-first onto his bed. He did know that Wonwoo was right though, he royally fucked up. The only thing he could think about was talking to you, to see if there was a way to convince you of what truly happened with Jennie. 

He rolled back to his side, reaching his arm out to grab the phone from the nightstand. He didn’t know how late it was but prayed you’d still answer the phone. He punched in your number and waited as it rang and rang. He was just about to give up when a tired “hello?” answered. 

“Please let me explain,” Jihoon said, immediately. 

You sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It was crazy to think we could fake it this long, this is our easy out,” you responded, trying to keep your voice from breaking and giving you away. 

“What about the dance? That was the main goal of this whole thing,” he said. Jihoon knew that wasn’t why he wanted to keep this ruse going but it was all he could think to try.

“I’ll figure something out. Or maybe I won’t go at all. Let’s just go back to how things were before.” Tears were starting to slip down your cheeks now and you hung up the phone before Jihoon could hear the sob that left your chest.

After the party, days and weeks continued on but you and Jihoon were not the same. Jihoon spaced out often, going about his days in a trance. He even ignored Shaya’s renewed and constant advances on him. He didn’t want anyone else but you. Wonwoo had seen how depressed Jihoon was and took pity on him, letting everything that happened between the two of them that night go. You threw yourself into ball planning which was ironic considering you likely wouldn’t even be attending anymore and Jihoon spent more time editing in the broadcasting room, only being pulled out by his friends. 

You had all but stopped hanging out with all your “friends”, only working with them for the ball because you had to. Everything felt like a blur. You had confronted Jennie shortly after the night of the party, her only excuse being “I was doing you a favor.” Maybe in some way she really was, just not in the way she intended. Your relationship with Jihoon may have started out as a fake one but now your feelings were real and you needed to stop before they destroyed you both.

When the night of the ball came around, you found yourself in your dorm room with no date and crying once again. The dress you had picked out long ago to match the tux you had helped Jihoon pick out was hung on the back of your door, mocking you. Maybe you should go by yourself, it would be weird if the planner herself didn’t attend. You brushed the tears from your cheeks and shook your head. That was enough of that, crying and feeling sorry for yourself wouldn’t change anything.

Then your phone rang. “Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N? Hi,” spoke a voice that was vaguely familiar but not one you’d heard over the phone.

“Seungkwan?” you questioned.

“Yeah, it’s Seungkwan. Listen, I know you probably don’t have a date to the ball anymore and I think it would be a shame if you couldn’t go. You deserve to see your event finished so, how about I take you?” Seungkwan said.

For the first time since the night of the party, a genuine smile crossed your face. Seungkwan had always been the sweetest person you’d known, even after you all had parted ways as kids. “I’d like that,” you responded.

“Okay, cool. I can come pick you up in an hour. Will that be enough time to get ready?” he asked 

“Sure, see you soon,” you said, hanging up the phone and scrambling to start getting ready. That gave you an answer to your earlier thoughts of just going to the ball by yourself. You were much happier going with Seungkwan, someone you knew you’d have some fun with. You pulled your dress from where you had been glaring at it earlier, glad that it was no longer going to waste. You grabbed shoes that went with it from your closet and got ready as efficiently as you could.

You were smoothing out the bottom of your dress and making sure the last strands of your hair were in place when one of your dorm mates called up the stairs to let you know Seungkwan was there. You picked up the light sweater and small purse you had set out on a chair and walked down the stairs to meet Seungkwan. 

He smiled as he spotted you and said, “You look great.”

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said back. His simple black tuxedo made him look handsome. You reached the bottom of the stairs and he pulled something out from behind his back, showing it to you.

“It was short notice, but this is for you,” Seungkwan said, holding out a pretty wrist corsage. 

You let out a pleased laugh and held out your wrist so that he could slip it on, the white rose simple but pretty. “Thank you, that was sweet of you.” 

“Of course, I can't let my best girl feel left out,” he said with a chuckle. 

Immediately you were thankful for at least one good thing that came out of all of this. You had a good friend in Seungkwan once again. “Let’s go,” you said and you headed to the dance.

Walking in the doors of the venue you rented, you took in everything. Seungkwan was right, you shouldn’t miss how everything you planned had come together. From the centerpieces on the tables to the twinkle lights winding around the beams in the ceiling, everything you had imagined and planned out. It looked perfect. There was only one thing missing, but there was nothing you could do about that anymore.

You and Seungkwan sat down for a little while at one of the tables, talking about different things and people watching before he asked you to dance. He got up from his seat, holding out his hand for you to take. You took it and he led you to the dance floor. Stopping at an empty spot toward the edge, he placed his hands on your back and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You began swaying to the music the DJ was playing. It was nice and comfortable but of course, it was only platonic with Seungkwan.

“Jihoon really likes you, you know,” he said eventually. You sighed, knowing this topic would come up eventually. Seungkwan cared about both of you. “And I know you like him too.” He continued, recounting how bleak the two of you had been in the past weeks.

“I know Seungkwan, but everything is all messed up now,” you said. 

“Well, now is your chance to fix it,” he suddenly said, looking up at something or rather someone.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“May I cut in?” A voice asked from behind you. You let out a small gasp. Jihoon?

Seungkwan’s hands left your back and he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, leaving you and Jihoon on the dance floor. You looked at Jihoon. He was wearing the tuxedo you picked out to match your dress and looked as handsome as ever. He approached you, gently placing his hands around your waist and you let your hands rest at the nape of his neck. Your fingers lightly brushed at the ends of his shaggy hair that you liked so much.

You danced a bit to the slow song that was on before you broke the tension between the two of you. “Why are you here, Jihoon?” you asked.

“Because I missed you. God, I missed you so much,” he blurted, pulling you closer to him. Your heart panged at his words. You missed him too and you knew that you didn’t want to pretend your feelings for him didn’t exist. 

“I missed you too,” you murmured.

“I’m so sorry about what happened with Jennie. I swear she tricked me but that’s not what matters. I like you, Y/N. I think I’ve always liked you, before everything got so messed up.” He was on a roll now, telling you all that was on his mind and everything he should have told you from the beginning when you both agreed to that stupid fake dating plan.

Your face broke out into a grin. “I like you, too.” Jihoon must have been holding his breath, because he let out a rush of air in relief at your response. “I asked Jennie why she did what she did and she told me she was doing us a favor. I guess in some way, she really did.”

Then Jihoon reached out a hand to cup your cheek, his eyes looking into yours before he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. There were no fireworks, but something much better as you kissed him back. Warmth. A warmth that radiated through your entire body and you couldn’t have imagined anything better. 

You broke away after a few minutes, becoming aware that several eyes were on the two of you. Specifically the eyes of Jennie, Johnny, Mark, Miyeon, and a few of the others. “Who are we making jealous now, Jihoon?” you laughed.

“Everyone,” was his response and he kissed you again, making everything around you disappear. 

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.

“I have just the place in mind,” he answered, cheekily and the two of you left hand in hand.

After the dance, you came bursting through the gate to Jihoon’s backyard, giggling like you were little kids again. The only difference was now Jihoon kept pausing to kiss you every few minutes as he led you to the treehouse. He pulled you with him up the ladder and into the familiar house. Except that instead of just the pillows and the small table that you remember being there before, there were blankets and lit candles set out in the corners.

“Did you plan this?” you asked, suspicious.

“I had hoped?” he responded, innocently. 

You shook your head, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I am very lucky.”

“If I knew you were going to be this cheesy-” He cut you off with another kiss and led you over to the blankets that were laid out in the middle of the wooden floor. He sat down, pulling you to sit with him. He initiated a make-out session that began innocently but was now starting to get heated. He leaned backward, laying back against the blankets and making you lay on top of him.

His kisses moved to your jaw and to your collarbone making you let out a gasp and thread your hands through his dark locks. All the pent-up feelings and chemistry that had built up between you was finally reaching a breaking point, in your childhood hangout no less. Your hands made work with his clothes, taking off his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders when you finally managed to rid him of the annoying button-down.

To make it easier for him, you straightened your back so he could pull the entire thing up and over your head. You were left in just your underwear and Jihoon paused to look at you before taking off his dress pants. “You are gorgeous,” he whispered, pressing light kisses to your shoulders. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of being loved on by him.

Soon you both had been rid of all remaining garments, leaving you completely naked and hands roaming each other's bodies. Jihoon’s length pressed against your thighs, making you moan at the skin contact and buck against him. He hissed in pleasure and bit his lip, the action increasing the arousal at your core. He moved to grind his head against your sensitive nub and you let out a whine. 

After a few minutes of that, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed him inside you. “Jihoon…” you breathed out.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Please,” you whimpered.

He reached over to his discarded pants to get the little foil packet from the pocket. He opened it and slid the condom over his cock with a hiss. He steaded your hips and ran his length through your folds a few times before he slowly slid into you, letting you adjust to his size.

“Fuck,” he let out a groan as your heat engulfed him. He began moving slowly within you. Your sacred childhood treehouse was now filled with lewd slaps of skin against skin and moans filled with pleasure. You established a rhythm that had you both slowly chasing your highs together. Your moans had turned to mewls as the coil in the pit of your stomach was stretching to its limit. 

“I’m close, Ji,” you whimpered. The use of Jihoon’s nickname drove him to the edge as well and he pumped into you that much harder. The coil snapped and you orgasmed, hard enough that your thighs shook. Your walls contracting around him made Jihoon hit his high as well. His hips stilled and he let out a groan, emptying his seed into the condom.

He slowly pulled out of you and you both collapsed next to each other on the blankets with heaving breaths. After a few minutes and your breathing had returned to normal, Jihoon turned to look at you, his head resting on his shoulder. “So, frienemies?” he asked with a chuckle. 

You reached out and smacked him in the chest. “Jihoon!”

“Ouch, I’m kidding. I know we are more than that. So much more than that,” he said, tugging you closer to him and leaving a kiss on your forehead. 

“Yes, absolutely more than that,” you agreed. Jihoon drove you crazy, but you came to the conclusion that you didn’t want it any other way.

©️wooahaeproductions

All works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works.

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

other than the palpable tension, the moment that stuck with me was the vacuum situation😂😂😂

watermelon sugar- mark lee

info: mark x reader, enemies to lovers, road trip au

wc: 11.4k

warnings: cursing + mentions of alcohol consumption

Jaehyun’s invitation to his beach house was a kind one, offering your entire friend group a week-long stay at his- or his parent’s, beach house, a luxurious, large beachfront property that also happened to be 20 hours away, practically across the country.

A two night and almost three day road trip trapped in a small car with four other people was not your ideal way to travel or vacation but as Donghyuck had put it, “flights are expensive and Johnny’s car.. well it’s a car.”

You’re not totally sure how enjoyable the road trip will be but you do think that the final destination of the beach will definitely be worth it.

A week after Jaehyun’s invitation, after agreeing to switch out drivers, mapping out a route, and scoping out motels, you were finally gathered in Johnny’s garage, preparing to make the long drive.

You help load his sedan that fit everyone except Jaehyun- who was already at the beach house, as Donghyuck leans against the trunk and Johnny rustles around in the front seat before rushing back inside to grab something else, coming back out in a few seconds with a large cooler in his arms as you and Donghyuck part to make room.

“Mark is coming,” Donghyuck says casually with a raised brow and a smirk, watching your reaction as Johnny laughs, “She’s already been warned,” he adds with his typical, knowing smile. You control your expression, hating the way they both look at you waiting for your reaction- which doesn’t come. Of course you already knew Mark was coming, you had already prepared yourself accordingly for the added nuisance on the long drive.

“Mark’s fine,” you shrug, “I like Mark.”

Donghyuck scoffs before grabbing his suitcase and shoving it next to the cooler before taking your bag that you hand to him. He turns to you with obvious disbelief. “Ever since I met you, you have very openly not liked Mark.”

You don’t say anything in response, not bothering to argue with something that was true- but it’s not like Mark likes you either. It was a mutual dislike that you personally found completely justified.

Keep reading

cupid eric was working real hard!

win over your heart (goal!)

sunwoo x reader (this is for the anon who requested jealous sunwoo and bff eric! thank youuuu~)

summary: getting partnered up with your best friend eric and your childhood enemy sunwoo for a school project isn’t always ideal.

genre: friends to lovers, childhood enemies to lovers lol, school au (high school, college, not rlly specified), soccer player sunwoo and eric!, eric is your best friend and the real mvp here actually, fluff, jealousy, confession, getting together, first kiss, reader likes photography, flirting but also shyness notes: yumi is in a weird era where she suddenly writes these long ass fics for literal no reason 😭 my true writing potential (not rlly, i could write 20k if i rlly wanted to) word count: 7k

There were many rules when it came to soccer. You never quite understood all of them. The only thing that you were absolutely sure of, was that the goal is always the main objective. So really, every time you watched soccer games, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the area next to the two white nets, wondering which team will score next.

“Y/n! Hey.” Eric popped up from the bleachers, dressed in his usual soccer uniform. He leaned his forearms against the cool metal, looking up at you with a quirky smile. “You didn’t forget what you have to do, did you?”

You immediately shook out of your little daydream, looking down to face him. “Oh, yeah. I definitely remembered.”

Eric raised an eyebrow.

You huffed. “I remembered… just now.”

“Focus.” He rolled his eyes. Then, he gave you a cheesy thumbs-up and a wink. “Make sure I look top-tier and better than everyone else.”

“I’ll make sure I do the opposite,” You deadpanned. As he walked away, you picked up the heavy camera that hung around your neck. Photography has always been your sort of… escape. Being able to look through the lens in a completely new perspective and even capturing precious moments easily caused you to get lost in your own world.

Usually, you took pictures of scenery or pretty flowers. But sometimes, there would be a certain someone who wanted you to take high-quality pictures of him so that he could use them to impress someone that he was crushing on.

You sighed, bringing the camera up to your face, to zoom in. You moved your view around until you found the familiar back of Eric’s head. 

“Found you, dummy,” You whispered to yourself, turning the lens so that you could focus on his face. You followed him around, taking pictures whenever he would subconsciously pose in the sunlight or when a bright smile would appear on his face whenever he successfully passed the ball. 

After the first game of practice was finished, you tracked your best friend as he walked towards someone. You squinted your eyes, watching as he began to talk to him, punching his shoulder and everything. Eventually, your curiosity got the better of you and so with a held breath, you shifted your focus onto the man next to him. 

“It’s you,” You wondered to yourself, pulling back briefly. “Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo was your enemy. Well, not anymore. Elementary school enemies. It was funny, really. You two had always bickered when you were little children, sticking tongues out and messing up each other’s coloring papers.

“I’m gonna tell on you!” You would always threaten whenever he stole your little zebra eraser.

“Nuh-uh!”

There never was a day where you didn’t fight with him. Up until elementary school ended and he had moved away. 

You brought the camera back up, trying to find Eric again but he was long gone. You sighed, as you went back to search for him, but again, your camera landed back on Sunwoo. Swallowing nervously, you watched as he began to play in his own style. Even the way he ran was alluring. He was a lot more serious than Eric, but his eyes were always adorably bright and his hair always bounced like a puppy’s.

You forgot to mention that when Sunwoo had come back to school all grown up, he had really grown up. Taller, broader, his jawline suddenly appearing? It was hard to admit but he became… attractive rather than the cute, scrawny boy from before.

You were enamored, the thought of taking pictures of Eric completely abandoning your mind. You knew that Sunwoo was a very skilled soccer player, which was why he was always moving. Stretching his legs, rolling his neck, blah, blah. 

“If you would just stay still…” You mumbled, only managing to take horribly blurry pictures. And suddenly, he paused. “Aha,” You breathed out with excitement. “Stay there.” 

But just as you were about to click the button, he was looking up at you, with a confused pout. And then it turned into a growing smirk. 

You inhaled sharply, pulling the camera away from your face, your cheeks burning.

“Oh my god,” You panicked and shut your eyes in hopes that this was all a dream. When you peeked one eye open, he was still staring up at you. You simply wanted to crawl into a hole.

And you could have just stood up and left. But poor, poor you. Oblivious you. You decided to wave. Wave at him.

Sunwoo widened his eyes slightly. And then he waved back, giving you a small smile. Even from so far away, you could see the twinkle in his eye.

—

Practice had finally ended which meant that you could finally escape the heat of sitting on the bleachers. You bounded down the stairs to meet up with Eric. 

“Tell me! He eagerly jogged up to you with an excited smile. “Did you get any good pictures? Ones that will make people fall in love with me?”

You winced. “I think I did?”

“Great! Let me see–” He reached forward to grab your camera. Normally, you would let him, but this was different. You couldn’t risk him seeing all the pictures that you had taken of Sunwoo.

“No!” You blurted out. “I have to edit them. Some of them aren’t–”

“Eric?” Sunwoo walked up to the two of you, a knowing smile on his lips. Even while sweaty, he still glowed under the setting sun. It was quite unfair actually.

You gulped. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, motioning to your camera. “Are they all pictures of Eric?”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the floor. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

Sunwoo only smiled wider. “Could’ve sworn you were focusing on someone else.”

“You’re imagining things, Sunwoo.” You glared.

Eric gasped. “You were taking pictures of someone else? Who?”

You shook your head, whining and holding the camera desperately out of reach. “I did not! Leave me alone.”

Eric laughed louder. “Never. Not as long as you’re with me.” He surged forward, pulling you into a tight hug as he pressed a loud kiss to the top of your head.

“Eric,” You giggled shoving him away. Except, he only prevailed, holding you closer. Physical touch has always been your guys’ thing. Neither of you complained. That was just what best friends do.

“You will accept my kisses.” He glowered.

“Fine, fin—“ Your eyes met Sunwoo’s. He was staring at the two of you with an incomprehensible expression. Your eyes traveled down and you could see how oddly stiff his shoulders were.

You cleared your throat nervously and pushed Eric off, making him grumble sulkily.

“Can you go ahead without me?” You turned to your best friend. “I have to ask Sunwoo something.”

“Sunwoo? Why would you— ow.” He winced when you pinched him on the shoulder. With a pout, he walked away.

Eric was aware that you knew Sunwoo from way before. You both were best friends after all, meeting just a few years ago. No secrets were to be kept. Well… except for the fact that you think Sunwoo is cute. But that’s different.

You turned to Sunwoo with an embarrassed frown. “If you could just forget that all happened, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“That you were secretly taking pictures of me?” Sunwoo tilted his head innocently.

Immediately, a blush rose to your cheeks. “I was not.”

“Show me then.” He glanced at the camera around your neck. You hesitated but with a sigh you turned it on. Sunwoo approached you and you could even hear his breathing. You let out a shaky exhale, willing your heartbeat to calm down.

You clicked through the pictures, praying that they would all be of Eric. But to no avail, the very next picture was of Sunwoo, kicking the ball.

He hummed, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“That looks like me.”

You stuttered, at a loss for words. He only continued to stare back, his eyes gleaming.

“Fine!” You blurted out. “It is you. But please.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hanging your head low. “This is embarrassing,” You mumbled quietly.

“Why?” You could practically hear his smirk. Then, a finger was under your chin, pulling you up to face him. You gasped quietly, trying to look anywhere but at him. He only leaned closer. “I think it’s cute,” He whispered. “After all these years, I have a secret admirer. And it’s you.”

“I am not!” You sputtered, blushing profusely. “Last time I remember, you stole my favorite crayon.”

“You’re still on that?” He pouted.

“Yes, in fact. I very much am,” You stubbornly huffed.

He pulled away finally but he was still smiling. “You do know I was doing all that to get your attention right?” 

You froze. “What?”

“We were never enemies. At least I thought we weren’t,” He mumbled as he quickly turned away. If you stepped forward any further you could see that his ears turned red.

“Sunwoo?”

He only walked faster.

—

“What are the chances that we all get paired up together?” Eric happily plopped down on the desk in front of where you and Sunwoo were sitting together. 

“Great,” Sunwoo huffed. “It was supposed to be me and Y/n. You just happened to show up late.”

“Aw,” Eric cooed playfully. “Don’t be so jealous.”

“I’m not,” He mumbled. Surprised, you turned to him, only to see his flushed cheeks as he avoided your gaze.

You giggled to yourself as you picked up the paper you were assigned.

“Exploring each other’s hobbies. A way to expand a person’s interests and grow a connection to the other.” You read with a bored voice. “Each person will teach the other their hobby and— This feels like the school talent show all over again.”

Sunwoo laughed. “Remember when I tripped you during your cute little dance routine?”

“Yes,” You groaned. “I was literally about to cry by the way.”

Eric watched your interaction with a growing smile. It was his time to play cupid.

“Did I hear that right?” He spoke up with a grin.

“Hm?”

“Cute. Cute?” He turned to Sunwoo. “Are you flirting with my best friend right now?”

Sunwoo immediately sputtered. “No. I was not. I actually thought it was stupid and dumb.”

You gazed at him with a small smile. “You thought my silly dance was cute?”

He grumbled, flopping down to hide his face in his arms. “I— I didn’t. Not at all.”

Suddenly, the teacher came around and she poked Sunwoo in the shoulder.

“No sleeping in class, young man. And you two should start working.”

You sighed, turning back to the paper.

“As I was saying before someone brought back bad memories.” You glared at Sunwoo who’s cheeks were still tinted red. “We’re supposed to try each other’s hobbies and write a few sentences on what we think about it.”

“Easy,” Eric replied. “What hobbies are we doing?”

“Photography.” You smiled giddily.

“Soccer,” Sunwoo said. 

“But I already know how to play,” Eric whined. “Oh, but Y/n doesn’t.” He gasped. “You’re going to be a great soccer player,” He joked as he took your hand in his. He intertwined your fingers with his with an excited smile.

You laughed, turning to Sunwoo only to see that he was staring directly at your connected hands, a small frown on his face.

“Enough of this,” He muttered grumpily, reaching forward to grab both yours and Eric’s wrists, pulling them apart. His warm hand lingered on yours for a second, making you inhale sharply.

“What about you?” You choked out, turning away to hide your blush. “Eric.”

“Me?” He said. He gave a sly smile. “It’s a surprise.” 

—

“You walk awfully fast.”

You heard a voice call out from behind you. Classes had ended which meant the usual routine of you heading home.

Turning around, you were met with the sight of Sunwoo running towards you, bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was slightly wavy, reminding you of a poodle.

“Sunwoo,” You breathed out. “What are you doing here?”

He gave you a quirked-up smile.

“Am I not allowed to walk you home?”

You laughed. “It’s a short walk, I’m okay.”

He shook his head, beginning to walk side-by-side with you. It was a comfortable silence with him occasionally taking soft glances at you.

“So,” He spoke up. “You and Eric.” You looked at him, noticing a nervous expression flit across his face.

“What about him?”

He frowned. “How long have you known him for?”

“Mmm…” You thought for a second. “About three years.”

A relieved look replaced his anxious one. “So you’ve known me longer.” 

“Well…” You eyed him skeptically. “We were young kids and you did disappear for a good while. And came back really tall all of a sudden.” You nudged his shoulder with a smile. “Didn’t think you would be one of the taller ones.”

“Hey." He scowled. “What do you take me for? Of course I would be tall.” He puffed his chest out, making you laugh dearly.

But then, his expression softened as he looked at you with a sort of longing in his eyes.

“But, I’m sorry,” He whispered. “For disappearing like that. I didn’t want to move away but—“

“It’s okay,” You reassured him. “I mean, for what it’s worth…” You trailed off when you realized just how intently he was gazing at you. But still, you kept up the eye contact no matter how warm your cheeks felt. “I did miss you. When you were gone.”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows rose as he stared at you almost like he was in disbelief. But then, it contorted into a teasing look.

“You missed me?” His laugh was deep. “Tell me, are you in love with me or something?”

Heat rose to your cheeks rapidly. “I was trying to be genuine and nice!” You huffed. “Fine, I'll take it back. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Don’t be like that,” He teased further.

You grumbled, stubbornly turning away.

“Look at me.” He tapped your shoulder. When you did, you noticed that his coy smile was gone, now replaced with a shy, timid one. “And for what it’s worth,” He mumbled, copying your previous words. “I missed you too.”

“See!” You exclaimed, trying to hide the smile that threatened to widen on your lips. “Was that so hard to say?”

“Definitely. Took all of my courage actually,” He joked, giving you a charming tilt of his lips.

You snorted. Something glinted in the corner of your eye and your smile fell briefly.

“Is that…” You pointed at the keychain that hung on his bag. It was a small plastic cat, dirty and chipped, almost like he had gotten it years ago.

He widened his eyes, his hand shooting out to cover it from your sight.

“It’s nothing.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Take it.” You had shoved a cat keychain in his hand. “Since you’re moving away and all… you should have this.”

Young Sunwoo had frowned at you. “I don’t want it. It’s ugly.” 

But he still took it from you anyway.

You had assumed he was going to throw it out or give it away but here it was, hanging on his bag.

“Oh my god, Sunwoo,” You whispered in utter shock. “You kept it for so long?”

He shut his eyes, wincing from mortification. “It— it was too hideous to throw out.”

“Sure.” You smirked. “Then tell me, Sunwoo. Are you in love with me or something?”

And for some odd reason, he never answered the question.

–

“Photography is all about capturing the moment in it’s best,” You explained. “As long as you do so, then it doesn’t matter if your camera is absolute shit.” You snickered, glancing at Eric with his camera that was basically holding on for dear life. It was battered and dusty as he had claimed that he found it in his attic. 

Eric pouted. “I tried to find a better one,” He cried.

Sunwoo laughed to himself. He didn’t have a camera, so he was borrowing yours. Something about the way he gently handled it put a funny feeling in your heart that you couldn’t quite comprehend. 

The three of you had agreed to meet at a park, where it was likely to find subjects to take pictures of. Pretty flowers and the like.

“Using a camera is self-explanatory, but it’s the focusing that people need to work on,” You said. “But, I like to think that it comes naturally, as long as they choose something beautiful in their eyes to take a picture of.”

The two of them stared at you blankly, like obedient puppies who wanted a treat. You groaned, frustrated.

“So go,” You urged them. “Capture what’s beautiful to you.”

“Oh right!” Eric shot up, running over to a bed of flowers. You followed him and you helped him focus on a specific pink one. 

“You’re supposed to– twist it so that it–” 

“I got it!” Eric looked at you determined. “You may be my best friend but you’re a pretty bad teacher.”

You whined, pulling away. “That’s harsh coming from someone who has a camera that’s literally unable to focus at all.”

“Oh.” His mouth dropped open. “Is that why it doesn’t work?”

You snorted. “No. Your camera isn’t even turned on.”

“Shut up.” He scowled. 

You laughed, turning around. That was when you saw Sunwoo, standing from a distance. He had the camera brought up to his face. Underneath, you could see a small smile on his lips.

But the thing is, he was pointing the camera straight at you.

Your past words rang through your ears. You felt your breath be completely taken away at the realization. Sunwoo seemed to be unfazed as he only zoomed closer on you.

Clearing your throat, you walked up to him.

“Me?” Your hand came up to the camera, pushing it down so that his kind eyes met yours. 

He nodded, stepping closer so that he was only inches away from your face. You could feel your heart beat all throughout your limbs as your breath was caught in your throat. His hand came up to the side of your face and you felt something being tucked behind your ear.

You furrowed your eyebrows and touched it. It was a small, white flower.

“Sunwoo?” You breathed out, your voice shaky.

“You said to capture what’s beautiful to me,” He answered. You couldn’t even bring yourself to reply as he stepped backward, brought the camera up to his eye, and took a picture of you. You were sure you looked like a deer in headlights. A deer with a flower tucked behind its ear.

“You…” Your mouth went dry as you looked down at your shoes like they were the most interesting thing. “I don’t know what to say.” 

Sunwoo smiled. He took the camera off his neck and handed it to you.

“Just know that I think you’re the most beautiful,” He whispered. He walked away as soon as he noticed Eric coming towards you. 

Your mouth gaped open yet no sound came out. You turned the camera on and looked through the pictures. There were no photos of flowers or butterflies. They were all of you either talking to Eric or walking toward Sunwoo. And the last photo was what made your legs go weak. The one with the flower behind your ear. 

“Woah, you look so nice in that picture!” Eric stated, peering from behind you.

You had forgotten to mention that what the photographer captures, is what they truly see in their eyes. 

(Photography seems fun. Though it isn’t something I would pursue, I did learn to take pictures of lovely things. Or people. There’s one person in particular. - Sunwoo)

-

“Soccer isn’t just about kicking the ball.” Eric walked across the field, his chin held up high like their coach always did. “It’s about– uh…”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Nevermind, it really is just about kicking the ball,” He muttered, his cheeks flushing. Sunwoo snorted, taking the ball from him.

“We’re just going to kick the ball at the goal over there.” He pointed out.

You nodded. “See? Eric, Sunwoo’s a much better teacher already.” Without thinking, you grabbed Sunwoo’s arm, pulling him closer. You didn’t notice him begin to blush profusely.

“No, no.” Eric shook his head. “I’ll teach you how to kick the ball properly.”

You sighed. “Fine. Prove yourself.”

“I will!” Eric stuck his tongue out at you. You let go of Sunwoo so that Eric could walk behind you. He rested his hands on your shoulders, tilting your body slightly. “When you kick the ball, you don’t use the tip of your shoe. You use the–”

The both of you were interrupted by Sunwoo clearing his throat. He was practically glaring daggers at Eric, his eyebrow raised.

“Let me teach.”

Your breath hitched and you turned to Eric. He seemed to be completely unbothered though. Instead, there was a knowing smile on his lips as he looked at Sunwoo, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Okay,” He jested. “Go ahead.”

He easily backed off, bewildering you. You stared after him about to say something but he cut you off again.

“Your boyfriend is a really jealous person,” He remarked, cackling as he walked off to kick the ball around for himself.

You squeaked. “He’s not–”

You inhaled sharply when you noticed that Sunwoo was already standing behind you. 

“Pay attention,” He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Oh,” You breathed out shakily. “Okay.”

You could hear him huff out a subtle laugh as he brought the soccer ball closer to your foot. Did the weather change? You wondered why it was starting to feel so warm. 

It got much, much hotter when you registered the feeling of a large hand resting on your waist. He gently shifted you so that you were at an angle. You took in a deep breath.

“At an angle,” He explained. “Use the inner side of your foot to kick the ball.”

You looked up at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes soft on yours. With a shaky exhale, you turned back to face the goal. And then you kicked the ball. You watched as it traveled barely a short distance before stopping right behind the goal line.

“I hate this,” You cried. 

Sunwoo laughed, his deep voice alluring. “You did alright.”

“Better than that one time you fell flat on your face in kindergarten,” You snapped.

He pouted. “You remember that?”

You snickered. “Of course I do. That was the first time we met.”

“Yes, and you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Eric appeared out of nowhere, balancing the soccer ball on top of his shoe. “You what?” He watched the both of you intently.

You blushed, and shoved Sunwoo away after realizing just how close he was to you. “Nothing! I did nothing.”

“Are you okay?” You called out after realizing a boy had fallen on his face.

“I’m fine,” He had sniffled.

“Here, let me help you.” You beamed. You sat beside him for the next few minutes, putting bandages on his scratched knees. 

“Thank you,” He whispered.

Yeah, definitely childhood enemies.

Sunwoo smirked as he looked at you. “You’re still the same to this day, you know,” He replied.

“How so?”

“You like to take care of me.”

“I don’t,” You grumbled.

“Oh, so what was that water bottle doing right next to my locker when I said that I was thirsty?” He grinned.

You slapped a hand over his mouth urgently. “How did you know it was me?”

“On the piece of paper next to it. You still have similar handwriting from what I remember.” He winked.

(Sunwoo is a great teacher. But also a little excessive. Waist grabbing to teach how to kick? Someone’s awfully whipped. - Eric)

–

“Tell me I look good,” Eric pleaded. He began to practically hyperventilate, severely worrying you.

You set your hands on each of his shoulders.

“You look great. Very handsome.”

Eric whined. “Do you really mean it?”

“Mhm,” You nodded with a smile. “Now go. This is your first date, you can’t mess it up.”

He nodded, determined.

“Okay. I’ll text you after, okay?”

You smiled and waved goodbye. As he was walking out of the school grounds, he turned back around.

“I look good right?” He hollered again, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“You look hot!” You yelled back, waving and jumping up and down, causing Eric to double in laughter.

Once he was out of sight, you turned around, only to see Sunwoo sitting at a bench reading a book. You raised your eyebrows and went to take a seat next to him.

“You hate reading,” You finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh do I?” He looked up at you. 

“Yes. Unless you’re a changed man?”

“Definitely,” He dully remarked, turning back to his book. You studied him oddly. Something about his tone threw you off. It lacked emotion, almost like he was upset.

“…Sunwoo?” You leaned closer so that he would look at you.

“What?” He glanced at you briefly before gulping and turning back to his book. You could tell he wasn't reading a single word.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” He replied. Yet there wasn't even a hint of a smile on his face.

“Are you sure? You can tell me.”

He shut the book harshly before turning to you.

“I mean, if you’re going to call him handsome and…” He paused. “Hot. You might as well date him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Eric?”

“Yes, Eric,” He huffed grumpily.

You stared in utter disbelief. This was… different. He was looking back at you intently while being adorably frustrated. There was a crease between his eyebrows and a cute pout on his lips. Slowly, your frown began to grow into an endearing smile.

“Sunwoo,” You giggled. You took the book away, placing it down. Your hand wrapped around his, pulling it into his lap.

“What’re you doing?” He asked gruffly. You could hear the shakiness in his voice.

“Sunwoo,” You whispered. “Are you… jealous?”

“What? I’m not—“ He wrenched his hand away, his cheeks red. “I’m just annoyed that you call him handsome and all,” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “You don’t do that for me.”

Your smile only widened as you looked at him knowingly. His shoulders squared and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Now his ears have turned red.

“I’m not jealous,” He insisted, frowning endearingly.

“If you’re so sure about it then I guess I won’t call you handsome then…” You sighed, biting back a smile as you stood up from the bench. Suddenly, a hand caught onto your wrist.

“Wait. Are you really?” He looked up at you with round eyes.

You shrugged. “It’s a pity since you’re so certain that you’re not jealous.”

“No!” He blurted out. When he realized his volume he blushed even more. “No. I— I guess I was a bit jealous…”

“And?” You laughed, sitting back down.

“And… can you call me handsome now?” He hung his head low.

You laughed even louder. “Yes.” You cupped his face in your hands. “You are so handsome.”

You could see him visibly struggle to conceal his smile. 

“So handsome. So handsome I will faint,” You exaggerated. 

“Ah…” He mumbled, grabbing hold of your hands and trying to escape your hold. “That one time was enough.”

You ignored him. “But you’re so handsome!”

“Okay,” He whined, blushing intensely. “I— I get it.”

–

“You never told us what your hobby is.” You frowned, sitting next to your best friend after practice had ended. 

“Oh, right,” Eric replied. And then a smile grew on his face, slightly scaring you. “I’ll tell you first and then I’ll tell Sunwoo once he’s done.”

“Okay, what is it? You’re being awfully suspicious.”

He motioned you so that you would lean closer. He cupped his hands around your ear and whispered, “Dressing up.”

“Huh?” You pulled away in bewilderment, staring at him like he was the craziest man in the world. “Dressing up? Since when did you like to–”

“Shh,” He panicked, slapping a hand over your mouth. “Call it a guilty pleasure of mine.” He grinned.

You cringed. “Okay. So, what do you want us to do then?”

“Dress up?” He replied like it was the easiest thing ever. “Wear your fancy clothes or whatever. And then meet there.” He pointed at one of the goalposts. “Seven in the evening. Don’t be late.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to dress up though.”

“Trust me,” He pleaded. “It’ll be worth it.”

You sighed. “Fine, but only because we’re best friends.”

“Great!” He excitedly stood up. “See you there!”

“Mhm, all dressed up.” You rolled your eyes.

–

Just like he had requested, you stood under one of the soccer goalposts. The sky was orange, and the sun setting beautifully. And yes, you had attempted to dress up. You did your hair and everything, even wearing your nicer clothes. But, you didn’t enjoy standing there. All alone.

Maybe you were early, but there was no one else standing beside you. Sometimes you despised Eric for being so mysterious. You bit your lip nervously, pulling out your phone. You dialed Eric’s number and he picked up a few moments later.

“Eric? Where are you?”

“Oh, Y/n.” He laughed nervously. “About that… I uh– caught a cold.” He forced a cough out that was oddly suspicious. “So I can’t show up.”

“What?” You panicked. “So I did all this for nothing?”

“Don’t forget Sunwoo,” He sang. Before you could even reply, he had already hung up, leaving you stranded. You groaned, frustrated as you put your phone away. 

You were just about to grab your things and go back home but that was when you caught a figure in the background. A very familiar figure.

“Sunwoo?” You tilted your head.

He came into view. He definitely didn’t get the memo of dressing up but he somehow still looked good. He had a hand behind his back, hiding something.

“Did you–”

“Oh wow,” He breathed out, stepping forward as he looked you over. He gave you a soft smile. “You look really… nice.”

Already, you could feel your legs transform into jelly. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “But did you also dress up?”

Sunwoo looked at you with confusion. “Dress… up?” He pulled his hand away, only to reveal a bouquet of flowers. It was beautiful, filled with colorful tulips and carnations. You gulped at the sight, gazing at him with shock. 

“Sunwoo…” You uttered. “What is this?”

He pouted with puzzlement. “Did you not get flowers?”

You frowned. “...No. Eric told me that the thing was to dress up.”

“Huh.” He was deep in thought. “He told me that it was to make bouquets.”

“What?” And then it dawned on you. “Don’t tell me–”

He laughed, clutching the flowers to his chest. “This is a set-up.”

You snorted. “What’s the point of this? It looks almost like a love confession.”

He grew silent at that. 

“Don’t tell me he noticed...” You heard him mutter to himself quietly. 

You stepped closer. “Notice what?”

“Nothing.” He turned away. 

“No, tell me.” 

He sighed. “Well, I did make this for you,” He grumbled as he placed the flowers in your hand. You smiled as you observed how well it was made. The ribbon was tied neatly and the flowers were arranged beautifully. 

“Thank you, Sunwoo.” Your eyes sparkled.

He blushed, turning away.

“And what do you mean by you making this for me specifically?” You widened your eyes. 

“I found out that flowers have meanings so–” He pointed at the pink and red flowers. “The carnations and tulips both mean… love and affection.”

“Oh,” You dumbly replied. You laughed trying to ignore the pounding of your heart. “Are you in love with me or something?”

You had expected him to roll his eyes or deny it. But instead, he stayed quiet and looked at you with utmost sincerity, as if to silently tell you that,

Yes, I am.

You blinked, the flowers falling to your side.

“Sunwoo?”

“You have to listen to me first,” He said quietly. “I didn’t expect this to happen today but I guess Eric had other plans.”

You looked up at him softly. “For what to happen?”

“For me to tell you that…” He searched your eyes helplessly. “That I like you.”

You felt your whole world shift, almost making you drop the bouquet. “Wh–what?”

“I like you. A lot. And I have since all those years that we bickered as young kids. The reason why I teased you or stole your things was because I wanted you to pay attention to me. And I still tease you to this day because I like your cute reaction,” He rambled. “And I–”

“Don’t be nervous,” You whispered.

He sighed. “But you make me nervous.”

Your breath hitched, your grip on the bouquet tightening. 

“You make me so nervous that I become a fool,” He said. “I’m supposed to be calm and collected but when I’m with you, I… I get jealous and anxious. And I feel like I look stupid all the time.”

You shook your head. “That’s not—“

“And,” He groaned, blushing even more than before. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small that sat in the palm of his hand. “I still have this stupid crayon. Because I’m always thinking of you.”

You gaped at it, then looked back up at him. He no longer had the constant smug or teasing look, instead, it was replaced with an unsureness that made your eyes soften.

“Sunwoo.”

“I know,” He mumbled, looking away briefly. “This is sudden and I understand if you don’t like me back. I just needed to tell you at some point. It’s been years.”

“Years?” You whispered. You stepped closer after gently putting the flowers down. You placed a hand on the side of his face and you were pleasantly surprised to see him nuzzle into your touch. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “After all this time?”

He nodded nervously.

And then you laughed. You just couldn’t help it. He frowned cutely at you, humming in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“No I—“ Your eyes crinkled with a smile. “I just can’t believe it. I thought we were enemies this whole time.”

He whined, “God no, I really liked you. I still do.”

“For me, back then…”

His eyes brightened. “You liked me back too?”

You winced. “Okay, not really.” You eyed him sheepishly. “I did actually despise you in elementary school.”

Sunwoo laughed lightheartedly.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you right now.”

“Well I would hope that you don’t hate m— what?” He swallowed thickly, studying your features with a mixture of disbelief and undying hope. “You like me?”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Why’re you so surprised?”

“Because I’m a complete loser.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who said I don’t like this complete loser?” You teased, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “And besides, you’re not really. You’re cute and sweet.”

He choked.

“I like this side of you,” You continued.

“Which one?” He asked shyly.

“The one where you always look out for me.” You searched his eyes tenderly. “The one who always blocks me from getting hit by a soccer ball and the one who always checks up on me when I’m tired. That side of you.”

“Of course,” He answered softly, turning to press a small kiss to the palm of your hand, causing you to stutter over a breath. “It’s only natural.”

You grinned.

“Then it’s only natural that I do this then.” Before he could get a single word out, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You lingered there for a moment, trying to process your own mess of feelings, before pulling away with reddening cheeks.

His eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated as he gazed at you with so much admiration that you couldn’t help but shy away, pulling your hand with you.

And then he spoke again, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“You deserve a yellow card for that.”

You pouted. Soccer terms were the death of you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He chuckled. “It was foul play.”

You bit back a smile, looking at him shyly. “How so?”

You gasped when you felt two hands on your waist, pulling you in close and right up to his chest. His eyes had never once left yours after the kiss on his cheek. He only continued to gaze at you lovingly.

“You were supposed to kiss me on the lips.” He smiled softly. 

“Oh.” You rolled your eyes. “Well I’m sorry, Mr. Referee that I—“

“Blah, blah.” He smirked. “Make it up to me then.”

“As a matter of fact,” You huffed, with fake annoyance. “I will.” Your hand came up to the back of his neck and you pulled him right against his lips, making him manage out a mmph noise. Butterflies immediately filled your stomach to its very brim when his hold on your waist tightened and he began to tilt his head to deepen the kiss.

Soon enough, he began to smile into it, even breathing out a husky laugh that only turned the butterflies in your stomach into literal cartwheels. When he pulled away eventually, he still lingered on your lips, pressing small pecks on them which made you giggle.

You could see clearly that he was in a daze with the way his eyes were blanked out and his cheeks were flushed adorably. 

“I think I just scored the best goal in my life.”

You erupted with laughter at that, pulling him into a hug as you hid your face in the crook of his shoulder. 

“When you like someone you become so cheesy,” You laughed. “It’s hilarious.”

“Specifically because I like you.” He pulled away, searching your face with fondness. “I can’t help it.”

He took your hand in his, bringing it up to his chest, right where his heartbeat was. You widened your eyes, but you also weren’t that surprised to find that his heart was pounding rapidly. 

“See?” He frowned.

You giggled. “That’s so cute. You’re so cute.”

He struggled to contain a shy grin. 

“You should have this back.” He placed the crayon in your hand. It was your favorite color and it sort of looked foolish in your hand, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Sorry for stealing it in the first place…”

You stared at it, feeling all the fond memories rush through your brain. You did contemplate keeping it, but instead, you threw it behind you, letting it land somewhere among the grass of the soccer field.

“What was that for?” He groaned. 

“I only like you.” You giggled. “You’re my favorite now,” You joked. "A great kisser too." 

You had expected Sunwoo to retort with a comeback or tease you like he usually did. But instead, he blushed. Maybe you broke him after that kiss.

“You can't just casually say that,” He said with a pout and a bothered huff. “That’s your second yellow card. Which technically means a red card.”

“And what’s that?” You smiled slyly.

“Penalty. So come kiss me again please.”

You rolled your eyes. Taking hold of his collar, you pulled him into another kiss in which he happily obliged with an adorable hum.

Walking back home together, it seemed that Sunwoo couldn't keep his lips off you.

"For the project, what grade do you think we'll ge- mm?" You were interrupted by his lips on yours once again. You stared at him, bewildered. "At least let me talk, Sunwoo."

He pressed another kiss to your lips. And then two more on each of your cheeks. And then one on your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut with mortification.

"No can do," He replied, smirking slightly. "You look too pretty for me not to kiss you. Like you do everyday."

You clutched the bouquet close to your heart. Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

(eric when i find u im going to kill u -Y/n)

(ahhh ur so scaryyyyyyy -Eric)

Grade: 95% (-5 points for bad grammar.)

–

“Eric!” You yelled, running toward him with one fist already raised. Your other hand was… preoccupied. With holding Sunwoo’s hand as he trailed after you like a lost puppy.

Eric snickered at the sight, even pulling out his phone to take a picture of you practically dragging your boyfriend along.

“Hey, at least give me the credit for getting you together!” He shouted back as you approached him. “I had to set it up. You both were getting frustrating.”

“We didn’t need your help.” You glared.

Eric raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sunwoo. “I don’t know. I could tell he was too shy to say anything, hence why I–” He pointed at himself proudly. “–had to come in. You should’ve seen how focused he was when making that bouquet. He is in love.”

“Are you?” You grinned, facing Sunwoo. His ears had tinted red, funnily enough.

He shrugged, trying to act completely normal. “Maybe, maybe not.” Yet he refused to look you in the eye.

You turned back to Eric, only to see him smiling knowingly. You laughed, already knowing what he was going to say. It seems that best friends share the same thoughts.

“He is so in love,” Eric whispered, cupping his hand around his mouth.

“Shut up,” Sunwoo grumbled. Yet he continued to gaze at you with heart eyes.

“traffic fine” of $40 sounds quite accurate too 😆

𝓜𝐒. & 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐒𝐇

(𝓹airing) — psh x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓯renemies to lovers ; fluff, profanity, & lots of kissing (𝔀ordcount) one-thousand five-hundred forty 𝓹eng's note. these pics. #iWantThat 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon

“you’re late,” sunghoon says in the most agitating voice possible as you walk through the classroom door.

“i wouldn’t be late if you did your job,” you huff, walking right up to the desk he sat at and dropping the bags of decorations you had picked up from the party supplies store.

“hey! i said i would pick those up!” he says annoyed, sifting through everything you brought.

“mrs. kim said we needed them by today! why the fuck were you just sitting around?” 

“geez, loosen up,” the boy gets up from his seat, his tall body looming over yours. “let’s just go decorate the gym.”

the two of you split up the bags of party supplies and headed towards the gym where the rest of the council and student volunteers were waiting. 

setting up for the fundraiser was easy until you and sunghoon started yelling at each other over which color streamers should be used over the doorway. 

jake had to drag you away by the shoulders to come to help him with the balloons. sunghoon felt a bitter taste when he saw jake with his arm around your shoulder but decided to ignore it. 

“hoon,” jungwon calls out. “we’re out of balloons!”

“that’s why i should have bought the decorations…” sunghoon mutters under his breath before walking up to where you and jake were giggling. 

sunghoon walks up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “we have to go back to the store.” he whispers in your ear. 

you freeze at his touch but nod and say goodbye to jake. he lets go of you and the two of you walk out the exit leading to the parking lot.

the two of you get into sunghoon’s car and he drives off to the mall. 

there’s an awkward silence between the both of you, which you can’t decide if you like bantering with him over it. there’s so much tension due to sunghoon’s lingering touch from earlier.

once inside the mall, you quietly walked side by side into the automatic doors. 

only a few feet from the party supplies stores you halt. spotting your ex-boyfriend and old friend seemingly on a date.

“sunghoon,” you whisper, tapping on his shoulder. “do you see what i see?”

he rolls his eyes at you finally breaking the silence but then looks up to see for himself. once he does that the two seem to have had the same idea, making eye contact with the other.

“oh shit they saw us,” he panics, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the photo booth you were conveniently standing next to.   

the photo booth is small. way too small. sunghoon is already sitting as you uncomfortably sit on the ledge with your legs peeking out from the curtain. 

“get up,” he instructs. 

“what?” you raise an eyebrow. “i’m not letting them see me again! especially not with you!”

“i meant like come here,” sunghoon grabs you and settles you on his lap, so the both of you fit into the small space.

“oh my god, what if they come over here!” you panic resting your hands on his shoulders. “this is bad! especially since i’m with you of all people-”

“with me?” sunghoon questions. 

“well, like when we were dating, he always thought you had a crush on me, which isn’t impossible! i had to keep reassuring him but he never believed me! like me and you are barely even friends-” you ramble, balling sunghoon’s shirt in your fists as you freak out. 

“woah, calm down,” he tells you, prying your hands from his uniform so you don’t wrinkle it. “it’s not like they’ll come to talk to us.”

just as the words left his mouth the sound of two sets of footsteps were picked up by your ears. you started to become overwhelmingly nervous. it was the first time seeing your ex-boyfriend since the split and the fact your childhood best friend was on a date with him. 

even if you drifted, shouldn’t she have some sense of girl code?

“you’re shaking,” sunghoon stares at you. 

“no i’m not!” you shake your head, your heartbeat being undeniably fast. “but like i haven’t had a date since him and that’s kind of sad for me-”

“i swear i saw her,” the familiar voice of your old friend says, sounding so close. “it could have been anyone though.”

“no, i saw her and that motherfucker,” your ex hisses. 

“wow, i’m ‘motherfucker’,” sunghoon whispers, rolling his eyes.

“if he made a move on her i swear.”

“hey, i have an idea,” he says in your ear. 

sunghoon reaches for his phone out of his pocket, holding you close as he leans over slightly to pay the machine for a photo. the screen activates after processing his card and he selects a random frame. 

the camera starts going and you sit confused as sunghoon starts posing. you can’t help but watch him. he always looks pretty but you must admit he knows how to pose. 

you peek over to the curtain to see two pairs of legs standing outside the photo booth. you can only assume it’s them. 

“you weren’t looking in any of them,” sunghoon recalls, pressing print on the screen. 

“oh, sorry,” you turn your attention back to him. 

“it’s fine, let's do another one,” he says nonchalantly as he pays for another photo strip.

this time sunghoon shifts in his spot, making it so that your face can be seen on the screen without having to turn you around in his lap.

you awkwardly copy sunghoon’s poses until by the second to last picture you hear him again.

“that fucker is in the photo booth,” the male voice outside says, seeing as he drops the photo strip back into where it fell from. 

“come closer,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“fine,” you lean onto him. “but don’t show my face too much. i’m not wearing concealer today.”

“you look just as pretty,” sunghoon leans closer so your lips barely brush the others. “maybe even prettier than usual.”

he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, gently stroking it before closing the gap. 

you hate to admit it but kissing sunghoon was everything you expected and more. you’ve caught yourself daydreaming about his lips on yours during one-on-one meetings in the conference room. when his hair is still damp from his after-shower practice and his face is still slightly flushed.

park sunghoon can make you mad, especially when he got secretary over you in freshman year. but you cannot deny that even when bitter about the council's choice you wanted to kiss that proud smile on his face. 

he made you mad when he stole your posters when you were running for secretary again the next year. but after he found you crying in the far stairwell he explained he only did that because he thinks you should run for president instead. sunghoon even pulled out another stack of flyers he made for you that he spent the whole night doing.

the sunghoon that got you both kicked out of a council meeting for arguing with each other is the same sunghoon with his lips molded perfectly against yours. 

the same boy that had you studying your ass off when class ranks came out, since he’s your only competition, is the same boy in front of you now with his lips locked on yours.

you start to feel dizzy by the decreased amount of air in your lungs by the minute but you can’t bring yourself to let go just yet. when you start seeing black specs dotting your vision you finally pull away to see a heavily panting sunghoon with a flushed face. 

“sorry,” sunghoon apologizes as he catches his breath.

your heart sinks. he only kissed you to distract you and probably so your ex will see the photos when they print.

“oh,” you fight the frown threatening to appear on your face. “it’s okay. he’s probably gone now.”

“i would have asked for your permission but you looked really stressed and i thought it would help you get your mind off your asshole ex.”

“thanks,” you say with a pout sunghoon finds adorable.

“you still seem sad,” he pokes at your sides, making you squirm in his hold. “maybe another kiss?”

“maybe,” you say shyly. 

sunghoon is out forty dollars by the time you and he are done kissing in the photo booth. he kept mindlessly swiping his card as his lips stayed on yours to prevent anyone from kicking you two out since you were there for a considerable amount of time.

you’re interrupted by sunghoon’s phone ringing profusely. 

“where are you two?” jungwon asks in a panic. “we need those balloons.”

“traffic,” sunghoon says as you plant a line of kisses down his neck, hands tangled in the hair at his nape.

“hurry up,” jungwon advises him.

you and sunghoon return to school an hour and a half after you originally left. with a bag of balloons and a stack of photo strips. most of them capturing purely just of you two making out.

when stepping foot in the gym and you go over to hand jungwon the balloons he so desperately needed. he quickly notices the matching hickeys forming on both your necks and how disheveled your uniforms and hair appear.

“traffic huh?” jungwon asks as his eyes flicker between both of you.

"lots," you nod as you walk away to help minjeong tie balloons.

title: Dreams Do Come True

pairing: dino x afab!reader

request: 30,37,40,44 as smut(+ what ever else you want!!) with Chan (seventeen)

genre: roomates to lovers, enemies to lovers, smut warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), slightly dom!chan, degradation, praise

synopsis: You hate your roommate, but what will you do when the rent is cheap and you have a roof over your head? One night you have a wet dream about him, and decide to call up your friend to tell him about it - what you don't know is that your roommate is right next to him, listening to every word.

wordcount: 4.9k

taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang rating: 18+

prompts: 30. "i heard what you said last night" 37. "i want to hear you say it" 40. "stop acting like you were never in love with me" 44. "you need someone. let me be that person. let me be what you need"

a/n: idk why i decided that chan was gonna be so aggressive in this, but here we are-

join my taglist

masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"You need someone. let me be that person. let me be what you need, baby." Chan whispered, his mouth so close to the heat between your thighs that you could feel his breath.

"Please, Chan- I need you, so bad," you whimpered.

"Let me take you to heaven then..." He smiled confidently, cocky as always...

... and then you woke up. Your eyes widened as you realized what you had just been dreaming about. Getting eaten out by your roommate, let alone a roommate who has been annoying you for as long as you've lived together? There was no way... he was attractive, of course, but that didn't mean that you thought of him in that way. Or maybe you did considering the fact that you were getting wet just thinking about what that dream could've led you to... No! You were not into Lee Chan! You had to call someone... anyone... someone who would be awake this late...

"Jihoon!" you said as soon as he answered the phone, and you could hear him let out a startled yelp at the sudden loud noise.

"Fuck, why are you calling so late?" He groaned.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"So then hear me out!"

Jihoon was your best friend of several years, and was the one who got you the apartment you're staying in right now. You're sure he wouldn't be thrilled about you telling him of your weird dream about his other friend, but he was the only one you could talk to at the moment. If you didn't talk to someone you would be left alone with your thoughts, and right now that was worse than the awkward tension you would feel with Jihoon later.

"... tell me, then." He sighed and kept typing at his keyboard.

The sound reminded you of where he was. His very public studio, where many of his would come by to hang out. A sudden nervous feeling hit you at the thought of someone else hearing what you had to say.

"Am I on speaker?" you asked.

"Yup." He sounded unbothered as he kept typing on his keyboard.

"Is anyone there?"

He took a while to answer, almost like he was checking around the room to see if anyone was there.

"Nah..." he answered eventually.

"Okay good, so..." You cleared your throat.

"Get on with it, I have work to do." He sighed once again, as if he wasn't your best friend who was supposed to care about your problems.

"I just had a wet dream about my roommate." You groaned.

"The one you think is annoying?" He was surprisingly calm about your words, despite you confessing to having had dirty dreams about his friend.

"Yeah, which other roommate do I have?"

"So, Chan then?" He chuckled. "You called me to tell me you had a wet dream about my friend?"

"You're the only one that's up this late! If I don't tell anyone I think I'm going to explode," you explained.

"Shouldn't you be talking a bit quieter? What if he hears you? The walls in your apartment aren't super thick," Jihoon said in a monotone voice.

"He's out now, probably drinking with his friends or something- I don't know!" You felt on edge, and the only way to solve it, according to your brain, was to keep talking about it. "Do you wanna know what the worst part is?"

"Tell me," he said.

"He was still just as arrogant as he is in real life." You sighed, "And I was still gonna let him hit."

Jihoon bursted out laughing, the sound of his keyboard stopping for a moment. His chair was squeaking, and you could picture him throwing his head back. Your face grew hot, regretting your words.

"Stop it!" you exclaimed. "Seriously, it's not funny! It's devastating and disturbing! Me? And him? Never in a million years!"

"So you wouldn't do it with him?" he questioned, finally calming down from his laughter.

"Only if I were desperate," you admitted and pulled your covers further up over you chest. "Which I'm not, so no!"

"You sure about that? I mean, every time we talk you complain about not having a boyfriend... and now you had a dream about Chan. Maybe you are desperate," he said calmly.

"Shit... you're right. What if i'm desperate? Ugh, Jihoon... I won't be able to look him in the eyes tomorrow..." You groaned.

"What does that have to do with me?"

For being your friend, Jihoon was certainly not very supportive in your time of need. He wasn't always like this, he usually comforted you when you came to him with your problems. Now he was acting as if he had been expecting this all along.

"You're the one who set me up with this apartment!" you exclaimed.

"Well, I didn't force you to fall in love with him," he countered.

"I'm not in love with him!"

"Yeah, sure." Jihoon scoffed and continued his typing.

Chan was annoying and arrogant, you would never fall in love with him. You sighed as you thought over Jihoon's words. Sure, your roommate was attractive... muscular, nice bone structure, pretty face... he probably had a big- no. You couldn't be thinking of him like this, he was your sworn enemy!

"Y/N, I'm gonna hang up now." Jihoon interrupted your train of thought.

"Fine, leave me alone to suffer. Traitor..."

"Just go back to sleep, maybe you could finish what you started with Chan." Jihoon snickered.

"Shut the fuck up, I shouldn't have called you!" You groaned.

"You really shouldn't have." His snickering continued, but you paid no attention to it.

You hung up quickly and stared at your ceiling. How would you ever look Chan in the eyes again? You had to move or something, fast.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee. You could tell from the scent that it was the good kind, the fancy full beans you had to ground up before putting in the machine. You never had the time to make it, usually settling for the coffee powder instead. Your roommate, however, had grown accustomed to a special cup of coffee in the morning. It was another way you would make fun of him to your friends behind his back. Chan was probably making breakfast in the kitchen right now... you didn't want to go there and have to interact with him... but coffee...

With quick steps you walked to the kitchen. You didn't have time to get dressed, only wearing the big t-shirt you wore to bed over your underwear. It didn't matter, you would be in and out of the kitchen within seconds. You only had one mission: coffee.

"Good morning," Chan greeted you as you got into the kitchen.

Shit. As soon as you heard his voice, your knees started trembling. Maybe the trip to the kitchen was a bad idea - a sign that you shouldn't always act on your impulses - but there was no turning back now.

"Ah... hey," you said.

I'm so screwed.

"Do you want some coffee?" he asked and took out a cup.

He stretches up his arm to the cupboard, revealing how well toned his biceps are. His shirt rides up a little too, exposing his slim waist. You mentally slap yourself for staring.

"Thanks," you mutter out.

Chan pours you a cup of coffee from the pot of coffee that he had just made. Fresh coffee in the morning should wake you up. Chan looked delicious in that tight, black t-shirt, and his plaid pajama pants. The universe had something against you this morning. You accepted the mug he gave you, and accidentally touched his hand in the process. For a second, you swore that you felt your heart skip a beat. Why were you suddenly so affected by everything that he did? You need to remember that he was irritating, arrogant... and so hot...

"God damnit..." you whispered.

"What was that?" Chan asked with a knowing smile on his face.

"Oh? Hm.. nothing. It's nothing," you muttered and leaned against the counter.

"Were you up late last night?" he asked unprovoked.

"No- no... why do you ask?" You cleared your throat.

"You just seem a bit out of it. I thought that maybe you didn't get enough sleep." He shrugged, making you feel stupid for worrying.

"Wow, I've never seen you this considerate." You fell into your usual habit of bickering with him.

"Oh, I'm a considerate person," he said, "but I'm especially considerate in bed."

You almost spat out your coffee. Chan looked up at you with a look of fake surprise on his stupid face. You put your cup down on the counter. This couldn't be a coincidence. He was usually annoyingly flirty, but Chan was never so direct.

"... did Jihoon tell you something?" you asked.

"No, I heard what you said last night. All of it." Chan looked down in his mug.

You were lucky that you had put down your cup, otherwise you would've dropped it now. Instead, your heart dropped from your chest down to your stomach.

"How could you hear that, weren't you out with-" You realized that when he said he was going out to drinks with friends, Jihoon was obviously included in that. "Did anyone else hear?!"

"The other guys had gone to another bar by then, some had gone home too." He grinned. "It was just Jihoon and I in the studio, don't worry about it."

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Why did Jihoon say there was no one there? Why would he be so casual about your dream if Chan was right there with him?

"... but Jihoon told me to speak quieter in case you were in the other room..." you muttered.

"He's smart, you know? He didn't want to blow my cover," Chan said nonchalantly.

"Why would he do that?"

"He's been trying to set us up since the beginning, he told me last night." He took another sip of his coffee before putting his mug down.

"Pfft- why would he set us up together? That doesn't make any sense-"

"Stop acting like you were never in love with me for these past few years." Chan had caged you in by putting his hands on either side of the counter behind you.

"I've never-"

"I see the way you look at me when you think I can't see you." Chan interrupted you. "Whether you can admit it or not, there's something between us."

Never in your life had you expected this to happen to you. You gulped, and tried to back up - but you couldn't go any further back. The cold counter burned through the thin material of your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I can admit it, Y/N," He said quietly. "Whenever you're around I can't think straight, I feel a constant need to impress you, there's something about you that is so incredibly magnetic to me... I can't stand it."

"So why don't you do something about it?" you asked, a sudden wave of confidence hitting you.

Both of you stared intensely at each other, not daring to break eye contact. Chan finally gave in, swearing under his breath before smashing his lips onto yours. The kiss was heated, both of you trying to fight for dominance. Years of tension between you and your roommate started pouring out of you. Your back pressed against the counter as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him closer. His tongue roamed your mouth, his lips tasting like the stupid coffee he buys. Chan pushed his knee between your legs, letting your core rub up against his thigh. You let out a satisfied hum against his lips, and broke the kiss to catch your breath.

"We're doing this then?" Chan panted out.

"I'll swear vengeance on your entire fucking bloodline if you don't fuck me right now," you deadpanned.

"It'll be my pleasure.," he said and lifted you up.

You wrapped your arms around his neck again, and your legs around his waist. As he carried you away to his bedroom, he kissed you again but you stopped him. One of your hands pressed against his chest, and you pulled away from his lips.

"There's no way we're having sex for the first time in your room, go to my room!"

"God, you're so difficult!"

Despite his complaining, Chan turned on his heel and walked to your room. It was still messy from the night before, you hadn't bothered to clean up before going into the kitchen - to be fair, you hadn't imagined yourself in this position at that point. Your roommate paid no attention to the mess, and approached your bed with long steps. Chan threw you on your bed and pulled off his shirt, throwing it to the side before getting on top of you. His thin silver chain dangled in your face, and you resisted the urge to pull him down by it.

"Where do you keep your condoms?" he asked.

"... I don't have any condoms," you replied, stunned by the question.

"Fucking-" He took a deep breath. "This is why we should've gone to my room. Why don't you have any condoms?"

"I haven't had sex in a while! Unlike you, I don't indulge in causal sex with random people from the bar!" you retorted back.

"I don't have casual sex either, what are you talking about?"

"Then why can I hear-" You stopped yourself at the realization and your eyes widened. "Oh my god, why are you so loud when masturbating?"

"Why are you listening to me masturbate!?"

"If I could close my ears, I would!" you said, and then gasped. "Do you think of me when you masturbate?"

You absolutely loved teasing him, even if your claims had no proof. This time, however, you had some kind of proof - seeing as he did admit that he's been thinking about you.

"... don't ask me that!" Chan's ears turned bright red.

"You actually do!?" You laughed.

"What about you then? Hm? After you had that wet dream about me, what did you do?" He was back on top of you, incredibly close, and his voice was suddenly more aggressive.

"... that's my business." Now it was your turn to get flustered.

"Exactly, so don't-"

"Oh shut up, would you?" You pulled on his chain, bringing him in for another kiss.

You couldn't help yourself, you smiled against his lips - why was the thought of him getting off to you almost cute? Chan could talk big game, but he probably had to go jerk off if he saw you wearing a short skirt. Your arms wrapped around him, feeling the muscles on his back.

"Seriously though, I still have to go get a condom," he muttered against your lips.

"I'm on the pill, just go for it," you murmured.

"Really?" He pulled away from you again.

"Yes, I don't care - you said you hadn't had sex in a while, right? So you don't have any diseases?"

"What? No."

"Great, then please just make me cum already."

He pulled off your shirt, wanting to get as close to you as possible. You hadn't worn a bra under it, and he immediately started groping your tits - his lips still attached to yours.

"I want to taste you," he murmured as he pulled away from you.

"Be my guest."

Chan kissed down your neck, to the sensitive skin of your chest. He relished in your soft whimpers as he nipped at the pebbled buds. As much as he loved the way you squirmed from his touch, he had a mission on his hands. His hands traveled further down, and his lips followed suit. He pulled off your panties and started kissing your inner thighs.

"What did I do in your dream, princess?" The nickname rolled off so easily from his tongue, you could've thought that he had called you that for ages.

The sun shined bright outside your window, but your yellow-tinted blinds left the room with a dimmed golden light dusted across every surface. It left a halo-like glow around Chan's head. You reached down to caress chan's cheek, and he quickly pressed a kiss to your palm. If you could just forget about all of your bickering for a moment, and just soak in this undivided loving attention you were getting, that would bring you ecstasy. As his words finally met your ears, you started grinning at the thought of your dream.

"Well, we didn't get very far because I woke up... but it wasn't far off from what you're doing right now," you said. "And you said something about taking me to heaven."

"Then I'll do that for you now." He placed a final kiss to your thigh before making his way towards pussy.

The lewd sounds coming from his mouth, combined with the amazing feeling of his tongue on your clit, made you absolutely lose it. You moaned out loudly, not caring if your neighbor were to complain later; because all that mattered was that Chan didn't stop whatever magic he was doing to your body.

"Please, don't stop..." you moaned.

He hummed against you, bringing up a finger to your cunt. You moaned out a "yes", and he started thrusting his fingers inside of you at your command. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling gently at it - making him groan against you, and the vibrations only sending you closer to your climax.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..." you whined.

Chan got the message loud and clear, and kept going in a steady pace. You came all over his face, riding out your high on his fingers. You finally opened your eyes and looked at chan, who wore a cocky grin. He pushed his fingers, covered in your orgasm, past your lips, and you eagerly sucked on them. As he pushed them further down, you gagged around them - your still needy cunt clenching around nothing.

"So, did I take you to heaven?" he asked, taking his fingers away from your lips.

"I think you almost did." You took a deep breath. "... why are you so good at that?"

"I'm a man of many talents."

"Apparently..." You scoffed. "Want me to repay the favor?"

You were quick to untie Chan's pants and pull them down along with his underwear. You watched as his cock slapped against against his toned abdomen, he looked to be slightly bigger than average - but nothing you couldn't handle. You spit on your hand and grabbed his shaft, slowly stroking it up and down.

"Fuck..." Chan sighed.

"Was it all you ever imagined it to be?" you teased him.

He looked down on you, a dominant look in his eyes. His hand cupped your cheek gently, before his fingers tangled themselves in your hair and pulled.

"Suck," he said hoarsely.

Not knowing why, you did as he said and took his cock in your mouth. Chan let out another sigh as you started to bob your head. His fingers didn't leave your hair, and as you tried to touch yourself he gently tugged at it again.

"Don't," he said, in that same dominating tone that made you weak in the knees. "Now keep your eyes on me, princess."

You heard yourself moan at his words, not realizing that you were even doing it. At the sound of your desperate, muffled whines, Chan pulled you off of him, and leaned down to be on eye level with you.

"Do you like it when I tell you what to do?" He grinned proudly. "This is really unexpected, princess."

You let out a short whimper at the pet name, as you found yourself growing very fond of it. He pulled you up from your place on your knees, and pushed you onto the bed again.

"Get on your hands and knees for me," he said.

You did as he asked, and gasped as his hands strongly gripped your hips. The least you expected was a warning, but you didn't even get that as he shoved his cock inside of you - making your arms give out under you. You felt how he placed a few chaste kisses along your spine before he started thrusting.

"So you like being told what to do, despite always talking back to me...", he pondered out loud. "What other things have you been hiding from me, Y/N?"

Your face was buried in your pillows, muffling your moans. Chan landed a smack on your ass, and gently massaged the area were his hand had hit. He grabbed your hair again and pulled you back, pressing your back against his chest. He kept thrusting into you shallowly, but it was enough to keep you whining and moaning.

"Would you tell me, princess?" he asked in a fake sugar sweet tone, cooing as you whined for him. "What is it that makes you wet by just thinking about it? Come on... I want to hear you say it."

He stopped thrusting into you, instead bringing his fingers to your clit rubbing quick circles. You couldn't bring yourself to answer, instead you found yourself desperately trying to grind down on his cock.

"I haven't already ruined your little brain, have I?" He started kissing your neck.

At this point you were a moaning mess, trying your best to reach your high once again. It was as he said - he had ruined your brain, brought you to a state of pure bliss where no thoughts could reach you. You could only think of his cock that stayed so deep inside you - you could barely register the feeling of his soft lips fluttering against your neck.

"So pretty like this... all fucked out on my cock," he murmured against your skin. "Maybe you're just a slut for my cock, hm? Is that why you've been listening to me masturbate? Playing with yourself as you listen to me moaning... is that why you're having dreams about me? Do you want my cock that bad that even your subconscious makes up little stories for you? Maybe you're touching yourself just thinking about me at night, hoping that I'll come into your room and fuck your brains out?"

"Chan please..." you moaned.

"Please what, princess?"

"Please make me cum- I want you to cum inside me..." Your voice was weak, but Chan heard you loud and clear.

He pushed you back down, your face falling back in the pillows, and started thrusting hard and fast into you. At this point he had you screaming, lucky for the neighbors that your voice was muffled by the pillows.

"I'm so close!" you managed to get out between your blabbering moans.

But as you said so, he pulled out of you - leaving your hole empty and clenching around nothing. You were about to start fighting him, but then he flipped you over. His face was flushed red, his hair a mess, and his eyes were filled with lust.

"I want to see your face when I make you cum," he said and aligned himself with your entrance again.

"Fuck you, Chan," you managed to say before he started thrusting into you again.

He didn't respond, only grinned - because he knew that he had won as soon as he had gotten you to beg for him. He was right, but you wouldn't admit that. Your moans started growing louder again, and he shoved two fingers inside your mouth to keep you quiet. You sucked on them, swirling your tongue around his digits, and closing your eyes in pleasure.

"Such a good slut for me..." he grunted. "Do you need to have all of your holes filled up to be satisfied, huh?"

You were getting close to your high, but so was he. He took his fingers out of your mouth to grip your hips harder, and you wrapped both your arms and legs around him. You were getting close again, and Chan could tell. Because you didn't want him to rob you of your orgasm again, you decided to give up your pride.

"Please let me cum, Chan!" you moaned.

Had you been looking at his face right now, you would've seen the utter shock in his eyes. He almost came right then, because it was honestly the hottest thing he had ever heard you say. He took his chance as you had your eyes closed to compose himself.

"Cum for me, princess," he whispered in your ear.

As you reached your high, you desperately clawed at his back, moaning out his name over and over again. Chan came right after you, releasing himself inside of you like you had asked him to. He crashed into your pillows, right beside you. His dick was still inside of you, and he was heaving, but he pulled your body close to his; and for some reason you welcomed his embrace by wrapping your arms around him.

"I didn't know you were so good at sex..." you said between heavy breaths. "You are the filthiest fucker I know."

Chan laughed at your comment, and then almost lovingly looked at your face. He moved to sit more comfortably, both of you moaning at the overstimulating sensation. Your muscles tensed and relaxed as Chan started drawing small circles on your skin with his fingertips. He was looking you in the eye again, now slightly more amused.

"You look so fucked." He chuckled.

"So do you," you retorted. "... did I scratch you before?"

"You did." Chan nodded. "But it's alright, I don't mind."

The two of you laid there in silence, looking at each other breathing. You hadn't felt so calm in forever. To think that Chan would bring you this peace was unthinkable, as he was usually the cause to your headaches. But as he laid there, smiling ever so slightly, you realized that there was no one else you would like to be like this with.

"Are you okay?" he suddenly asked. "I know I got pretty rough, I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"The lee chan, apologizing to me? That's a first." You giggled. "I'm fine, I just need to clean up."

"Let me help you, then."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When lee chan offered to help you, you thought he would at least get you a towel and at most carry you to the bathroom. However, here you were: in a bathtub that smelled of florals, enjoying a relaxing bath that Chan had drawn up for you. Maybe he wasn't lying when he said he was a considerate lover. Chan had quickly showered and gotten dressed, but walked back to the bathroom to check on you.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks," you said with a warm smile.

"Just call on me when you want to get out," he said.

"I will." You watched as he started walking out. "Chan?"

He turned around to look at you. A clump started forming in your throat, the words you needed to say lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"What does this make us?" you asked.

"Not just roommates anymore, at least." He pushed his hands in his pockets. "... I don't know. It's complicated, but we can figure it out."

You nodded, and watched him leave. You hadn't imagined yourself to feel such warmth for Chan, and yet here you were. Maybe Jihoon was right in trying to set up the two of you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . BONUS . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days later you were walking to the kitchen to get yourself a snack. You heard talking and looked over at the couch, finding Jihoon sitting down with Chan. Jihoon's back was turned against you, and as soon as Chan saw you he gave you a soft smile. A silent 'hello', that left your heart feeling light. Jihoon turned around to look at you and then back at Chan. As the cogs started turning in his brain, he scoffed.

"So you two fucked finally?" he blurted out nonchalantly.

"What?! No!" you and Chan exclaimed in unison.

Jihoon could see right through you, and hummed disapprovingly at your lies. You and Chan looked down to the floor, giving yourselves away.

"I guess some people owe me money, then." Jihoon grinned. "Did you start dating too?"

"People bet money on us?" Chan asked.

"Yeah, and I'll get more money if you actually started dating afterwards - so?"

You and Chan looked at each other. There had been no time to actually talk it through, you had just been trying to get used to not bickering with each other - and certain other benefits your new relationship brought. Chan raised his eyebrows a bit, as if to ask you if it was okay with you. You nodded.

"We're dating," he answered, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Okay, I need you to tell me when you've decided to tell other people, so that I can start reminding people that they owe me money," Jihoon said.

You gave Chan a look, his big grin made you smile and look away - suddenly flustered at Jihoon's words. How long had the two of you been oblivious? You obviously had a lot of time to make up for...

Chaos in Their Bones Ch.8

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

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

Words: 30.8k

A/N:  Whelp. Here she is. The beginning of the climax. A gigantic piece of a chapter that hopefully has everything you all hoped it would be. Just know she is hefty. If there are any errors or anything I will have to die on that hill. So many important things happen this chapter and I can’t wait to see how everyone is feeling once you’ve read this hefty hefty girl. I did take some inspiration from the Salem Witch Trials. You’ve all been warned. And as always: Thank You. For always being so kind and loving my story as much as you all do. I hope you all continue to enjoy it 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Previous

Warnings: mentions of torture, use of OPLA dialogue, swearing 

Zoro could’ve gone a whole lifetime without ever having to see this clown again. By the way Usopp and Sanji weren’t acting the least bit surprised to see Buggy, it informed him that they must have seen him already. And if Usopp and Sanji met Buggy did that mean you had, as well? When would that have even happened? 

Zoro’s brain struggled to think about how the clown had even shown up at Baratie. It didn’t take him long to realize that he must have come on the back of one of the fishmen that attacked Baratie. On one of the fishmen who’d taken you. Buggy was back to trying to spit the sand off his bottom lip and, for the first time, Zoro thanked whatever high and mighty power was listening that they had one last moment of silence. 

“It doesn’t get any easier looking at him like this.”

“He’s even more of a pain in the ass when he has all of his parts,” Zoro retorted. “Be grateful it’s just the head.”

He was still trying to decide if he shouldn’t just stuff him back in the bag and throw him overboard. Buggy’s…neck was bouncing around the table as if he was looking for something - someone - specific. Zoro could feel a fresh surge of irritation rush through him just before the stupid clown opened his mouth. 

“Why is it such a sausage fest all of the sudden, huh? What happened to the ladies? Did they finally come to their senses and realize what a group of shit-tastic waste of time you all are?”

“Why is he still allowed to talk?” Sanji asked, walking around the other side of the island. 

“Because he is going to tell us where to find Nami and Doc,” Luffy replied. 

He looked so hopeful. Zoro wished he could share the same feeling, but he wouldn’t trust this clown within an inch of his life. But if it meant whatever information he gave led him to where you were, well…

“And my body! Don’t forget about my body.”

“Your body comes at the price of information, Bungy.”

“Oh, for crying out loud! It’s Buggy!”

“No one cares about your name, clown,” Zoro bit out. “We just need the coordinates.”

When the cold blue of Buggy’s eyes scaled over him, Zoro felt a new ripple of irritation run across his skin. He fought not to shake it out of his body as he continued to lean against the island. The ache of his wounds grew with each passing second, and with every expanse his chest made when he took a breath reminded him he wasn’t a hundred percent. 

He thought by the grin that slid over Buggy’s face that the clown was going to comment on his wounds. Throw more salt in an already painful reminder. As it turned out, what Buggy had planned to say was much, much worse. 

“Don’t worry lover boy I’ll get you back to your little sweetie pie. Wouldn’t want you both to miss out on any unnecessary pining! Am I right?!”

His obnoxious laughter filled the galley and it reminded Zoro of nails on a chalkboard. His jaw ticked like a time bomb while he watched the clown look around the cabin at every other face. When he realized no one else was laughing he quickly stopped with a grumble. 

“So, where exactly did Arlong take them?” 

“Arlong’s found himself a little slice of heaven on the Conomi Islands. The perfect base between every adjacent island to it and Marine base stationed close by.”

“Why would anyone, let alone a pirate, want to be close to a Marine base?”

This came from the waiter. Zoro felt his eyes flick over to where Sanji stood. It was the same spot he’d been in the last night he’d seen you. The night he’d told Nami she didn’t have friends - that they weren’t her friends when that was the farthest thing from the truth. Zoro could recall the look of disappointment - the outrage - that flashed behind your eyes as if you were standing there right now beside him. 

Zoro gave a light shake of his head to bring him back to the present. His body turned to mirror the waiter as a fresh wave of pain blossomed in his chest. The wound no doubt seeping fresh blood while he positioned his arms out against the island. He needed to stay focused and not on past memories he couldn’t change. 

“It’s a great plan as long as you pay a Marine captain to turn a blind eye.”

Zoro’s voice still sounded like he’d gargled with glass and tried to speak over the cuts. Lack of use and too much sleep would do that to someone. 

“Ding, ding, ding! Lover boy buzzes in for the win.”

“Stop calling me that,” Zoro snapped. 

His eyes lifted up from the island to bore into Buggy’s moving head. What was more frustrating was his words didn’t seem to worry the clown one bit. 

“Just calling it like I see it champ. Although, I must say, I’ve heard some cold blooded denials in my time - specifically said to me - but never anything as gut wrenching as that.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No wonder Doc ran into Arlong’s big fishy arms-“

“I said shut up!”

What the hell was Buggy even talking about? How could he have possibly even known what was said between the two of you that night? The way it had torn him apart inside to tell you that you weren’t wanted - that he didn’t want you - when it was the farthest thing from the truth. He had his dreams and promises to keep, but what good was any of it if you weren’t here?

Maybe he didn’t deserve you or your forgiveness for what he’d done - what he’d said. Zoro couldn’t lie and say if he went back in time anything would change. Could he be selfish enough to tell you how he felt and ask you to wait? 

Since he’d woken up, besides the haunting news of you leaving had resided inside his thoughts, so did the memory of your body caving in on the Merry’s ramp. You looked so broken - your chest noticeably collapsing with every rapid breath you took. All he wanted to do was comfort you and he’d tried in his own way. Instead, Zoro knew he might have broken you more in a different way. 

That moment was the first time in his life he wanted to forget about honor and shame. To drop everything and run to you because the regret of not telling you the truth about how he felt about you weighed heavier than any shame ever could. His regret ate at him with every waking minute until it burned molten with rage and threatened to turn his words into venom. 

Underneath that was the fear of what if they reached you too late? 

Zoro refused to entertain those thoughts. Whether you could forgive him or not, Zoro knew one thing was certain. He would bring you back home. 

“Okay, okay, Romeo god you know the hair is attached.”

Zoro hadn’t realized he’d rushed forward towards the clown. That he clutched his head with his fingers holding him tight by the blue strands of his hair. Luffy was there. A calm hand on his wrist and speaking to him lightly to let the clown head go. He released him and quickly moved back to the other side of the island. Away from Usopp and definitely away from where that waiter had moved up beside him. 

He needed a drink. 

Zoro was vaguely aware that they were all talking. That Luffy had placed the clown back inside the black bag and was saying something to all of them. It was time to make a plan, but plans were Nami’s thing. 

“That’s your thing, right? Plans?”

Why did he give a shit about her? It was her fault that they were in this mess. The reason you no doubt went with Arlong. Sure, Zoro knew you did it to save Luffy. He always knew you were the type to sacrifice yourself for others without even blinking. It’s what made him absolutely crazy. Underneath all that though, he knew how close you were to Nami. You saw something in her the same way Luffy did. 

As much as you went to save Luffy, Zoro knew you went to save Nami too. 

He finally ripped open a crate and found bottles of his beer untouched and waiting for him. He couldn’t grab one fast enough to uncap it and bring it to his lips. He was still drinking when Luffy came to the edge of the island and looked around at all of them. 

“With Buppy’s help we’ll get the coordinates to the Conomi Islands. That’s our first step.” 

“Okay, but how do we know he isn’t just going to lead us directly into a trap?” Usopp asked. 

“Man has a point.”

Zoro took one last large gulp from the bottle at the sound of the waiter's input. 

“Whether we like it or not, he’s our only chance at finding them. We’re going to have to put a little faith that he wants his body back enough to get us there. We’ll deal with whatever else happens when we get there.”

Zoro found a spot to rest his back against the cabinets. His focus trained on Luffy. He was always so sure of himself. When plans went to shit he didn’t panic. Luffy just went with the flow believing that everything would just work itself out somehow. Zoro wishes he could share in that kind of optimism right now. 

“And what if we just get there and Nami leads us into another trap?”

He didn’t want to be the one to say it, but he wanted to be realistic. It could happen again. She could use you against them. Against him. Without missing a beat, Luffy looked over at him and softly smiled. 

“Nami won’t do that.”

“You don’t know that,” Zoro shot back bitterly.

“Just as much as you don’t know if she will,” Sanji barked back in reply. 

His eyes narrowed in on the waiter with the bottle tapping against his thigh. 

“Last I checked, you were here to make sandwiches. Not give an opinion nobody asked for.” 

A scoff exited from between Sanji’s mouth as he looked away from him. Zoro could see the tick in his jaw. Sanji seemed to be fighting not to reply with a heated reply back to him, and he was proven right when Sanji looked back at him. His shoulders squared up and with icy blue eyes as defiant as Nami’s were that night they shared their last drink. 

“Guys, we don’t have time for this,” Usopp huffed. 

“You’re right. I’ll be a better man and move on. For now.” 

Zoro was most definitely going to kick him overboard the first chance he got. 

“I’m going to take Bungy to the deck and start getting the coordinates. Usopp, if you can join me in a few.”

“You got it, Luffy.”

Luffy grabbed the bag and it quickly erupted in muffled ramblings from the clown inside. Zoro couldn’t catch much, but the mumbling sounded like a lot of bitching about Luffy saying his name wrong. Repeatedly. All three of them remained where they were with no one seeming to want to move. 

Usopp stepped out of the way as Sanji began to remove his coat. His hands rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he moved inside the kitchen as if he’d been there for years. It sent a fresh surge of irritation coursing through Zoro’s body, and he tried to quill it by finishing the beer that was left in the waiting bottles. 

He was reaching into the crate when he heard the waiter speak again. Your name rushing past his lips like the guy had the right to fucking say it. Zoro’s thumb flicked the lid off the beer and the force sent it flying across the room. 

“What did the waiter just say?”

“This waiter,” Sanji snapped back, “just asked what you possibly could’ve said to make her break like that.”

“How about you worry about whether the eggs are too runny.”

“Doc deserves to have someone love her back the way she loves them.”

He hated the way he said your name - your nickname - like you were close friends. As if he’d spent time with you while he was asleep. Maybe he had and that made Zoro’s eyes practically bleed to dark pits. 

“You’ve been here all of five minutes. You don’t know shit about what’s going on-“

“I know enough to say that if you do that again to her Mosshead, I’ll be the one there to pick up the pieces.” 

Sanji’s words sliced through his own to silence whatever Zoro was going to tell him. The man didn’t flinch as Zoro took a threatening step towards him, while he pulled out another pan and grabbed a bag of rice.

“You won’t be going anywhere near her-“

“Hey Zoro, not to but in-“

“You’re butting in.”

Usopp swallowed around his need to flee and stood his ground. Zoro had to give him props for that. He was sure he looked ready to slice them both in half at any minute.

 “But maybe this could all have been avoided if you’d just told Doc how you felt.” 

Zoro looked away from them both. His eyes scanning every inch of the galley as he tried to imagine telling the woman who joined up with Arlong he had feelings for her. That all he wanted to do that night in the galley when you stood in front of him blanketed in moonlight and stars was to kiss you. To lace his hand into that stupid corset shirt Nami let you borrow and keep you locked in a place where you couldn’t run away. Not anymore. Not ever again. What he settled on was, “I’m not good at talking. I hit things.”

“We know,” Usopp and Sanji both blurted out together, equally sounding like different pitches of annoyance. 

“You’re a waiter. You don’t know anything about me, and you sure as shit don’t know anything about Doc.”

“I know a big green-haired idiot who would allow a beautiful and talented woman get away from him when I see one.”

Yeah, Zoro was going to have to do something about this waiter. Every time he mentioned anything about you, it made him want to throw Sanji over the side of the Merry. He’d been wanting to do that since they left Baratie, but he’d been holding back the urge because he’d already knew what Luffy would do. Now though, Zoro felt like he could take whatever scolding Luffy might give him just to have the satisfaction of watching Sanji tread water. 

“I’m willing to bet I also know more about her than you do, at this point. Since, you know, talking is hard and all.”

Sanji sent a shit eating grin in his direction and Zoro hadn’t realized he’d started moving around the island until Usopp appeared next to him. A heavy, “Whoa, okay guys,” practically squeezed out of him with his arms lightly raised as if he was too scared to actually spread them out any farther to keep the two of them apart. 

“Come on, guys. We have bigger things to worry about then squabbling between each other. And if Sanji even knows anything about Doc it’s kind of my fault.”

But Zoro did know you. Maybe not in the way of your life story of your past, but you weren’t your past. Zoro knew of your present and that included the way your lips parted when you were deep in thought. The way you would begin to fidget when you weren’t sure what to do with your hands when you weren’t working on medicines or patients. He knew your favorite place to sit at night was the stern of the ship when the gusts of the wind from the push of the oceans waves sent your hair flying up around you like midnight flames. 

Sure. Zoro didn’t know much about your past, but he knew the fine details of who you were now, and that’s what mattered.

Zoro just looked at him. He wasn’t sure if Usopp expected him to verbally tell him to continue, but Zoro was quickly hitting his word limit for the day. He only responded by lifting his beer to his lips and drinking. 

“I may have brought up the time that Doc was magically dropped off by a siren from the sea.”

Zoro could feel his eyes slowly blinking. The lip of the bottle pulled on his bottom lip as he waited for Usopp to bust into his usual large grin that told him plainly he was joking. The only problem? Usopp was just staring at him waiting for his reaction. 

“I thought it was a sea witch?”

“No, no,” Usopp replied to Sanji, “Doc says sea witch because that’s what the kids called her. She likes it cause it also makes her sound scarier than she is. I say siren because it makes it more exotic and sexy.”

Zoro could tell his face was probably colored in confusion. The only remedy was another drink of beer. 

“When was this ever mentioned?”

The minute he asked, Zoro instantly regretted it. Instead of Usopp answering him, the waiter felt compelled to continue bugging the shit out of him. 

“It was brought up while we were doing all the hard work and you were getting your beauty sleep.”

“The hard work of losing half the crew and almost letting Luffy die? Yeah, you did great.” 

He knew he hit a sore spot. Usually, by now he would see the sharp intake of breath as Sanji prepared himself to respond. This time he focused on measuring out the rice. It was well and good with him. 

The silence suited him just fine. Zoro was tired of the back and forth. It wasn’t making him feel better. It wasn’t fixing the situation that they were all currently in, and it most definitely wasn’t leading him any closer to finding you. Suddenly, he felt like he needed to leave. He wasn’t sure if he was actually tired or if his lack of control of his emotions was starting to take a toll. 

He didn’t need to lose control in front of them. 

Without saying a word, Zoro turned and headed through the galley’s doors. He couldn’t move as fast as he wanted, but it didn’t stop him from making quick work across the deck to the safety of his room. He was vaguely aware that Luffy was calling to him from somewhere. He didn’t have it in him to look up for him - to see what it is his captain needed. 

He made it around the corner of the door and into the short hallway of the crew quarters. His room was close. He just needed to go a few extra feet and he would be in the loving embrace of his hammock and-

His hand stopped short on the doorknob. His forehead leaning against the wood of the door and the rush of his warm breath touching across his face. 

When did he start to hyperventilate? 

No. He didn’t do this. He didn’t react like this so why was he? Glancing over his shoulder, Zoro felt his heart pivot down to his knees. A flurry of emotion moved inside his chest as he struggled to glance past the ghost of you that was staring back at him over your shoulder. 

You thought you were sly. You probably thought he didn’t notice the way you lingered at the door just a few seconds more after you’d told him good night. Zoro was sure the look was meant to be innocent, but the feelings it stirred inside him were far from it. 

How many times had you whispered across the small space between you, “Sweet dreams.” How many times had he wanted to turn around and grab your hand? To pull you to him and trap your body between the wood of his door and his body? Too many times. 

Zoro expected to hear the soft sound of your voice telling him the usual night time routine you’d started. His body even waited before pushing inside his room just in case he’d hear you. Zoro knew it wasn't possible. 

You weren’t here. 

His body fell into his hammock with the Wado Ichimonji clutched in his hand. Zoro was struggling to get comfortable, which usually never happened. He was known for being able to get comfortable practically anywhere, and his hammock was one of his favorite and easiest places for him to usually fall into and sleep. 

Not now. He couldn’t get his thoughts to turn off. To quiet down long enough for your face not to flash behind his eyes every time he closed them. He’d placed the Wado on top of his chest. A hand still clutched to the sheathed blade as he tried to play it cool. His free hand tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling of his cabin. 

“Sweet dreams, Zoro.” 

It was three simple words but the way you’d looked at him as you spoke them…

That look wasn’t simple. It was wrapped in longing and begged for him to stop being a coward and unwrap it. 

Coward. 

That’s what he called you once. What did that make him now? Zoro could feel his heart hammering against his chest demanding he make the decision to get up and move. To cross that threshold of only a couple feet and knock on your door and push you back inside the way you’d done to him the very first time you’d meet. 

Zoro could still remember the shock of your hand shoving against his chest. The way you’d confidentially kicked the door shut behind you. What he recalled the most was his favorite thing now to see on you: the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. The realization of what you’d done, the uncertainty, flickered through your eyes like a shooting star. It was so bright, he thought you would back up; turn tail and run. You’d surprised him by staying. It’d surprised him more when he was glad you did. 

Before he realized it, his feet swung out of the hammock and walked to the door. The Wado still clutched in his hand, but the other was now wrapped around the knob of the door. 

He could do this. He would tell you that he felt the same. He would no longer steal glances at your lips and wonder what they would feel like against his. He would claim them as his own the minute you opened that door. 

But he couldn’t, could he? 

You weren’t here. The ache of something missing in his chest was real.  Zoro had missed his chance, and the reality was he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get a second one. 

Chew came in shortly after Nami left. 

His entire body reeked like a distillery that had swallowed a smaller distillery whole. You wondered if he was attached to every bottle he came in contact with or if it was just impulse that kept one in his hands at all times. On a better day you might have asked him, but currently every time your mouth moved it cracked open fresh new cuts on your busted lips. 

Your right eye was almost completely swollen shut. The only plus side to not being able to see out of both eyes was the fact it had happened gradually. You could still see a sliver of light through it; just enough to see the tip of Chew’s boots as he stopped in front of you. Your good eye opened just in time to see him crouch before you. His large lips taking in the tip of his latest bottle and taking a deep pull of the liquor it held within. 

“You think you can still make medicine looking like that?”

“I don’t know,” you croaked. “If you hit the other side of my face it might make it hard to see.”

“Ha! You’re right about that.”

You hated the way he smiled like it was a joke. The way he carelessly took another sip and the easy way he was able to get up and leave. Although, he wasn’t leaving yet. If he was here it meant Kuroobi would be there soon riding on the curt tails of Arlong. 

Chew moved around you in a tight circle. His eyes scan the bindings of the rope around your arms and wrists as if you somehow magically found a way out. There wasn’t an ounce of you that didn’t wish you could break your bindings like the magician who’d come to the Gecko Islands that year for Kaya’s birthday. Sure, you knew it was all bullshit, but you would’ve given anything in this moment for it to be real. Even just a little. 

Everything hurt. 

In the few moments you had left before Arlong arrived again, you needed to take stock of your current injuries. While your right eye was like a golf ball in size, it wasn’t broken. Nothing on you seemed broken yet but you knew it was becoming a dangerous possibility. One that Arlong seemed to know how to dance around perfectly. 

You weren’t sure what they had planned for you with your upper body tied up in ropes, but you knew it wasn’t good. People, or fishmen, didn’t do this to someone unless they planned something incredibly unpleasant. Lucky for you, you were invited to a private party with you being the lucky plus one. 

Yay you.  

Chew moved to sit on one of the steps just as the double metal doors were shoved open. Arlong made his usual grand entrance and you weren’t sure who exactly it was for. It’s not like you could actually see him coming in with whatever dramatic flourish he was hoping for. 

“I hope you were able to get a good night's rest,” he chortled. “You’re going to need all the strength you have left for what I have planned.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Patience. You’ll find out what I have in store for you. All in good time.”

You weren’t sure why seeing Kuroobi stand behind Arlong like a bodyguard bothered you as much as it did. The way the man made sure to stick his fins out farther to make himself seem bigger, more imposing than he already was. You still held a grudge for him using you as a battering ram to open the door. The bruises that scattered themselves along your arms and part of your back told the tale of that encounter very well. 

But who was Kuroobi trying to protect Arlong from? You?

“Of course, maybe you could save us the trouble if you just tell me what you are.”

Confusion colored your vision as you looked between the three of them. You were positive your brow would’ve creased if it could, unfortunately your skin could barely move past the swelling that was your face. 

“Okay. You’ve piqued my curiosity. What the hell are you talking about?” 

Every time Arlong smiled it made your stomach twist. It had to be one of the most unpleasant things you’d been forced to look at. His smiles never came from something lighthearted or joyful. Arlong’s smile came from the depths of the ocean; from where sea monsters buried jolly rogers and their men. It promised violence instead of warmth and currently it was always directed towards you. 

“No, no, see you don’t get to play coy any longer. Not after what you did.”

What did you do? What could you have done that was so bad to make them see you as a threat? Cry? Vomit on their shoes? 

You weren’t Luffy or Sanji when it came to being a fighter. You definitely weren’t scary and a damn good fighter like Zoro. You also didn’t have a knack for making special ammo for a slingshot like Usopp. The only thing you were capable of was turning the helpfulness of plants into medicine and, sometimes, making poisons out of them. Something you’d promised yourself you would never do. So, how were you supposed to take Arlong seriously when they acted like a bunch of scaredy cats? 

Maybe you could use this to your advantage.

“You know what? You’re right, Arlong.” You hoped you sounded braver than you felt. “And if you don’t want to experience what happened again, but worse, I suggest you untie me. Or, you know, spooky things will happen.”

They all looked at you as if you’d gone insane. No one made a sound for a split second before Arlong, Kuroobi, and Chew burst into laughter. 

“Eh, that was good, that was good. For not even a second did I believe a word you just said. But…we have ways of making you talk.”

The last few words growled from behind his teeth as he took a few steps towards you. As if you needed any reminding on what kind of individual you were dealing with. 

“You can beat me all you want. I won’t be able to make anything or do anything for you if I’m too dead to do it”

You prayed you sounded braver than you felt. You weren’t a particular fan of what was currently going on. Although, you weren’t sure anyone would claim torture was a good bonding exercise with your new captain. 

Gods, you really missed Luffy. 

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. Yet.”

“Well, that is extremely less comforting than I’d hoped,” you mumbled. 

Arlong began to walk towards you but in the presence of your voice he stopped. You forgot how much he loved just hearing himself talk and how the sound of anything else was an act of defiance. 

“I won’t kill you until you can answer one simple question for me.” Arlong paused for dramatic effect. His words sink into the corners of your mind to dig up a fresh wave of curiosity. He waited long enough to know he had you before he finished with a smile, “What are you, girl.”

“Wait. What?”

You could feel your good eye blink rapidly along with every thought that bombarded you in trying to make sense of what he just said. You looked down at your body to make sure that you were still a person. That you had two arms, currently wrapped behind your back, and was still wearing Nami’s spaghetti strap shirt she’d given you. So, it begged the question: what the fuck was Arlong talking about?

“Do you think I’m stupid because I’m a fishmen? That I wouldn’t be able to see a snake trying to work its way onto my property?”

“I’m literally just a human.”

“Just a human can't do the things you did in here yesterday.”

Again, you looked around the room and wondered if at any time someone was going to pop in and say this was a joke. A part of you hoped that was exactly what would happen because the more you stared at Arlong the more you realized the current danger you were in. He must have seen the thought drive itself home because that sickly smile crept back on his face. 

“I. Am. Just. A. Human.”

You tried to drive every word home with a metaphorical hammer. Each one ladden with irritation but underneath that was the blinding dread that something very bad was about to happen. 

Your suspicions were rewarded as Arlong closed the last remaining space between you. His large webbed hand reached out to painfully wrap around your face and yank your head upwards to look at him. You wanted to appear defiant. To pretend that with each passing second that he tightened his hands on your face it didn’t make you want to scream as your jaw felt ready to fracture. 

All your bravery dissipated as his hand closed tight enough around your jaw it sent the inside flesh of your cheeks to slide across your teeth. Instantly, a soft cry of pain filtered through the open gap of your mouth and Arlong smiled. 

“Go ahead and keep lying. The water’s edge will be the only thing filling your lungs for a while. See if the ocean wishes to reclaim you.” 

If Arlong hoped his words would elicit some sort of confession out of panic to save yourself he was wrong. The only thing it did was spark a fresh wave of fear to wash over you. It was a palpable thing. You could feel it worming its way ínside your chest, threatening to make you sick. You didn’t care if the sadistic smile that grew on his face came from that sickness. He enjoyed watching the currant of emotions that rushed through you. Everyone one of them stemming from the terror of being placed anywhere near water. 

You could still recall seven-year-old you willingly following the older kids to the beach. The way a fresh wave of hope brewed in your heart that maybe - just maybe - they were finally going to play with you. 

Coben was the one that started it. First, it was just a joke. Something sharp and cruel that reminded all the other kids in the group you weren’t like the rest. You didn’t belong. 

“I hear the ocean at nights been crying. Crying because one of her children is missing. If you listen now you can hear her saying a name.”

He created a seashell with his hands and began to call your name inside the echoing walls of his palms. You could still remember the way the hope shattered and the panic quickly filled the pieces. The warning of adrenaline coming all too late that Coben and the other kids never intended to let you play any games with them. 

You were the game. 

In seconds they were on you. A centipede of hands grasping at your arms and legs to bring your struggling body to the water. They’d dropped you fast a few feet into the waves - allowing you a millisecond to lift up from the rush of a wave to gasp for air - just before Coben’s hands at your throat shoved you back down. 

There were moments still when the feeling of water rushing into your lungs startled you awake at night. Your hands frantically moving around you to make sure you were safe in bed. That the sheering burn of pain in your chest was a terrible memory. 

You’d almost died that day. You should’ve died if it wasn’t for Usopp. 

You didn’t hear him or see him run up screaming. You just knew one minute Coben’s preteen hands were wrapped around your throat, and the next, you were up ended with Coben as Usopp slammed into him. 

There was no one else to help him. If the group turned on him he would meet the same fate as you, but he didn’t care. 

You were too weak to pull yourself out from the non stop crashing of wave after wave of fresh water. Your mouth vomiting up fresh salt water and bile while your lungs burned at the feeling of air. 

“Get out of here! Before I tell!” 

It wasn’t hard to see Usopp was scared. It was apparent in the saucer size stare of his eyes as they shifted back and forth between everyone. His homemade slingshot pulled back at the ready and loaded with another sharp rock. You’d thought Usopp had shoved Coben off you, but it wasn’t until he’d risen from where he’d collapsed at the ocean’s edge that the blood from an open wound was traveling down the side of his face. 

A fear like ice gripped your heart for those few seconds as Coben seemed to calculate his next move. If they tried to attack Usopp, you would do whatever it took to make sure he made it home to his mom. You didn’t have to worry about any further confrontation. 

“Come on boys. Let’s leave the freaks to themselves.”

Usopp waited until he was sure that they’d all left before he’d dropped his arms. His hands quickly put away his slingshot while he rushed to your side. It was Usopp who saved you. Who pulled you out of the water and held you as you’d sobbed. 

Unlike all of his other memories Usopp turned into stories of his grand adventures and heroics, this was the one story he never retold. 

What Arlong must have thought was that you were afraid it would make you talk or you would magically become something you weren’t. He didn’t know that what you feared more was your lungs being buried alive under fresh saltwater. He didn’t know what you’d feared most was dying all over again. 

“You are fucking crazy.”

Your words came out rushed and on the edge of a sob. You hated yourself for the sheer terror you let out, but it couldn’t be helped. All the resolve you’d built up the past few hours dissolved so easily at the mention of water. Your arms thrashed in their bindings as you moved to stand, but where would you go? You’d forgotten your ankle was still chained in place. 

The minute you moved Arlong was on you. His large hands grabbing at your shoulders and yanking you to stand on your feet. You weren’t sure if it was Kuroobi or Chew who released the shackle from your ankle but it didn’t matter. You couldn’t see past Arlong and his eyes that gleamed with a sadistic glee at whatever he had in store. 

“I’m not crazy. I’m a fishman with a vision, which you seem to lack. Allow me to help you to see your potential.” 

Of course. 

Of course, Arlong would want to use you for whatever it is you could do. Whether it was medicine or not. It didn’t matter what you said to him now. You could see looking into his eyes that he believed whatever he thought he’d seen and no amount of pleading from you would change your fate. 

“Come, little fish. It’s time for your baptism.” 

His sharp laugh cut through the silence of the room. You fruitlessly tried to make another run for it and found your feet being lifted off the ground and a sharp scream of pain sparked inside the room. Kuroobi held the rope that had been fastened between your wrist to use it to lift you up at an ungodly angle. One that forced your arms to go backwards up above your head. If Kuroobi wanted to, he could easily dislocate both shoulders from how they strained at whatever angle he tried to make them go. 

Arlong took the lead. He always did and like good little henchmen, Kuroobi and Chew quickly moved to follow. Kuroobi made sure that while he held you suspended slightly above the ground it was enough to allow your bare feet to drag across the floor. They’d taken your shoes the second time they’d come in. You’d expected them to take the shirt Nami gave you; maybe all of your clothes.

But Arlong said he was merificul and let you keep at least that. 

So, as you all made your way down the stairs and outside into Arlong Park the skin of your toes and top of your foot caught every loose rock and broken glass that laid scattered around from their partying. With each piece of glass that dragged across your foot your teeth grabbed at your bottom lip. All in a weak attempt to keep yourself from crying.

You were vaguely aware of the laughter from his men. They all seemed to find equal joy in your torture. In seeing how their captain brought the silly little humans to their knees and treated them like trash. It was something you could understand. You’d come to help them. To heal them and keep them from dying a slow and agonizing death. 

And yet…they enjoyed seeing your agony. Some of them even spit on the ground Kuroobi dragged you on. You could feel the growing need to cry growing in your chest. You’d done so good by not shedding a single tear for them, and suddenly being dragged around like useless cargo was what threatened to make you break. 

You wanted to go home. 

You wanted to see your Naan again. The desire to have her wrap you in her arms and slightly rock you as her fingers swept through your hair. The way she tucked your head under her chin and soothed you with a quiet humming tune of the nursery rhyme she sang to you since she found you. Naan would tell you to let it out. 

“There isn’t any sense in keeping it all bottled in to let it fester.”

But she also was scared of something. Whenever you got too angry - too sad - she would soothe you down the same way, but her words would change. It was never about letting it out but always about burying it deep down and trying to forget it. 

But how can you forget this, Naan? How could you forgive this?

The desperation that had begun to brew inside you was threatening to spill over. You were tired of being strong when your outcome was so uncertain. When your outcome seemed to only grow bleaker by the minute with no promise of sunshine in sight. 

Kuroobi gave a jolt that sent a fresh wave of pain through your spine and this time a small cry from that pain escaped your lips. It was so sudden you didn’t know a tear had broken free until you felt it skidding silently down your cheek. A name you were sure was Naan’s pressed to the back of your teeth and when you exhaled it released. 

“Zoro.”

His name came out in a shaky breath. A soft sob follows right behind it. It should’ve surprised you that it was his name your heart called for, but it didn’t. As much as you wanted to save yourself, a big part of you wanted him to come and save you too. Because you knew Zoro’s type of saving burned hotter than the flames of hell and consumed everything in its path leaving nothing left. 

“Where are you going with her?”

You knew that voice. You couldn’t see her. Not with your bad eye facing the direction she was coming from, but you knew it was Nami before she finally sprang into view. 

“Nami. Your friend and I are just going down to the water for a little swim.”

You felt sick. 

The panic crashed against your ribs and you didn’t know how to silence it. You didn’t know how to keep from swinging your arms in Kuroobi’s grip to try and see her. Even if it meant another blast of pain was sent to every nerve in your body. 

“She’s no use to us if she’s dead.”

Nami appeared stoic; her face empty and unmoving like her words. Or that’s what she wanted them to believe. For you to believe, but you caught the worry she tried to hide in the ice blue of her eyes. 

“I’m not going to kill her. She has information she seems keen on not sharing. I’m only going to see if she feels like talking once we get down to the ocean.”

Nami’s eyes ticked briefly in your direction. You wanted to ask her how you looked and if it was as bad as you thought. You were pretty positive you weren’t going to be winning any beauty pageants anytime soon. 

Normally, you would’ve tried to hold her gaze in a feigned act of defiance. You needed them to think she made you hate her and that you were a fool for choosing to come with her. You couldn’t hate Nami even if you tried. So, instead you turned your eyes away and looked down at the floor. It allowed her to stay in character too and pretend you were nothing more than a nuisance. 

“Make it quick,” she spit out. “A couple of the guys have been waiting for her so-called, “cure,” and are growing restless.”

At the mention of his dying crew mates, the smile of satisfaction Arlong seemed to wear like a badge frayed at the edges. The sadistic gleam in his obsidian eyes hardened to something that was impossibly more frightening. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she keeps her hands and that squishy little brain of hers.” Arlong gave Nami one last look before he signaled for Kuroobi to follow him. “Let’s make this quick.”

Kuroobi moved insync with each step Arlong took. A puppet guided by an individual string that compelled him forward with your body strung up like a yule tide duck. You couldn’t see Nami take a step forward, but you felt it. The anxiety on her face made her eyes frantically searching - thinking - of what she could do to save you. 

There was no saving you, however, and you knew this. Softly, you shook your head. Just a small shake. It was so small if you blinked you would miss it, but you knew Nami would notice. Just like she noticed almost everything else. It was all the strength you had in you to let her know to let you go.

Don’t make more of a fuss. 

That’s what you hoped your one good eye was able to plead with her. If she did, Arlong would begin to suspect she cared more about you than she’d originally let on. You couldn’t allow him another chance to wound her further than he already had. 

It was amazing how fast they moved. One minute, you were inside the Arlong Park compound and the next Kuroobi was dragging your feet through the scolding hot dirt roads. You wished this walk was as pleasant as the first. Yeah, the circumstances were the same, kind of. You were a hostage but at least, at the time, you were a hostage who got to enjoy the small things. Like the views. 

The second time around leaving the compound wasn’t how you thought it would go. Sure, the likelihood of it turning out like a novella where a knight in shining armor - or a moody green-haired swordsman - magically showed up to save the day was slime to none. It was a nice thought. As nice as thinking Arlong was magically going to grow a conscience and let you and Nami skip away out the front door. 

While your current predicament wasn’t what you wanted, you still at least got to take in all the striking orange of the tangerines that were scattered for miles. It was when the grove finally came to a stop and the trees turned wild and large that you knew you were close. 

You tried to prepare yourself and to let yourself believe maybe there was a way you could magically get out of this. But you knew your fate was sealed the minute the crash of blue broke over the treelines. All the resolve of bravery you tried to build up in the wonderland in your head came crashing back into reality. 

Suddenly, you were counting each sinking step of Kuroobi’s feet as they moved across the sand. The way the waves grew closer and the seagulls called out your impending doom. It wasn’t until you were mere feet from the wet sand that a sharp cry of, “No!” burst free from between your lips. Not caring about the eruption of pain that came when you tried to wiggle yourself free from Kuroobi’s strong grip. 

“There is no point in trying to get away. You sealed your fate the minute you decided to lie.”

“I haven’t lied to you, you fucking lunatic!”

You knew it wasn’t smart to answer him that way. It probably wouldn’t be smart to do it in any normal circumstance either, but you were past trying to stay pleasant. You had a strong feeling it wouldn’t matter if you kissed his ass and promised to pluck every rainbow out of the sky for him, you would still be where you are now. 

On your knees in wet sand inches away from the entrance to the ocean. 

“I know what I saw!” Arlong’s voice roared as he stalked over to you. A hand grabbing at your hair and using it to anchor you up to look at him. “You can call me crazy all you want but you human’s have always lied to our faces. You made empty promises that rang as hollow as the bullets you placed in our backs.”

“I get it,” you seethed through your teeth. “They were mean to you. Boo hoo! It doesn’t mean that all humans are like that.”

“You are all the same! Every last one of you is full of lies and you!? You are harboring something, girl, and I will find out what it is. Even if it means I have to bleed it out of you.”

“You believe what you want, but I know who I am.”

“Is that so?” 

You hated it when Arlong smiled like this. Like he knew a secret you didn’t and the information was only meant to benefit him and no one else. 

“If you believed that, there wouldn’t be so much fear in your eyes. Allow me to drown out all those unnecessary thoughts for you.”

Arlong moved quickly to grab you by your arms and drag you towards the waters edge. Your feet struggled to stand up to move with him; to bury themselves deep into the sand and attempt to put up some sort of fight. 

It was a losing battle and no matter how much you screamed and tried to turn your body out of his hold, you felt the first shock of cold against your skin. You knew once Arlong was in the water it would only be a matter of seconds for him to take you out. Fishmen were known for being faster than sound once they entered the water. You had no chance of fighting back as Arlong’s moved inside the water. His hand on your arm keeping your head below the water and secured in place so the waves couldn’t take you. 

The water filtered through your nose in seconds. The burning of saltwater in the back of your throat teleported you back to being that same terrified little girl. 

All I wanted was to play…

That time you had your hands and your nails to scratch and claw up at Coben’s face. You weren’t afforded that same luxury this time. You were quickly reminded that your arms and hands were hog tied behind your back. Your shoulders shaking violently to try and break free as your mouth finally opened, your lungs screaming for air, only to be greeted instantly by the suffocating rush of water. 

Arlong found a perfect spot that left you feet away from the edge of the shore. You knew he found the perfect spot because that was when his hand released your arm and was replaced by his large foot. He pushed you down and down until your back touched sand and even further until you could feel the sand digging into the still fresh wound of the brand on your back. 

The flare of pain caused you to scream. Your eyes watching as the last bit of air you had bubbled up to the surface. The only thing left for you to inhale was the saltwater of the ocean, and Mother Ocean was merciless in the way she wrapped her fingers inside their tissue and squeezed. 

You knew it was pointless to try and wiggle yourself loose. It just wasn’t going to happen with his foot keeping you trapped to the ocean floor. Just as fast as Arlong had placed you under he suddenly pulled you back up. When your face broke the surface you tried to take in a greedy breath, but instead your lungs vomited up the water it had consumed. 

“Do you feel ready to spill your guts, girl? Or should I let you marinate longer?”

You tried to talk around your coughing, but your throat was full of burning from your lungs.

“Ah, marinating it is then.”

A strangled shout was all you were able to get out before Arlong launched you back under. This time, however, Arlong leaned over to let his upper body dip under the water's surface. His smiling face following you down to the grave he wished to bury you in just to watch your body thrash uselessly under his foot. His smile growing wider with each hiccup your body involuntarily took in a reflex to get air. 

It felt like the water filled your lungs faster this time and that same weightless feeling you’d felt with Coben’s hands around your throat returned. This time, however, you knew there wouldn’t be a Usopp to come and save you. No one was going to save you and the weight of loneliness that thought had was enough to make you feel a different kind of pain. 

The edges of your vision were beginning to grow black and it was a welcome sight. Maybe death wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it meant this nightmare was over. Maybe in death you could find the peace you’d been denied by the living. A weightlessness began to take over your body and you found your willingness to follow the darkness terrifying, but you were tired. You couldn’t take this anymore. You couldn’t- 

Suddenly, Arlong launched you back out of the water. His large hand held you steady as your throat coughed up every last inch of water.

“Don’t go dying on me now!” He chortled. “We were just getting started.”

You were too weak to tell him where he could shove it. Your eyes were barely able to focus over the spots that filtered over your vision. Maybe that would explain why you thought the little girl hiding among the trees was a hallucination. Hallucination or not, you wanted to tell her to run. This scene was not one meant to be seen by a child, but before you could call out to her Arlong shoved you back under and everything started all over again.

You’d thrown up sometime ago in the sand. 

The only comforting part about it was that it was mostly water. The second comforting thing? Arlong, Kuroobi, and Chew seemed to have left you here. 

Oh, you were sure they would be back. There wasn’t anyway that Arlong was just going to let you go. You were part of his crew, after all. For now, you would enjoy what little moment of reprieve you got as you tried to collect yourself here on this beach. 

The beach where you died more than a handful of times. 

Every time you felt yourself begin to fade - when the darkness was more than happy to wrap its arms around you - was always when Arlong pulled you back. A part of you wondered if he knew. A shark smelling blood in the water and this blood was that of your wish for him just to let death take you. 

Dying had to be easier than this, but you couldn’t die. Not when you were waiting to see him again.

It wasn’t until they’d placed a rock on your chest to weigh you down that you felt something change. Something  dark was clawing its way feverishly to the surface. All the gut wrenching fear that Arlong built with each fresh surge of drowning twisted like a gnarled root to take shape into something sinister. The shape it created felt ravenous - eager to show him his own brand of fear with gnashing teeth and twisted bones. 

You were too far gone in your own despair for you to remember all of Naan’s warnings. The reminders that the darkness was never a giver, but a taker. As you watched a smokey trundle of blood weave its way from your body you knew you no longer cared. You had no room for it when your head felt ready to burst from pressure, your lungs like a fish tank, and sternum cracking with each breath from the weight of the stone. 

That’s when the sickeningly sweet whispers started again and, this time, you listened. The words they spoke grew like venom on your tongue. The whispers told you if you spoke their words out loud, Arlong’s smile would disappear. You could make him know what it felt like to be afraid. 

Arlong must have noticed something in you had changed because all the playful glee he’d shown while he watched your misery evaporated. For a split second, uncertainty flashed across his eyes and it was all you needed to know if you chased it, you could make him give in to fear. 

You never got a chance to see what would happen. If you could make him turn inside out. Just like before, they’d silenced you before you could complete whatever you’d started. Deep down, you were glad. Even though for a brief moment you no longer felt any pain - felt powerful - that wickedness had left a stain on your soul that you couldn’t get clean.

You refused to cry as you tried to get comfortable. You weren’t sure how that was supposed to even be possible, but you had to try. Realistically, you didn’t have the strength to get up and try and make a run for it. Even if you did, what would that mean for Nami? Where would you even go?

No. 

As hopeless as you felt - as everything felt - you weren’t going to run. 

You were trying to shuffle to your other side but gave up when you tipped over to your back. Your throat was raw like the muscle and chords you’d used had been removed, and your lungs felt worse. Truthfully, your whole body felt like shit, and it felt like too much work to try and do anything else than lie there like a sack of potatoes. 

You were about to look back up to the sky when you saw her. 

A dart of lilac hair attached to the same little girl you’d spotted earlier. The one you wished you could yell at to disappear. Tell her that this was no place for a child. You thought you’d imagined her, but as she made her way out from behind the safety of the trees and across the beach, you realized she was very much real. 

She’d only looked over her shoulders - left and right - twice. Both of those times told her that it was safe to make a journey over to you and you wanted to yell at her. To tell her she was being foolish and at any minute Arlong could return. It was horror novel worthy the way she recklessly trekked across the beach to an absolute stranger. No care for the possible danger that could spring up at any minute. The thought of what he would do if he did find her constricted your heart in a new form of terror. It was enough to get you to croak out a few words - pain be damned. 

“G-go…go ba-ck.”

The girl stopped for a brief moment and it was enough to give you hope that she was going to listen. You should’ve known better. When did any kid in the history of ever listen? Your words halted her movement for all of a second before she started forward again. This time her small legs picking up speed as she ran towards you. Once she reached your side she quickly dropped down to her knees. 

A tiny tote was over her shoulder and you watched as she opened it to reach inside and produce a tangerine. She held it up just to show you it was, indeed, a tangerine and went to peeling it open.

“I couldn’t find any clean water.” Gods, her voice sounded so innocent. So small. “But I remembered tangerines are juicy, and my daddy said our island has the juiciest tangerines. Maybe they have the power to make you feel better.”

You watched her work the peel off and stash the remains of it back inside the tote. The evidence of her kindness never reaching the sandy beach to give away that she was ever there in the first place. It was smart. You were torn out of your thoughts when he tiny hand pressed a piece of tangerine against your lips. 

“You should hurry and eat it before they come back. My daddy tells me the tangerines from our grove are special. They can make you strong enough to keep fighting.”

“Is there anything your daddy doesn’t claim these tangerines can do?” 

You mumbled before gently pulling the slice of tangerine into your mouth. Gods, this tasted like heaven. It was a fight to keep from letting out a moan of gratitude as the sweet citrus flavor washed over your tongue. 

All of that was replaced when you noticed your words caused a sudden shift in her demeanor. A wave of sadness consumed her. Her eyes darted down to the tangerine in her hand as she focused on peeling another slice free from its core.

“No. But…I know they don’t heal sick people. If they did, daddy wouldn’t be sick anymore.”

You couldn’t stop staring at her. This little girl with hair as vibrant as a wisteria and startling eyes that were bluer than the ocean. Those same eyes that conveyed her kindness held a deep sadness. One you knew all too well when a child watched someone they love slowly begin to die. 

She peeled another piece off and brought it back to your mouth, patiently waiting for you to open up just enough so she could tip the tangerine inside. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you spoke after you struggled to swallow the second tangerine. “It isn’t safe for you.”

“I know but….” She stopped mid sentence to take a cautionary look around before she continued. “I heard that fishman say you were a doctor.”

Ah, now you understood why she was willing to brave the wrath of Arlong just to come speak to you. She was willing to risk it all to make sure her father was going to be okay. 

You felt a small smile lift the good side of your face as you replied, “I am indeed a doctor.”

“Do you think you could come and look at my daddy? I can try and find some money to pay you. Please.”

“I would love to come by and see if I could help your dad, sweetie, but I’m currently…tied up.”

The brief flash of excitement that lit up her eyes died out in a smoke of disappointment. The next piece of tangerine she’d peeled sat inside her palm while she seemed to struggle with that new information. 

“Oh.”

Why did you feel like you’d crushed what was left of her hopes and dreams? She wouldn't look up at you now. Her fingers picking at the veins on the tangerine and when she sniffled you felt like you died. 

No, no do not cry! 

Your mind raced in what you could do to help make her feel better. What could you do with your arms tied behind you back and looking like…well, whatever Arlong made you look like. The only thing you could think of was something impossible, but if you could find a way to do it, you would help her father. 

“How about this? Whenever I get out of here I’ll come and find you-“

“In Coco Village?!”

The excited determination was back and it burned hotter than ever. Her small hand shoved the piece inside your mouth and you did your best to try and chew it before you choked. That was the last thing you needed. Death by tangerine. 

“Sure. If that’s where you and your dad are.”

“Oh my gosh mama is going to be so excited! And happy! Daddy’s been sick for a long time.”

She placed another piece inside your mouth and you quickly chewed it up. It was easy to ignore the sting the citrus caused your throat as you worried what would become of her if she stayed. After you finished the third bite, you offered up your name in greeting and were easily rewarded with hers in return. 

“Nazifa.”

You smiled at her softly and prayed it didn’t look scary. You weren’t exactly sure how you looked, but you were willing to bet after your latest adventure with Arlong you looked worse than before. If that was at all possible.

“Nazifa. That is a pretty name. What are you doing all the way out here?”

It appeared agreeing to come see her father significantly lifted the girl’s spirit. She was mimicking a hoping motion with her shoulders as she peeled another piece free and, without thinking, popped it into her own mouth. You couldn’t keep the smile from growing on your face. 

“I was looking for something to help my daddy. He’s been sick a long time.” 

“What were you looking for exactly?”

“Plants, silly!”

You wondered if now was the time to try and teach her the danger of ingesting just any plants but thought against it. Now really wasn’t the time to give a botany lesson lying on a beach looking like a crazy lady. 

“Of course.”

“But then I heard the bad man say you were a doctor and I thought maybe you could help my daddy.”

Nazifa leaned forward and placed another tangerine piece at your lips. You opened your mouth and eagerly ate what was offered. When was the last time you’d eaten? You’d been here with Nami for three days and you were sure you’d been offered nothing. Not that you could eat or drink in your current…predicament. 

“I promise I will help your daddy if I can, Nazifa.”

All the earlier happiness Nazifa showed seemed to erase in a second. The endless expanse of her blue eyes were solely focused on you; searching your face to see if there were any signs of dishonesty.

“You promise?”

Looking at her now you knew this was beyond important to her. This dealt with someone she loved beyond all reason. What little girl would willingly risk being caught to come talk to a hostage just because they heard the word doctor? Kids like Nazifa would. When all hope seemed lost as they watched the person they loved most slowly die in front of them. 

Without giving it much thought you felt yourself replying, “I promise, promise.” 

You meant it. 

This was one of the reasons you’d become a doctor. All those hours training under Naan - tirelessly watching the way she mended wounds and broken spirits. You weren’t sure exactly what her father had, no way to know until you saw him, but that was your goal. In the presence of this little girl, she reminded you why you needed to keep fighting.

You were going to get out of here. You were going to go to Coco Village and see Nazifa’s father and do what you could to heal him, because that’s who you were, and you would be damned if you ever let Arlong take that away from you. 

The sound of his name startled him awake.

Zoro knew it wasn’t just any voice he’d heard. No one else’s voice could make him rise from his hammock faster than you. The imaginary sound of you calling his name, laced with a frightful plea, worked its way inside his body like a haunting. There wasn’t any possible way that he could’ve heard you. There were still miles of sea laid out before him before they ever reached you and Nami. 

So, why did it feel as if a sickness was brewing in his gut? 

He swung his legs out from the hammock and scrubbed a harsh hand over his face. Zoro had gone to his room in the hopes of finding some sanctuary in the form of rest. No matter how many times he closed his eyes, his head was swamped with visions of you. A thousand scenarios played out of what could possibly be happening while you weren’t beside him. Zoro wanted to believe that every scenario didn’t play out in cruel ways that left him ready to split men in two; to remind him why he was given the nickname The Demon. 

But that one word - his name - felt too real. 

Come and find me, Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro.

Zoro knew he would do just that. It wasn’t a matter of whether he wanted to anymore, but of need. He wasn’t sure what he would do the minute he saw you. If he would just grab you, throw you over his shoulder, and carry your ass back to the Merry. His body practically begged to feel your fists beating against the muscles of his back. Your legs would kick aimlessly in hopes he would set you down with you slinging fun comments like asking if he was a caveman. 

It was funny. It used to irritate him when you would call him an asshole, but now? Now he would give anything to hear you say it again. For him to have the chance to make the playfulness in your tune catch and turn into something breathy. 

Yeah. He wasn’t going to be getting any rest anytime soon.

With a sigh of defeat, he reached back into the hammock and pulled the Wado free from where it had been placed next to him. Zoro moved swiftly to his feet and slid the sheath home inside his belt, which felt painfully empty. It was something he was going to have to remedy and fast. That could wait until after he did as he was told and saved you from your own stupidity. 

He made his way out of his room and out towards the bridge of the Merry. Zoro was looking for Luffy and found himself walking up to the stern where an all too familiar annoying voice made his presence known. 

“What was that? Why don’t you say it to my face? Hey! Morning, Champ.”

Not only did Nami and you leave, but you were both replaced by Zoro’s worst fucking nightmares. A waiter and a clown. 

Zoro didn’t mean to round the corner so fast. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Buggy anymore than Usopp seemed to enjoy his directional company. But here he was: being called out by the clown and Zoro was never one to back down from a fight. 

“I know Luffy made a deal with you to find Arlong, clown, but if this is another one of your tricks-”

“What are you going to do? Bleed on me? Tell me that I don’t mean anything to you, either, to hurt my sensitive feelings? Hey, speaking of not having any feelings, Zoro, buddy, since you don’t seem to want Doc, can I have a go at her? Seems only fair- OW!”

He hadn’t realized he’d lurched forward until his fingers dug into the bandana to the root of the hair below. Zoro made sure all the practiced years of grip training honed in on the clowns skull - a millisecond of a thought away from crushing it in his hand. Buggy must have noticed the threat from the predicament that he found himself in. Sure, Zoro could crush Buggy’s head in but he could also simply toss his ass out over the boat. One problem gone with it just leaving the waiter to deal with after. 

Yeah, Zoro kinda liked those odds.

He made his way back down the steps to the stern of the ship. The pleading of Buggy made his ears ring in annoyance.

“Whoa! Whoa! Wait. Whoa! What? Because I said bleed on me? You can bleed on me if you want. I mean, a deal’s a deal, all right? You want your girl back and the map. I want my body.”

Zoro flung Buggy’s head over the side of the ship and a burst of pleasure rushed through him as he watched his neck frantically begin to shake. He was well aware it was a petty move, but right now, petty felt fucking good. 

“How do we know you’re not leading us to a trap?”

“Zoro, buddy! Honor amongst pirates. Right? Come on. How about I sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time.”

The minute Zoro heard Buggy take a sharp inhale to start doing exactly that he backed away from the railing. He wasn’t in any mood to carry on this particular part of the conversation. 

“🎶Oh, there once was a girl with tangerine hair. Stole my map and left me stranded somewhere.” Zoro made quick work of the steps and to his pleasant surprise watched Usopp move towards the barrel he’d removed him from seconds before. “Truly a crafty and crooked young lass but you can’t deny she had a spectacular–🎶” Usopp pulled the lid off the barrel and Zoro didn’t hesitate to immediately drop Buggy inside. “OW! Right on my nose!”

So far this was the most enjoyable thing to his morning. As fast as Usopp pulled open the lid, with the same speed he closed it completely silencing the clown inside. The silence was instant and it was phenomenal. However, a part of him felt like he had a missed opportunity of true euphoria launching him out to sea. 

“Thank god for you, man,” Usopp huffed out with relief. “If I had to listen to him for another hour or so I was going to lose it.”

Zoro didn’t know how to reply. He just stood there and gave a small nod in welcome as his hands rested on the top of the Wado’s hilt. It wasn’t lost on him that Usopp mentioned it was only another hour. Was it really another hour before he heard someone calling out, “Land hoe!” Bringing him one step closer to finding you. 

He was going to have to inform you this was the worst game of hide and seek he’d ever played. Zoro watched Usopp head back to the helm of the ship. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel as he looked out over the ocean. His eyes were no doubt scanning for the one thing Zoro himself was equally impatiently waiting for. 

Zoro knew he was giving off awkward. He was still just standing there. Not saying a word. He was trying to think of how to ask his question without sounding desperate, but he knew once the question left his lips Usopp would automatically know why he was asking anyway. 

“So, you think we only have an hour left? Two at the most?”

Usopp glanced away from scanning the horizon to regard him before looking away. 

“You mean before we see the Conomi Islands or before we get to her?”

This time Usopp’s eyes landed on him and they didn’t tear themselves away. Not yet. Zoro was beginning to realize that he wasn’t the only person on this ship with a deeply rooted need to make sure you were safe. The years of embedded friendship were exposed all over Usopp’s face. Years that Zoro himself knew he could never replace, but only hoped to make memories of his own that were as fierce as the protective glean that shot through Usopp’s eyes. 

It was Zoro who broke first for once. His eyes moved back to the safety of the expansive blue ocean in front of them. 

“Both.”

His answer felt like a betrayal. He knew they needed to spot the island cresting over the horizon first. That had to be first because it’s not like he could magically teleport himself to you, but he couldn’t stop hating the weight of waiting. 

A heavy sigh tore him out of his thoughts and back over to Usopp. He wasn’t looking back at him anymore. Usopp’s eyes were now looking out where Zoro had run for shelter. Except, it seemed Usopp did it for a completely different reason. 

“Shit.” Whatever he was about to do, Zoro could feel the terror coming off him. “Look, Zoro-”

Those two words told him this was not a conversation he was hoping to be a part of. 

“I’m not sure exactly what it is that is going on with you and Doc but-”

“But?”

Usopp’s head shot over to him and he looked ready to shit himself. It took what little self-control Zoro had not to smirk at the obvious terror his one-word question caused him. It took Usopp a couple of tries to swallow past the lump that’d grown in his throat before he continued.

“I know she likes you and I seen what liking you did to her after you went and fought Mihawk. I don’t want to ever see her like that again, Zoro. Doc is family to me. You understand that? Whatever you intend to do when you see her -  make sure you make it right.”

Make it right. 

That was the one thing Zoro was struggling to figure out how to do exactly. Sure, he had a letter you’d left with strict instructions on how to do just that, but it would be a cold day in hell before he groveled. Roronoa Zoro didn’t grovel. 

He didn’t know how to respond to Usopp and, because of that, instead of trying he turned and headed towards the front of the Merry. If Luffy hadn’t been back here with Usopp, that meant he had to be either in the kitchen or the front. Maybe he’d find him riding on the ram’s head, which was his favorite place on the ship. Zoro could easily check the galley first, but if he could have fewer run-ins with the waiter the better.

The world must have been against him today. 

He could hear Luffy saying he wanted to make sure Nami was okay and a small part of Zoro did too. He hated to admit it, but Nami had become a friend to him in ways he hadn’t expected. Sure, Zoro knew he could chop it up to the times they’d been in danger because there was nothing like building a bond with someone when your backs were pressed together fighting against a common enemy.

And while he did worry about her he was more interested in answers than a sob story. He may have been wrong back at the Baratie when they’d been caught in a guessing game of, “Guess my trauma,” but Zoro hadn’t been wrong about Nami carrying a load large enough to crush her spirit. It was something that must have happened gradually. So gradual, that by the time she realized the baggage she’d placed on her shoulders it only dampened who she truly was. 

Zoro wanted to believe that when he rounded the corner he would find Luffy just talking to himself. It was a dumb hope, but the last person Zoro wanted to see when he rounded the corner was to be greeted with the most unwelcome sight of the waiter giving Luffy first mate advice. 

“A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong. Nami clearly needs to be rescued.”

Of course the waiter would say some shit like that. He’d practically swooned over her the minute he’d locked eyes with Nami at Baratie.

“Her tattoo says different.”

Zoro hoped those four words conveyed what he thought of him: an idiot. 

“Yeah, well, tattoos don’t tell the whole story. And like any woman, she’s a mystery to be unraveled.”

The tone of Sanji’s response told Zoro plainly what Sanji thought of him. An idiot. 

“Nami made her choice.”

“You don’t know why.”

“The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don’t know Nami.” 

“Sounds like you don’t know her either, Mosshead.”

“I’m sure Nami has her reasons.”

Zoro sniffed hard to keep from hurling his next words at Sanji. His eyes turned towards the open water because if he had to see the look on Sanji’s face one more time he couldn’t trust what he was going to say or do. The guy had been here all of a few days and suddenly he was a Nami expert. 

“And I know Doc has her reasons for choosing to do what she did. I just need to hear from them myself.”

You’d made your choice to save Luffy. Maybe in your mind you thought you were saving Nami too, but Zoro knew better than most that sometimes some people couldn’t be saved. 

“Land hoe!”

All it took was those two words to send Zoro’s adrenaline into overdrive. Land. He turned from the side of the ship to face forward and, sure enough, on the edge of the horizon was the first sight of land. 

The Conomi Islands. 

He was just a few miles away from being closer to you, and Zoro promised himself that this time he wasn’t going to let you go. 

After Nazifa left and Arlong and his merry gang returned, you’d ended up staying a little while longer on that beach than you originally wanted. Just a while longer with your belly filling up with sea water until your nose began to bleed and the sun disappeared behind the wall of mountains. 

It wasn’t a surprise you’d been too exhausted to walk anywhere. That’s how you ended with your dead weight slung over Kuroobi’s shoulder and brought back to Arlong Park. He hadn’t even tried to make you walk. 

Kuroobi dumped you back inside Nami’s room. Your room now. He made sure that before he left he locked the shackle back in place. A reminder that you weren’t going to be leaving this room on your own. You were left soaked, dirty, and blooded on the floor waiting for the next day to come. 

You could handle the bruises and the sores. You could even handle the shackle on your ankle. What you couldn’t handle was the cold. The island was warm enough during the day, but at night the island turned into a different season. The cold stone that layered the room only helped to seal in the dampness making the night feel like an eternity. 

You weren’t able to get any rest and because of that, when Nami came sauntering in you thought you were hallucinating. It wasn’t until she threw a pair of clothes in your direction that you realized you couldn’t be hallucinating an outfit like that. 

“Don’t you own any long sleeves,” you groaned. 

“I could just take them back and leave you to sit in soaked clothes.”

It took your body a moment to peel itself from the spot on the floor. Your hands pushed an aching body up off the floor that felt ready to crack at the slightest movement until you were at least in a sitting position. You regarded Nami before looking at the nice and dry clothes she’d thrown in front of you. 

“You are right. Dry clothes are better than wet ones any day.”

A soft smile curled her lips that helped soften the stance she’d taken on. Her arms were back to being guarded across her chest while her shoulder rested against one of the many pillars that held up the room. There was no way of knowing what she was thinking as she regarded you. Whatever it was, however, you were willing to bet not one bit of it was good. 

The small amount of mirth that smile awarded you in brightening up her face quickly dimmed to a shadow when you stood up. Your hands quickly worked the damp clothes off your body and into the ones she’d brought you. While you weren’t happy about being in another questionable top, you were happily surprised to find that she’d brought you cargo pants. 

“Since you brought me cargo pants all can be forgiven about the shirt.” 

“I seriously question our friendship with your weird love for cargo pants.”

“They are literally fashion’s utility pants.”

“Okay, Doc, no one should say that with a straight face and mean it.”

You wanted to tell her she was just hating on the amount of pockets that could be found on these bad boys. You hadn’t really learned to love them until you’d forgotten your satchel one day when you went forging with Naan. She’d chastised you relentlessly for being so foolish. 

“Your head is always up in the clouds where it shouldn’t be.” 

That was her favorite assumption. Your head was always everywhere but where Naan wanted it to be, which usually meant reality. Naan could complain all she wanted, however, you’d realize the nifty extra pockets scattered around your legs proved to be a great place to stick mushrooms and truffles. 

You’d successfully got them on and turned to let Nami know exactly what you thought of her and her distaste for efficiency, but felt the playful words become an afterthought once you saw her. You were positive she wasn’t going to cry. Not in this place. Whatever Arlong Park was to you, you knew it paled in comparison to her experience. 

While you’d had the pleasure of Arlong’s hospitality for almost a full week, Nami’s was longer. Surely, it had to be more than a few years worth of being subjected to hardening herself against whoever Arlong wanted her to be. You were willing to bet that the couple weeks she’d spent with all of you was the first time Nami got to enjoy finding out who she really was outside of whatever trauma she’d endured. The shackle attached to your ankle was a great reminder it belonged to Nami first. 

“What’s wrong?”

A soft scoff left her as her shoulder pushed away from the pillar. She began to walk the circle of the room while her feet kicked at the dirt floor. 

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Nami-“

“Don’t. Don’t try and tell me that this isn’t my fault.”

You felt your brow knit together at her words. You wanted to go to her but the sound of the chain scraping against the stone floor was a painful reminder you only had so many feet spared to you. Unfortunately, Nami resided over where you couldn’t reach her: her own private island of regret. 

“Nami, how in the hell do you consider any of this your fault?”

“Doc, have you seen yourself? If Luffy, Usopp, or jesus, Zoro saw what you looked like…”

This time you did take a step forward. You moved until you were at the first step and the shackled pulled violently against your momentum. 

“I know I’m not going to win any beauty contests right now,” you informed her, cutting her off. “But it’s like you said, you didn’t make me come, Nami. I came here on my own free will, and if I had to make the choice again I would still do it.”

“How can you say that after what they did to you yesterday?” 

“Yeah, yesterday did suck.” You couldn’t deny that. “It sucked a shit ton. I still wouldn’t change my decision to come to save Luffy. To save you.” 

You knew there was a chance saying that last part was going to drastically change her mood. You watched that very thing happen at lightning speed. One minute Nami appeared ready to repent for every bad thing she, and the world, had ever done and the next, a hardness resonated through her, stiffening her shoulders and rearing back her head like she was ready to spit venom. 

“I never asked you to come here for me and I don’t need saving.”

“Again, this creepy ass chain and shackle thing says otherwise.” In case she wasn’t familiar with what you meant, you made sure to point down to your latest accessory. “I’m your friend, Nami and nothing is ever going to change that.”

Nami shook her head and turned to face the door. You weren’t sure if she was going to look back at you or completely leave the room. The tension in her shoulders gave the impression she was ready to bolt. Another heavy sigh came from her and her arms released from their place across her chest. 

“I’ve been asked to take you out to get the ingredients for you to start making that antidote you promised Arlong. He said it’s about time you deliver.”

Arlong was lucky you needed to find ingredients to make some different tonics for Nazifa’s dad. You weren’t sure what he was sick with or if he could even be healed, but the most you could do is make something to make whatever it was just a little more bearable. 

“Are you going to have to walk me like a dog on a leash?”

If Nami could roll her eyes any harder they would’ve gone completely white. 

“Stop being so dramatic. You get to walk leash free.”

Nami walked down the couple of steps and bent down by your ankle. She produced a row of keys from her pocket and you couldn’t help but let out a “Thank god,” when she stuck the key in the lock and released its hold from your ankle. 

“Is that why you brought me cargo pants?”

Nami looked about as confused as you’d imagine someone would be when they had absolutely no damn clue what you were talking about. 

“Why would that be the reason I brought you ugly ass pants?”

“They are not ugly,” you reprimanded her. “They serve a purpose.”

“Purpose or not they literally do nothing for your ass.”

“Nami, I’m not changing and I don’t have a satchel. Arlong ripped it apart the other day when he destroyed what I’d brought from the Merry.”

Nami held up a finger indicating for you to wait before she flipped open her satchel. In a matter of seconds she produced a much smaller charcoal leather satchel and handed it to you. You cautiously took it while you flipped it over in your hands taking notice of the oddly placed straps and-

“It’s a thigh satchel.”

Nami must have taken note of your apparent confusion and thankfully told you before you embarrassed yourself by trying to put it on over your shoulders. 

“Oh. Cool.” You waited a breath before asking, “Why couldn’t you just get me a regular satchel?”

“I had to find something to offset the tragedy that is that outfit you’re wearing.”

“Oh yeah!” 

You fake laughed and Nami wasted no time in walking towards the exit. If the pep in her step was any indication, Nami was extremely pleased with herself. She wasn’t waiting for you to catch up and it forced you to rush out after her. A grumble of, “You got jokes,” humming past your lips as you took up step beside her. 

You weren’t sure how long Nami and you forged across the island, but you knew, no matter how long it’d been, it was the most free you’d felt in days. The beauty of it? You’d be able to find ingredients for the fish rot and plenty of others to make for Nazifa’s father. You knew that information wasn’t something Nami would run and tell Arlong about but, just on the safe side, you kept it to yourself. 

It felt good to be outside. Away from Arlong and Kuroobi and every other asshole who had made it their personal mission to see you miserable. Since you’d come to the Conomi Islands you didn’t get a chance to enjoy it past your first initial moment walking through the tangerine groves and the cautious gaze of villagers. 

You weren’t taking for granted the easy way your shoulders relaxed in Nami’s company. The way the breeze rolled through the groves and left the heavy handed scent of citrus in the air. You hadn’t noticed it before - how the air seemed to forever be stamped with the scent. Then again, you hadn’t been in the best place to really take it all in either. 

While you’d walked through grove after grove and into the forest beyond, you ran your hands against the coarse bark of the trees. Your fingers digging into the grooves that told the decades of growth that housed thousands of stories. You memorized the formation of vegetation and the different flowers that peaked beneath the sides of bushes or grew wrapped around huts like ivy. You wished you had more time to study some of them. To draw them inside your notebook and make small observations about the patterns of the soil they grew in and their roots. 

Every place you walked there were more mysteries for your brain to unravel, and it all came with their fresh crushing realization you wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of it. It wasn’t until you came to a grove surrounded by willow trees and hydrangeas with hues in lilac and blue-violet that your feet grew rooted to the spot. It wasn’t exactly like Irkhaven but it felt eerily close to it. You expected to turn and find Zoro standing at the entrance of the willows branches. A fresh flower plucked between his fingers and waiting to place it somewhere in your hair. 

The ache of never seeing him again felt worse than death.

It pained you when Nami informed you it was time to head back. It was the first time you considered running. To promise the devil anything he wanted to allow you to stay outside in the safety of the grove for just a little while longer.

When you got back to Arlong Park you were told you needed to start mixing up the medicine asap. Arlong already had a line of fishmen waiting for you to take care of and mend. It wasn’t something you minded, since it gave you access to open flames and mortars. Everything you told him you needed, Arlong made sure was there waiting for you when you and Nami returned. It made it all the easier to make other things along with the antidote for the fish rot. 

While you worked a part of you was overcome with the urge to alter what you made. It would be easy. You’d come across loads of fly agaric grouped together at the base of a tree trunk. Usually, you never would’ve picked up such an ingredient, but ever since you’d opened yourself up to the darkness you couldn’t get rid of the whispers. 

Evil wormed its way inside your mind like arsenic - poisoning every thought into something putrid. Naan warned you - chastised you - to keep away from the whispers and their sweet words. She’d asked you to swear to her you would never let it in. 

You wondered if she would forgive you for not being able to keep your word. 

Now, at times like now, as you ground up ingredients and placed it inside the beaker to boil something dark demanded you add it. Twist the organs of the men until they rot from the inside out. The more you tried to ignore the whispers, the stronger they seemed to get until they practically screamed; rattling around all your thoughts. 

So, when Nami told you that you were going with her to Coco Village you welcomed the distraction. Plus, it meant you would get to help Nazifa and, just maybe, helping her father would be enough to heal yourself. 

“You sure do like picking berries and grass don’t you?” Nami teased. 

Her words cut through your current thoughts as you tried to gently tug the last of the moss from the trunk of the tree.

“This is not just grass. It’s moss, and this specific strain is a great homeopathic to stimulate healing,” you informed her. “Also - where are these berries you speak of because I am starving.” 

Before Nami could turn away you easily caught the rise of her lips as her booted feet kicked at the ground. You wish she wouldn’t have tried to hide her smile. It would’ve been the first nice thing to see all day and the least moodiest look from Nami specifically since you’d left Arlong Park a second time. You weren’t a hundred percent sure what was said between her and Arlong, or why exactly she didn’t seem thrilled to go to this village, but Nami acted like she would rather be set on fire than go.

“Sorry, no berries here. Just an abundance of tangerines, though.” 

“Berries or tangerines: I will gladly eat both.”

Gods, did you mean it. You’d been without food since the few tangerines Nazifa fed you and the bread and water Nami snuck in just after you’d come back from your earlier expedition. You glanced over at your friend and found her deep in thought. You were getting ready to ask her if you could give her a couple berry for her thoughts when she spoke. 

“I’m glad he didn’t take that from you.”

“Take what?”

“Your love for what you do. Foraging and just…helping people.” 

“Arlong won’t win if that’s his goal. These hands were born to be knuckle deep in some earthworm's home.” By the way Nami stared at you, it begged the question: “Too much?”

Nami's response came in her shaking her head causing laughter to spill out with each flick. It was one of the best sounds you’d heard all day. You wish it would’ve stayed longer, but when you came to a wooden fence line, an obvious entrance to a village, all the happiness she’d shown evaporated in seconds.

“We’re here.”

“What exactly are we here to do?” 

Nami sighed out her reply. 

“We’re here to collect the villager’s tribute payment.” 

“Oh. Yeah, this doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a good time.”

“It’s not.”

The both of you barely crested the entrance to the village and were greeted by the sight of what looked like most of the villagers in the square. The constable stood facing everyone with a leather box in his hands open and waiting for the next set of villagers to empty out their life savings inside. 

Yeah. This was definitely not a good time for anyone involved. 

Your eyes scanned the crowd for a hint of a tiny figure somewhere among the downcast adults. You were about to give up when you heard a familiar voice shout your name. You were still looking for Nazifa when her tiny body came barreling into you from the left. Her arms wrapped tightly at your waist in a hug full of gratitude. 

“They let you out! And you came!”

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

It felt like you had to pry her arms off to get her to look at you. Her tiny body gave an excited jump before she launched herself back against you. Her arms wrapped around you and this time it felt just a little tighter.  You gave her a brief hug of your own in hopes it would get her to release you. 

“Are you making friends without me?” 

You glanced over at Nami beside you. Her eyes were wide with questions as they glanced from you and darted down to point at Nazifa. You offered her a shrug in reply that earned you a hard stare. 

“She fed me tangerines when Arlong left me out on the beach.”

Nami took a cautious step towards you to fill in what remaining space was left between you. The movement caused Nazifa to tighten her arms closer at your waist and your arms instinctively enclosed around her. The movement wasn’t lost on Nami but she didn’t let it keep her from leaning in to ask, “Doc, what are you doing.” 

“Her dad is sick, Nami.”

“And? What does that have to do with you?”

“I promised I would come and see him. Give them medicine to try and help him, if I could.”

Her eyes softened but not enough for her to back down. You already knew what she would most likely say. She wasn’t going to agree to this or find it smart.

“Doc-“

“Nami, please.”

“I’m not trying to be the bad guy here,” she whispered, her words fierce with pleading for you to understand. “But this is not a good idea.”

“Nami-“

“It’s dangerous, Doc.” Her words stopped whatever argument you wanted to make. How could helping people be wrong? “I need you to understand the risk you are taking in doing this. If Arlong finds out-“

“Who is going to tell him, Nami? You?”

Your words came out meaner - sharper - than you intended, but the irritation that flared through you wasn’t something you could hide. How could she tell you she was glad Arlong didn’t take away your love for helping others and turn around and tell you not to help Nazifa’s father? It felt contradictory. It felt hypocritical. It felt like a warning label being smacked onto your forehead. 

You tried to ignore the way she deflated at your words. The flash of hurt that dulled her eyes just before she locked herself away inside herself. Away from you. 

“No. I wouldn’t, but you are forgetting that people around here are desperate for food. You take away someone’s basic needs and you’ll see how quickly they’ll turn on someone for a few scraps.”

It was logical. It was more than logical and you knew it, but with Nazifa still holding onto you…how could you tell her no? How could you send her home after she’d desperately searched for help and found you? You knew if you sent her away it would do more than just kill her father. Whatever magic Nazifa thought the world held would be gone in that one moment, and you would be damned if you were the villain in her story. 

“I hear you, Nami, I do.”

“You aren’t going to listen to me are you?”

You couldn’t answer her. All you could afford was a sharp nod of no to give her the answer she dreaded. Nami turned away from you and faced the large group of people. You wish you could’ve said something to ease whatever thought she had, but you knew it would be a lie. Nami placed her hands on her hips as she spoke. 

“Whatever you’re going to do, make it fast. I’ll handle this on my own.” 

Your heart sank as you realized maybe what Nami found more disappointing was that she’d expected you to be there for her. Whatever this village was to her and her past she’d expected you to be there with her while she did this. 

You didn’t know what to say so you took Nazifa’s hand and motioned for her to lead you to where you needed to go. The little girl did so without hesitation. She dragged you back towards a close knit row of huts off to your right. You thought she was about to take you completely out of the village when you stopped at the very last house. 

Once inside, you’d found an elderly woman at the bedside of a man you could only guess was Nazifa’s father. The elderly woman tried to rise up from her chair when Nazifa informed her just who you were. 

“It’s the healer, Va.” 

The healer. The doctor. Medicine woman. Witch. All of these you’d heard during your time with Naan. None of them had ever been used to describe who you were until you’d joined Luffy’s crew. 

Luffy who believed in you more than you’d ever believed in yourself. Usopp who talked you up even when you felt like you could never compare. It was at this moment inside of Nazifa’s family’s hut that you had the chance to prove exactly what you were capable of. You weren’t Naan. You didn’t have decades worth of knowledge and experience, but you knew you could be better. Naan never left Syrup village. Her knowledge was limited. Her encounters with those who were sick even more limited. 

You could do better. Be better. 

You took in a deep breath as you moved forward with more confidence than you felt. Your eyes swiftly did a visual assessment of the parlor of his skin, the yellow of his eyes, and the struggling breaths that deepened at his thorax. You set to work pulling out a stethoscope Nami had tucked inside the thick satchel along with the tonics you’d brought and set to work. 

By the time you left the hut and headed back towards where you’d left Nami you felt a strong sense of accomplishment. While you hadn’t exactly been able to find out what it was that was making Nazifa’s father so sick, you’d improved his breathing and eased his suffering enough that he was able to finally sleep. You’d left behind an antibiotic of sorts to help fight any infection that might be in his blood and promised to come back to check on him. 

You were almost back to where you’d left Nami when you heard her. There was no mistaking the anger in her tone; the fear that made each word wobble in uncertainty. 

“Luffy. What are you doing here?”

Luffy??

Luffy was here? If Luffy was here then that meant…

No. No, you couldn’t let yourself hope that he’d been crazy enough to come and get you - to come and save Nami. But you knew, even without the years of knowing someone like the way you knew Usopp, there was no way Luffy would let Arlong keep you. 

Your eyes scanned over the crowd as it began to disperse. You were struggling to find the mint green of her tank top. It had to be the easiest thing to spot it had to be- 

You knew that bandana anywhere. You’d saved up two months of your allowance helping Naan to get him that one for his fifteenth birthday. 

“Usopp?”

You needed to know it was him and that your eyes weren’t playing cruel tricks on you. You were rewarded with his head whipping up - searching - for the owner of the voice. Your voice. When his eyes landed on your figure the result was instant. The both of you broke out into a run that ended with you colliding into one another. The force of his body slamming into yours knocked the wind out of you, but you didn’t care. Not when your arms were able to find a home around his shoulders. It was easy to forget that your ribs were bruised until he squeezed just a little too tight. 

In a flash, you felt like you were seven-years-old again and back on the beach. Usopp’s slingshot spread back to ward off anyone who would try to harm you. The memory made your arms tighten like ivy around him with your face burying deep into his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey, everything is going to be okay, Doc. The Great Captain Usopp has come to rescue you.” 

You didn’t want to peel yourself off him, but his hands were already on your shoulders and gently moving you away from him. He hadn’t seen yet what you looked like. It’s hard to get a clear view of someone when they are sprinting head on towards you. You tried to keep your eyes directed at the toes of your boots, but an all too familiar cook’s voice snapped your head back up. 

“Jesus, Doc, what did they do to you?”

You didn’t give him a response. You couldn’t. Not when you felt a dam of emotion crashing against your chest. If you spoke, you might break. So, you reached up and quickly pulled Sanji into a hug of his own and, without question, he responded in kind. His hands, however, held you more delicately than Usopp. Sanji saw your face. His eyes no doubt took in the extent of the damage to your body and deemed you fragile like fine china. 

You tried to think of what you should say. What you should ask. 

Ask about him. 

That’s what you really wanted to do until your eyes peaked over Sanji’s shoulder. The glimpse of moss-colored hair forced your arms to retract from the hug sooner than you would’ve liked, but your racing heart demanded confirmation that you weren’t being delusional. That Arlong hadn’t drowned every last bit of sanity from your mind. 

It wasn’t until Sanji released you and stepped back that Zoro came into view and, suddenly, your world felt whole again. 

You were hugging the waiter. 

Zoro could handle you hugging Usopp. It was logical. It made sense. But the waiter? Zoro wondered what fresh hell he’d walked into for this to even be a possibility. 

It wasn’t until he watched your arms slowly relax away from his shoulders that he prepared himself for when you would turn and face him. When you would finally realize he was there too and waiting along with everybody else. 

In a million ways this scenario played out in his head. While he’d laid aboard the Merry in his hammock staring up at the ceiling and imagined how you would look seeing him awake. Would time stop like it had in his dream? With your eyes glassy - ready to shatter - and your lips parted with either curse or praise ready for his to take on. Or when he’d stood at the stern of the ship, a piece of the broken bottle he’d shattered in his room pressed tight in his hand, as he looked out over the cerulean waters and played out how you’d both react to seeing each other again. 

Realistically, he wanted to remain stoic and calm. Zoro liked to imagine you, however, bolting towards him with all your chaotic energy bursting at the seams and engulfing him. His body instantly reacting to the charge of your body colliding into his and demanding his reaction. But Zoro himself? He couldn’t see himself being anything less than who he was, but the minute he heard your voice shout Usopp’s name, Zoro could no longer deny the way his heart raced. 

He wanted to hear you call his name with the same excitement and end it with the same breathless sound of disbelief. The jealousy that enveloped his heart and squeezed until he was ready to snarl felt like a dangerous thing when he realized the waiter had moved forward after Usopp let go and you’d wrapped your arms around him. The asshole practically tugged your feet off the ground with how tightly he held you. 

It must have been the sound of his thumb flicking the Wado Ichimonji free from his sheath that reminded everyone that he was there. It reminded the waiter he was there by the way his shoulders tensed: the way his arms dropped like a shrug from your body to step back and stare at Zoro. 

Zoro couldn’t care less. 

He’d been waiting - daydreaming - far too long about all the scenes that could play out. The desperate way his hands ached to reach out and touch you. Zoro knew he wanted you in every single way he could have you, and gods be with whoever got in his way. 

Waiters included. 

He wanted to have you come barreling towards him - to knock the wind out of him from being so excited to see him. It wasn’t until you’d let go of the waiter that Zoro realized you did knock the wind out of his lungs, but not in the way he’d hoped. 

You looked like his but something was wrong. The fire that burned behind your eyes was dulled out until it quietly roared. The smile that brightened up your face now barely moved past the cracks on your lips to shine a painful light on a kaleidoscope of bruises and cuts that decorated your face, neck, and - 

How far did they go? 

Zoro had imagined himself being stoic and unmoving; waiting for you to collide into him. Instead, he felt his body close the final gaps between the two of you in three solid strides with his hands carefully grabbing at your face. He saw the wince just as his palms touched down on your cheeks, and his thumbs gently moved you around so he could get the full extent of what exactly he was seeing.

“Who did this?”

A fire hotter than hell raged in his belly. It roared in his veins and threatened to burst out of him in a blur of cuts and violence. He wanted to kill every son of a bitch who’d laid a hand on you. 

“Zoro-“

It was the first time he’d heard you say his name. He’d imagined it sounding sweeter than the caution that was laced in your tone. 

“I know you’re an idiot but you can’t be that much of an idiot, shit stick,” Buggy snapped from inside the pouch at the waiter's back. You looked around confused and, if it was different circumstances, Zoro would’ve thought it was cute. “Obviously, whatever it is, Arlong did it. Again. Bad. Fish. Get it, yet?”

Zoro could tell it was true. The fear that flashed in your eyes. The sheer hatred that came after that took him by such surprise it knocked back his next words. It was all he needed to know that whatever it was this fishman was doing, it was enough to make your rose colored glasses fade into something horrific.

Zoro wasn’t sure why that thought broke him as much as it did. 

But he could see it wasn’t just Arlong. The more he looked, the more he could see from the tank top you wore a deep bruise that bloomed upwards like a riptide from between your breasts. The shallow breaths you took indicated to him your ribs were either fractured or broken. 

With every new swipe of his eyes across your body a new horror was unleashed and Zoro could barely think straight. His body vibrated violently as he held you, to the point your own hands wrapping securely at his wrists wasn’t to ground you, but him. 

The flash of orange hair in his peripherals told him Nami had finally made it to the group and his eyes lashed out to take hold of where she stood. 

“You let them do this to her?” His voice was the epitome of darkness. The boogeyman in body and voice as he tried to let you go and move towards Nami. 

“I didn’t let them do anything to her.”

Nami deserved more credit. The flash of uncertainty moved like a reflection through her icy expression just enough to know she was nervous. 

“She went to protect you and this is how you repay her?” Zoro sheathed. 

Whether it was to protect Nami or make sure she wasn’t alone it didn’t matter. Zoro knew you left to protect Luffy, but he also knew it was to protect Nami too. Whether it was from Arlong or herself, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact you believed you were doing it in the service of helping, and all Zoro could see was the abuse of that trust. The abuse of you. 

He tried to pull away but you moved in front of him. Your hands still holding onto his wrists even as he’d dropped his hands from your face. His hand struggling to find the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji for - for what? 

“Doc made her choice to come. Nobody asked her too, and I don’t need protection. I don’t need any of you.”

Her words only threatened to send him further over the deep end. He watched as you closed your eyes listening to Nami as she directed daggers at every single one of them. Zoro wasn’t sure if it’s because you’d heard the same speech on repeat or if it was something else. Maybe there was something else there they couldn’t see. It all felt possible because when you opened your eyes again to look up at him a tiredness settled into your shoulders and deepened the lines on your face. 

He should’ve asked more questions. Should’ve cared to do so. All Zoro cared about was the way you looked at him. 

Save me, Pirate Hunter…

His eyes roamed over your face and he knew he would do whatever it took to do just that. 

Luffy moved forward to talk to Nami, and Zoro wanted to tell him not to bother. This whole trip felt like a waste to save someone who didn’t seem particularly ready to be saved. Zoro thought you did, but something was gnawing at him. 

Let Luffy handle Nami. He would handle you. 

Zoro was steeling himself to say - what? He wasn’t sure and for a heart stopping minute it didn’t matter. Not when you looked up at him with mischief in your eyes and a smile that ruined his whole world. 

“I am so, so happy to see you’re awake.”

I woke up for you. 

A braver man would’ve said it. A man looking at the woman who had bewitched them both body and soul would say it. Zoro wanted to say it. He needed to get it out but he was torn between words and actions. He allowed himself to give into one of them when a tear slid down your face. His hand moved up to have his finger gently wipe it away. 

“I came to save you.”

A soft laugh pushed past your lips. Zoro wanted to crash his against yours to capture the sound and house it inside him forever. 

“I know.”

And you did. Surely by now there was no way he was being stoic; an unreadable force that stood unmoving against your hurricane. Zoro knew he was swept up and for once he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure what he would have said in return at that moment. All thoughts ceased when Nami’s words cut through the fog and reminded him of where they were. 

“Come on, Doc. We have to head back.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think I’m letting you take her anywhere.”

Zoro’s words were final. He wasn’t leaving any room for discussion. How Nami would think even for a second that Luffy himself would let her take you back was beyond-

“I have to go-“

“Doc, you don’t need to go anywhere.” 

Luffy took a small step forward to remind you that he was there too. They were all there for you, but he made sure that Zoro and you still resided alone in the space Zoro created. 

“Doc. Look at you.” 

Usopp didn’t just sound defeated. The heartbreak was evident in his entire body as he motioned towards you. Usopp mentioned looking but he wasn’t able to do it himself. Every time Zoro caught him trying to stare at you, he watched as Usopp turned away. 

“How can you ask to go back - expect any of us to let you go back - when you look like this?”

If Zoro couldn’t make you see reason then maybe it would be Usopp. You’d tucked your chin against your chest, which made it impossible for him to see your eyes. Zoro didn’t need to see you to know what you were going to say. 

He was sure it was meant for everyone, but your voice was so soft Zoro could barely hear you. He wished he hadn’t. 

“You don’t understand. If I don’t go back he’ll hurt Nami or someone in the village. I can’t just leave.”

All the rage his body had begun to release came flooding back. He wanted to shake you - scream that you were being a fool but Zoro knew it was pointless. He remembered the determination that hardened your eyes in that damn lavender field when you told him caring didn’t make someone weak. Maybe it didn’t make them weak, but it sure as hell made them stupid. 

His nerves were frayed at the end and, like a drowning man, he reached for something to keep him grounded. Zoro was aware that both of his hands were back to clutching onto your face like the waves to the shore. His thumbs absentmindedly running along your checks to soothe either you or him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t care that the position left no space between either of you. Zoro could care less what anyone thought or how intimate it placed you. What could he do to make you see that going back was suicide? 

Your hands were clutching at his wrists and Zoro allowed himself to believe that it meant you were staying. That the pleading in your eyes was for something else unspoken and not for him to let you go. How could he do that when he’d just found you? He could feel his own plea building at the back of his tongue. 

How was he supposed to let you go when you were going back to danger? When you were going somewhere he couldn’t follow and he couldn’t protect you the way he should. 

“And what about me?” 

Those four words fell without permission from his lips, and Zoro silently hated himself for it. He wanted to be selfish and say them. There wasn’t any denying it. He wanted to keep you rooted next to him forever and kill anything that tried to harm you again. Zoro wanted it so badly he could feel his hands tightening around you, his hand itching to take hold of the Wado and plunge it into every last fishmen who’d been fool enough to touch you, and it took every last ounce of strength he had left to stop. He didn’t want to put you in a place to choose, but the swelling of your right eye and the delicate mapping of purple and green bruises under the surface of your skin demanded he did. 

“Zoro. Please. Please, don’t make me choose.”

You did whisper this time. Your voice was too soft to carry past the small space he’d created with his body. Zoro was aware that what little space that’d been left between the two of you was gone. His body having closed it without him knowing, and his forehead inches away from resting down on yours. 

“I can’t let you go back.”

The words choked their way free from his chest. They weren’t tinged with sadness or melancholy, but colored in every last ounce of self-control he had left. 

This time, he did allow his forehead to dip those last remaining inches to gently press against yours. He hated how his own voice, under all that hellfire, sounded weak. He wanted to be strong, but a sickness of fear was brewing in his gut. The unknown weighed down on him until it threatened to crush him into the dirt. 

“What do you want me to say? What is it you need me to say to keep you here? What if I tell you, right now, I’m sorry-“

“Zoro,” there it was - the crack in your voice. “Zoro, I am begging you not to do this now.”

“Why not? What if this is the last time I get to see you before you run off and play the sacrificial lamb.” 

“You act like I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for you too!”

Your words dimmed the tide of his rising anger. It wasn’t real. He knew his growing rage steamed from the terror growing in his chest that he would let you go and this would be the last time he’d ever get to hold you. Feel his hands on your face and your eyes looking up at him like you wanted nothing else but him. 

Zoro prayed you could see how much he wanted you - how stupid he was to deny the fondness he held for you in his chest. He believed that you both had nothing but time stretched out before you, and he was learning painfully fast that life didn’t play by romanticized thoughts. 

He should’ve told you sooner…

“And you act like I wouldn’t give mine just to make sure you were safe. I woke up and found you gone with a stupid letter telling me to apologize.”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re doing much of any kind of apologizing, by the way.” 

There you were. That light smile on your lips that tilted them just enough. It wasn’t a full one, not the one he'd groan to love, but it was enough. The spark of mirth in your eyes that rose like a shooting star and fell just as quickly. 

“That comes after she admits that she needs to stay next to me where I can keep her safe.” 

He already knew what you were going to say before you looked away from him forcing him to release his hands from your face. He knew your answer as if you were both tethered together, because only though it had been a few weeks, Zoro knew you enough that you would never let someone take your place. 

When you looked back at him, Zoro felt his world spin as he tried to quiet the rushing tide of blood to his heart. He needed to keep his composure for you, but knew he was failing miserably. He felt so helpless and it only grew worse when the first tear slid down your cheek. 

“He will hurt Nami. The village. The children. One life for the life of many is a small price to pay.” 

“And what if I say it’s a big price for me? Why can’t you see that? I’m not great with words. I don’t say the right things -“ he spoke your name and Zoro watched the way it affected you. He would say it over and over again like he was worshiping at your altar if it would make you stay. “A piece of me will die if anything to you. Do you understand that?” 

And there it was. The truth Zoro had wanted to stay away from. Seven years ago, he found out what it felt like to lose someone he loved. 

Kuina. 

Seven years and the pain of her loss stuck with him like a fresh wound. The promise they’d made the only memory he could carry forward for her along with her sword. What could he keep with him if you died? A shattered bottle and words of regret to gather dust on his conscience.

“Doc, we need to go. Now.”

Zoro couldn’t stop himself from tearing his eyes away to look at Nami who was currently looking at all of them like she hated every last one of them. The rage that Zoro had suppressed was stoked back to life at Nami’s words. It was a welcome familiar feeling compared to his chest feeling like it would cave in at any minute. The harsh way she spoke to you like you weren’t her crew mate - a friend. Like you weren’t risking your life for her the same way Luffy was. 

“She’s not going back with you,” Zoro snapped. His own jaw set tight as that rage boiled hot under his blood. “You can go back on your own and deal with your own consciences.”

“Excuse me?”

Nami didn’t back down under the weight of his gaze; the way his eyes dug daggers into her. 

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I heard you, but she’s about as much a part of this crew as I am. Which is none. She’s branded an Arlong Pirate, just the same as me. Doc. Let’s. Go.”

Branded? Where? 

You went to step back and Zoro’s hand lashed out to grab at your forearm to yank you back. You were about to crash into his chest, his other arm ready to lock around your waist, when you surprised him with your own fit of strength and pulled yourself free, causing youself to stumble back. 

“Enough, Zoro!” You hissed. “I’m going back and it’s final. I’m not going to let someone else pay for my choices.”

His body threatened to lurch forward again. To grab you and throw you over his shoulder if thats what it took to get you to come back to the ship with him. Before he could even make his move, you gave him one last look before you turned on your heel and jogged over to Nami leaving him where you’d both stood alone. He watched as Nami cast them all one last look of defiance before she said something to you - something that made you both move faster out of the village. 

A nervous laugh cut through the tension the silence created, and Zoro didn’t have to look over to know it was Usopp. He was currently adjusting his bandana as he watched until your retreating forms completely disappeared from view.

“That went about as bad as it possibly could have gone,” Usopp laughed, his voice filled with unease. 

“We should have stopped Doc,” Sanji huffed. “Did you see how she looked?”

“We all saw how she looked,” Zoro snapped. 

Sanji’s eyes narrowed in on him and Zoro was ready to welcome the fight. Anything to release the storm of emotion that was building inside of him. 

“Yeah, you saw it, and yet, you let her go. Some big man you are.”

Zoro felt his feet shift in the sand with his hand on the hilt of the Wado, ready to unsheathe the blade, when Luffy thoughtlessly moved between them. His eyes still turned towards the gates of the village you’d left through. 

“I bet Doc knows something more than she can say.”

“How can you be so sure, Luffy?” Usopp asked. 

It didn’t surprise Zoro to see a small smile creep at the edges of his mouth in an attempt to lighten the load of his thoughts. He was trying to put them all at ease, which felt like a mountain of a task with the memory your battered body left on their souls. 

“Because I know, Doc. She leads with her heart, and I’m going to trust her on this. Come on. We are going to do some digging of our own. Hey, scar guy!”

With one final glance at the gate all four of them moved towards the gentleman standing at the edge of his house. His eyes filled with distrust as he watched them move towards him. Zoro could care less about finding out more information about Nami and her reasons, but if it helped him get closer to wherever you were he would gladly follow Luffy’s lead. As long as it leads him back to you. 

Nami and you walked in silence. You didn’t know what to say and, by the way she was gripping the tribute box, neither did she. You weren’t sure what had been said between Luffy and Nami. What she said to the rest of the crew. You knew whatever it was it hadn’t been the truth, and saying it had broken another piece of who she was - what she wanted. 

You wanted to comfort her. Say some pretty words that may, or may not, heal her world like the magic inside the books of fairytales. You wanted to have magic the way fairy godmother’s seemed to have where all the girls’ dreams came true, and all the bad things in their life made sense.

Sometimes, bad things happen to those least deserving. It didn’t have a rhyme or reason. The world just wasn’t built on make believe no matter how many times when you were little you hoped it was. Yes. You wanted to say something profound and meaningful, but another part of you wanted to turn around and run back to him. 

Zoro was awake. He was awake and okay, well, about as okay as one could be when you’re still healing a large gash across your chest. 

I came to save you. 

You wish you could memorize those words - the way he looked at you - forever in the pages of your notebook. Maybe one of these days you would commit the image to the page, buried between recipes and diagrams of plants and the body. Your own secret page bookmarked with a snowdrop. 

Zoro didn’t say it. Not outright that what you felt that night in the galley wasn’t just you. Somewhere along the lines of annoyance, the two of you had unexpectedly fallen for one another. For so long, you thought it was just you. That you were crazy and the shared looks as you both said goodnight were just your imagination. He had always been intense. The way he looked at you and the weight of his gaze that always felt like a challenge. You never realized before but, while that same intensity hardened the darkness in his eyes, Zoro softened just a little when he looked at you. 

You witnessed it today when his hands took hold of your face and became rooted there to hold you. His body pressed itself against yours in a way you weren’t even sure Zoro had been aware of. It all happened so fast. An embarrassment burned against your cheeks as you remembered his reaction came from seeing you. 

How awful did you look? 

You didn’t know - couldn’t know. Mirrors weren’t really a luxury afforded to you at the moment. Not that you really wanted to know how you looked. You were so deep in thought you hadn’t realized Nami came to a stop a few feet back. The sound of her calling your name bringing you back to the present. 

“Earth to Doc! Where are you going?”

“Sorry, I was just-“ Nami waited for you to answer and you would have if you didn’t finally notice she was holding a shovel. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Hey, why are you holding a shovel?”

This is Grade A detective work you were doing. For further emphasis, in case Nami didn’t quit get what you meant, you added in a little pointing to drive the question home. 

“The village was short on their payment. I can’t go back to Arlong with what they have.”

“Yes. Okay. I’m not following. Why do you still have a shovel?”

The eye roll Nami gave was heard by the gods. She didn’t answer you right away. She took off her satchel and set it down beside a tree and walked over towards the opposite side of a grave site. The shovel struck down hard into the earth and brought up dirt all before she answered you. 

“If we go back without the full amount, Arlong will send someone to that village and have them killed. Since no one paid the tribute fee that means all of them will be killed. Do you get it now?”

You felt sick. Your own feet carried you over to the opposite side of Nami. You needed to see her face when you asked her, “Why is it called a tribute payment?”

You felt like you knew why it was a tribute. You just hoped maybe, for once, Nami could prove you wrong and the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Nami rolled her tongue across the inside of her cheek as she regarded you. A sinking feeling was growing as you realized she didn’t want to say it either. 

“It’s a tribute to Arlong for letting them live. They can’t pay, and they lose their usefulness.”

“Okay. So, again I ask, why are we here? What’s with the shovel?”

“I have money, okay! I have money buried here to pay for every last villager so that way Arlong doesn’t attack them.”

Nami’s chest was rising and falling like she’d just run a marathon. Or finally spoke her truth. How long had Nami paid for every villager to keep them alive? How long had she continued to be the figure of their hatred without them ever knowing exactly what it was she sacrificed for them?

“Nami-“

She swiftly held up her hand to stop you from continuing. 

“Don’t, Doc. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Nami! What else have you been doing? I knew it. I knew there was no way in hell you would work for that asshole without a reason.”

“And what do you think it is going to prove?”

“That you are a good fucking person, Nami! A good person who deserves so much more than this.”

You were both screaming at each other. The two of you are a mirror of the self-control that was slowly dwindling between the rapid rise and fall of your chests. You took a cautious step towards her and for a moment you thought she was going to hit you with the shovel to keep you away. 

“Nami, Luffy is here. He came here for us. If you tell him what is going on-“

“He doesn’t need to know. I have the money to pay for the villagers and to buy back the village. Once that’s done, I’m done with Arlong.”

I’m free. Those were the unspoken words that clung to the air between you. You wanted to ask her if she really believed that, because you didn’t. You’d only known Arlong for a week but it was enough to tell you he wasn’t going to let anyone go. 

“You don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore. Please, let me go back and tell Luffy.”

“No. After what I said to them…”

She couldn’t finish. You didn’t know what all was said, but you knew Luffy was still here. That underneath all the denial Nami threw his way, Luffy had been able to see it was just a defense mechanism. You weren’t sure if magic was real in the world, but if it was real, somehow Luffy possessed a form of it. He had the ability to see people for who they truly were. To see the dreams of others, and believe in them even when they didn’t believe in themselves. 

Nami was always the one who never mentioned a dream she held close. In the nights when promises, hopes, and dreams were mentioned Nami never shared hers. Everyone assumed she just didn’t have one - that the world jaded her enough to completely steal it away. Only Luffy knew deep down she had one and wasn’t willing to give up on her until she realized it too. 

“You know, no matter what you’ve said to him, Luffy isn’t going to hold it against you. You don’t have to do this alone, Nami. Not when you have a family who loves you.”

Your words jerked her head up and she looked ready to bolt. To argue with you and tell you that she didn’t have a family - you weren’t a family, but family didn’t need to be by blood. Blood didn’t make someone love you. It was the choice to do so, and even if Nami fought you until she was blue in the face you would still choose to call her family. 

You took a step towards her and stopped just mere inches from her. Your hands carefully reached out to grab her shoulders to help her understand you weren’t going anywhere. 

“I’ll only tell Luffy if that’s what you want, Nami, but I promise you the rest of them feel the same way. They wouldn’t have come here for you if they didn’t.”

“Zoro came here for you,” she noted. 

“That’s besides the point.”

Nami looked at you and for once she did it without her usual mask of indifference. The only thing you saw in her eyes was a mixture of fear and relief and you weren’t sure which one it was that was winning. 

“This isn’t your fight. Why would you do this? I don’t understand.”

“I told you. We're family. I know you aren’t leaving until you finish this, and I’m not leaving without you.”

Nami’s worry became all the more evident as her teeth began to gnaw at her bottom lip. She was struggling to decide what action to take. Your offer would remain even if she told you right now it wasn’t going to happen. You meant it when you told her that you weren’t leaving this hellhole without her. 

You were about to say something else - maybe less heartfelt and more cringy - but Nami saved you by blowing out a breath. You dropped your hands away from her and waited as patiently as you could for her answer. 

“Okay.”

“Yes!”

You couldn’t keep yourself from doing a victory jump. You wish Usopp was there. You both could’ve been jumping and screaming together. 

“If you are going to do that I’ll take it back.”

“Too late! You already said okay.” 

“I swear to god if you start dancing I’m leaving.” Nami really knew how to kill the mood. “Look, we still need to bring the tribute payment back. I’ll dig this up, deliver it, and remind Arlong of our deal. You try and find Luffy and meet me at the edge of the tangerine grove by the park.”

“That was one hell of a fast plan.”

Nami shrugged before she grabbed the shovel and started digging. 

“Plans are what I do. Now get going. It’s already getting dark.”

You glanced up at the sky and found its usual blue hue burning into a warm orange with the smoke of darkness following closely behind. Nami knew that you were running out of time. Whether this plan of hers worked or not, if neither of you returned back to Arlong Park, you knew he would come looking for you both. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything major until I’m back.”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Nami-“

“Because you’re the one usually making rash decisions-“

“Nami, promise me.”

You didn’t care if fear laced inside your voice and forced it to shatter. You weren’t worried about being brave because you were scared as hell. You’d be a fool to be any different. There were so many unknowns stretched out before you both. Connecting paths that wound their way to places neither of you had touched. 

With one last look back at Nami, she finally gave you a nod before she whispered, “I promise,” before you bolted back towards Coco Village. You could hear her screaming after you that you hadn’t promised back. You were well aware you hadn’t and honestly, you never intended too. 

Why did it seem like you were always running? When you first meet Luffy, Nami, and Zoro you ran out of Kaya’s house trying to save Luffy from the poison he’d ingested meant for Kaya. You’d run back to find Zoro climbing out of a well which, come to think of it, you never asked him why he was down there in the first place. Then followed Zoro in the wrong direction to stumble upon Luffy who sent all three of you sprinting back towards the house. You’d thought after that day you were done with running. 

The universe must have found it hilarious that you were sprinting back towards Coco Village. Your muscles burning as you force yourself to move faster down grove after grove. The chances of Luffy and them still standing in the spot you’d left them wasn’t realistic. Would it have been convenient? Hell yes. Realistic? Absolutely not. 

You came to a sliding stop through the village gates. It was hard not to take notice of the villagers giving you dirty looks for your haphazard entrance. Usually, you would’ve felt more apologetic but you didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

You made your way around the giant tree that was centered in the middle of the village. The last place you’d seen them had been on the East side of the huts. They’d walked in to see Nami collecting the tribute payment while you’d been off with Nazifa. Now there wasn’t any trace that they’d even been there. 

Your mind was racing trying to figure out where they might have gone. You weren’t a bloodhound. Without any indication or note or flare in the sky it felt like a wild goose chase in finding them. Your hands went up to scrub in irritation at your face, and when you brought them back down from your face Nazifa was just there in front of you. A scream tore from your throat that caused you both to jump. Every villager out that night sent you both death glares that forced you to hold up your hands in apology. 

“Nazifa, you scared me.”

“You came back so soon. I thought you said you’d be back in a few days.”

“My friends. The one in the straw hat: do you by chance know where they went?”

When she shook her tiny head no you tried not to deflate. This wasn’t the time to get sad or down. Nami was still waiting for you to get bac-

“No I don’t. Mr. Genzo might.”

“Mr. Genzo?”

Nazifa turned and pointed to the constable who stood back out on the deck of his office. You thanked Nazifa for the info and walked towards him. It was easy to see the minute his eyes caught sight of you, mistrust clouded his features. It wasn’t just that he didn’t know you. He’d seen you with Nami. 

You tried to plaster on a friendly smile and felt your busted lip crack under the strain. It was a great reminder that under different circumstances you might have been able to win him over with your warmth. In your current state, however, you looked less inviting, and more like a walking punching bag. 

“Hello.” You followed up your opening statement with an awkward wave. “I was wondering if you might be able to help me. A few of my friends were here earlier.”

“The Pirate Hunter in the straw hat.”

You felt yourself slowly blink at him as your brain tried to process what he’d just said. 

“Pirate…Hunter?”

“Yeah. It’s what the green-haired guy with the sword said. They said they were here for Arlong’s bounty.” 

It was smart. You were willing to bet Zoro had mentioned it to save Luffy from telling Mr. Genzo he was a pirate. It probably wouldn’t have won over any favors from him or the villagers if he’d mentioned his intentions of being The Pirate King. 

“Yes. Those guys. Do you know where they might have gone?”

“They asked about Nojiko. If you’re looking for them, I sent them down to her house. It’s at the edge of the tangerine grove.”

Fucking great. You tried to smile past the pain of realizing that meant you were once again going to have to run. You turned sharply on your heel and started running down the direction that Genzo mentioned. 

It felt like you could’ve been running back towards Nami. The endless sea of tangerines that you’d fallen in love with earlier suddenly felt overwhelming. The citrus in the air only grew heavier the further you went inside the pasture. It was the only thing that let you know you weren’t headed back to Arlong Park, where the smell of citrus was replaced with fish. 

Your muscles were beginning to burn and your breathing labored the further you went. You were deadly close to giving up - slowing down to a crawl when you remembered Nami was no doubt back at Arlong Park. The money she’d stolen to save the people in her village was handed over to the very monster who imprisoned you both. Tormented you both. 

What would she tell him when she walked in and you weren’t by her side? How much time could one of her well-constructed lies give you before Arlong’s distrust sent his people out searching for you? You couldn’t afford to slow down no matter how much your muscles threatened to collapse. You refused to give him the chance to hurt Nami or anyone else. 

With that thought still searing through your brain you came crashing through the end of the grove. The dirt path widening to show a worn down lane placed to walk between the three huts that were scattered. Your eyes scanned down to the very last hut where the light of candles burned. 

“Last hut at the end,” you hummed to yourself. 

You tried to start running the last few feet but your legs refused to move. Your legs almost crumbled at the suggestion so you settled for a brisk walk. You were almost to the house when your eyes caught his figure. He was sitting out on a rock. The Wado clasped tightly in his hand and held the length of his body. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was napping like he usually did, but the closer you got to the hut the easier it was for you to see the tightness that resonated throughout his body. 

Gods, you’d forgotten how good he looked in that damn cloud button up. The different hues of blue made his current ashen tone more apparent and made you long for the healthy glow the sun had deepened into his skin. The only thing you hadn’t forgotten is the look on his face as you’d left him standing inside the village. His pleas haunting you with each step you took; your muscles aching to turn around and collide back into him. 

You knew it had taken everything for Zoro to speak so openly - so honest - with you the way he did. It was everything you’d wanted to hear that night in the galley. It seemed you were both doomed to be speaking at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

You were only a few inches away from him now when his head turned in your direction. The minute his eyes opened and Zoro saw it was you he was up and moving. His hand quickly slid the Wado Ichimonji back into the holster at his hip. It felt wrong seeing him with only one. Your mind seemed keen to remind you exactly why Zoro only had one sword left. 

Flashes of Mihawk slicing through his swords in a clash of metal made your body jerk. Your heart clamored in horror in your chest: you didn’t want to remember the next part. Your memories didn’t care about your feelings, and as Zoro moved towards you, a flash of discomfort so brief ran through him it caused his hand to involuntarily touch his chest. It was all your nightmares needed to revisit one of the worst moments of your life. 

By the time Zoro was within reaching distance, your hands shot out to grab at his face the way he’d held on to yours. It felt so damn good to be able to feel his skin underneath your palms. The soft tickle of his breath touching on your skin to let you know Zoro was alive. He was real and whole and he was yours. If only for this moment, because he didn’t push you away. 

A cautious hand reached down to lay claim at your waist and every nerve within your body came alive at his touch. How was it possible to experience something so simple as a touch and it felt this electric? It couldn’t be normal to feel at peace and trapped inside a hurricane all at once, but that was exactly what it felt like standing in Zoro’s presence. 

“Doc, what are you doing here?”

Yes, what were you even doing anymore? You’d come for a reason and it wasn’t just to stand here gawking up at him and-

“Nami.”

“Nami?”

Zoro repeated her name back to you. The confusion only creased his brow further as his eyes scanned over your face. That was all it took for you to release the hold that you had on him. Your feet trying to backpedal away from him, to find safety in the shadows, but you’d forgotten one minor detail. His hand was still rooted to your body and when you moved to step back, Zoro easily followed. 

“Zoro, please.”

Gods, whatever you do, do not cry. If you started, you weren’t sure you would ever stop. 

“Doc, what’s wrong?”

He just didn’t know how to read people. Zoro was too busy trying to gently get you to look back at him. Gently because he wasn’t blind. He no doubt saw every bruise and cut and gods know what else that littered across the expanse of your skin. You weren’t sure why that knowledge made you hate it even more. 

“I know I look terrible.”

You tried again in vain to move away. Zoro refused to budge in his hold and when you tried to look away his hand gently caught your cheek. With the same softness you weren’t aware he even possessed, Zoro tilted your chin up until your eyes finally locked with his. 

“I’ve never seen anyone look more beautiful.” 

It was at this moment you realized you were dangerously close to breaking down. The only thing that kept you from doing it was the wince you earned when you thoughtlessly placed your hand on his chest. 

“Oh gods, Zoro I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. When was the last time you had it properly cleaned? Changed the dressing? Have you been taking the antibiotic I left you?”

This was familiar and safe. The emotions that threatened to capsize you moments before were a thing of the past as you regarded him with a doctor’s keen eye. At the mention of the antibiotic you noticed a shift in his gaze and you immediately knew your answer. 

“Funny you should ask about the antibiotic-“

“Zoro,” you used his name as a warning. 

“I broke the glass it was in.”

Your response to this admission? You smacked him in his shoulder and you could’ve sworn you saw the telltale sign of a smirk. 

“Why the hell would you go and do that?”

“Maybe because the woman who made it for me decided to disappear while I was unconscious.”

“You wouldn’t have been unconscious if you hadn’t fought the world’s strongest swordsman.”

“It’s the world’s greatest swordsman,” he corrected through his teeth. 

“Whatever! Potato tomato!”

You didn’t want to tell him you were already looking at the world’s greatest swordsman, if your opinion mattered at all. But you didn’t want to take away the taste of humble pie Mihawk had bestowed to Zoro with a side of life lesson. 

“Where is Luffy? I need to talk to him about Nami.”

At the mention of her name, Zoro’s mood noticeably soured. You were tempted to smack him a second time, but tried to remember that Nami didn’t make it easy to think she needed help. Especially if she was telling you to fuck off left and right. 

“Luffy went out for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Jesus, woman,” Zoro seethed. 

He literally looked up at the sky as if someone was supposed to answer him or something. You couldn’t stop yourself from mimicking him and asking him after your eyes drifted back down, “You find any answers up there?”

It was a wonder that this was the same man who had, hours before, looked at you like he loved you. 

“Luffy went on a walk. He’ll be back eventually if you want to wait.”

“I don’t have that kind of time, but you’re his first mate! I can just tell you.”

It was brilliant. What wasn’t brilliant? Smacking Zoro in the chest like he wasn’t trying to heal one of the biggest flesh wounds known to man. This time, you not only earned a wince but got a grunting noise that shouldn’t have sounded as sinful as it did. Even hotter was the grumpy look he gave you.

“I’ll pass if it involves you assaulting me every five seconds.”

A tsk passed through your lips as you regarded him. You were willing to bet he’d been wearing the same dressing since you’d left. With no antibiotic or ointments on the wound there was a strong possibility it could fester. 

“How about I pass along the message for you to give him while I clean your wound. I get to give you important information and you get to have a cleaned wound and a fresh bandage.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say no. You reached out and grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards the steps of the hut. It wasn’t until you were up the stairs and pushing the door open that you hadn’t thought about gently knocking on the door or giving words of introduction. You’d just assumed no one was inside and lucky for you it was. Kind of. 

You scanned the house and took notice of the dishes that were stacked next to the sink. The pot and utensils that were laid out to dry the same way a certain Chef you knew liked to do. When you were far enough inside to be comfortable, you released his hand and turned on him, almost colliding with his chest. You had to swallow down a scream of shock. 

“Okay. Start unbuttoning your shirt and I’ll tell you the message to tell Luffy.”

Zoro just stood there like an unmovable statue. You weren’t sure he was going to stay or turn around and leave until his hands slowly moved to the first button. The rough tips of his calloused fingers moved with ease to start undoing the first button on his shirt. Your throat instantly ran dry. Even worse? Zoro didn’t even look down to see if he was in the right spot. His eyes solely locked on your face and you wondered if he could see the growing blush that was beginning to tint your cheeks. 

“This feels vaguely familiar.”

Zoro’s words were tinged with teasing and this time you did catch the slight tilt of his lip as he smirked down at you. 

“What are you talking about?”

You were genuinely confused. Flustered. You were confused and most definitely flustered as Zoro was on to his third button, and gods was it hot in this particular hut or was it just you?

“A couple weeks ago I was at a mansion in Syrup village with my captain. When I went to leave my room this crazy woman was at my door, and dragged me back inside.”

“Wait a minute! Are you calling me crazy-“

“I’m having a strange sense of Deja vu.” 

While Zoro had been retelling the first time you’d met, his fingers had worked their way down to his naval. Zoro was literal seconds away - two buttons left - from exposing his chest to you. It was ridiculous. Truly, that you would be this affected by him and he still technically hadn’t exposed anything. 

You’ve treated dozens of men while back on the island. Some of them had ended up shirtless and one gentleman had even ended with his trousers around his knees while you’d tweezed out porcupine quills from his…well. From an area. This should’ve been like those times. Where you were in control. You were a professional. 

But those other men weren’t Roronoa Zoro, and nothing on this earth could have prepared you for the moment he finished with that last button. 

The shirt draped around him and left a two-inch line of his chest exposed. Under different circumstances it might have shown skin underneath, but currently a stark white bandage was your one saving grace from keeping you from completely losing your mind. A stark white bandage that was noticeably tinged with blood. 

It was all you needed to get your shit together. Yes, Zoro was an attractive man. An infuriating attractive man but he was still a man and he needed ten-

Was it normal for someone to be this muscular? You’d seen Zoro workout a couple times on the ship. Witnessed first hand the way he’d swing around eight-hundred pounds like it was nothing. The endless sets of sit-ups and push-ups he subjected himself too. It made perfect sense he would be nothing but corded hard muscle. 

You needed to push the shirt back further so you could see the extent of the wound and begin to remove the old bandage. To do that, however, it meant you had to touch him. You didn’t care if Zoro knew why you were blowing out a raspberry before your hands moved under the fabric at his shoulders. The minute your hands touched down on the skin you weren’t sure if you were going to remain calm. It became harder when you started to push back the fabric and it exposed his chest to the room. If it wasn’t for the bloody bandage, you might have completely gone off the deep end. 

“Because I am a professional,” you began, your voice lighter than a whisper, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just suggest I was acting like a crazy pervert the first time we met.”

The tick at the corner of his mouth was the only warning you got before a smile erupted on his face. A smile that was directed towards you without restraint. It was meant solely just for you, and if it wasn’t for his hands that secured itself to your waist, it would’ve knocked you on your ass. You wanted to tell him he should smile more often but, on second thought, you weren’t sure you would survive it if he did. 

You wanted to ask how his hands were back on your hips. You were just going to change his bandage. It should’ve been so simple, but how could anything like this be simple when he was looking at you like this? Zoro kept stealing glancing down to your lips. 

“You’re bleeding. You should let me change your bandage.”

You came back. 

Zoro had been meditating on that rock waiting for Luffy. He didn’t know where his captain went after their talk on the roof, but he hadn’t been worried. He was worried about you.

His mind swirled with dozens of possibilities. A game plan for how he was going to bust inside Arlong Park and get you out. How he was going to maim and murder every last fishmen that had ever been stupid enough to touch you. 

And then you came barreling out of the tangerine grove and towards him in a fashion only you could do. It took everything in him not to get up at that moment and run to meet you. It took everything in him not to stop you, mid-rant, and silence you by crashing his lips to yours. 

Zoro was so used to being stoic. The picture of calm and unshakable to his core. All of that changed when you stepped inside his orbit, and he knew he would never be the same because of it. Zoro had to know you would always be a part of him and that meant no more denying. 

The banter between you felt damn good when it happened. It felt natural. As natural as training or having the Wado beside him everywhere he went. Zoro needed you the same way. Beside him, with the knowledge you’d be waiting for him back on the Merry when he left.

So, Zoro wasn’t sure what sparked this. It was an everyday thing. You weren’t dressed any differently - or any different than the crazy top he knew Nami was responsible for. You weren’t acting any different. You were your normal self but something inside him stirred. A storm of wants and needs was clouding his judgment and rolled through his thoughts like thunderclouds. 

“You’re bleeding. You should let me change your bandage.”

He wasn’t thinking. 

Zoro could only feel the drive to consume you in every fiber of his being until it controlled him. The flames of that consuming drive only rose higher when your hands delved under his shirt - touched his skin. 

The need. 

It’s all he felt. All he could think about. 

You were self-conscious of the way you looked, but Zoro had meant it when he told you, you were beautiful. The bruises and the cuts would fade and under all that you would remain. Zoro wasn’t worried about the physical. He worried more about what was underneath the surface, and he would make you see - know - that it changed nothing for him. Zoro would remain here with you for as long as you would have him. 

The best way to do this? A kiss.

Zoro had made his mind up the minute he’d woken up without you beside him. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. 

His eyes scanned your face as his hand snaked behind your neck to lift you up just enough that when his lips pressed down onto yours it was soft. Chaste. 

It was everything he didn’t want to be. 

Zoro hadn’t kissed many women. They weren’t really ever in his plans and while, yeah he had his urges, he learned to dull it out with the booze. Easier to dull it out when some of the kisses he received were from sloppy drunk women in the booths at bars. It became increasingly apparent that wasn’t the case when it came to you. Zoro found himself having to drink more just to dull simple urges like the one he was doing now.

Zoro didn’t want to dull it out. He didn’t want to fight it anymore. He would make space for you in his dreams, because you’d become a part of that too. 

He pressed his lips against yours again, and this time added more pressure. Your hand moved to mimic his hand that he’d placed on your neck, except you didn’t stop there. Your fingers delved into his hair and Zoro could feel every nerve erupt at your touch. His grip on your neck and hip tightened and brought you flush against him. 

He couldn’t hold back with chaste pecks any longer. He needed to kiss you - really kiss you - before he went mad. His tongue traced the edge of your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you submitted to him with ease. 

With every small sound you made as his tongue delved between your lips, tasted you, and explored you a response of his own was brewing in his chest. One that was more animalistic than man: a sound that threatened to break every last reserve he had. 

You’d wrapped your arms around his shoulders and used them to pull him closer. A hand lost itself in your hair and when your fingers lightly tugged at the small hair at the base of his scalp, a growl vibrated against your lips causing his fingers to fist your hair. 

He hadn’t meant it. It was a reflex he couldn’t control and yet…

You tore your mouth away and he expected a scream; to be chastised for the randomness of the pain. Instead, he watched as a moan came strangled between heavy breaths filtered through the space. He didn’t give you a second to catch a breath before he secured a hand behind your neck and brought your lips crashing back down on his. His mouth devoured yours with a dangerous hunger that possessed him. 

Zoro wondered what pretty noises you would make for him if he’d place his hand just right on your neck. If you would like that too as he squeezed and pulled as he pushed and stretched you open just for him. What his name would sound like dripping with pleas and panting while his hips pushed up into you. What pretty noises could you make for him then? It didn’t take Zoro long before he realized he was desperate to find out. 

“I’m still sad I missed dinner, but at least I get a show.”

Everything came to a halt at the sound of an all too familiar voice. While Zoro was willing to bet you were rosy cheeks and embarrassment, he felt murderous. The minute his mouth parted from yours his head whipped around Nojiko’s hut looking for the clown in question. It wasn’t hard to spot his smug face in the corner of the room sitting on top of a barrel.

How they’d missed him when they first came in…

“It’s so great to see you again, Doc,” Buggy beamed. “Although, I’m sure I didn't miss you as much as our big strong not-so-silent swordsman here.”

Zoro had turned to face Buggy, but you’d stayed behind him. Your forehead buried into his back as you let out a groaned, “Kill me now.”

Buggy’s annoying laughter filled the small space, and all Zoro wanted to do was kick him into oblivion. 

Stupid fucking clown. 

After the beyond embarrassing moment you’d shared with Zoro inside the hut, you’d moved outside to finish cleaning and rebandaging his wound. You’d done so without any further touching. While you wanted nothing more than to allow Zoro to grab and kiss you like he had, you could still hear Buggy inside making kissy noises. 

You weren’t sure if the embarrassment would ever go away. Zoro on the other hand looked ready to murder him. 

While you rebandaged him, you’d shared what you could about Nami. Where she’d asked everyone to meet later in the night once everything was done. It wasn’t until it was time for you to leave that Zoro grabbed your arm to pull you close to him. 

“I can’t let you leave.”

Underneath all that murderous rage he was dealing with you could see the same thing you’d seen earlier that day. Fear. It must have been a wild new emotion for him, because Zoro was one of the most fearless people you ever met. You didn’t know if you should’ve found it flattering or worrisome he was scared to let you go. 

“It’ll be alright. I’ll be waiting with Nami, and once Luffy gets back you’ll all meet us there.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s cause it’s Nami’s plan.”

“When has anything we’ve ever done gone to plan?”

It was a damn good question. Right now wasn’t the time to dwell on the few that hadn’t completely gone like they were supposed too. You needed him to have a little faith in the plan. 

You allowed him to pull you close by your waist. The immediate feel of him pressed tight against you sent a searing memory of his kiss, his hand tightening in your hair, and the gasp he’d coaxed from you. Gods, you wanted to kiss him again, and by the look Zoro kept giving you, you knew he did too. 

Now wasn’t the time for this. Nami was possibly waiting for you, and you didn’t want her to think you’d bailed. That the rest of your crew wasn’t coming to back her up. Gently, you placed a hand against Zoro’s chest before you looked up at him. 

“Things always work out in the end. Nami is waiting for me - for us - to be there for her. She’s been alone in this battle for too long, but she doesn’t have to be anymore.”

Zoro seemed to swallow down whatever argument he was trying to make. His obsidian eyes taking in your face, weighing his next words before a heavy sigh escaped him. 

“I don’t like this.”

“You’ve mentioned this before. And the time before that-“

“I’m being serious,” he’d used your name. Zoro hardly ever used your name. “How can you ask me to let you go back?”

“Because I need you to trust this isn’t the last time you’ll see me, Zoro.”

The both of you were trapped in a place of unknowing. He wasn’t sure what letting you go for the second time would mean and you, well, realistically you didn’t know what would be waiting for you when you got there. You just had to believe that everything was going to be okay. That all of this wasn’t going to be for nothing. 

Without giving it another thought, you moved up on your tip toes to gently press your lips against his cheek. The kiss causing his hand on your waist to tighten to try and pull you closer, but you fought against it. Your own feet begin to move away from him to start heading back through the tangerine grove. 

“I will save you. I promise and, when I do, you’re going to promise to never leave my side again.”

If darkness could be housed inside a person, you knew it would be in the form of Roronoa Zoro. As you back away, it was easy to see what all the pirates he hunted saw. His presence was menacing - a walking omen of someone’s impending demise. He was pure power embodied. Not even the night herself was willing to touch him. The edges of her darkness that played across his silhouette only outlined him further. Zoro radiated what hell itself feared and yet, he softened just for you. 

Zoro told you that you weren’t leaving his side once this was over. A part of you wanted to fight him on it; to crawl under his skin and make him bristle as you teased him. You knew, however, you’d gladly stand by his side through hell and back if that meant you were with him. 

You looked at him one last time - wanting to commit how he looked to memory - before you turned and started doing your least favorite activity. You didn’t have the luxury of taking your time. There was no telling how much time passed while you’d been tending to Zoro’s wound. You thought you were being productive while trying to explain as much as you could to him on what he needed to relay to Luffy. You were willing to bet that Zoro stopped listening halfway through your explanation. You were also willing to double down on that bet that instead of telling Luffy your much winded version, Zoro was going to condense it down to all of one sentence. If you were lucky he even did that.

Either way, you knew that Luffy would be there. You knew they would all be there to save you both. You were hyperfocused on the possible outcomes that you hadn’t heard it until it was too late. You weren’t sure it would’ve made a difference if you’d heard the footsteps before the impact. One minute, you were almost coming to the clearing at the end of the trees, and the next the air was being knocked from your lungs.

A body shot out from the dark to collide with yours. The two of you rolling around on the forest floor until you came to a stop. A forearm was pressed down against your throat. You wanted to try and buck whoever was straddling you off you, but their weight told you it would’ve been impossible. Besides, while you were trying to catch your breath, the presence of the arm pressing down on your trachea was making it worse. Your hands reached up to claw your nails down their skin in an attempt to get them to let go, just so you could catch your breath, when you felt the scales of a fishmen.

As the realization set in from the corner of your eye you watched Arlong walk from the shadows. A sickly grin already spread wide to show the rows of razor sharp teeth that only his kind could have. 

“Where do you think you are coming from?”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear Zoro and his pessimistic tone warning you about plans. They never seemed to go the way you wanted. You couldn't explain why this time you’d thought it would end differently. It had too, right? So much had gone wrong last week. It only seemed fair.  

The world didn’t play in what was fair and just. 

Chew released his forearm that he’d pressed to your throat. Instantly, your body let out a violent cough that was made worse when he grabbed you by your shirt and hauled you to your feet. You’d barely got a solid breath in before Arlong launched his fist once, twice, into your stomach. You would’ve dropped to your knees if Chew wasn’t keeping you standing. Your arms pinned behind your back to leave your middle open and ready for the next assault Arlong unleashed. 

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and Chew picked you up to follow him. You knew where you were going. Arlong Park was only a couple more meters ahead of you. If you had the strength to dig your feet in, to try and escape, you would have. The foreboding feeling that wrecked your nerves told you there was a chance if you went in you weren’t coming back out. 

Arlong pushed inside the gates and hundreds of his crew were pressed into every inch of the park. They all looked at you with disgust. Some of them spitting like before in your direction as Chew pushed you forward; obediently following Arlong like a good human should. It wasn’t until he’d reached his self-made throne that he took to the stage like a zealot on a soapbox. His gaze roamed out to all the crew that had assembled. The entire thing felt ominous and reminded you of cults and the sacrifices they made under torchlight. It wasn’t hard to know who that sacrifice was. 

“My brothers! We have a traitor in our midst!”

 Please don’t say it’s me, please-

“This human has infiltrated our ranks. Promising a cure for a disease her people gave us. She rewards our kindness by also turning sister Nami against us.”

“What-“

A panic flared through you at the mention of her name. Where was Nami? The fire of panic was quickly doused, however, as Arlong swung back to silence you with the back of his hand. Blood rushed inside your mouth and spilled itself past your lips to drip on the wood below. 

“Silence! You think you can turn Nami against us? Against me?” 

With each word he spoke you could see the fury that this supposed betrayal was doing to him. He was a fishman possessed with rage, and that rage came lunging forward and sinking its teeth into your left shoulder. This time you did have enough air to scream, and scream as he wiggled like a dog trying to pry meat off the bone. You couldn’t fight him off. Chew held your arms trapped behind your back. You couldn’t move back with Arlong’s hands on your arms keeping you in place. All you could do was scream and feel the tear of your flesh and muscle until he let go. 

They both released you allowing you to drop to your knees in a sobbing mess. 

“You think I wouldn’t know what you were up to? This is my island. Everyone and everything on it belongs to me. You think you can save a couple of lousy villagers and I wouldn’t know?”

Nami warned you. She’d told you time and again that it hadn’t been a good idea. You’d thought she was just being ridiculous. You didn’t know how Arlong had found out, but at this point it didn’t matter. The damage was done and your punishment for that betrayal was well into effect. 

His face was decorated in your blood as he spit down at you. His gaze and arms wide as he took in his devoted followers that waited for his next commands. 

“We all know the truth of this world. Fishmen are the rightful rulers of the seas. And the humans know it too. They fear our power, so they bound us with chains. They loathe our presence, so they banned us from their cities.” 

Arlong walked the stage with the presence of a false prophet. He brought up the past and weaved the narrative of those errors, those transgressions, with each false fact. He played on their fear of being enslaved again to drive their fear into something vile and twisted. Something that burned with its own prejudice and demanded penance be paid for with blood and pain. 

“But we broke those chains, huh? Built our own cities. Now the time has come to restore the natural order of this world.”

In unison, all the fishmen shouted. How could they not see that remaking the world with more hate was never the answer? Arlong touched a few of his crew as he circled back to join you on his stage. 

“For centuries, humans have used us, kept us down. And our so-called leaders, they allowed it. Banners of unity and peace they so lovingly wave are, in truth, flags of surrender, willing defeat. I don’t know about you, but I ain’t surrendering.”

“Kill them all!”

Kill who- “No.”

You don’t know why it didn’t hit you until now. The torches they carried. The guns and swords at the ready in some of their hands. They were going out to attack Coco village - to kill the people that resided inside. 

Chew rushed forward and kicked you. His boot collided with your jaw and sent your body crumbling to the floor. 

“We are the embodiment of fishman superiority! And with the Grand Line map, we will reclaim our birthright. Our righteous rage will burn through Coco Village, to the ends of the East Blue, and as we move to the Grand Line and beyond, we will teach each and every human their rightful place, beneath us!”

To drive his point home, Arlong walked over to your fallen figure and placed his foot on your back. He pressed down violently causing you to scream again as he placed more of his weight against your spine. 

“Beneath us!”

“Yeah!”

“Beneath us!”

They shouted. They chanted until a chorus of their hatred rang out across the trees. You wondered if the villagers could hear the sound of their impending doom. If any of them would make it out alive. When he was finished, Arlong removed his foot from you and waited for Kuroobi to join him on the stage. 

“Go and destroy the village. Murder anyone you see. And Kuroobi - bring me back the human child she gave the medicine to.”

An icy shot of dread jolted down your spine. All the abuse they’d given you erased itself from memory as you struggled to get to your feet. Not Nazifa. 

“No! Don’t you touch her!”

Arlong rushed over to strike you and sent you flying back. The taste of chopper rushed fresh into your mouth even before your body landed against a pillar.

“Nami will pay for her treachery, and so will you. I’ll teach you both a thing or two about loyalty.” With a nod of his head, two fishmen rushed forward to grab a hold of you and lifted you up to your feet. “First, let’s get you ready for our little friend’s arrival. She should have you welcome her with arms wide open.”

Arlong’s rotten laughter putrefied the space. His arms open and mocking as you feel the first cold press of the chains being wrapped around your wrists. 

As always, thank you so much for reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated.

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 9

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader

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

Words: 22.8k

A/N:  Man. This chapter has been a long time coming. It feels bittersweet to be posting it. While I know it is not truly the end of Zoro and Doc’s story (there are still chapter 10 & 11 to write and a one-shot. Not to mention season 2) it still feels like this has some finality to it. It was unexpected how much I grew to love OPLA even more through writing these characters and introducing Doc. This chapter is incredibly dark at times, so please be warned, but I promise chapter 10 is the tiddy chapter and will not be so heavy. And as always: Thank You. To every single one of you who continues to wait. Who loves this story and these characters as much as I do. For always being so kind and loving my story the way you all do. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. Here’s to many more adventures together 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Warnings: mentions of torture, intense violence, blood, use of OPLA dialogue, swearing 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Previous

He felt sick. 

The sickness festered and rotted under his skin until it threatened to take hold of him and send him in a blind rage searching for any trace of you. Every minute Zoro knew you weren’t next to him meant you were somewhere you shouldn’t be - somewhere you never should have been. 

He’d been outside meditating in the spot you’d found him in when you’d first come thrashing through the tangerine grove. This time, at the sound of feet slamming frantically into the dirt, it wasn’t you who Luffy found on their knees crying out with hatred. Screaming the name of a fishman who’d held you captive, tried to break your spirit, and failed. 

It was bad enough imagining the things he’d done to you. Seeing what Arlong had done. After you shared what you’d learned from Nami…Zoro wanted to gut the fucking fish himself. His hands shook with the desire to cut him from throat to navel. To claim his bounty in pieces. 

If Nami was here that meant she couldn’t be meeting you. It meant the information you’d told him as you’d cleaned his stitches and put on a clean dressing was pointless. 

Fucking pointless. 

Nami was here and you weren’t, which meant you could only be in one other place.

The muffled sound of voices rose up in a chorus around the table. The high pitch that signified Nami had resumed talking; her octave rising higher to signify she thought no one was listening. It would be true for him. Ever since his eyes caught sight of the explosion of flames that licked up towards the night a weightless panic gripped him. 

For the first time in his life, Zoro knew what it meant to be infected with the sickness of fear. He’d witness it drain the color from the faces of the pirates he hunted. The way it flashed across their eyes the same way the cool steel of his swords drew across their vision. 

Fear was a concept Zoro wasn’t accustomed to. Even when he lost repeatedly in the dojo to Kuina, it wasn’t fear that drove him, but anger. Determination to prove himself. 

“You really don’t fear death, do you?”

“No. I just don’t fear you.”

Zoro didn’t fear death or, at least, he hadn’t before. It wasn’t until he saw you standing at the edge of the ramp to the Merry that he felt uncertainty creep in his chest. Zoro didn’t fear death, but he feared not knowing what living with you by his side felt like; wrapped up in every moment. Laying on that dock, he’d been overcome with emotions. Zoro had failed not only for himself but also for Kuina. The knowledge of that failure sparked a determination so vicious to do better -be better - that he needed Luffy to hear the vow that he wouldn’t fail. 

Not again. Not ever. 

Silently, Zoro made another promise. He wouldn’t fail again - couldn’t fail again. Not when he could lose you, because the last memory Zoro held of you before his vision was swept up into darkness was your collapsed body on the dock. The fire in your eyes that he loves so much was replaced with something broken. Something he gave you. 

Zoro didn’t know fear until the day he went to sleep without ever knowing if he’d wake up to see you again. He didn’t know fear until he woke up to find you were gone from the Merry, and Zoro didn’t know that paralyzing type of fear until he watched you disappear behind a grove of tangerines. 

His body was sick with fear and the only way Zoro knew how to combat it was to turn it into unrestrained violence. 

His muscles - his very heart - filled with a tumultuous rage that felt like a borderline sickness. Zoro’s hand was clenched tightly around the Wado Ichimonji in hopes it would keep him grounded. That it would somehow be enough to keep him from running out of Nojiko’s front door to Coco Village and getting his hands on the first fishman he could find. 

A fishman’s skin was known to be tougher than bullets. Zoro was tougher than lead and stronger than a trigger releasing on a gun. He’d honed his body - hell his teeth - to withstand hundreds of pounds and keep the Wado held tightly in his jaws. 

The skin of a fishman didn’t stand a chance against the wrath of a demon.  

The sounds of an active slaughter rose up around them. The screams from the villagers were deafening, but all Zoro could hear was the turbulent thoughts that thrashed around in his head. 

He should’ve forced you to stay. He should’ve grabbed you and thrown you over his shoulder and taken you back to the Merry or tied you up to wait inside the hut. He should’ve tried to coax you into staying with his mouth reclaiming yours to remind you who you belonged to. 

The world was made up of so many should haves and yet, in the end, none of them mattered. In the end, Zoro was back inside Nojiko’s hut, his hands splayed out against the table they’d just had their dinner served on, while Nami drew out a plan. 

Zoro was fucking sick of plans.

He wasn’t aware that he’d grabbed the Wado Ichimonji off the table. He didn’t know he was moving towards the entrance of Nojiko’s home until he felt a light hand on his shoulder to stop him. Zoro didn’t need to look to know whose hand was stopping him - keeping him from moving forward. His body did it on reflex, as his jaw ground his teeth so tightly together, he was sure they were going to crack.  

Zoro wasn’t surprised to find Luffy there. His own eyes darkened with fury, but it wasn’t real. Not like the brimstone that gnashed its hellish teeth from the rage that broiled under his skin. It grew until the flames consumed him as they rose up higher inside him. Zoro could see under all that stoic optimism Luffy fought to keep that he was terrified of what they would find. 

“It’s almost dawn,” Luffy’s words were laced with caution. The kind used to defuse bombs or attempt to neutralize wild animals just before they attacked. “The minute the sun breaches over that sky, I swear to you, we will go get her.”

Zoro knew Luffy meant it and, in this moment, Zoro never appreciated Luffy more. Luffy could see that he was drowning - struggling to stay sane - and he tried to give Zoro a raft of hope to grasp. 

The only thing that would make him feel better was your body tucked safely against his. 

While he may have been filled with trepidation, Luffy wasn’t going to let it stop him from pressing forward. You were a part of his crew. Luffy wouldn’t abandon you, but Zoro knew the longer that you were left alone inside that compound the chances of them finding you alive, and not a body, was narrowing down closer to zero than he’d like to think about. 

“She doesn’t have that long.”

He hated how his voice broke at the end. What he hated more? All that unadulterated rage that was brewing inside him was leaking out. It made his body shake and eyes blur and he knew that if he walked into Arlong Park and found you more bruised, more…more broken than when you left him - not even the gods themselves would survive. 

“Arlong won’t kill her,” Nami spoke up. Her voice was a whisper that carried like a scream in the quiet of the hut. “She’s meant to be a warning…and a punishment.” 

“A punishment for who?”

“For me.”

Zoro knew his gaze wasn’t the friendliest. He knew that looking at Nami - all that hatred he felt for the fishmen was displayed on his face and directed solely at her. She didn’t waiver from his gaze, but accepted it, and Zoro wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. He got his answer when those two words collided in his chest and tore through. 

Nami was broken. 

She blamed herself for the predicament you were in. While Zoro wanted to agree and to let all the fury out on her but, realistically, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Luffy’s or anyone’s. You came here to save Luffy - to save Nami - in your own way. 

Maybe it was his fault. Only a few hours ago you’d been here with him inside Nojiko’s hut. His body stood in the exact place he’d finally silenced all his doubts, every racing thought, by chasing the calm of your lips. 

He could still feel your touch on his chest like a vengeful ghost. Your eyes staring up at him and lost to the current of your own thoughts. It reminded him of his own and all it took was for one moment - one second - to decide to place his lips against yours for everything to make sense. 

All the thoughts, dreams, and promises had all been stripped away. The only thing left in that moment was him and you and the feeling of calm that washed over him. A new wave he’d never experienced rolled through him and it was one he’d only heard of. Never did he dream he would experience it - want to - and yet he knew what it was once the calmness ceased and a fire burned hot in his belly. 

Passion. 

He’d heard how it consumed men and women and made them slaves to their most carnal desires. It slithered inside until it constricted all reason until the only thing left was to answer. There was no more denying that you were his desire. The consuming flame that slithered and constricted his veins until the only call he heard - the only one he wanted to answer - was you. 

The minute he’d claimed your lips as his, Zoro knew he wanted nothing else - no one else - for the rest of his life. You were just as much a part of his purpose as his life-long dream to be the greatest swordsman who ever lived. 

How could it be that he’d experienced his first real kiss only for the possibility of it being his last? Zoro would be damned if that would happen. He should’ve kissed you again. He should’ve thrown that fucking clown outside and resumed where he’d interrupted but this time picking you up to seat you on the table. Zoro wanted to feel your legs wrapped around him, pulling him in closer, while his hand worked its way back into your hair and your hip.

Maybe if he’d done that, you’d be inside the hut. You’d be here after Luffy found Nami colliding into the dirt. 

“He’s not hurting her, is he?”

Zoro’s gaze flew to look in the corner where Usopp had taken up residence. His arms rested on his legs as he stared down into the floorboards. It’s where he’d shut down and refused to look up from the hole his eyes were digging into the floor. No one was willing to comment on the silent tears that dotted the old wood. 

“That can’t be a serious question, mate.”

Even though the waiter’s tone was gentle it wasn’t hard to miss the disbelief.

“And what if it is?” Usopp challenged. “We all saw how she looked the last time we saw her and now she’s back there. Alone. It isn’t too much to hope that they’re just holding here there. Maybe tied up somewhere-“

“That isn’t how Arlong does things,” Nami cut in.

“You don’t know that!”

“Oh, I don’t?” Nami shot back. Her body now removed and standing from where she’d been sitting. “I know Arlong better than any of you. I know exactly what he is capable of, and I can promise you he doesn’t do simple.”

“Then why aren’t we going now?” Usopp practically shouted, his eyes wide with bewilderment. 

“That’s what I’ve been wondering this whole time,” Zoro mumbled. 

“I’ve told you both already, it is too risky for the villagers. All it takes is for one of his men to get back to him that we interrupted them, and they are all as good as dead. And so is she.” 

Zoro’s hand flexed around the Wado as the last of Nami’s words sunk in. The silence hung heavy and draped the room once more with the unmistakable feeling of dread. The unknown in these next final hours was too much to bear. 

“I think it’s a risk we have to take.”

“Usopp,” Nami started with a groan. 

Her arms dropped from where she’d held them crossed against her chest.

“No!” 

Zoro never heard Usopp shout. At least, not when it wasn’t out of fear but this…was raw emotion. It’d launched him out of his corner and back into the room completing the small circle of bodies. No longer did he try to hide the tears he’d shed or the desperation in his voice. 

“Doc is my best friend-“

“She’s our friend too, Usopp,” Luffy attempted to defuse him, but it only seemed to make it worse.

“No. You’ve known her for a few weeks. I’ve known her all my life. She was there for me while my mom was sick - helped Naan care for her. Doc looked after me when she passed and didn’t make me feel bad for ringing that stupid bell every damn day expecting my dad to come back.” Zoro looked away when fresh tears broke free. “Doc has been through enough shit since she was little. I should be there to protect her right now.”

The words were barely audible as they began to break and as his words broke, so did Usopp. A hand ran across his face to either mask a sob or cleanse him of whatever guilt that gripped him. 

“It was a mistake to have her come. When we get her back, we should take her back to Syrup village.”

“No.”

That one word fell like a stone inside a well. It directed all eyes back to him, but Zoro didn’t care. A fresh wave of rage hit him at the idea of sending you back to your village because it was safe. You were safer with him than alone in some village. 

“You don’t get to decide that. Especially you,” came Usopp’s curt reply. 

“Last time I checked you don’t get to decide that for her, either.”

Zoro didn’t think the waiter should have an overall say in this either, but he knew Sanji wasn’t wrong. It was ultimately Doc’s decision on if you stayed or went back to the village. If you wanted to stay with him. 

“You guys know nothing about her and suddenly you’re acting like she’s a vital part of the crew!”

“She is a vital part of this crew,” Luffy snapped. He regarded Usopp with a softness that hardened as he spoke. “Doc has dreams of her own. Dreams that outgrew Syrup village a long time ago. Our crew - my crew - wouldn’t be complete without her. She’s family.”

“We are her family, Usopp,” Nami began, “and she’s proven that she believes that too. I may not have had her my whole life, but Doc is the best friend I never thought I’d get to have. You aren’t the only one hurting.”

If any of them turned to look in his direction, Zoro was going to bolt. The last time he’d had a drink felt like ages ago back on the Going Merry, which meant he wasn’t drunk enough to be having this heart-to-heart with everyone. 

“Right. I’ll be outside.”

“Zoro-“

He was tempted to keep walking and pretend he hadn’t heard her say his name. It was the best plan to keep his sanity. So, when he turned around to look at her he breathed a quiet, ”fuck,” into the air. 

The minute Zoro locked eyes with Nami he already knew without her speaking what she was silently pleading with him not to do. She was terrified he would go off on his own to find you. He knew the score and knew from talking to Nami that it wasn’t just your life at stake. An entire village that had been terrorized for a decade was threatened with the possibility of death if they fucked this up. 

Zoro was a lot of things but heartless wasn’t one of them. 

His jaw ticked as he considered telling her she didn’t have to worry. He would be right outside waiting - watching - for the first signs of dawn to peak across the sky. Instead, he gave her a small nod of understanding before he turned to finish his descent out of the hut and to the safety of outside. 

While he did want to go rushing to your rescue, Zoro knew if you found out villagers died because of his actions, because he wanted to save you, you would never forgive him. So, Zoro would meditate and wait for the break of dawn to crest over the trees before he allowed the drums of war to march him forward. 

The sound of the screams from the village was something you knew would forever carve itself into your memory. Every rising shout, a cry for mercy, would haunt the halls of your mind like an old house. Every creak, groan, and slam promised to remind you of this very moment. The fury behind every agonizing wail of someone losing their home, a loved one - a child - of watching their lives go up in blood and smoke hammered curses so deafening you thought your eardrums might shatter. 

You imagined if they could see you tied up and paying your penance, you were sure the villagers would spit on you the same way they did Nami. Nami, who only wanted to help the only way she knew how. 

And you. 

If they could curse you, you knew they would. Fear did that to people. Just like the villagers in your own village viewed you. 

Syrup Village had never been your home. The only reason you’d considered it a place to think of that way was only because Naan was there. And Usopp. You’d known for years that none of the villagers trusted you. You could still hear the first trace of whispers, the judgemental eyes as your tiny hand grasped onto Naan’s tighter. Afraid the current of their hatred would flush you back down into the very sea they claimed you belonged.  

The way Mr. Cawes left Naan’s order of fresh baked bread and flour outside the store. Linens from Miss Sotaw’s shop was placed in a basket in the alley by her back door. Every time they knew it was you who came to gather Naan’s goods, you were never allowed inside. 

A bad omen. A Filthy curse. 

“You did this to us!” 

“I knew you were a blight - a stain that should’ve been removed.”

“You came and ruined us! Now we’re all dead. Dead! DEAD!”

“Murderer!”

“Doom bringer,” the tiny voice inside your head called you.

Those same people who treated you like a plague in their existence were the same ones who showed up begging for your help. Who came in the middle of the night pleading for you to follow them home. 

“Please my wife- “

“My children- “

“My grandfather hasn’t been able to eat.”

Each time they came to the small hut at the edge of town placed on the cliff by the ocean, buried behind the trees, you expected kindness. That you would walk into town and not find harsh glances and turned backs in greeting. You’d thought after everything you’d at least get acceptance. You helped them and they repaid you by treating you the same. 

And yet, you still helped. Believing if you did enough - were enough - they would finally see you the way Naan always claimed she saw you. 

“We can’t allow the ugly in others to diminish the good in us.”

Good. That’s what Naan called it. Goodness of the soul. The character of a person. She so firmly believed your soul was good…but even you noticed on days when you told her about the voices - shared in your imaginary friends - the cold dread that rid her face of warmth. 

No matter how much you wanted to believe her, you knew there was something about you that was different. Whatever it was, you knew it caused problems and those problems, like now, what happened in Coco Village, were all your fault. 

Because it was your fault, wasn’t it? If only you listened to Nami when she’d warned you. If only you’d listened to Zoro when he didn’t feel right and told you going back wasn’t safe. You barreled forward, not questioning why they gave that warning. You were too focused on finding normalcy in helping to take a step back. Now, the only reward you received for your kindness - your stubbornness- was pain. 

Pain for yourself. Pain, you brought down on others. 

The deafening echoes of black powder being released in explosions of sparks and deadly quicksilver jerked you out of your thoughts. You wondered how many of those bullets found homes inside fleeing backs. 

Arlong had his men string you up facing the entrance into Arlong Park just a few feet in front of Arlong’s makeshift throne. The tips of your boots barely reached the wooden walkway underneath you to try and keep your arms from completely tearing at the muscles. Your view of the pool and carnival games felt ridiculous now; a matching gross joke to match the body of the clown they’d pinned up with knives inside the milk toss game. 

Arlong was slowly creating a carnival of bodies. 

You were meant to be a sickening ornament to his crew when they returned from destroying Coco Village and any unsuspecting visitors who might try and show up. And one you were dreading to see. You were a reminder of the fishmen superiority Arlong so boldly claimed. One that proved humans were the weaker species, and showed just how beneath them you truly were. 

The first few hours the pull of the metal chain cutting into the skin of your wrists was unbearable. You’d tried to remain stoic, because you refused to give Arlong the satisfaction of seeing you whimper and cower. You didn’t want him to take what ounce of fight was left inside you, but slowly as the hours passed, and the cries from the villagers rose higher with the flames, you felt the first crack begin. 

Your fingers attempted to curl into your palms, but you were swiftly reminded of the pinching steel that engraved itself violently into your wrists. For the hundredth time, you tried pulling your arms back in towards your sides and believed that you would magically have the strength to rip the pillars apart like the Greek gods you’d read about in Naan’s old library. She told you that the book, like many others you found over the years, were silly stories not meant to be read. You wanted to ask her why she kept them then.

If you could suddenly have strength like Hercules, you could’ve torn this place apart. The pillars would fold in like torn butterfly wings and once they were gone, the chains that held your arms open and left you exposed would be no more. You’d be free, leaving you to run to the village and do what? 

What could you possibly do to help them? 

You did this. All you wanted was to help. Instead, you’d sent a whole village to its damnation. And what was your penance? All night the tides of your guilt grew higher with each sound of tearing and breaking of homes being ripped apart frame by frame.

Gods, their screams were endless. Their terror was ruthlessly carried on the wind; each breeze making your stomach curl and bile to rise in your throat. You knew there were pleas in those cries. Someone begging for their loved one to be spared only to be met with violence. Horrors that, if it didn’t kill them, would hollow out their souls until the only thing left was a shell. 

You did this to them. 

Nami warned you. Told you countless times that it wasn’t safe, but you didn’t want to listen. You’d been arrogant in thinking you wouldn’t get caught. She’d warned you. 

“People will do anything when they are starving.”

You’d wanted to help Nazifa and her family and now you’d doomed them. You’d doomed the whole damn village because you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to show kindness. To prove you weren't a monster. To hope that they wouldn’t see you the way your own village had. 

Another wail broke through the gunfire and rose up with blackening smoke into the midnight blue of the sky. A canvas of flame licked across that darkness, and you knew they’d finally set the whole village to burn. 

“Do you hear that,” Arlong asked from behind you, your name tinged like the shit end of a bad joke. “All that death and dying? Make sure you get a good listen and mark it to memory: you caused this. You and Nami.” 

“Fuck off,” you seethed, bloody spittle dripping from your bottom lip. 

Your sharp tongue was rewarded with him grabbing the stick he’d started using hours ago and slammed it home against your ribs. The way the pain blossomed into every nerve was immediate. The air in your lungs twisted, trapped inside, until it released in a scream of your own. The expansion of your diaphragm and the sharp electric burst of agony that came with trying to breath told you Arlong broke something. 

You tried to take shallow breaths. Your mind struggled to work around assessing your own wounds - how many ribs and where the possible break was - over the sound of Arlong’s incoming rant. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me that way.”

“Don’t like the tone of my voice?” Your question was loaded. The both of you knew it. “Stop talking to me like I give a shit.”

You knew the next hit was coming. It was obvious in the way his hand tightened and released on the wood. The way his eyes exploded with a spark of sheer hatred. The smirk that bared teeth before his body lurched forward. You braced your body for the next blow, but Arlong changed course last minute. The wood slammed into the left side of your face with such force you heard the wood splinter. A piece of the board flew over your head in pieces. It almost felt like you were trying to follow it, the way your neck snapped to your right. 

The blood leaking from between your lips was immediate. It rushed like a river and if you were able to move anything past the shockwave that resonated inside your skull you would’ve looked to see if a tooth was knocked loose. If the day-old cut in your cheek was ripped open to mingle with fresh wounds. 

The blood was immediate and so was the swelling. Already your left eyes and cheek were bruising - swelling to try and stem the tide of any further internal damage Arlong no doubt caused. 

The radius positioned under the thumb. Ulna to the little finger. Eight carpal bones make up the wrist…

Over the last few hours, whenever Arlong, Chew, or your new bodyguard, Murtogh, came into view your mind hardened itself to prepare for what was to come. You’d learned Chew preferred fire and Murtogh liked blades. Chew specifically enjoyed heating up objects and pressing them into the tender flesh that was your stomach. His laughter sent you into sensory overload as your skin sizzled and melted under the heat of the lastest objects - cigars. 

You wish you were stronger. A part of you wished you didn’t cry out or feel your body struggle uselessly against the chains to get away. You wanted to have more rage in your thrashing - threatening to break free and break their bones the way they broke yours. Maim them the way they so lovingly maimed you. The only safety you could find from the torture was going over the bones of the body. The steps to suture wounds. The items necessary to make herbal remedies and antidotes for poisons and illness. 

Grind it down in the mortar to make it more potent. Add lycan moss until it forms a paste…

It didn’t matter if it was to cure fungal infections, gangrene, or headaches. You named off the components inside certain mushrooms and the specifics of what made them deadly. You went back to memorizing the hand bones that lead down back to the wrist. The bones that felt like they were breaking with each tug and pull your body involuntarily made in a useless effort to flee when one of them came grinning towards you. You couldn’t fling yourself back anymore. Not since Murtogh carved into the meat at the back of your caves, just below the knees.

So when Arlong rose up from his makeshift throne and came towards your broken body, now hanging limp and broken, your brain immediately began to say the name of every plant that could be found at Irkhaven. You tried to focus, but soon you found yourself counting the number of steps it took Arlong to reach you before his finned hands grabbed ahold of your hair and pulled your gaze up. It took you a moment to look past the blood that had dripped inside the swollen lids. 

“Ah, can you hear that, Doc?” He used his hand to amplify the sound you couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made his stomach-churning smile ever wider. “The boys are almost here with our newest guest.”

Oh, gods. How could you have forgotten? 

It’d felt like an eternity inside these walls - your personal hell. Your mind shifted somewhere else to keep you from completely breaking, but at his words everything slammed back to reality. 

Nazifa. 

As if remembering her was enough to conjure her, the sound of a screaming child grew closer behind the wall. It was all you needed to renew the struggle to break free. You couldn’t let them harm her; hurt her in any way. Your heart slammed with such force against your ribs your legs gave out from underneath you. The tips of your toes struggling to find ground as the cuts Murtogh had given you expanded every time you attempted to straighten your legs. 

“Let me gooo! Please. Let me go!”

Every choked word that screamed around a sob felt like it held you underwater. Suffocating you in your own growing panic as you thrashed helplessly in your chains. Arlong’s laugh was guttural and made your body grow still as he came up beside you.

“So, there is still a little fight left in you after all.”

“You have me, Arlong. You don’t need the girl. She’s innocent!”

You didn’t care how raw your voice was with desperation. The way unspoken words settled like still water in your lungs - calm, waiting to rush free at the slightest ripple. You were willing to give blood - sell your soul - whatever it would take to keep the devil away from her. 

“Now, where would be the fun in that? Nah, the way I see it-“he moved to stand in front of you. His face the only thing that took up residence in front of you - smiling as Nazifa screamed. “She owes me the same amount of blood as you do.”

All your life you’d heard about hatred that burrowed inside the hearts of every man - every creature - on earth. How the flames their rage stoked rose higher and higher until it consumed villages and the people within. How their hatred was used like righteous fire to burn out the existence of anyone in their way. You’d heard stories about hatred that changed lives. Ruined them. Changed them. Naan had always been so careful with you in keeping those thoughts at bay - fighting them with every fiber of your being. 

“Hatred is a baptism in pain, child. One I pray you never experience. One that changes a good heart to something else. Something deadly - not even love can cure.”

What did Naan know? She never knew the torture you went through with the children in the village. The many ways they reminded you of how unwelcomed the sight of you being alive was to their vision. The way the adults sneered at you: an unholy omen of misfortune dropped on their island built on the fortune of others. There were many times when your own pain could’ve created a seven-layer inferno of hatred all on its own. 

But while the horrors of the world still persisted, so did the goodness that lived inside of you. 

The drive to heal. To save those like yourself. Those who felt unworthy of being saved. For the first time in your life, you felt the rage of your own hatred rise like a phoenix in your chest and did nothing to stop it from consuming you. 

         let us in 

                         we can’t help

 if you deny us 

                   we only 

                                  want to help 

                                                       free us

                                 free yourself

All your life Naan told you not to listen. When the darkness came, she begged you to ignore it. 

“Shove it down. Keep it away. Don’t let it corrupt the good in you.”

But you haven’t seen what I’ve seen, you wanted to tell her. The words of disdain that dipped your tongue with poison and threatened to kill dynasties if your lips ever parted. You haven’t witnessed what these men have done. 

“All hatred is born out of fear.”

You could hear the ghost of a reply in the back of your mind. The same one she’d told you many times when you’d come inside crying as a child. A child’s mind was unable to understand how anyone could put their prejudice on a child. You could practically feel the warmth of her arms enveloping you - inviting - to give the comfort you craved. 

The darkness that crept in quickly pushed back against your attempt to satiate it once more with calmness and warmth. It was done being suppressed, and you were tired of pretending that the darkness inside you wasn’t a part of who you are. 

Arlong must have noticed a change. The way animals sense an impending threat. A predator they weren’t aware of closing in before they could prepare. A small piece of you rejoiced as the uncertainty began to steal the sadistic gleam that had been in his eyes. The brightness dimmed just enough for you to see yourself - bloodied and swollen - inside the obsidian of his eyes. You were met with a reflection of yourself; a mirror that saw the white of your good eye completely consumed with a darkness that bled like spilled black ink on paper. It continued to branch out around your eyes, stopping shy at the tops of your cheeks. 

You didn’t have enough time to think about what you saw. If brain damage was another issue to add to the ever-growing list of things to worry about. The sound of the gates of Arlong Park opening careened your neck to try and look around Arlong’s shoulder. 

Kuroobi held Nazifa tightly by the back of the neck and used it to direct her where he wanted. Her small hands didn’t stop their weak attempt to scratch at him - to cause him some sort of discomfort that would make him release her. Tiny rivers had created shapes in the dirt on face, matching the sobbing pleas that eclipsed her lips in tight shrieks. You thought maybe she’d fallen in mud or Kuroobi had thrown her in some. It wasn’t until she got closer you realized it wasn’t grime that dirtied up her face and streaked her clothes, but ash. 

Nazifa was covered in the destruction of her home. 

Arlong clicked his tongue and Kuroobi and Nazifa’s journey ended at the edge of the pool. A fresh wave of dread clawed itself inside your belly. Sharp and brutal and felt with every breath. Every breath that thundered your racing pulse in your ears. You didn’t need to watch to know what would come next, but your body reacted all the same as Kuroobi’s hand wrapped violently on the nap of Nazifa’s neck and hoisted her over the edge of the pool. 

Her scream housed more than just a simple room of fear. It was built around halls of terror that led to rooms that fueled the nightmares of imagination and ate away at hope. The ‘what if’s’ of unending questions that centered solely on what the last thing she said to her father was, or if she’d die for Arlong’s amusement inside his joyless circus. Nazifa’s voice raised higher and higher until it started to break. The sounds of her tiny feet pounding and sliding against Kuroobi’s solid form as they swung out wildly, as if it would be enough for him to release her. 

It was instinct that craned your neck in her direction. Instinct that brewed a fresh wave of adrenaline that forced you back onto the pads of your knees with your legs struggling to help you stand. The closer Kuroobi brought her to the edge of the pool, the more her scream turned into panicked shrieks. It sent your heart pounding against your chest, wild and raw. 

Let her go! Your mind raged. Your own thoughts turned to the sickening idea they were already hurting her. 

“Leave…leave-her…leave her alone.”

Each word struggled to work its way up your throat - passed bloody and swollen lips. The chains at your wrists bit into your skin as you fought against your chains to see them coming up on your right side. The minute Nazifa’s eyes found you her screams became inconsolable. 

One look at you sent her backpedaling into Kuroobi’s arms, as if she could ask him for safety. You considered it had to be how you looked. Broken. Bloodied with swollen wounds and open cuts. Fresh burns along your back that had married skin to cloth. 

But that wasn’t it. You remembered the way your one good eye blossomed obsidian in the iris of Arlong’s. A simple glance down your arms and to the hands that gripped your chains let you watch as your fingers, and part of your hand, ripen like rotted fruit. The chains sizzled against your skin with smoke noticeably rising from where they touched. Your own scream barreled like a pulled trigger from a musket up from your chest and blasted with violence into the encroaching darkness. The sound steeped in madness that changed to manic laughter. 

This can’t be real. 

Every hushed whisper you’d heard since you were a child. All the looks of hatred that painted over their fear as they looked at you. Every beating and fight that Usopp and you had been in. Every rock you counted as it was thrown - the saltwater that was forced down your throat - all of it no longer seemed warranted, when Naan told you their fear wasn’t. 

“Fear of the unknown makes folks foolish. Blind to the truth in front of them.” 

And what was that truth now? You wanted to scream. What truth was looking at you now as you listened to the rising panic of Nazifa’s screams. The murmurs and uneasy glances of the fishmen looking between them and their leader for answers. 

Leader. Make believe king. Another man who wished to play God.

Your head whipped with a snarl towards the self-proclaimed King of Nothing. His own teeth bared at another predator he didn’t see coming. You wanted to tear Arlong apart. Ask what he’d done to you, but you knew, deep down, this wasn’t the cause of anyone else. This has been inside of you all your life. This darkness. This…madness. The same darkness Naan begged you to discard and ignore all your life; your childish mind thinking she meant hatred. 

But there was more than hatred that boiled beneath your skin, and you’d let it in like a fool. 

The chains were beginning too lax. It would only take one hard pull and, you were positive, they would completely fall. You would be free. Arlong must have realized this possibility too. Underneath all the rage and loathing was something you knew he would refuse to name. Something that grew from the corpse of fear and blossomed into something more devastating: terror. 

The thought of Arlong cowering was enough for a smile to crack through the laughter. The hysterics of it rose around the both of you, sealing him in and forcing him to focus on the madness in the obsidian of your eye as you took the melting metal in your hand and pulled. The snapping of the first chain was enough to bring Arlong out of wherever his thoughts had taken him. 

“Let Nazifa go. Now!”

“Monster!” Arlong snapped, spittle flying from his lips. “You think you can make demands of me?” 

Arlong made a few clicks with his tongue and Kuroobi’s body responded to whatever code he’d given him. You watched in horror over his shoulder as Kuroobi lifted Nazifa back up by her neck and dunked her down inside the pool. 

“Noooooooo!”

The word came from deep in your belly - a scream of your own terror - that rattled your bones. The chains screamed as you found your footing, legs no longer weak, as you tried to push forward. The sound of wood beginning to bend, and crack floated in the background as another scream rolled through you. 

He wasn’t letting her up. Kuroobi wasn’t bringing her back to the surface to get air. To let her breathe. You watched helplessly as her small hands barely broke the surface. The way they struggled to hit at his arm - yanking, swatting - in hopes he would let her go. Let her breathe. 

“Nazifa!”

You screamed her name and took another step. You would pull your arms from your sockets if it meant you could save her. If you could just get to her and hold her up and clear the water that was smothering her lungs and stealing her breath. You took another step forward, but your bare feet slipped in blood that hadn’t yet dried. You weren’t prepared for the loss of traction and found yourself scurrying to try and stay on your feet. You had to keep pushing. Keep moving. It didn’t matter that it felt like you were tearing yourself apart. Those wounds were opening, and you repeatedly kept slamming your knees into the cement as you fell. 

Nothing mattered except saving Nazifa. 

Another scream came from you but this time it came from somewhere deep within. Somewhere fractured and desperate that shook the very core of who you were, and as it rose like a sickening chorus from your lips you swore you felt the very foundation of Arlong Park begin to break with you. 

You weren’t imagining it when the ground waved unevenly under their feet. Under yours. Whatever trance he’d been in was shattered, and it was enough to spring Arlong into action. Quickly, he closed the distance between him and the closest fishman in three large strides. His hand reached out to take the dagger from the fishman’s belt.

You weren’t surprised with what followed after. How fast he returned to stand over you in his one last chance to dominate you before he lost all control. When Arlong made his way back to you - teeth bared and arm thrusting forward - the dagger found a home in your side long before Arlong himself ever reached you. 

You’d treated plenty of cuts and knicks inside the safety of Naan’s home. Burns from stoves and road rash on the arms and backs of farmers whose horses had decided they’d had enough. It was the pirates who came to Naan’s door that carried the more lethal wounds with them. Deep cuts on thighs that required hundreds of stitches. Gangrene in wounds that ended with you having to help hold down the patient as Naan amputated feet, legs, or arms. You’d dug bullets from shoulders and mended broken bones. The few stab wounds you’d helped Naan with rarely ended well. 

You could remember the first time you saw the wounds pressed into the gut of the captain of The Hellbound. The howls of pain that filled the cabin as his hands scrambled to grab ahold of anyone - anything - as his body spasmed in pain. The way the blood flowed in a steady stream onto the basement table. He made such a fuss, you thought he must have been exaggerating. 

You knew now as the blade slid through your skin and into meat and sinew, that captain should’ve screamed louder. 

You watched as Arlong didn’t stop pushing until the blade disappeared completely inside your body. If you could’ve, you were sure he would’ve buried the handle inside with the blade and pushed it through to the other side. The adrenaline in your body kept you from feeling most of it - the shock. It couldn’t keep the blood from filling your throat forcing you to cough it up with strings of it falling to your chin. 

It sliced something important. 

The last thing you wanted to do was show your surprise. To show anything. But after the shock wore off, and the adrenaline and whatever it was that overtook you, the only thing left was the disbelief. 

Your eyes glanced up from his hand to his face and found his smile waiting to greet you. He leaned in as another soft cough brought up more blood and inhaled. 

“Monster,” Arlong whispered in your ear. “I’ll go down in history not only as King of the Pirates, but also as a monster slayer. I’ll preserve your head to decorate the front of my ship.”

Monster. It’s what he’d called you. It was all you could focus on. You couldn’t even be grateful he didn’t remove the dagger. Arlong leaving it in was the best thing he could’ve done for you to prolong your life just a little longer. Long enough for you to try again to save Nazifa. Long enough for you to regain what strength you could to make sure you got the chance.

Somewhere between your attempted escape and Arlong embedding the blade in your gut, Kuroobi took Nazifa out of the pool. He’d set her small body down beside a carnival game where they locked a chain around her ankle. Not that she could move. Not that she could try. She was barely taking small breaths as she vomited up water. 

Another cough. Another fresh taste of chopper against your tongue. 

Monster is what Arlong called you. Freak. Sea Witch. Monster. You’d heard it all your life and, for once, maybe they were right. You were willing to be the monster one last time if it meant you could save Nazifa. You were willing to be the monster one last time if it meant you got to tell him goodbye. 

Dawn arrived. 

Zoro watched as the rays of cherry blossom pink and fire orange chased the last blanket of night away. He thought watching the sunrise seated where he was on the roof would be enough to raise hope in his chest. Instead, apprehension dug into the marrow of his bones until his muscles grew stiff. Until every member of the crew had descended from inside Nojiko’s hut to start the long trek back towards the village. 

Zoro didn’t want to see - to know - what had been done there. It was easier to imagine - to not have to bear witness - to travesties that happened to others. It’s how he liked it. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Zoro could recall a time when it was just him murdering and maiming his way through the East Blue bounties. 

It’d been so simple.  

Garner information on his next kill. Locate said kill. Kill said kill. Retrieve the bounty for the head in the sack and move on to the next. Keep his head down. Keep moving. Be oblivious to the world around him. It had all been so simple. But it hadn’t been living. 

Zoro realized that now as he walked with the small ragtag group Luffy collected. Zoro had been alone for so long, he forgot what looking up - noticing - the world around him was like. What it was like to have friends. To have dreams. To admit to wanting more than a life of solitude and blood. To see the world in an explosion of color and possibilities the minute you’d exploded into his world with a hand on his chest and a boot to his bedroom door. 

With each step closing in to the smoke that still rose from charred homes it felt like he was walking towards a nightmare of his own making. A knowledge that could no longer be ignored. The people here were held violently under the boot of someone who enjoyed having that power over the villagers. A fishman who stripped them of their dignity, their home, and hope. 

Arlong had destroyed countless lives for his enjoyment and as their small group came around the once whole fence into the grove of the village, Zoro realized he would do whatever it took to free these people. 

The huts - no matter how dilapidated they’d been before - that had housed families with their thatched roofs were gone. The violence of the night before was on perfect display in the charred remains of memories of the villagers' homes. He watched as families ran in a flurry of circles trying to find water to douse out what flames were left. Dozens of bodies covered in dried blood that caked itself in long streaks to match the mud and soot that tracked on open skin. A few bodies scattered around the area showcasing what happened to those who tried to fight - who attempted to save their homes. Zoro felt his hand tighten on the Wado Ichimonji as his teeth ground down tight together. 

“Arlong did this? Why?”

Sanji’s voice cut through the panic and, for once, Zoro didn’t find his voice grating. He didn’t have to look at the man to see the disbelief that painted his words. The heartbreak. The rage. He felt it too. 

Usopp dashed from his right to grab a bucket and attempt to help put out whatever fires were left. He did more than the rest of them. They were all too stunned to move. None of that could compare, however, to how Nami was feeling. 

Zoro risked a glance in her direction and immediately looked away. Not that the burned huts were giving him a different source of joy. 

Nami looked broken. Nami looked guilty, as if all of this was specifically her fault. As if Arlong had ever meant to let Nami go - let her village go - when she gave Arlong the money. Arlong was never going to let Nami go free. Maybe you’d realized that before the rest of them. Zoro knew you were smarter than him, at least. Smarter than his anger that blinded him from seeing the truth, especially about Nami. 

Zoro had wanted someone to blame for how you looked when he saw you. He needed someone to break with the fire that boiled his blood and made his vision crest in black. Like a fool he’d chosen Nami. The one person who suffered the most - had been suffering in silence for a long time. 

Until you saw her suffering and wanted to remind her she wasn’t alone. 

Zoro was glad you couldn’t see how defeated Nami looked. The way Nami’s haunted eyes roamed over every last destroyed hut, every lifeless body, and beat herself with one singular thought. 

It’s all my fault. 

“To punish the villagers. And to punish me.”

Usopp was too busy to notice the rush of villagers who were stampeding towards them. His back turned towards them while he put out the last of a fire of what Zoro could only assume used to be a porch. The group was coming up fast and it wasn’t hard to see that Nojiko was leading the pack. 

“What’s going on?”

“Nojiko told us about your sacrifice,” Genzo began. His voice edged with a sad determination as he asked, “We didn’t know. Can you ever forgive us?”

Disbelief coiled on Nami’s face and echoed in her voice as she replied, “There’s nothing to forgive. Coco Village is my home.”

“Then it’s our turn to sacrifice. We're done living in fear. We’re gonna march on Arlong Park. If those fishmen want a fight -“

“That’s not a fight. That’s a massacre! You will all be killed.”

“If there’s no hope for us to buy our freedom, then I say we die trying to fight for it!”

Genzo yelled the last few words to raise up a chorus of voices. All of them in a resounding agreement that they’d rather die than continue to live the same way for another minute. Zoro had to give it to them: it was impressive. Even if it meant they’d be slaughtered in less than a minute. 

“No, everyone, please!”

Nami struggled to calm down the rising mob and their anger. Zoro knew that, while anger could fuel the adrenaline in your veins, it would never be enough to make up for skill. These were farmers. Homemakers. They gave their bodies to the land to help raise it to its full potential. They didn’t spend hours swinging swords until their arms threatened to collapse. Practice in rings with bruises of their failures scattered across their bodies like road maps. While their size was impressive, Zoro looked out amongst the villagers and only saw another empty grave waiting to meet them. 

“No, I…I won’t let you do that.” Finally, the mob grew quiet enough for Nami to finish. “This is my fight.”

“No.” Luffy’s voice carried across the gap between their small group and the villagers. Loud enough they all snapped their heads in his direction. “This is our fight. Right, guys?”

Well, as first mates go…

“Finally, I get to cut something.”

Zoro never meant those words more. Seeing the village - the villagers - the dead and ruined among them didn't spur him into action. It only added to the aching restraint he’d been showing to draw out his blade and nurture the tangerine groves with fishmen blood. 

“But how are we gonna beat Arlong? We saw what he did at Baratie.”

“Every creature has a weakness,” Zoro cut in, but Usopp wasn’t having it. 

“Even bulletproof ones?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” Luffy muttered. 

Zoro sparred a glance in his direction to find his captain deep in thought. He wanted to ask him what, if anything, did he think of before Luffy continued. 

“And when I do, I won’t hesitate.”

It felt good to know that this was happening. That they were finally going to stop chatting and start putting all those useless words to action. Zoro was about ready to turn on his heel and head out, when a man came shouting from behind the mob of villagers. A woman struggled to help hold him under his arms, his own arms noticeably wobbled as he tried to apply weight with his arms to help. 

“Wait, please! My daughter-“

“Oh my god-“

Zoro’s eyes flicked to Nami. The way her eyes glistened with fresh tears. A hand clamped over her mouth while she tried to calm her thoughts about whatever it was, she knew. 

“What is he saying?” Sanji asked. 

“I’m pretty sure he yelled something about his daughter,” Usopp offered, his hands wringing tighter on the strap of his satchel. 

When the man was close enough, he believed he could be heard, and he tried again. Now leaning more on the woman for support as his cane dragged in the dirt. 

“Please, please my daughter, Nazifa, they took her.”

“Arlong took her?” 

“No. One of his men-“

“You’re the father of the little girl,” Nami sobbed. “The one that asked Doc for help.” 

Nami’s words collided into Zoro’s chest and stole the breath from his lungs. This time, it wasn’t his eyes that roamed to where she stood, but his whole body. He wanted to grab her - shake her and ask what she meant. It was strange to go from feeling grounded to free falling in a blink of an eye. 

The man shook his head weakly as another villager came up to wrap his arm around their shoulder. The support helped the woman who began to struggle to hold the man up on her own. 

“Thank you, my friend. Yes. Nazifa, my daughter. She told me she found a doctor. A nice woman who went by the name of-“ 

This man. This father spoke your name and Zoro felt crippled. There was never any doubt left in his mind that you were there - Arlong Park. What none of them had expected was for Arlong to send his men to take an innocent child, as well. But Zoro knew, it wasn’t meant to be a punishment on anyone else but you. 

“Doc,” Usopp whispered. 

His wringing hands stopped as he took a step forward. Usopp’s mouth hung open in worry, as if he wanted to ask a thousand questions, but every single one of them abandoned him. 

“Yes. She said that was a nickname. My daughter asked for her help and Kuroobi came and took her. Please! I am begging you - please bring Nazifa back to us.”

In an instant, it went from a need to rescue you to something bigger. Zoro couldn’t name it, but it landed on his tongue with a warning and scraped down his throat until he swore, he tasted blood. The girl was meant to hurt the village, Zoro knew, but it was also meant to hurt you. If there was one thing Zoro knew for certain, it was that you would sacrifice yourself to save that little girl. He had no doubt that was Arlong’s plan all along. 

Without looking to see if anyone else would follow, Zoro turned on his heel and headed back out of the village. He didn’t care if Luffy or Nami or that waiter was behind him. He was done waiting to save you - to now save a little girl. Zoro was going to save you both and burn Arlong Park to the ground in the process. 

You were in and out of consciousness as night grew into day. One minute you were blinking past a wave of nausea that bloomed into pain. The darkness noticeable in the illuminated light of the torches. The next, you were startled back into consciousness by a shriek from Nazifa. Your eyes blinked around a sunrise as they struggled to focus - to locate her in a mess of bodies.

The fishmen were no longer drinking and laughing. Their party was now abandoned for what looked like packing up items that would be useful on a voyage instead of a home base. Somewhere in the course of the night, the small group Arlong sent out to burn the village had returned. Their laughter and mimics of the villagers screams a joke they roared about all night as they were met with waiting bottles of beer. Some of them came to gawk at you; poke at you and laugh. The shock of the dagger still housed in your side a reality you were reminded of by the growing garnet puddle that was aging with the flakes of brown at the edges. 

Your eyes zoomed in and out of focus. It felt like someone had tied you to a merry-go-round and spun you relentlessly until you weren’t sure if the sky was up or down, left or right. The harder you tried to stay awake the more it seemed your body was ready to greet unconsciousness. You couldn’t allow yourself to sleep. Not when Nazifa screamed for help. For them to stop. 

While your eyes couldn’t focus, your ears seemed able to follow the high-pitched pleas until you located her where Kuroobi had chained her. The body of the clown twitched behind her making her scream anew as a fishman threatened to poke her with the very sharp end of a harpoon. 

“Hey! Fish sticks!” You called almost choking as you coughed. A fresh hint of blood salted your tongue. “Hey!”  

Finally, he looked up and glowered in your direction. 

“What did you call me?” 

You were willing to bet his ancestors descended from a barracuda the way his teeth gnashed. 

“You heard me. Fish. Stick. Pick on someone your own size before you end up on a pirate's menu.” 

It wasn’t the smartest idea you’ve had. Well, to be fair, so far none of your ideas were coming up as real winners. Winners or not, you weren’t going to leave Nazifa to the mercy of some jackass. Even if said jackass possibly came from a long line of razor-sharp flesh-eating fishes. 

His reply came in him throwing the stick up and catching it mid-air to launch in your direction. You tried to prepare yourself for the blow. The impact. You could see it aimed directly for your chest and might go clean through…if he wasn’t apparently cock-eyed. A rush of air signaled the harpoon had whizzed past and landed with a splintering crack into the wood of one of the carnival games. 

If this was a different time where you weren’t helplessly strung up like a turchicken on All Feasts Day, you might have made a joke. For once in your life, you could recognize now was not a good time to wound someone’s pride. Instead, you waited for him to puff up his chest and walk away from Nazifa before you called her over. 

You didn’t think she would come. Her eyes reflected the haunting image of what she had seen - the monster you’d allowed yourself to be. Plus, you were pretty confident you looked about as welcoming as you felt. You considered smiling in her direction, but decided against it when you considered how it might look. 

Try to look friendly and end up looking terrifying. 

“It’s okay. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Again, she didn’t move. She just stared and watched for any signs of…what? For you to change? For the inky blackness to spread around your eyes and coat your fingertips. You didn’t know what else to do to prove to her you were still you. So, you settled on patiently waiting. It wasn’t until another wave of pain rendered you unconscious, that you woke up to find her closer to you, or as close as the chain would allow Nazifa to get. 

Once you knew she was close, you allowed another fit of unconsciousness to overcome you. You hoped if anyone tried to do anything to Nazifa, you would wake up in time to try and do something. Anything to make sure she was safe, because you knew once morning came, Luffy would come for you with Zoro beside him. 

You held onto that thought as the fishmen scurried around you - heavy booted feet louder than usual informed you their arms were bared down with extra weight. They weren’t just packing up a few supplies on the ship to go away for a few weeks. Arlong and his men planned to run, and either they intended to take Nazifa with them or leave her behind. 

Neither option sounded like a winner.

If they did try and take her, what could you do? Realistically, you weren’t in any shape to try and defend yourself, let alone another person. It also wasn’t helping you couldn’t stay conscious for long periods of time or the very real fact you were dying. There was no point in denying it. Not when your body was numb and even the pain wasn’t sharp enough to keep you awake. 

Chew was pacing back and forth. His webbed hand wrapped tightly around a brand-new bottle of whiskey - his liver must be screaming for mercy - as he watched the fishmen continue to shuffle and stack crates. Some packing what preserves were left from the celebratory party from last night in their own crate.

“Let’s pick up the pace! You know Arlong hates to wait.” 

Chew walked by you and waited until you lifted your head, your neck craning to the right, to get a good look at him. He was trying to be intimidating as he raised the lip of the bottom to his lips and took a long sip. Chew tried to convey hunger - either for your guts or something else - and all you felt was a giggle growing in your chest. You waited until Chew was satisfied with his attempt at being scary before you checked on Nazifa to make sure she was still beside you curled up as she watched the fishmen work. 

As soon as you knew Nazifa was still safe - still beside you - you let your chin fall back to your chest when clouds of smoke bombs exploded around you. Each explosion caused a small yelp of terror from Nazifa and you felt one of her hands reach out and grab at your calf. Your wrists strained against the chains. Your fingers desperate to reach out and stroke her hair and whisper that she was okay. It would all be okay. 

A few more stray smoke bombs went off and you found your voice, cracked and tired, still trying to comfort her. 

“Who the hell is this? Who would be stupid enough to attack us?” 

Chew’s rhetorical question was answered when you heard the violent collapse of the gate. The sound of wood and metal cracking apart with a few stray pieces no doubt landing in the unsuspecting flesh of a few fishmen. This was a guess, but the sudden shrieks of pain made it feel like a spot-on assumption. 

Nazifa’s tiny fingers dug in harder into your calf, but you were barely aware of the touch. No one was paying attention to you, and, in their panic, you began to try and pull at the chains that kept your arms extended. It wasn’t until the smoke cleared that you turned your head just enough to watch Luffy, Nami, Usopp, and Sanji enter with Zoro bringing up the rear. 

It was almost comical the way they looked around the compound. The determination that creased their brow and the way it fell apart as one-by-one their eyes fell to Arlong’s cabanas and his makeshift throne. 

You were on full display in the middle for them to see. Just the way Arlong had planned for you to be.

“Nooooo!”

Not like this. Don’t see me like this.

It felt silly. It should be ridiculous that this was your one thought. Your one worry. Not the dagger violently embedded into your side like an unholy symbol of strength begging to be removed. Or the very, very real fact you knew you were slowly dying. 

No. You didn’t want their - your friends, your family’s - lasting memory of you to be arms spread violently wide, the fight in your body long gone, and covered in blood and gore. 

You could only imagine what you must have looked like. What it was exactly that they were all seeing. Your imagination wouldn’t do justice to the horrors that Arlong and his men had inflicted on you. And yet, the sound of Nami’s broken sobs were enough to awaken your dying heart only to absolutely shatter it all over again. 

There were a thousand and one reasons why you shouldn’t look up. What good would it do you to see the hurt - the pain - of seeing you sacrificially stretched out to glorify Arlong’s purpose of hatred? Each one of them hammered its growing demand to look at them. To allow yourself at least a glimpse of relief at seeing them one last time before…before it was too late.

You should’ve listened to the chimes of warning that resonated through your skull, because when you looked up it wasn’t joy and happy smiles that greeted you. 

Nami was the first one you noticed. Her body collapsed to her knees, hand over her mouth, as she sobbed. You wanted to call out to her and remind her none of this was her fault. You chose to come here. You came here for her. To save her. And now she was where she belonged - back beside Luffy and crew. 

The sight of Luffy’s hat on her head made you want to smile. You knew the importance the straw hat held to Luffy, and he showed Nami her friendship was something he treasured - valued - above all. You wish you could tell her, “Told you so,” but would have to take a rain check. 

It was the shout of your name that tilted your head towards Usopp. Out of everyone there, Usopp is what shattered your heart the instant your eyes landed on him. Everyone deserves a friend like Usopp. Who loved them recklessly and gave support blindly. 

“The Great Captain Usopp,” you smiled around the whisper. 

You knew he couldn’t hear you. The distance was too far and his body trembled as he looked at you. You wanted to tell him it was okay. It was all going to be okay, but you were never good at lying. Usopp was always good at creating stories of adventure to comfort others and bring smiles to their faces. It was never your talent, but his. 

You were so focused on him that when movement on your left and a glint of steel eclipsed your vision you knew already who it was. The hand Luffy placed on his chest was almost not enough to keep Zoro from taking another step. 

“Zoro.”

This time your voice was no whisper. It held no plea or cry for salvation. For a split second, you were alone with him inside Nojiko’s home. His hand cradling your face, possessing your hair between his fingers, as his lips parted yours and he devoured every sound he coaxed from between your ribs. 

You wanted to tell him…needed to tell him…that you lov-

“Here she is: your monster.”

Chew stepped in front of you and obscured your vision from him. They could blind fold you and your body would still know where Zoro was. In a crowded room, on a busy street, with miles of sea between you, your soul would always find him. 

Chew moved aside to give you a flourish that sent an uneasy ripple of laughter through the men. 

“What did you do!” Nami screamed, as she rose to her feet. 

“What did we do? Nami, what did you do? You betrayed us for these sad sacks of meat! Don’t forget we made you family, girl.”

“You were never my family,” she fumed. “You were my captor. You kept me in chains. You murdered my mother. Family doesn’t do that.”

“Where’s Arlong?” 

Luffy sounded determined. While his brow was furrowed in anger, angrier than you’d ever seen him, his voice remained calm. His mind no doubt went over what he planned to do once he came face-to-face with Arlong again. No matter how determined he looked it couldn’t squash the growing fear that flared to life in your gut as the memory of their last fight came to mind.

“Luffy - don’t,” you pleaded. 

A violent cough racked through your body that strained your arms against the chains and left spittle of amber to dribble down your chin. 

“Jesus, Doc-“Sanji huffed, taking a step forward. 

The minute they moved you caught a flash of movement to your right. The side Nazifa laid curled beside you. You heard a scream cut through the air and your body violently thrashed in your chains, body erupting in shockwaves of pain, as you struggled to see the fishman who held her at her throat. The tip of a knife pressed to the skin of her jugular until a fresh dot of blood appeared. 

“Nazifa!”

She was crying hard. Her little body trembling violently in the big fishman’s grasp as he looked from Luffy and crew and back to the men around him. 

“Tavar,” Chew hissed, “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m bargaining,” the man growled as he held her up higher. The chain at her ankle pulled at the joint until she let out a tiny whimper. “Stand down or I spray the floor with her blood.”

Everything came to a halt. 

No one moved. You weren’t sure anyone was breathing as a hush rolled through the compound. The only sound that echoed with horrifying clarity was Nazifa’s sobs. 

“Put the girl down. She isn’t a part of this.”

Luffy had both of his hands up to placate the man. While he seemed to come off meek, you knew he was calculating if he could reach her in time before the fishman hurt her. Before the knife could permanently take her from this world. You knew the answer to that sickening question. 

He wouldn’t. 

“Bullshit. She’s our ticket out of here. All five of you are going to sit your asses down and play nice or you’ll be digging two separate graves.”

You couldn’t allow them to give up coming this far. Nami’s freedom was certain but the villagers - Nazifa’s future - wasn’t. They would take her to make the villagers suffer one last time. Arlong and his men would make Nazifa suffer and break the way they tried to break Nami. You would not allow another childhood to be stolen. You would not allow another village to fall prey to men - fishmen or not - like Arlong. 

The fury had died at the surprise of the blade in your side. The shock of knowing you were going to die sent the darkness back and at bay. You didn’t know much about it or what it was, but all you could do was offer your body - what was left of your life - to coax it back out. 

You pleaded - begged - as Tavar stepped back with Nazifa. The chain caught and pulled on her ankle but he didn’t stop. He kept moving. Her screams filtered the air and the fury Arlong tried to kill erupted with a vengeance inside of your gut. 

You didn’t understand what this was or what you were. You understood nothing except that whatever it was lived inside you, gave you the strength you needed, one last time to try and save her. This darkness may be born of hatred, of rage, but that was not who you were, and it would not be the last thing you allowed Arlong or his men to make you. 

“Let. Her. Go!” You bellowed.

You didn’t need to see inside the iris of Arlong, or anyone, to know what you looked like. You felt the change slide through you the way oil pours over objects; it infects the sea like a disease. The rush of strength that corded through your muscles and the sizzling sound of burning metal. 

Realistically, you knew you weren’t going to be afforded all the time in the world. While you may have felt a surge of strength, it was limited. It did nothing to cure the slow death that was overtaking your body. The spurt of power only filled tired, fading muscles. Whatever strength you were able to gain needed to go to this one moment. 

While you pulled against the restraint on your left wrist, you maneuvered your fingers to press into the metal. You pressed deeper and deeper, tugging with every fiber of your being, until you heard the wood groan in defiance just before it snapped. 

The sudden loss of suspension sent you stumbling to the ground. The sound of the canopy creaking and slowly crashing behind you swallowed up the surprised shouts of some of the fishmen. 

You only had eyes for the one. 

Nazifa watched as you tried to get your legs to work. Your ankles and knees felt unstable as you applied weight back onto the joints; the muscles screaming in protest as they weakly helped move you forward. It was a slow, chunky movement, but you didn’t need to be fast. You just needed to get him. 

Tavar was transfixed on your descent. He wasn’t paying enough attention to the fact your legs, no matter how wobbly, were moving you forward. The chain dragged behind you while your right arm remained suspended. You didn’t have time to try and pry that one free. You only had a matter of seconds to launch forward, your hand outstretched, to grab the hand that held the blade. 

Fishmen’s skin is said to be bulletproof. There was the rumor that even blades sharpened to the point it could slice through hair were unable to slice through the weakest fishmen skin. You second guessed that last one, because the minute your fingers touched down on Tavar’s hand you felt your fingertips slip into the meat underneath. 

He bellowed out a scream of shock as he dropped the knife - dropped the girl. He was backpedaling away from you, his hand held high with the skin bubbling and melting. If this was under different circumstances, you would’ve wretched. 

This was no time for a weak stomach. 

Nazifa was back on the ground and crying. Her tiny hands scurrying her back away from you as far as the chain would let her. You reached out and grabbed the chain and wrapped it tightly in your hand. She let out a scream of her own, afraid you would hurt her, before the chain sizzled in your grip just enough for you to give it a good jank and snap it in two. 

In one last attempt to get her to understand she was free, you threw the broken chain gently towards her and waited for her eyes to meet yours. 

“Run.”

You didn’t have much time left. All this commotion - the strength you didn’t have to move - it was catching up to you quick. You made sure to watch Nazifa scramble up to her feet, her tiny hands grabbing the broken chain, and run towards the front of the compound towards safety. 

Towards Luffy. 

It wasn’t long before you felt someone tug on your broken chain. It jerked you back towards them - Chew and another fishman. Chew waited until he knew your hand was safely held far enough away for him to close the distance. To wrap his hand around the hilt of the dagger Arlong gifted you and twist it in deeper. 

You could gasp. No sound came out as your mouth fell open in shock as agony spread like a shockwave through your gut. He made sure to give you one last smile before he twisted again for good measure and pulled the blade free. 

That’ll do it, you thought. Nothing in there to stop the bleeding…

You heard the roar of your name crack against the sky. You didn’t need to look to know it was Zoro who called out to you. Zoro who would never admit your name held both ferocity and anguish all in one word. You couldn’t do much else but feel your body fall weightless, swimming through nothing, as it collided with a thud against the concrete. 

You only had enough strength to turn your head to face him. Your eyes doubled in vision as you watched him rush forward, more demon than man. Your demon hunter, Roronoa Zoro. The future greatest swordsman who ever lived. 

“You’re dead.” 

The words left him like an avalanche; his voice steeped in hatred dripping with malice. His body felt like it was being boiled in his rage while his eyes focused solely on you. For a split second, Zoro felt the ground tremble under his feet. He considered maybe this was the way the earth chose to answer him. Could it feel hell stirring in the depths of its guts? The damned and demons writhing frantically beneath the soil at the thought of receiving new souls to torment? 

It took Zoro only a moment to realize it wasn’t an earthquake or hell under his feet that shook. 

It was him. 

The world faded inside his vision and narrowed in on your body protecting the girl - hilt of the blade still protruding from your side - Zoro felt like his body would implode if he didn’t move. He could deal with the anger - the sheer unmovable hatred - that promised them only their deaths. 

Fucking idiots. They didn’t seem to realize death had walked inside their compound. Zoro was more than happy to shepherd them across to hell. 

“Where’s Arlong?”

“He’d be in the map room- Zoro!”

Zoro was done talking. Done listening to plans of actions. He only needed one. 

Cut. Kill. 

He rushed forward and made contact with the first fishman in his path. His arms swiftly blocked the oncoming blade on a sloppy downward thrust that ended with Zoro’s blade slicing through his gut. His feet moved on their own accord away from the dying fishman towards the next one that rushed him. 

Zoro was vaguely aware his arms were carrying out slashes before his mind could catch up. It was years of relentless training and meditating that made him fight with ease. On any given day, Zoro would tell you it was the thrill of testing his metal and having a good sword fight that spurred him forward. He wouldn’t deny the excitement - the euphoric feeling - of beating someone supposedly better than him. Breaking foes more than twice his size into pint sized pieces. 

A fight like this - surrounded by dozens and dozens of fishmen - would tick all of his boxes. He would’ve relished in the fight. 

Not now. 

Not with you broken and bleeding so many feet away from him. 

She’s dying. 

Shut up! 

Another rush of fishmen and Zoro easily parried a blow and followed it up by rolling his shoulders to the side and bringing the Wado along with him. It sliced clean through the flesh of the fishman just in time for him to lunge forward, knocking back a blow that would’ve landed at his collarbone and embedding the Wado Ichimonji deep into the chest of his would-be attacker. 

A fishman jumped from the pool to land in front of Luffy, stopping him dead in his tracks from following Nami. Zoro tore off at a sprint, slicing the neck of a fishman on the way, and rode the momentum sideways up the rock wall. When he was close enough, he sliced just below the inside of his knees sending the fishman screaming backwards into the pool. 

Zoro landed crouched on a rock and tried to ignore the growing sting of flesh tearing. All your hard work at stitching him back together again with the help of Zeff would be for nothing if he wasn’t careful. 

Careful. What a crazy fucking concept when the rage in his gut was giving way to something more terrifying than open wounds. 

He was spending too much time on the rock. He wasn’t playing it smart. It would only take a matter of seconds for one of these assholes to get the drop on him and wound him. Zoro was aware someone was trying just that. 

A fishman landed just behind him and as Zoro swung sideways, body following at an angle, he stopped midway as Sanji power kicked the fishman off the rock. 

“I had that one,” Zoro commented dryly. 

What he received in return was a smug smile with Sanji’s hands annoyingly tucked in his pockets. 

“If you had’em I wouldn’t have got’em.” 

A flash of annoyance ran through him that was quickly followed by a thrill. It’d been a long time since someone kept him on his toes and forced him to fight faster to prove who was better. It was a feeling he could’ve got lost in if it wasn’t for the painful reminder of your lifeless body yards away. 

Lifeless. 

You weren’t even moving anymore. Your eyes were still open, but Zoro didn’t sense any movement. No light ticks as they registered the battlefield they’d created or a steady rise and fall of your chest. 

He felt himself barreling forward through the next fight. A clash of steel on steel or his blade slicing through flesh to sever bone. Zoro worked his way through wave after wave of men to make his way to you. 

Zoro’s eyes never left you. 

His eyes always flickered back after one fishman went down to make sure you were still where he’d last seen you. That no one was coming to hurt you anymore. 

Zoro wasn’t a fool. He’d seen what you’d become in the blink of an eye. The way the air itself seemed to shift as what he could only describe as black ink spilled its way along your skin. It darkened your one good eye and bled out even further. The tips of your fingers and hands slowly becoming ominous like the void while they all watched you reach out and melt your way through skin. 

Here she is: your monster. 

That’s what they’d called you as they had you on full display. Zoro was willing to bet he wasn’t the only one of them that was confused, but that confusion paled in comparison to the way you looked hung up - bloodied and exposed - like some fucked up toy. Zoro thought he knew what grief was like - the pain of loss and its familiar ache of rage when Kuina died. 

Seeing you like that almost brought Zoro to his knees. 

Your body was broken. The dagger in your side was not hard to miss along with the cuts and burns that were littered across your body. 

These men tried calling you a monster. The only monsters he saw were the dozens of fishmen around him who tried tearing you apart for their own amusement. Who dissected you, spat at you, all while he knew damn well you fought to protect that little girl long before they ever arrived. 

Zoro noticed the way that one word - monster - speared itself into your heart and caused you to flinch. He wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and help you see the only monsters here were the ones now dead at your feet. An offering Zoro would give you, if it meant it would save you. 

The next time his eyes glanced over his shoulder, as the force of his sword knocked his opponent back a few feet, he saw something different. A glimmer of hope washed over him as he realized you’d brought a hand to rest where the dagger had been. Your body was still unmoving, but it was enough for Zoro to know you were still fighting - he could still save you. 

He launched himself down the path, taking out two fishmen as he went until, on the last swing, he had to kneel down to do an upwards slash from naval to chin. The cut was successful, but it required him to overextend his arms and the sharp tug on Zoro’s still healing wound left him down on one knee. His hand hovering over the stitches and feeling fresh blood begin to bleed on the fresh bandage you’d given him. 

“You look tired. Maybe you should take a break.”

Fucking waiter. 

Zoro glanced in his direction and watched as he landed a debilitating spin kick that left Sanji at eye level. Zoro could feel a fishman rushing up behind him, but he didn’t rush to stand. He wanted to show the waiter he was more than capable of fighting - more attuned to attacks - without even having to look. 

He deflected the blow easily and stabbed the man over his shoulder. Zoro’s words grounding out as he spoke, “Maybe you outta get back in the kitchen.”

Sanji rose up just in time to duck under a downward swing. He stood to his full height to land a hard blow into the gut of his would-be attacker. 

“Quit screwing around. Doc needs us!”

Zoro didn’t care to watch as Sanji dispatched two fishmen at once. His vision had turned crimson and the adrenaline at your name leaving the waiters’ lips sent his blood roaring. The waiter should be lucky a fishman just conveniently happened to be in front of Zoro. For it was him that felt Zoro slowly press the sharp edge of the Wado against his throat just before Zoro sliced it clean through. 

“You just got here. Don’t you dare stand there and try to tell me you know what Doc needs.”

“I know she’ll need my cooking once I save her,” Sanji shot back as he went head on with another fishman. 

“Putting two slices of bread together doesn’t amount to cooking,” Zoro grumbled. 

“Ooooooh, is someone feeling threatened?”

“Shut up,” they both snapped to the very annoying, and somehow forgotten, bag strapped to Sanji’s side. 

“Then get me back to my body! We’re close. I can feel my toes. Trust me! I can help you guys win this thing and save Doc. Something tells me she is very much still bleeding on the floor.”

Zoro didn’t want to admit they could use the help. The only reason he hadn’t run to your side was the bodies that planted themselves in the way. Every fishman ended up sacrificing themselves just to make sure you’d suffer a little longer, bled longer, waiting for help that may never come. 

At this point, Zoro would take any extra help, whatever or whoever it was, if it meant he could get to you sooner. 

“I swear clown,” he growled, “if you screw us over…”

He watched as Sanji tipped the bag over and let Buggy’s head fall free from inside. It landed with an annoying thud and an even more annoying, “Ow!” Of pain. Within seconds Buggy’s head flew over towards his body and reconnected. The clown practically jumped for joy out of his restraints. His hands touched a pattern of desperation across his arms and chest as he spun around in circles. 

“Oh! It’s so much better than I even remembered.” Zoro and Sanji waited until he spun around one last time before he faced them. “Hey, so, um…I’m gonna get out of here.”

Zoro was more annoyed than surprised when Buggy flipped them off and made a run for it. 

“Hey!”

“Sorry, kiddos. I’d love to make thing right, see to it that Doc was, ya know, still alive, but it’s time I exit stage left.”

“Fucking clown,” Zoro whispered as they watched him depart. 

“Eh, we don’t need him mate. Everyone's either gone or dead-“

“How dare you strike down my fishmen brothers! That’s fine. You’re no match for my fishman karate.”

“You have a habit of speaking to soon,” Zoro snapped in the waiter’s direction, which he dismissed with a grunt. 

The large fishman ran forward and barreled like a torpedo inside of the water. Zoro tried to watch as he picked up speed inside the pool, but barely caught on at the last minute when he rose out of the water. Zoro sidestepped just in time as he grabbed a hold of Sanji and took him down. 

Zoro rushed forward and tried to cut at his back, but the fishman easily blocked it and swatted him back. The forearm that smashed into his chest sent his next breath smashed against his lungs. A fresh wave of pain took hold of his chest as he moved to stand, feeling the stitches become looser. 

He got to his feet just in time as the fishman took a challenging step toward him. Zoro was up to block the oncoming blow and spin to his feet. He swung tight curves with his blade to keep his midsection protected from any unexpected kidney shots, but it wasn’t enough. This fishman’s skin was proving to have been toughened by years of battle and experience. The Wado was sliding right off each blow that the fishman countered. 

In one swift move, he landed a crushed punch to his chest that sent Zoro flying back a few feet. When he landed, he didn’t try to get up right away. He couldn’t. Not when he felt like a split coconut. 

Zoro was vaguely aware that Sanji was up and fighting, giving him time to collect himself. It didn’t last long, however, until he was knocked back just a few inches away from Zoro’s feet. 

“You’re no match for me. My kicks can break a ship’s keel.”

“That’s nothing,” Sanji grunted, as he tried to rise to his feet. “You should have seen Zeff’s kicks when he found an eggshell in the crème brûlée.”

“I get it. Zeff was mean to you. Boo-boo.”

Once they were both on their feet, the fishman rushed forward and double kicked into Sanji’s chest, sending him flying back. Zoro easily sidestepped the waiter’s flying body and rushed forward swinging a quick succession of blows with the sword. Each one the fishman dodged, eventually knocking Zoro out of the way and back to where he started next to Sanji. 

“Nami is a fool to have her faith in such weak compatriots. First, this doctor who is weaker than a shell, and then you two. Not worth your salt to be called fighters.”

Zoro felt his brow raise in question as Sanji began to remove his suit jacket, until he saw the look on the man’s face of tight rage. 

“You don’t ever badmouth Nami. You don’t ever badmouth Doc.”

“Now you’ve done it.”

Zoro watched as Sanji landed impressive blow after blow against the fishman. Each one reverberating off the fishman’s ribs with an impactful echo. Zoro knew, without having to continue watching, that once Sanji was done calling out his last shot, the fishman wouldn’t be getting back up. 

This was his chance. 

He should’ve dared one last glance behind him just to make sure the waiter had it under control. That he wouldn’t be bringing danger back to you. It was a sensible thing to think of. But Zoro was tired of being sensible; of waiting and before he knew it, his body carried him over to you with his knees crash landing down beside you. 

His hands hovered over your body as his eyes tried to take in the stock of your injuries but - fuck - there were so many. Zoro didn’t know what to do or where to begin to look. This was your expertise. Sure, he’d closed up a few small wounds of his own. Small scars for small fuck ups. 

It was you who mended him back together after one of the biggest battles of his life. It was you who kept him alive after everything he’d said, after struggling to push you away. 

So afraid. 

Zoro had been so afraid to tell you how he felt; what you made him feel for the first time in his life. Last night in Nojiko’s hut hadn’t been enough to tell you - show you - just what your sheer presence meant to him. What your forgiveness felt like wrapped and pressed against his lips. 

A frantic sob shook itself free from his throat and brought him back from his thoughts. Tears he hadn’t known escaped past his lashes and were now sliding down his face. He needed to act. 

He needed to bring you back to him. 

Zoro could hear your voice of reason in his head, prompting him to look for the most life-threatening wound. It was easy to see. The blood that covered your hand was slowly beginning to run less and less, warning him that he was almost out of time. 

Quickly, Zoro tore his bandana off his head and removed your hand, immediately applying the cloth with pressure against the wound. The sudden press of his hand was enough to bring you back to consciousness. Your body jolted from the shock of his hand - the pain - pressing roughly against the wound and throat greedily sucking in a sharp breath that forced you to cough. 

You cried out from the pressure the cough caused and Zoro felt his body finally move into action. His free arm scooped you up close to his chest while he made sure his hand stayed pressed tightly against your wound. 

Zoro watched as your eyes tried to focus on him. It was at that moment when he felt the first stirring of fear coming back to life with a vengeance. You were so weak. The light in your eyes noticeably fading as he held your life pressed between the soaked cloth in his palm. 

He tried to smile as your eyes stopped on his face and, instead, it came out cracked. A sob shuttered through him as he fought the urge to press you tightly to his chest. 

A soft smile split across your bloodied lips. A hand that seemed weighed down by gravity itself struggled to lift up from your side. He figured after too many failures you would stop trying, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t. You were determined to bring it to his cheek until you held it gently in the palm of your hand. You couldn’t keep it there; Zoro knew from the unsteady sway your arm gave it would drop. 

Without thinking, he wrapped you closer to his body, his left hand taking over giving pressure to your wound to allow his right to hold your hand tightly to his cheek. 

“Ther-there you are…”

Zoro smiled back his tears as he whispered back, “Been waiting for me?”

“All my life.”

You’d smiled around each soft-spoken syllable like it was an everyday thing. Like it was simple, as easy as breathing. As if the both of you were in some other reality where you were waking up from a dream and he’d been there to greet you. 

As if your words didn’t shatter what little reserve Zoro was holding onto before he broke. 

You gently took your hand away and brought it down to the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji. You gave it a light tap before you said, “We have to find you two more swords,” you gasped. “You don’t look right with just one.” 

Zoro couldn’t just let your hand go. He gently pulled it away from the hilt and placed it against his chest. His eyes staying connected with yours. 

“You gotta stay with me so we can find them. Together.”

He knew, from the way your smile wilted at the edges, he might have been asking a lot. The blood in the corner of her mouth seemed to be fresh. What was he doing waiting here with you? Why wasn’t he moving? 

Do something!

“Where’s the girl?” You coughed. “Where is Nazifa?”

Suddenly, Zoro couldn’t talk. Hand flexing - release - squeeze - release…

“The girl is good, Doc. She’s safe...because of you.”

It was the waiter who replied for him, but he didn’t care. For the first time he was grateful to hear Sanji’s voice, because Zoro couldn’t trust his own. 

“Never fear - The Great Captain Usopp is here.”

One by one they all filled in. Usopp from outside the compound and Nami from inside Arlong Park. Zoro didn’t look at them or care to see them. He should’ve asked where Luffy was (he was sure he heard Usopp ask and Nami answer) but he couldn’t pry his eyes away from you. 

Zoro knew there were questions being thrown around him. The rising of heated voices and bodies crowding around him to try and get to you. Anytime he felt someone try to move in, he pulled you closer to him. 

I won’t let anything happen to you. 

Never again. 

He was lucky he’d brought you closer or else he wouldn’t have caught the barely audible whisper of your next words. 

“You were right, you know.” He felt his brow knit together and it only seemed to amuse you more. Your smile was unable to show it as it began to fade. “I should’ve stayed - with you last night. In Nojiko’s hut.”

Zoro felt himself laughing back tears. 

“That’s the first smart thing I’ve heard you say.”

“Don’t get used t - don’t get used to it, Mosshead.”

“Hey, Doc, eyes on me!”

He could feel you going limp in his arms. Zoro shook you, praying that maybe pain or annoyance would keep you with him. Zoro needed to get up - to move. You couldn’t wait any longer for Luffy to finish with Arlong. 

“Nami! Coco Village - does it have a doctor?”

“What? No, no” Nami stammered out. “The only doctor that’s been here is Doc. The village has a midwife and that’s it.” 

“It’ll have to do,” Zoro grunted. 

He placed all his weight on his legs to steady himself as he pushed back onto his heels. His arms held you close to his chest as he started sprinting towards the compound entrance and back out into the sea of trees. 

Zoro was never much for directions. It’d been a running joke since he was young that if you told him to head North, he’d somehow end up North-West or even all the way South. It didn’t bother him before, his poor sense of direction, but for once in his life he hoped, as he ran through the trees, that he was heading in the right direction to the village. 

Please. Please. 

“Zoro,” your meek voice called out for him. It called again, attempting to demand his attention, as he stopped for a brief second. His eyes roamed around the trees looking for the first sign of the tangerine groves through the clearing. With a, “Fuck,” flung loosely from his lips, he started forward again. 

He was worried you were going to tell him that he was going the wrong way. Just like you had when you’d helped him out of Kaya’s well. Zoro wouldn’t allow you to die. Not when he could save you. He wouldn’t let you die. Not because of him and his shit lack of directions. 

“Zoro-“

“Shhh, save your strength.”

“No,” you shot back. It was strong enough to make him believe you were okay. That your blood wasn’t leaking through his headband and between his fingers. “I need you to know…the flower. I think I started to fall for - for you, when you placed the flower…in my…hair.”

There! Just a few more feet Zoro could see the opening he’d been searching for. The tangerine grove just in front of him and another mile back to the village. 

“I’ll get you all the flowers you want, Snowdrop. I’ll bring you some everywhere we land. You just got to stay with me. Okay? Stay with me, Doc. You can’t leave me. You can’t - not when I’ve just found you.”

He waited for your reply. His leg muscles working in overdrive to keep himself from collapsing; keep pushing forward. He couldn’t deny his arms were beginning to shake under the strain to keep holding you, but Zoro would let his body collapse first before he ever let you go. 

He was so consumed with getting you there - if he could just get you there - it would all be okay. He didn’t notice that you’d gone limp. Your fingers were no longer digging between the buttons of his shirt to hold on. It wasn’t until he was at the edge of the village that the realization hit him and his whole body disintegrated in the center of the village. 

“Help! I need a doctor - somebody, help!”

Zoro always wondered what sound a broken man made when he felt like he lost everything. He wished he never had to find out. 

The days bled into week and that week became another. Garp and his Marines came within that time, interrupting an okay party. Sanji had - unsuccessfully - flirted with every girl in Coco Village and received the cold shoulder each time. 

It was the little amusement Zoro found throughout the whole thing. He felt bad he hadn’t actually been outside, listening to Usopp’s grand tales of adventure and defeating Arlong and his men, or seeing for himself the women blowing off Sanji’s flirtations one eye roll at a time. He wasn’t out there when Garp and his Marines first arrived, either. 

He’d been where he’s been the last few weeks stationed at your side, waiting, for the moment you woke up. The minute he’d heard the commotion outside, he’d quickly exchanged the book he’d been reading you for the Wado Ichimonji that rested beside the bed. 

It was only a false alarm. Or as false of an alarm they could all hope to get. Luffy’s grandpa wanted to hear from him that Luffy wanted to be a pirate - that he believed he was a pirate. Zoro still found it strange. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t just send a postcard or something. Beating the shit out of your grandson just to make sure you heard right what career choice your grandson wanted to make seemed like an odd choice. 

Or maybe that’s just what families did. 

Zoro wasn’t all too sure on that last part. He’d never really had a family of his own. Not until now, that is. 

The villagers in Coco Village were kind in setting up a hut for you to stay. The midwife came to change your dressings until she’d asked him if he’d wanted to learn. In the beginning, Zoro couldn’t do it. As the layers of your clothes were removed, more horrors of what Arlong and his crew did to you came to light. 

It enraged him and made him feel sick. He wanted to resurrect them just so he could kill them again. Other than that, it filled him with a deep sense of regret. No matter what anyone said to him it would never be enough. There were no time machines. No wizards or potions that allowed anyone to go back in time to change the past. 

Didn’t mean he didn’t wish there was. 

So, after the initial shock of taking in every cut, every bruise and burn, Zoro finally let Lydia, the midwife, teach him how to care for you. 

Zoro was certain it was the gentlest he’d ever been - caring for your mending body. He cleaned and dressed your wounds every eight hours. His fingers gently placing salves Lydia mentioned were for soothing and others for fighting infections. 

Zoro was meticulous in his work and thought of ways to joke that, while you were sleeping, he’d taken your job. He brought in flowers he found as he walked the Conomi islands and made sure to replace them whenever they began to wilt. 

He saved each one, pressed between the pages of the books he read to you that he’d picked up from your room. 

The reading thing was something he’d picked up. When he wasn’t meditating, going out to practice, or get food from the waiter, he was reading out loud. Nami told him how Zeff told the crew, while he’d been asleep healing from Mihawke’s wounds, the importance of talking to him. It had something to do with following the sound of their voice or knowing they were there or something like that. Zoro wasn’t paying too much attention to what Nami was saying. Zoro just knew it was important he was next to you - talking or reading - to coax you back to the living. 

He considered he must be doing a piss poor job of it. In the last few weeks, you never stirred. When he ran a cool cloth down your arms or did your dressings you gave no sign that you could feel him. When he read books that apparently were by some philosophers or a terrible tale of young love gone wrong, it would elicit nothing. When he chastised the last book out loud Zoro thought, for sure, you would rise up to smack his shoulder. 

“It’s a classic.”

His current reading was making him want to go to sleep. Zoro couldn’t believe there were that many different plants that could kill you. He also didn’t want to consider why you had a book like this stashed in your room. He placed the book down on the cot, allowing his arms and legs to stretch before he crossed them both. 

A little nap wouldn’t hurt. 

It felt like you were stuck in molasses. The more you tried to move - to force your eyes open - you were greeted by infinite darkness. You were vaguely aware, outside of that darkness, there were voices. The shuffling of movement as heavy footsteps moved around the room until they came to a stop. 

There were voices that weaved themselves in and out. Whispers of words that tried to coax you back to the surface. A velvety baritone you knew all too well-read poems from Rumí and Basho; stories of old and new lovers. Of adventures that would keep them apart. 

You followed the path his voice weaved through syllables and vowels. His voice grown raspy as his lips formed the words of poetic confessions written centuries before you were born. 

“From the beginning of my life I have been looking for your face.”

The darkness wasn’t heavy enough to keep you under - drowning - forever swimming up and up to find your way out. You followed Zoro’s voice until a crescent of light began to show up above the endless black. All you had to do was reach-

You were jolted awake. You were in your body and no longer trapped in your mind. However, the minute you opened your eyes you were met with all the healing aches your body processed. The sensitive sting as your retinas tried to get used to natural light once again. So many questions filtered through your mind - how much time passed since you were asleep? And one specific major question: how were you not dead? 

You couldn’t recall much. Your memory was fuzzy and came in puzzle pieces; always missing the necessary piece to connect it all together. The last memory you had was Nazifa. The monster you’d been so lovingly called your entire life is what you became if it meant being able to save her life. After that…Chew took out the dagger and everything seemed to fade to black. 

Everything but him. 

Your mouth was drier than desert air, but when you glanced to your left and found Zoro asleep in his chair, Wado buried in the cross of his arms, all desire for water faded. 

There wasn’t any doubt in your mind the main reason you were alive was because of Zoro. 

You took advantage of seeing him like this, softer somehow as he allowed his body to relax in the comfort of your shared hut. Your eyes greedily drank in the angles of his face. The slope of his nose down to the small scars that created imperfect indents into this skin. They were so small, like the one that rested on the inside of his left cheek and on the top of his cupid’s bow. You couldn’t imagine someone - besides Mihawk - ever being able to reach him enough to mark him in any way. It was an unreal concept, and maybe that’s why you suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to touch him. 

“You know, you’re not much of a bodyguard if you get caught sleeping.”

Gods, was that your voice?! You sounded like shit. 

“You sound like shit.”

It was nice to know that even death couldn’t kill your hormones. Zoro’s voice was thick with sleep and somehow only enhanced the richness of his voice. You hated it. You were supposed to catch him by surprise. Not the other way around. 

“Well, do you by chance have any water handy?” 

Zoro reached down beside his chair to grab a bottle that looked very much not like a water bottle. He held it out towards you, bottom first, and gave it a little wave when you made no move to take it. 

“No water. Got booze, though.”

You couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving you. Your body instantly wincing at the sharp pain it caused your very, very dry throat. 

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

Zoro shrugged before bringing the neck up to his lips and took a sip. 

“Suit yourself.”

“You know, you don’t seem incredibly shocked that I’m awake.”

“I knew you were awake before you said anything.”

“How-“

“Your breathing pattern. It changed.”

He made it sound like it was the simplest answer he could give. It didn’t feel simple to you. It meant he hadn’t really slept and that he - that Zoro - tuned himself into your breathing patterns for any sign of trouble or change. 

You weren’t sure what to say as you came to this realization. Zoro had never been one for heavy conversations or saying more than needed to be said, but the way he looked at you now…you could’ve sworn words were collecting on the back of his tongue. The both of you were unsure of how to proceed.

How long have you been here, next to me? 

You were close to asking when the door to the hut flew open and seconds later Luffy walked in, his eyes on a plate of food that had your mouth watering. 

“Hey Zoro, Sanji said you didn’t come for breakfast - OH MY GOD! Doc! You’re awake!”

Luffy had a habit of his hands grasping the top of his straw hat whenever he was excited. As if it would be enough to blow it from his head at any moment. Or maybe it was due to the fact that excitement had him rushing forward. What he was rushing towards was you, and you were not prepared for the way he threw himself on top of you. 

“Zoro - a little help,” you wheezed. 

You ask for help and what do you get? A shrug and a nod so small if you blinked, you’d missed it. 

Luffy pulled up just enough that your faces were mere inches apart. His eyes brightened with unshed tears as they roamed over your face. It took Luffy being magnet close for you to realize that you could once again see out of your right eye. The thought alone lets you breathe a little easier with the comfort you no longer look like a cyclops. 

You were alive. Your body wasn’t fully healed, and you weren’t sure if you could trust your legs but…you were alive. And Luffy was grateful to see you. 

“Oh, Doc, it is so good to see you moving around. We couldn’t get Zoro to leave the hut-“

“Okay, that’s enough,” your grumpy hut companion huffed, as Zoro couldn’t slingshot out of the chair fast enough. 

“Oh, a body crushing hug to the wounded is fine, but if he starts giving out secrets, heaven forbid.” 

You tried to glower over Luffy’s shoulder but found yourself smiling, instead. While Luffy was steadily reminding your body it was a bruised and damaged thing, it felt damn good to be in his arms. To be wrapped in his sunshine one more time. You brought your arms shakily up to embrace him as best as you could before Luffy pulled back to stand by the bed.

He smacked an excited hand across Zoro’s shoulder that earned no reaction from him. Zoro’s eyes protectively transfixed on your frame in the cot. 

“I have to let Nami, and the others know. They’re going to be so excited to know you’re okay!”

In usual Luffy fashion, he didn’t wait for confirmation from you or stopped to see Zoro was already about to protest. You were sure if Zoro was able to say anything, it would’ve been, “See needs more rest,” or something along those lines. It was something you would’ve said, but at least you could’ve added in, “Doctor’s orders.” 

Zoro just looked more broodier than usual, as Luffy crashed back out into the grove arms and voice waving out his excitement. 

The hut swelled with the silence that enveloped an unspoken heaviness between you. You couldn’t remember much, but you could remember Zoro fighting. He fought his way to get to you. Dozens of fishmen wanted him dead, but you could remember, before the blanket of nothingness danced across your vision his eyes as they found you. 

The Demon Pirate Hunter had never looked more broken.

Zoro crossed his arms over his chest - his still very swollen nicely formed chest - stop that! - and you wondered if he’d been tending to his own wounds. His jaw ticked and a heavy swallow followed as he turned his attention back to you. You couldn’t take the silence. You wanted to remind him he’d kissed you, not that long ago, in a place very similar, but you weren’t sure if it was to make him more protective or run screaming from his emotions.

Why did he have to be complicated? Naan said people were like onions - multilayered and required time to peel back everything there was to know. You wondered how many layers of protection for himself Zoro added sitting there beside you, not sure if you were going to make it. 

Or…no. They’d seen what you had become. 

Here she is your monster.

You tried to swallow past the growing dread that suddenly pressed down on your chest. You were never good at reading the room but - Luffy hugged you. They seemed grateful you were alright but…they all had to have seen. And yet…

“Zoro,” it wasn’t hard to notice the way his body tensed before it eased out of his body. “How is your wound? Have you or anyone else been tending to it?”

At least now he looked surprised. It was better than broody. 

“You’re lying in bed - more wounds than I can count - and you’re asking about mine?”

“Well, duh. I am a doctor, remember? You were my patient first.”

There it was. That half-cornered smirk you’d grown to love.

“I’m fine. It opened up a little during the battle, but I’ve been taking care-“

“Your stitches opened!” You sat up too fast and your hand shot to your side. Your own body trying to remind you, with a wince, it was still on the mend. 

Zoro was there kneeling by the bed, his hands furiously tossing back the blankets to get a clear look at your wound. It felt oddly intimate, his deft fingers running over the bandage and lightly prodding for any signs of tear or bright fresh blood. 

“You need to be more careful,” he huffed.

Your sudden outburst had him achingly close. His hand that he’d brought to your side protectively stayed in place over the bandage. You weren’t prepared for how close it’d brought you both together. If you wanted, you could’ve placed your forehead against his. You could lean just a few inches, brush your eyelashes across his cheek or press your lips against his.

But would he still want you? 

Your tongue nervously licked out across dry, cracked, lips and you weren’t a fool. The hungry way Zoro’s eyes followed the motion was the silent answer you needed. 

“Zoro,” you breathed his name like the faithful coming to worship. 

Another jaw tick. Another flick of his gaze was all it took for him to take that next step to move closer. Until the sound of sprinting feet pounding up wooden stairs tore you apart. 

When Usopp crashed through the door, he did so shouting your name. It was hard to be mad when you could see he was already crying. He launched himself at you and you started a debate whether he or Luffy squeezed the hardest when they were overcome with emotions. 

“Hey, hey,” Zoro chastised, “Remember she’s still not at a hundred percent. Be gentle.” 

“You telling anyone to be gentle, Mosshead, is the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Sanji!” 

His name came out in a fit of laughter as he moved towards you with gentle blue eyes and sunshine grin. Zoro grew tense beside you the closer Sanji came, and you thought you were going to have to intervene, but Sanji made it over and wrapped his arms around Usopp and you. 

“It’s so good to see you awake, Doc,” Sanji hummed into your ear. 

“It’s good to see you too, Sanji. How far does that happiness at me being alive and well go? Does this mean I get to order anything off the menu?”

“For you, sweets, I’ll even let you make your own menu,” Sanji replied as he stood up. 

A wink already loaded in the chamber and sent your way the minute he stood to his full height. 

“You’re pushing it, waiter,” Zoro warned. 

Sanji just shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to smile down at you. Slowly, Usopp disconnected himself from you, but made sure to take one of your hands in his. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up…so I can tell you all about how I single-handedly stopped Arlong and saved your life.”

You couldn’t stop your brows from raising up towards your hairline at his words. Of course he was the man of the hour. Who else could’ve performed such a truly amazing feat?

“Did you use your smoke powder special slingshot ammo?”

“Yes!” Usopp breathed out with a smile, “I was able to load multiples at once this time. They rained down on those fishmen and set them all on edge - just where I wanted them.”

You were smiling as you watched Usopp draw his arm back and make noises of the slingshot releasing. The small pops of explosions, the small powdered balls made as they crash landed on the floor inside Arlong Park.  You tried to keep wearing that same engrossed smile as your brain recalled how they really sounded. The smoke created a cloud that made it impossible to see - to breathe. 

Zoro must have noticed the slight change - a crack in the facade you tried to play - because you felt his hand gently place itself on your shoulder. For comfort and to ground you there in the present. 

“But I can tell you all about it when we get ready to leave.”

“For the Grand Line?”

Usopp’s smile wilted just a little before he responded, “Not exactly.”

You looked up at Luffy, Sanji, and lastly Zoro who’d taken back his hand and wasn’t facing you. 

“What’s going on?”

“Doc, we’ve been talking and we think it would be best to take you back.”

“Back?” 

“Back to Syrup Village.”

“I would just like to quickly point out,” Sanji began as he took a step forward, “that the only one who thinks this is a good idea is Usopp.”

“Way to throw me under the bus, man,” Usopp shot back over his shoulder. 

“I’m not going back.”

“Doc, look at what happened to you.”

“What happened to me can happen anywhere, Usopp, even Syrup Village. You of all people should remember how unwelcome I am there. How much they hate me.”

You whispered the last words as you leaned in to him, knowing that he was the only one who understood. How could he think that place was better for you than the Merry? 

“Naan is there-“

“She is the only one there with you gone.” Your voice was beginning to quiver and you hated how your body betrayed how deeply this was hurting you. “What am I supposed to do when she’s gone too?”

“I told you this was a shit idea,” Zoro grumbled.

“Not helping,” Usopp shot back. 

“Doc is a person with dreams and aspirations,” Luffy cut in between them. His body outlined in a halo from the outside light. “None of us have the right to take those away from her or tell her how to live her life. Not even if it’s meant to come with good intentions.”

Footsteps carried up the stairs and made their way to the doorway. A light knock from outside let everyone know, whoever they were, was coming in.  It wasn’t until you saw the bright orange hair that you felt your body try to leap out of the bed. 

“Nami!”

It was easy to see she wanted nothing more than to run over to you, as well. The two of you were owed one of the world’s longest hugs once you were out of this bed. You expected her to do just that, but noticed how she shuffled around Luffy with her hands softly on the shoulder of Nazifa. 

You felt your world tilt. She was safe. She was here and she was safe and okay and alive. But that joy was easily replaced with uncertainty. Flashes of the fear you’d caused her as she looked upon your face. Beyond the blood, bruises, and the place she’d ended up, Nazifa was terrified of you. 

You waited for her to scream. To point and tell you everything that you’d ever heard about yourself from others. You steeled your heart and tried to prepare for those words of fear and hatred to bash against the walls you’d so carefully created. Waited for the villagers to swarm the hut with pitchforks and torches to chase out the entire crew. 

The tension brought to life every wound your body was trying to heal but nothing prepared you for Nazifa barreling straight ahead. Her tiny body colliding into yours with such force your side erupted in pain. You couldn’t care about that as her tiny arms enveloped your waist and buried her face against your chest. 

“I’m happy you made it.”

You barely picked up her words as she mumbled them against your chest. Your arms were still held inches above her tiny body. Unsure of whether you should hug her back, if it was what she wanted. Carefully, you test it one arm at a time until they enveloped around her, bringing her in for a warm hug. 

“Me?” You whispered against her hair. “I’m happy you are safe. It’s all I wanted.”

“And she is - we all are - because of you. Because of your friends.”

The voice of Nazifa’s father jolted your head up to watch as he slowly entered the hut. Nami and Luffy made space for him as he entered and behind him, at the steps of the hut, were villagers who looked on. Each one of them held a look of gratitude.  

“You came to help even when you were told it could cost you your life. You’ve begun to heal me. You’ve given me one of the most precious gifts a father could ask for - time. You saved Nazifa not caring what it could cost. You have given us many gifts to be grateful for, and you, Doc of the Straw Hat crew, we are most grateful for you.” 

With each word every memory that shaped you from your village, all the words of disgust, the glances of mistrust; every single one disintegrated until the only one that was left was this moment. 

You were seen beyond what - who - you were questioned to be. None of them called you witch or devil. There was no hatred in their eyes or pitchforks ready to send you scattering back up to the hut up on the cliff. No one was trying to drag you back out to the ocean to leave you there to drown. 

For the first time in your life, you were met with kindness, and that kindness was enough to shatter every defensive wall you’d built. You felt yourself shatter under their gratitude, under Nazifa’s tighter embrace, and her soft words, “I’m glad it was you who came.”

The villagers had walked the crew back to the Going Merry to send you all off. It felt bittersweet slowly watching as their waving hands began to fade until all that was left on every side was the ocean. 

The walk back to the ship had been a challenge you weren’t expecting. What made it even more of a challenge was that Zoro was hellbent on being the only crew member to help you. You wanted to use a walking stick and, instead, ended up piggybacking on the back of one particularly handsome green-haired swordsman. 

Walking the Merry, you inhaled deeply as you moved down the stairs towards the crew’s quarters. The memory of being aboard Arlong’s ship and his hospitality felt like a nightmare. The Merry was your home and as you walked the familiar halls towards your room, it was a fact there was no denying. 

Usopp wanted you to go back to Syrup Village, but dropped the argument. He was outnumbered five to one and, most important of all, you refused to go. The Going Merry was more your home than Syrup Village ever was and the crew inside her walls were your family. 

You were smiling at this revelation when you came across the door to your room ajar. It stopped you dead in your tracks. You knew when you’d left that you had shut the door. Carefully, you took a few cautious steps forward and heard the rustling sound of movement. 

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by Zoro’s back. He was stacking books back on your shelves and continued to do so even after you’d opened the door. 

“I didn’t know you were in the habit of stealing books,” you teased, as you stepped inside your room. 

“I’m not. I used these to read to you while you were…asleep.”

So it had been his voice you’d heard calling to you all those times. While you didn’t always hear the words, you knew the cadence of his voice. The way his tone rasped and grumbled when it’d been out of use. The depth of the baritone when his voice dropped in pitch. It had been Zoro who’d led you back - back to him. 

Zoro still hadn’t turned to look at you and maybe it was for the best. You weren’t exactly sure what your face looked like at the moment. 

“Zoro-“

“Never again.”

You were about to take another step towards him, but the tone of his voice stopped you midstep. He’d finished lining the books back on the shelves and now leaned with his hands pressed against your desk. 

“What?”

“I woke up and you were gone. Not just gone. You were taken.”

“We’ve been over this, Zoro-“

“And we’ll go over it again!” His hand pounded on your desk, causing it to groan before he turned to face you. You were expecting him to be angry, but he didn’t just look angry. He looked broken. A man who had watched someone he cared about be torn to pieces in front of them and wasn’t sure if they would survive. “Well go over this again and again until you get it.”

“Please don’t assault my desk.”

“Doc, I’m being serious. I won’t allow you to do it a second or third time.”

“Allow? And how are you going to keep me from doing it if your thick moss headed self is lying unconscious from an idiotic sword fight, huh?”

This time you did dare to take a step forward. Your index finger jammed into a very hard chest, but you weren’t here to appreciate his chest or the way he towered over you. You wanted to make a point…you just had to remember what that point was when his hand gently reached up and took your wrist to place your hand over his heart. 

“I’m not going down a second time.”

“You don’t know that.”

Gods, why did your voice sound so shaky? Answer: Zoro, with his hand keeping yours pressed to his chest, had taken a step closer. Close enough when you tried to tuck your chin to hide the tears that stung your eyes his finger was there to stop you. He lifted your chin softly up and up until your eyes were locked back on his. 

“I do know that and, because I know that, it also means I’m keeping you close at all times.”

“You can’t make that kind of promise, Zoro.”

You didn’t doubt him. You wouldn’t ever doubt him again, but the memory of watching him go down haunted you even as he stood before you. Whole, but with a few added scars. 

He didn’t answer you right away. His eyes scanned over your face no doubt easily seeing the desperate way you pleaded with him to promise it anyways. 

“I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Through the adventures brought on by our captain or those we make on our own. I’m yours, Doc and you’re mine. I’ll be here for you just like I know you were there for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

If it wasn’t for Zoro’s hand holding yours steadily against his chest you were positive the trembling in your body would’ve spread. With his free hand he brought it up to cup your cheek closing in the last few inches between you. 

His eyes roamed your face - searching - waiting to show him that this was what you wanted. That he was what you wanted. Why couldn’t he see you wanted him without question and with so much urgency. Ever since that day he’d tucked the flower behind your ear looking at you like you’d held his world in the curve of yours lips. 

You’d both been a part of what the other had been searching for and finally found it. 

Zoro must have gotten all the confirmation he needed because he closed the last few inches between you. His kiss started off timid and chaste until he finally let go of your hand and circled his arm around your waist pinning you to him. He was careful to make sure he didn’t press you too harshly against him. His hand firm and careful of all the wounds that still required healing, but a soft gasp you hummed against his lips tested his restraint. 

Just as the kiss began to deepen Luffy’s voice calling for the straw hat’s to assemble for a cast- off ceremony broke you apart. Zoro didn’t completely let you go. His breathing ragged and his eyes still hungrily stared at your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“We better go,” you huffed. “Before he calls again.”

“This better be important or I’m going to mutiny.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“At this point I’m really tempted.”

Gently Zoro reached down and took your hand and led you back down the hallway; back out towards the main of the ship. Sanji had already rolled out a barrel with Nami and the rest all circled around and waiting for you. Each one of you were stationed around the barrel, and just before you could ask what this was about Sanji silently answered you.

Sanji looked around the circle before he lifted up his leg and said, “I’m going to find the All-Blue,” planting his foot on the barrel.

A smirk lifted Luffy’s lips as he lifted up his foot and dropped it with a thud onto the barrel. 

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

For the first time in a long time, you watched a genuine teeth-baring grin spread over Zoro’s face. His own foot coming down next to Sanji’s. 

“I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

Nami looked at you, her eyes the brightest blue, and placed her foot down next to Luffy’s. 

“I’m gonna draw a map of the world.”

Usopp looked at everyone before landing on you. His eyes filled with uncertainty as he knew it was his turn to express what his dream was. You were sure no one had ever asked to know before, but now, Usopp had friends who genuinely wanted to hear it. 

With a sharp inhale he planted his foot on the barrel and yelled, “I am gonna be a great adventurer of the sea!”

It now fell on you. What was your dream? You’d shared it with Luffy once, inside the kitchen of Kaya’s house. You remembered the way he believed in you - believed in all of you. You looked over at Luffy and felt your own smile spread wide until you placed your foot beside Usopp and Zoro’s. 

“I’m gonna be the greatest doctor the world’s ever seen.” 

You looked around the barrel with your legs flowered out around the top and saw what had to be the world’s greatest misfit family. Luffy looked around at all of you, a proud smile worn on his face as he spoke, “This is it crew. The Grand Line. Nothing’s going to stand in our way! Yaaaahoooo!”

If only Luffy knew there was plenty that would stand in the way. None of it would matter, however, not with a crew, a family, like yours. 

As always, Thank you so much for reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! &lt;3

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 10

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) The smut has arrived. 

Words: 10.3k

A/N:  Alright y’all. The smut has arrived. Is it any good? Probably fucking not. So I apologize in advance but ya girl tried. Hopefully, as I continue to write intimate scenes for these two idiots, it won’t be such a dumpster fire. That being said, this chapter is a lot more fun, more lighthearted, and (fingers crossed) a good time. Filler chapter part 1 in this series is here and hopefully it’s a good a time as all the rest. And as always: Thank You. For always being so kind and loving my story as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy it 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

p.s. please press play whenever you get to a certain part. You'll know when you get there.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Previous

Warnings: swearing, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids), fingering, virginity taking (?) mentions of past trauma, doc being awkward as hell

You weren’t sure what kind of dream you were having in the beginning. It could’ve been a lovely one. It also could’ve been a terrible one, but that was the beauty of sleep. Sometimes it didn’t have to be accompanied by a dream and just be blissful, peaceful, oblivion. You were willing to bet one of Sanji’s orange tarts that you were sleeping in the last category before a violent jolt shifted you awake.

You thought the Merry was capsizing; a wave had come darting over the side and sent her ass over the stern. Instead, it was Roronoa Zoro who stood at the end of your bed, arms crossed, with a booted foot on the bedframe where said foot had shoved the frame back against the wall. 

“The fuck-”

“Get up.”

“-are you doing in my room?”

Each word was a grumble. You were positive if your eyes could open up, you’d be giving him a glare so potent that it might kill him. Fortunately for Zoro, your eyes were still battling the glaze of sleep. Unfortunately for you, even with your eyes hooded in the shape of a crescent moon, you were painfully aware that he was wearing a beige kimono-style shirt. It was specifically the one you’d mentioned to Nami a few times since leaving the Conomi Islands that was a particular weakness of yours. 

The way the sleeves strained against his biceps - the muscles underneath blatantly on display with his arms crossed. The sinful way the dip of the V-shape exposed your eyes to the tanned chest underneath. A chest you knew very well was as defined as the muscles in his arms. 

“Have you been eavesdropping again?”

It was the only solid reason you could think of for seeing him wear that specific shirt - and ones like it - five times now in the last few days. You didn’t even try to hide your irritation, and Zoro didn’t flinch as it carried over to the noticeable pitch in your tone. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, get up.”

“Of course you don’t,” you mumbled. 

You fell back against the softness of the mattress. A hand scrubbed aggressively over your face in an attempt to try and chase away what fatigue remained. This only resulted in his planted boot giving the frame of your bed another violent shake. 

“Alright, alright! I’m getting up,” you snapped, hurling a pillow in his direction. It wasn’t a shock to watch Zoro easily dodge it. “Has anyone told you how much of a pain in the ass you are?”

“I’ve been told once or twice. Now - up.”

“I am up!”

“You’re still lying there.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides and it took every ounce of your current self-control not to flail them into the sheets. 

“My god, Zoro, what the hell are you even waking me up for?”

Zoro didn’t bother to remove his boot until he watched your body shift under the sheets. Your arm reluctantly threw back the blankets as you started small shuffles to the edge of the bed grumbling the whole way. It wasn’t until your feet were planted on the wood of your cabin floor that Zoro removed his boot off the bed. 

The cold blank stare he usually wore plastered carefully on his face. A little too careful if anyone cared to ask you. Like he might be enjoying waking you up like a crazy drill sergeant for the Marines. 

As he made his way over to you, he uncrossed his arms and held out his hands for you to take. A pipeline of support that you wanted to smack away because damn him for waking you up when he knew damn well you’d gone to bed late. No matter how childish you wanted to be, however, you couldn’t deny the heat in his eyes made you painfully aware of how close he was. A bed behind you and only a secured upper body wrap holding you together with a pair of shorts were the only things between you. 

You weren’t at a hundred percent yet. The damage Arlong and his men subjected you too was extensive - requiring weeks if not months of upcoming healing. It took you a whole week just to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and not hate what you saw. The rawness of a body now molded and shaped with some scars that would fade over time with some that wouldn’t. 

You weren’t a vain person but…it was a lot. 

There wasn’t any denying the look in Zoro’s eyes but you couldn’t keep your insecurity from flaring to life. It took every fiber of your being not to wrap your middle in a protective hug. Instead, you allowed your hands to slip inside the palm of Zoro’s. He pulled you up quickly, a little too quick, which caused your feet to wobble and your chest to collide with his. 

Your hands landed on his chest to try and steady yourself. Zoro’s own hands fell to your waist to either steady you or -

“You did that on purpose.”

Fuck. Did he always look at you this way? 

In the past few weeks since you’d come back - after the moment inside the tent - an unspoken bond formed between you. It went past sealed limbs and hands that enveloped possessively around flesh. It was an unseen thing that tethered you both to each other. It felt unexplainable the way you knew he was coming before he’d ever entered the room. 

You knew he was behind your door before he’d ever knocked. It was the pause in the shadow under the doorway that gave him away. The sound of a heavy breath shuddering free from a body that was filled with apprehension, which didn’t seem like Zoro at all. 

And while he knew you were his - surely he must know - Zoro entered your space with caution, with timid touches and glances that made sure you knew you held all the control. You, the sun, and him the moon hopelessly moving around your orbit, but somehow, he’d filled every space that used to be empty with nothing but him.

One of them being now. 

In a room full of drying herbs and flowers that cascaded down one side of your room, a few overhead, it should’ve only smelt just like that. The scents of orange blossoms and wisteria mixed with mint. All the smells you’d come to associate with home now mixed with the heady smell of the sea, metals, and the camellia oil Zoro used to sharpen the Wado Ichimonji.

Your space was as much his as it used to be yours.

Zoro didn't answer you or offer up any explanation. His dark eyes only followed your tongue as it wet your bottom lip. His hands gripping your hips a fraction tighter - pulled you in closer. Zoro’s neck craned down to bring his lips closer and you pushed up on your tiptoes - “You and I are training this morning.”

You were going to kill him. 

Your neck was still craned to the side as you scanned his face to see if this was a joke. You waited for a crack in his stern expression to soften with the brightness of his smile. His real one. What you got was that deep gaze that informed you he meant it, and you couldn’t get your eyes to stop blinking back the swear words brewing in your brain. 

“Come again?”

“Training. That’s what we are doing this morning. So, get dressed and meet me on the deck in five.”

To send his message home, Zoro gave your ass a slight smack earning him a squawk of surprise. Your hand absentmindedly rushing up to massage the sting he left just as he released you. If you weren’t shellshocked, you would’ve smacked his arm as he turned and headed for the door. 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief. 

“And I can’t believe I’m in love with a woman who screams like a bird.”

“I beg your pardo -“

“Five minutes, Doc. You make me wait more than that and I’ll come back to get you.”

“That sounds less frightening and more exciting than I think you’re going for, Mosshead.”

Zoro stopped, hand on the door before he turned back just enough for you to spot the smirk that was beginning to chase the darkness from his eyes. 

“Five minutes.”

Those were his parting words before he exited your room quietly shutting the door behind him. You stared at where he’d left, your brain trying to make sense of what exactly just took place. One minute, you were blissfully sleeping, and the next you were rubbing out the sting Zoro’s hand left on your ass. Not to mention, you were apparently supposed to train with him in less than five minutes. 

You were going to have to make a quick stop at the kitchen before you met him on deck. 

“No, absolutely not. Go put that back right now.”

You weren’t sure what you would find when you finally made it up on the deck. Sure, you were pre-warned that you were going to be subjected to some form of training. Mentally, you prepared yourself to see the weights Zoro used daily or ropes to launch with your arms in ever-expanding waves with him yelling to send them higher and higher. Your mind created obstacle courses and brutal regimes that were going to leave you begging for a time out; to come back and try another day.

What you didn’t expect to find was Zoro - your Zoro - shamelessly shirtless. 

Gone was his shirt from earlier leaving only the sash that held his sword at his waist, jeans, and his boots. Conveniently, he’d left his bandana wrapped around a bicep that was currently flexed; the hilt of the Wado squeezed tight in his palm as he displayed it at his side.

While you hadn’t been prepared for him to be shirtless, Zoro hadn’t expected you to come out with one of Sanji’s pots.

In your book, that made you even.

You waited until you were only a couple of feet from him before you theatrically lifted it up by the handle and gave it a spin. 

“Put it back,” Zoro demanded.

“Absolutely not,” you replied curtly, allowing yourself to spin the pot inside your palm again. “I think you forget how amazing I am with Lucille.”

“Lucille?”

It was cute watching Zoro’s brow raise in apt horror. His eyes watched as you pretended to get ready to throw the pot like a ball. 

“Yeah - that’s her name. You know, the same way your sword has a name.”

“This sword was given a name by one of the greatest and most influential families to ever exist - alive or dead. You can’t just go around naming your own weapons.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem fair, and saying things like Lucille doesn’t deserve a name will make her cry.”

“Please stop calling the pot Lucille.”

“Oi! Doc! Is that my cooking pot?”

If it had been any other time, any other place, that Sanji interjected himself into, Zoro would’ve looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon. Annoyance, a badge of honor he seemed to wear constantly whenever Sanji was present. But, it was your first day of training and here you came, pot in hand, and said cook coming out to reclaim it was the savior Zoro didn’t know he needed.

You could practically see his eyes light up with satisfaction as Sanji stomped his way over to you. 

“She is no longer a cooking pot, Sanji. She is now affectionately known as Lucille.”

Sanji came to a stop beside you. The sleeves of a powder blue dress shirt rolled up his forearms and a fresh cigarette held between his fingers. The other tucked, as per usual, inside the safety of his trousers. He didn’t try to hide the confusion that etched his brows together and, using his free hand, created a line from you to Zoro.

“Oi, Mosshead, you put her up to this?”

With his free hand, Zoro waved off Sanji’s accusation. His hip cocking as he placed the Wado Ichimonji back inside its sheath. Once he knew it was secure, he used it as a perch for his hands. 

You were very aware of the struggle you were having to pay attention to the conversation at hand. It had to do with the pot in your hands that you were no longer fiddling with. Zoro wanted you to put it back, and Sanji was more than happy to remove it from you. That should’ve been your main focus and yet…

Zoro was far more distracting when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

Dangerously distracting. You tried to remind yourself you’d seen him shirtless before. Back at Baratie - when none of you were sure he’d make it another night. You’d exposed his chest to the room, stitched his wounds, and cleaned them. 

This was different. 

Back then, Zoro was pale from blood loss. There was no life - no color - to his skin. Not like the way the sun darkened his skin and dusted kisses of freckles over his shoulders. Every cord of muscle in said chest flexed around the diagonal scar that ran from the top of his left peck to the top of his sash. A scar meant to be a lesson now appeared to blend into the skin; a warning to those who sought a challenge. 

A vision of the willpower he possessed to fight even death itself. 

Your gaze was too hungry. You weren’t able to tear your eyes away as he shamelessly flexed the muscles in his forearms that led ever upwards. The way your mouth watered as he turned at his waist, back and forth, to loosen up his back. The movement only put on full display the deep indent that rested between his shoulder blades. 

“Why would I tell her to grab a pot from the kitchen?”

Sanji hadn’t been prepared for his response. He appeared to consider Zoro’s question while he removed his hand from the pocket of his trousers and motioned for you to hand it over. You wish you could say you handed it over with grace, but instead you placed Lucille behind your back.

“Hand it over, Doc.”

“I’m keeping her.”

“It’s my pot,” Sanji reminded you.

“And she deserves better.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Doc, just hand over the damn pot so we can get started.”

No. Nope. You were not pouting. You most definitely weren’t pouting when you glanced at Zoro. You especially weren’t pouting when you gingerly took Lucille from behind your back and placed her handle inside the palm of Sanji’s waiting hand.

“There. Was that so hard?”

“I’ll come back for you,” you whispered to the shiny metal.

Your words only earned you a worried look of concern from Sanji.

“Should I be locking up my pots and pans now? What in the hell is going on?”

Sanji’s question wasn’t directed at you and, if you weren’t still trying to take back the pot from him, you might have been offended. Instead, you allowed the worry Sanji seemed to have for your mental health to fall away while the sound of Zoro’s heavy footsteps making their way across the deck reminded you of the reason you were there. 

“If you’re done messing with the waiter, we have more important things to do.”

You wanted to ask Zoro if he was trying to cause you permanent emotional distress. It had to be the reason he just oh so casually strolled over, still extremely shirtless, very much glistening in the sun with his chest just…out…like that with his wrists resting on the hilt of the Wado. You swore if he so much as tucked a thumb into the sash you were going to combust.

“I can assure you, Mosshead, there is nothing more important to Doc than me.”

“Actually, that would be false,” you cut in around the inhale of breath Zoro was dragging through his teeth. “The most important thing to me is breakfast.”

“I can definitely make a five-star breakfast for one of my favorite girls.“

“We. Are. Training.”

Each syllable knocked against Zoro’s teeth in annoyance. If you didn’t start doing said training soon, you were going to be in the middle of an actual fight. It wouldn’t be the first - or the last - time Sanji and Zoro went at each other with more than just words. 

After the first week of each of them testing the waters of whose presence bothered who the most, they’d ended up coming to blows inside the kitchen. Much to Sanji’s very loud displeasure not only had Zoro’s forehead scuffed Sanji’s recently polished boot, but he’d simultaneously ruined dessert. 

Now Sanji did whatever he could to agitate Zoro, and Zoro did the same. And Sanji’s favorite way to agitate Zoro? Well, that was to irritate him by using you in practically every available reference. 

Because of this, a sharp exhale exited your body as you gently patted a chest you forgot was bare. Very bare. 

Ignore it. Move on. We are moving on…

“Alright. Yes, we are about to train. So, let’s…train away. That way.” 

You directed Zoro to turn around with your hands secured on his shoulders for extra measure. You waited until you were both far enough away from Sanji before you released Zoro, only to find Sanji now seated on a crate. 

Great. Just what you definitely didn’t need - an audience. 

“Alright, Sensei,” you said, voice full of apprehension. “Train away.”

This was punishment. It had to be because you couldn’t imagine any sane human being subjecting themselves to doing this for longer than an hour. First, Zoro made you sprint to the front and back of the Merry ten times. While, at the time, ten felt like such an easy, if not silly, number and you’d mentioned it to him. 

“How am I supposed to work up a sweat going around only ten times? I’m not a baby.”

As it turns out you were, in fact, a baby. 

A giant one by the sounds your lungs audibly made as your legs struggled up a set of stairs. If you’d been smarter and taken the smirk of challenge that rose to his lips as a warning, maybe you would’ve kept your mouth shut. Maybe Zoro would’ve taken pity on you and allowed you a drink of water when you finished, instead of immediately handing you two forearm length pieces of bamboo. 

“What the hell is this?”

Each word squeezed between a ragged breath. You were trying to remain stoic; composed. What you ended up with was your head thrown back, your mouth greedily gulping for air, and eyes shut tight against the sun. 

“Bamboo sticks.”

God, sometimes Zoro was so matter-of-fact you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg for shits and giggles or if he’d removed his sense of humor. 

“Yes, Mosshead, I see that they are bamboo sticks. No Katana for me?”

“You’re a little clumsy for a Katana -“

“Well, that’s rude,” you mumbled between shifting the weight of one stick in your hand. 

“-you don’t hold your balance well. So, I figured Kenpo sticks might serve you better. To be able to hold any weapon for a long period of time, however, you’re going to have to train the muscles in your arms. Whether it’s holding them or swinging them for extended periods of time. That being said, you’re going to swing each stick five hundred times.”

A whistle from the Northern side of the deck cut across your stunned silence. A reminder that while you’d been struggling to run a few laps, you’d gained an audience. 

“I don’t know Zoro,” started Usopp, “I myself am pretty well-versed in hand-to-hand combat but even that seems…a lot for someone’s first time.” 

Of course, none of you were going to mention that Usopp’s combat consisted of his slingshot or running. You were sure if anyone did, he would’ve chalked it up to being one of the first snipers to ever be able to shoot while running in the East Blue. 

Zoro didn’t appear to be moved by Usopp’s words. His shoulders shrugged them off as he moved closer to you, his hands wrapped around the sticks. It was the fifth time held corrected you in over two minutes since you’d started. Not that you were counting or anything. 

Fuck, your arms were already starting to burn. 

“Pain is weakness leaving the body.”

“If you say, ‘mind over matter,’ next I’m lacing your next dinner with a laxative,” you warned. 

Zoro didn’t appear to be the least bit phased by your most recent threat. His eyes drifted back to watching your form and the way you swung the Kenpo sticks. If you didn’t stop at a full ninety-degree angle, he was going to add on another fifty swings to make up for the ones that weren’t right. 

“Can we please move on to something else before my arms fall off?”

You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. You felt fucking desperate, at this point in your life. You were pretty sure if you kept this up your arms were just going to refuse to work. You needed your arms. They were very vital in being able to be a person. Like eating food, that your stomach loudly reminded you that you needed. 

“It sounds to me like Doc is in need of that breakfast she mentioned earlier,” Sanji called. 

“I could definitely take a second breakfast,” Luffy cut in, his arm raised for added effect. 

“You’ll take seconds of anything,” Nami quipped, earning her a smile from the Straw Hat pirate. 

“And that is why I put a lock on the pantry.”

“There was a lock?”

It was Sanji’s absolute look of horror at Luffy’s confusion that sent you into a giggle fit. One that ended as quickly as it began when Zoro used the covering of the Wado to wack against your thigh. Just like he had that night back at Baratie. 

“What the hell was that for?!”

“You dropped your arms. I’ll add another hundred if you don’t resume your position in the next five seconds.”

You felt your eye twitch - you couldn’t make it stop. You were sure it meant you were either going to have a mental breakdown or worse. Zoro didn’t seem to be worried about either option. His eyes expectantly watched to see what your choice was going to be. 

Suddenly, you were back in your room being woken up by the very same madman in front of you. All you wanted was to sleep in. Maybe add in a little breakfast with the stuffed French toast Sanji had been spoiling you with the last couple of days. 

But no. 

No, you were trapped out on the deck with your crazy demon pirate three-sword-wielding boyfriend. To bring this home, your stomach gave another loud growl and your hands went flailing around in front of you.

“Ugh, Doc. What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m fighting ghosts,” you deadpanned. “What does it look like, Usopp?”

“It looks painful. Are you supposed to be breathing that hard?”

Usopp was right. You were breathing hard. Whether it was from your impromptu tantrum or something else, you weren’t sure. 

“Are you done?”

And then there was Zoro. 

Mr. Composed himself standing there waiting for you to finish. He’d crossed his arms over his chest leaving his perky chest and all his perky muscles on full display. If it wasn’t for your growling stomach it might’ve been enough to distract you. 

A low whistle came from your audience drawing Zoro’s attention away from you. 

“Who knew Zoro was such a masochist?”

“I am not a masochist!” 

“I don’t know, Mosshead. You do seem to be getting off on keeping Doc away from food.”

“I am not.”

“Me doth think the lady protests too much,” Sanji teased, his tongue working around the toothpick he’d placed between his lips. 

“And I think the waiter should get back to the kitchen.”

“Okay, okay!” Nami interjected, jumping off the crate she sat on moments ago. “How about a compromise? Doc gets to eat and as soon as she does, Zoro, you can go back to training her until her arms fall off.”

“I’d like to keep my arms and any other future appendages if that’s alright with everyone,” you added. 

It was a shot in the dark. One you were grateful to Nami for taking. If anyone stood a chance at letting you get even a smidge of breakfast, it was going to be the ship's resident thief and smooth talker extraordinaire. 

But Zoro wasn’t just anyone and he was rarely swayed. Immune to everything on the planet that didn’t come with an alcohol percentage rate. 

And just like that, an idea so ingenuous crept up on you that it almost sent you jumping in place. 

“Or how about this, Zoro,” you began, “the next time we dock, I’ll not only buy you unlimited drinks at the nearest bar. I’ll also buy you a case of whatever you want.”

You tried to keep the hope out of your voice. Unless it tipped Zoro off how truly desperate you were for Sanji to feed you. Who knew what kind of add-ons he would make to an already painfully expensive offer. 

It didn’t take long for you to spot the flare of interest in his eyes. The only tell you needed to know you had him right where you wanted. Your stomach had never been more grateful. 

“Unlimited drinks, two cases of whatever I want, and when you finish with breakfast we pick up where you left off.” 

“Deal.”

It felt like days had passed while you soaked in the heat of the tub. The world has sped by in a rush of sunlight and the salt air of crashing waves to the overwhelming dusk of night. 

You’d stayed so long inside the water your fingers ripened to raisins. Even then, you would’ve continued to stay housed inside the steam and heat until the aches and pains liquified into nothing. 

The training with Zoro had been welcome, but unexpected. It felt good to not be treated like fine china. As if the slightest tap or mention of your wounds that seemed to be taking longer to heal would rip you back open. It was starting to drive you mad. You were close to reminding them that you were…different. 

The question of just what and who you were unanswered. An unmistakable unanswered question with possibly no answers and then, like magic, Zoro showed up in your room demanding for you to train.

Both of you knew it was a compromise. One that didn’t need explanation. Since his vow in the tent, Zoro had made it very clear he meant every word. While he gave you space (sometimes too much of it) he was never far away from you. If you were tending to Nami’s tangerine trees, he was out on the upper deck, body relaxed and stretched like a cat soaking up the sun. The times he was training, he would stop and see where you were. 

No matter where you were on the ship, Zoro was drawn to find you. You weren't exactly sure how it was going to go when the Merry finally docked, but you could only imagine how fun that was going to be. 

Zoro taking the time to train you wasn’t meant for you, not really, anyway. It was a way for him to know, without a doubt, if you were ever separated, you would be safe. 

“I can’t lose you, Doc.”

The baritone of his voice felt heavier in the space between your rooms. You noticed it in the way his hand gripped the hilt of the Wado just a little too tightly. The muscles in his jaw grinding to a halt against his teeth. 

It had been this way since you’d been back on the Merry. The moment in your room a fading memory. You wanted to ask him why he never knocked again - why he never came back inside to finish what Luffy interrupted that day. 

Zoro’s lips claimed yours with the intensity of a fire and had left you to burn at their loss. 

As the days turned to a week and the week began another, the bruises and wounds began to heal. Some of them leave violent reminders of what you’d endured. The sob that had racked through your body like a great wave of grief echoed through you still as you looked at your back in the mirror. Ugly marks you knew would never fully go away; gnarled patches of flesh that told a story you wish you could forget. 

You hated your mind for telling you this was why Zoro never came back. Who would want to touch a broken thing?

“You can never lose me, Zoro.” Your reply was hushed, spoken to the space between your shoes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I almost lost you. Didn’t I?” There it was. The anger. The heat of an old fear that burned its way into something feral. “A few minutes longer,  midwife too short, and you wouldn’t be here and I would know a loss greater than any damn gods could fix.”

The memory of that moment trapped between your bedroom doors played on repeat in your mind as you stepped out of the bath. Your hands quickly grab a towel to wrap around yourself and make sure it was secure. 

You weren’t worried when you stepped out from behind the bathroom door if you would run into anyone. Dinner had long since been served, the late-night conversations all but died, and the quiet lap of water against the Merry was the only sound to greet you. Still, you couldn’t help but look both ways down the hallway before you made your way towards your room. 

You’d just made it to your door, hand on your doorknob, when the sudden cold air of a door - Zoro’s door - whooshing open made your body freeze in place. 

“It took you seventeen minutes longer than usual to get back to your room tonight. What’s going on?”

Never mind the fact that you were standing exposed in just a towel in the middle of the hallway. You could even disregard - maybe - the fact that Zoro was standing in the doorway to his room with his arm against the frame, shirtless (my god did he run out of clean shirts?!) with his usual carefully maintained hair looking like his fingers ran through it more than a few times. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice quipped on the word, “but have you been timing me?”

“Answer the question.”

“You answer my question first! And why are you just standing like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like -,” you waved a hand from his feet to his head for added emphasis, “- that.”

Zoro watched your hand as it flew around like a rather large fly on crack. If you were a gambling person, you might have placed a bet on the fact he found you very amusing right now. More amusing than you would’ve liked. 

“What does that even mean? How do you want me to stand?”

“Not like that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is me standing like this bothering you?”

You could practically feel your eyes narrowed to slits when he leaned deeper against the arm on the doorframe. The action making the muscles in his stomach become more pronounced and his pants sling lower against the deep V of his hips -

“You absolutely did that on purpose,” you seethed. 

You weren’t expecting him to take a step out from the safety of his door frame. That one step was all Zoro needed to completely take up the small space in the hallway leaving you with only two options: move back or stand your ground. Your body was screaming for you to pick the first option, but Naan didn’t raise a coward. So, when Zoro’s arm reached behind you to brace himself on your door, completely closing the space between you, you tried your absolute best to act like you were fine. 

You were very much aware you were only in a towel and Zoro was casually standing there in only a hastily thrown-on pair of pants. His face mere inches away from yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if he caught the sound of your heart thundering wildly in your chest or heard the very prominent, Fuck, that was bouncing through your head in time with your nerves. 

The desire Zoro stirred in you, that you’d buried down the last few weeks, came roaring back to the surface with a vengeance. You - he - was playing with fire and with every inch his body took into your space, you weren’t sure you’d have the strength to not plead for him to stay. Every second his body drew closer to yours, every cell in yours came to life with a need so violent it almost buckled you at the knees.

“You’re cute when you blush.” The whispered words hovered between you. His chest now pressed against the hand that clutched at the towel while he opened the door behind you. “Get inside.”

You couldn’t make your body move. You wanted to stay there enveloped in the heat of his body for just a few seconds more. The rising smirk in the corner of his mouth informing you that Zoro was very aware of this. 

“I’m not blushing.”

“Sure, you always walk around with a pink tint to your cheeks, Snowdrop,” he hummed. “Now get in.”

The use of your new pet name was what sent you walking back inside your room. It was different than when he called you by your nickname. His tone unbothered, as if he could be talking to anyone. It wasn’t as intimate as when he spoke your real name. The way his voice deepened and rolled your name off his tongue like it was his greatest sin. 

No. Snowdrop was soft. Innocent. Private. Just for him. 

You expected him to tell you good night before he shut the door. It was the nightly routine you’d come to expect. Zoro waiting in the purgatory between both of your rooms. Always present, but never crossing. You held your breath, waiting to hear the richness of his voice cascade down your spine as intimately as if he’d touched you. You watched him while you took a few more steps inside the safety of your room; eyes never wavering off him as your fist curled against the fabric of your towel. 

It wasn’t until he’d stepped inside, the door firmly closing behind him, that you realized this time was different. The only thing that helped quiet your racing heart was the uncertainty that laced itself into the crease of his brow. His eyes roaming over your towel-clothed figure as if he just realized it was all you wore. 

You wanted to go back to earlier this morning when you considered maiming him with a pillow. When Zoro was in the middle of being his usual strong silent type self who was ordering you around. You preferred it over a room that suddenly felt too small and unspoken words that left so much longing to hammer against your chest. 

Zoro ran a hand through his hair, somehow making it messier than it was a second ago, before tucking his hands into the safety of his pockets. Any other time it would’ve been innocent. At the weight of his fists, however, the stretch band at the waist gave way dipping lower to show the beginning peak of moss-green hair. 

Your body seemed to forget how to swallow. The action caused you to cough around a ball of spit that got caught in your throat. 

“Where do you keep the Alderberry?”

How could he ask questions right now? How could Zoro be so composed? You felt like you were three seconds away from combusting. 

“Why?”

The sound of his bare feet taking a cautious step forward sent your pulse spiking against your neck. Gods, please, don’t let him notice. 

But he was Roronoa Zoro. The Demon Pirate Hunter and soon to be the Greatest Swordsman who ever lived. Of course, he noticed. 

“I know Nami usually helps you put it on at night. You were in the bath so long she went to sleep.”

Damn. Just how long had you been hiding in the bath? 

Nami usually did help you every night. Her hands were the only ones you trusted to rub in the Alderberry ointment on the places you couldn’t reach. Your back being the biggest target area. There was a comfort in knowing only one person aboard the ship took inventory of every wound currently healing on your body. The way Nami teased how Zoro was probably seething in a jealous fit across the way knowing she was seeing more of you than he did. 

It was easy to take her playfulness and meet it with a dismissive one. Easy to pretend around the comfort of being in her presence that deep down you believe the opposite. 

And now here Zoro stood encapsulated in the darkness of your room. The only light came from the window of moonlight that cascaded like a kaleidoscope across his face and shoulders. All his usual carefully crafted composure, the ‘I don’t give a fuck,’ bravado that rolled off him in waves was stripped away. 

Here inside your room, Roronoa Zoro wasn’t the three-sword fighting style demon who terrified dozens of pirates. 

In your room, he was just a boy who looked at you like you’d hung the stars. 

“Oh,” you huffed out in a shaky breath, “Yeah, uhm, it’s over there on the middle shelf to the left.”

Zoro didn’t wait to see where you pointed. His feet padded over to one of the many shelves that lined the small room his eyes scooping out the shelf until they spotted a small circular tin. You’d painted a cluster of tiny Alderberries on the lid, and just that small detail alone sent a ghost of a smile to arch the corner of Zoro’s lips. 

“You know, you’re the only doctor I know who categorizes all of their medicine with pictures instead of labels.”

His voice barely registered as he spoke. The richness of his voice only seemed to grow deeper, gruffer, when he talked in hushed tones. You hated how your body reacted to the intimacy of the sound. Your eyes helplessly watched as he moved towards you, his fingertips slowly moving the cylinder of ointment between them. 

“I prefer my drawings to ugly labels.”

“But what if someone comes in and grabs the wrong one?”

“Well, I guess they better learn how to ask first before taking anything,” you chided. 

You tried your best to sound like Naan. The way she would scold you for trying to sneak sweets before dinner. It appeared that your attempt at sounding like an ornery old woman only succeeded in making him smile so big his teeth showed. Immediately, Zoro ducked his chin down towards his chest to try and hide it. 

It took every ounce of strength you had not to reach out to grab ahold of his chin and force him to give it back. 

“Alright, Snowdrop. Turn around for me.”

At the mention of showing him your back, your body went rigid. You hoped he didn’t notice, but it was Zoro. Of course, he noticed. 

And of course, he took it the wrong way. 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s probably easier having Nami -“

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly cut in. 

You tried to wave away his apologetic words. He had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t his fault you ended up with wounds like this, and it wasn’t his job to heal you. It just came down to the fear of rejection, the looks of pity or disgust, that kept you hostage inside your own head. 

With a shaky breath, you steeled yourself, turning to expose your back to him. Well, as exposed as it could be with the towel covering up past your shoulders. You waited in the heavy silence of the room with apprehension threatening to eat you alive as your eyes roamed the room. You examined every shelf, every strand of hanging flowers as if it was the first time you’d ever seen its contents. 

It felt like you were waiting forever for him to do something, anything, that you felt your nerves begin to buckle. At any minute, you would turn around and tell him nevermind. It was a kind gesture but maybe this was a mistake. You were in the middle of formulating a good enough excuse to give him when the warm pad of his palm on your shoulder sent you jumping out of your skin.

A chuckle rolled from deep in his chest, and you wanted to turn around and punch him. 

“You did that on purpose.”

“I seem to be doing a lot of things on purpose today.”

“If the shoe fits,” you grumbled.

You were prepared this time when his fingers touched down on your skin. Every nerve helplessly followed the path they took as they brushed the drying strands of wet hair out of the way. The calloused pads of his fingertips dipped underneath the fabric of the towel and gave it a small tug. 

“Relax.” 

Fuck. 

He breathed the word against your ear and you couldn’t keep the soft gasp from escaping from between your lips. You prayed the moonlight from your window didn’t show him the goosebumps that one word had elicited across your skin. Your body was a traitor who answered the roaming pads of his hands with a heat that pooled low in the pit of your stomach. 

There was no denying your pulse was thundering beneath your skin, and you wondered if Zoro could see it. If the tips of his fingers felt it as they mapped down from your throat and moved to push the towel low, and lower until he had the cloth down to the middle of your back. His index and middle fingers ran down the length of your spine and your body involuntarily shuddered against him. 

No longer did you care about ointments or salves. You wanted - needed - him to touch you. If Zoro needed to hear you plead and beg, if it was enough for him to release the growing pressure that was building between your legs, you would gladly do it. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sharp whistle of air sliding between his teeth that you remembered what it was he was looking at. You tried to draw the towel back up, to turn back around to face him, but Zoro’s strong hand on your shoulders kept you rooted in place. 

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t have to do this. I appreciate it, but I know it can be a lot - “

“- Doc.” 

“I can go a night without the ointment. Really, Zoro, it's fine.”

“Will you shut up for one second and just talk to me?”

If he could see your face right now he would know you were more than a little confused on how to go about answering that question. 

“Ugh, how am I supposed to simultaneously talk and shut up at the same time?”

He let out a sigh and you felt his forehead drop between your shoulder blades. 

“Poor choice of words,” he groaned.

“I would have to agree.”

“Doc -“

“Zoro?”

Yes, you knew you were being a pain in the ass but, to be incredibly fair, so was he. At the feeling of his teeth nipping at the skin of your back, you tried to swing an elbow back and was rewarded with him simply holding you in place. 

“Be good.”

“Says the one that just bit me.”

Another sigh and his forehead found a home between your shoulders. As if you were the only pain in the ass in this relationship. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

No. 

How could you? It felt like too much and yet, not enough all at once. You didn’t want to tell him that the minute you’d heard him suck in a breath, no doubt from looking at your exposed back, it felt like all your worst fears were real. Zoro finally took one look at some of the damage - damage that replayed throughout your body - and thought the same thing as you. 

You were ruined.

You knew you were still healing. Wounds like these…they took time. No ointment, herb, treatment, or the magic that was scattered across the whole wide ocean would fix you up in a matter of days. So, why did you feel so ugly? So undeserving? 

How did you tell anyone that, when you looked in the mirror, you no longer saw yourself but the monster Arlong created. 

“I know it’s a lot to…look at. I appreciate you wanting to do this for me, Zoro, but I understand if it’s too much. If it’s too ugly.”

You anticipated the feeling of his body removing itself from yours. You counted the seconds and prepared your heart to be ready for the rejection you already thought was coming. It was too much to ask, to look at someone so damaged, and love them like they were whole. 

His answer came with the press of his lips against the hollow of your throat. A sound between a moan and gasp left you. Your mind trying to make sense of the sensation as he gently left another a few inches lower. 

You both stood trapped and unmoving in place. Your back facing him with his mouth hovering over your skin. His breath ghosted over your skin causing you to shiver against his chest. A hand held on to your waist, while the other held you at your shoulder. His thumb worked its way between the towel and your skin, slowly getting you to release the tight hold you kept on the fabric. 

The hushed sound of your name - reverent and full of sin - brushed against your ear. You tried to fight off a shiver but felt your body shake in his hands. The anticipation brought to life an all too familiar ache for his touch. You’d become accustomed to that specific need since the moment you’d met. 

To be coveted the way he coveted his swords; an extension of who he was. 

You didn’t fight him as his fingers gently worked the towel back down. You didn’t try and hide again as his fingers caressed down the exposed skin and stopped at the median of your back. Zoro’s fingers delicately worked over the indents of healing flesh; traced over jagged lines of cuts that zigzag up and at odd angles. He touched them like he was committing each slight against your flesh to memory. 

“Doc,” his lips pressed against your throat. “You’re perfect.”

You bit down on your lip to contain a sob. Your chest heaved as his fingers found their way up to the place you hated the most. Where Arlong branded you and, where later, he’d branded you again with fire and metal. 

“What’s this?”

You didn’t have to see him to know Zoro’s brow had creased together in curiosity. If he’d seen it before the molten poker that’d been placed across your skin, he’d know what the tattoo originally was. 

“It was a brand from Arlong to show ownership - that I was part of the crew. I belonged to him.” Zoro’s hand grew still as you spoke. The hand on your hip gripping you so tight you were sure there would be bruises. “That’s what it was until they…they took something metal - a poker or something - to my back.”

A few moments passed before you felt his thumb gently move over the healing skin. You followed the path they took, inching upwards, closer and closer to what was there now. 

“This looks like…”

Zoro didn’t finish his sentence. His words edged with a softness until they faded between you. The realization of what it was now stilled his thumb from tracing over it again. 

“Like a snowdrop,” you finished for him. “It is. After - after everything, Nojiko came by the hut. She told me she fixed Nami’s tattoo and offered to fix mine. I didn’t know what else to pick so…”

His thumb traced the outline of the flower across your skin. A shiver rippled through you but it wasn’t from the cold. Your room suddenly felt too quiet and it left you feeling exposed. Surely, Zoro knew the only reason why you picked it. A good memory to try and wash out all the bad. 

The silence was becoming unbearable. You didn’t know what to say next to fix it, but you had to say - do - something or else you would go mad. 

“Zoro -“

All words, all thought, ceased the minute the hand that had gripped your hip pushed you back against him. Gone were the small inches of distance Zoro created at your back.  The desire that had been building, that you tried to ignore, flared to life between you. 

A hunger like you never experienced before washed over your skin. It only grew more ravenous as Zoro gave one final, violent tug on the towel, ripping it free from your hands and tossed it to the floor. It left you open, exposed, to the room. 

To him.

He didn’t give you time to try and recover any modesty. 

Zoro’s hand that was at your waist snaked up to wrap an arm around your middle keeping you pinned against him. The other that had traced the outline of your snowdrop tattoo drifted up to grab a hold of your chin. Gently, he used it to crane your neck to the side leading your mouth to his. 

Zoro’s lips brushed against yours tentatively, with caution, as if he applied too much pressure you might run. It only earned him a needy breath that dipped in your chest. The motion causes the fingertips of the hand at your waist to skim the soft skin. 

It was such a light touch - innocent - except it wasn’t. 

A moan rushed past your lips, and all that careful restraint Zoro prided himself for evaporated along with his control.

The gentle fingers that cupped your chin now pressed firmly against your throat, craning your head back to rest against his shoulder. The angle allowed him to place a bruising kiss on your lips. His tongue broke the soft seal your lips created between you to stroke across yours; coaxing you to deepen the kiss and devour you from the mouth down. 

One minute the hand at your throat was there, commanding, keeping you where he wanted and the next it glided down your chest. The pads of his fingers skimmed over a breast, teasing your nipple before he trapped it between his thumb and index finger. You pressed yourself back against him, your body grinding, straining, for any sort of friction to relieve the growing ache he made between your legs. 

Gods, you could barely think past the wanton sob that crawled its way up your throat. The sound hummed against your shared kiss in a plea against Zoro’s mouth. He answered with a growl that seared his ownership across your skin. 

Your senses were flooded with him. His touch was electric and overwhelming and you found yourself clutching onto him like a woman drowning. You laced your fingers in his hair to try and anchor yourself, but when a digit of his own slid between your folds your knees buckled. 

Zoro held you firmly to him. Easily holding up your weight as the pad of his finger rubbed a lazy slow circle over your clit. A moan tore your lips apart as you rocked against him. You barely registered the soft nip of his teeth on your shoulder when that finger, slick with your arousal, pushed itself inside you.

Another throaty moan filled your room. The sound echoed relentlessly off the walls with each thrust of his wrist. You scrambled to find an anchor - to find something to keep you present. But the desire that crushed you, made you open your legs wider for him, to fuck you deeper, spread you wider, refused to be held down. Your nails dig into his forearm in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded. 

You never felt so wanton before - so ravenous. Your hips beginning to move on their own. Hungrily meeting each thrust of his fingers with a rock of your hips pushing the digit deeper inside you. 

“My good girl,” Zoro purred against your ear. “You can take another finger for me, can’t you?”

You weren’t sure if you could trust your voice. Your tongue wetting your lips as you gave him a nod. Zoro didn’t wait for you to do anything else. On the next thrust, you felt a sear of pain, just enough to rend a gasp from your throat that transformed into a moan. 

You felt so full. So incredibly full as his fingers moved against your walls, pushing deeper, curling, and reaching until they found something that turned your next moan into a stuttering breath. Zoro felt it too. The way your walls tightened around him. The muscles in your legs struggled to keep from buckling. His thumb moved circles around your clit and you tried to be quiet. Truly, you did. 

But the pressure was building. The heat low in your belly expanding - threatening to explode. 

“Zoro,” you panted out his name. 

A plea. Praise. Worship. All or none of it you weren’t sure. But he answered his name with his teeth claiming the skin of your shoulder and biting down just enough that the pain blended in with the pleasure. 

“Come for me,” he demanded. Your name left his mouth like a man in rapture. “Be my good girl and come for me.”

With another flick of his thumb - a stroke of his fingers - you felt that molten heat that’d been growing between your legs erupt. An explosion of white behind your eyes as you bucked back against him. His arm held you steady until your orgasm began to subside. 

Slowly, Zoro removed his fingers from between your thighs - fingers and hand slick. With his arm still securely wrapped around your waist, he moved you towards the bed. When your knees touched down on the mattress, you turned to look up at him. Your hands went grabbing at the hem of his jeans. 

“We don’t have to -“ he started.

The hand not coated in your arousal grabbed at your wrist to stop you. You kept your eyes on him as your fingers undid a button and moved on to the zipper. 

“Please.” Your voice was raw. Overused. But you would use it to beg him if it got you what you wanted. “I need to feel you inside me, Zoro. I -“

Zoro didn’t give you a chance to finish. His answer came in the form of a growl. His hands pushed you down onto the mattress as he finished removing himself of his jeans. He braced one knee on the frame of the bed. A hand beside your head as he moved himself between your legs. 

His hand hooked itself beneath your knee and brought your thigh to rest against his hip. You could feel the weight of his cock - warm and heavy - on your stomach. The apprehension of the unknown - would it hurt? - weighed heavy in your thoughts for a moment. A searing kiss from Zoro quickly tore it away as he easily moved further up the bed. Your thigh still held tightly to his hip. 

Zoro reached down between the length of your bodies, his hand grabbing his cock to align with your entrance. He dragged the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your orgasm, and teasing your swollen clit. A moan tore your lips and, at this moment, Zoro pushed inside you. 

The sear of pain was immediate as your cunt stretched to accommodate him. Zoro was thick - so impossibly thick. With each thrust, the feeling of fullness grew. His hips worked slowly - in and out - coating his length, inch by aching inch with your arousal. 

“You okay?”

You hadn’t realized you’d screwed your eyes shut tight until he’d spoken. When you opened them it took you a second to tell he’d stopped. His body suspended above you, eyes searching your face, waiting for you to tell him what to do. 

Your head was already shaking before you found your voice. A soft, “yes,” fills the intimate space between you. You reached up to place your hand on his cheek, your thumb tracing over his lips as he’d done with your tattoo, before saying it again. 

“Don’t stop.”

You pulled him down into a kiss as he pulled out just enough to slide back in. Another moan vibrated across your lips, but neither of you pulled away. With one final thrust, you felt him bottom out inside you. It was Zoro this time who broke his lips away from yours. A guttural moan, half-desperate, collapsed from his chest. 

And then he was a man undone. His hips recklessly fucking into you. His fingers in your hair. His lips pressed half-breathed kisses along your jaw. Slowly, with each thrust of his hips, the pain ebbed away and all that was left was the fullness. His cock stroking your walls and fingers bruising your thighs as he found a relentless rhythm. 

Soon, the earlier pressure you’d felt began to build again. Zoro’s own breathing growing ragged as he fucked up into you. With each stroke of his cock, the pressure built and built until you forgot how to breathe. Your walls clenching tight around him. 

Zoro’s hand reached up, lashing out violently, to grab the headboard. You heard the faint sound of wood splinting but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Your muscles were shaking, tightening, and with the next stroke that sent your body scooting up the bed, you came undone beneath him. Zoro spilling inside you as your cunt squeezed around him.His own breathing hoarse, jagged, and fingers tightening with a bruising force into your hip. 

Zoro collapsed on top of you and you were reminded of how heavy he was. Like an avalanche crumbled around you in the form of a moss-haired oaf. 

So much for the afterglow. 

“Zoro,” you wheezed, your hand tapping his shoulder frantically. “Zoro, you - you gotta move. You're heavy.”

You were aware he was still sheathed inside you - that he didn’t seem to be moving any time soon. A grumble came at your neck tickling the skin. It earned him another smack to his shoulder as you rasped, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop talking into my neck.”

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“It tickles.”

Silence followed your admission. You weren’t sure what kind of…etiquette came after…being intimate. Were you supposed to rub his back? Pat it? No, that felt too much like telling someone, ‘Good game’. What you settled on felt worse. You drummed your fingers on his shoulder.

“Doc.”

“Yeah?”

“Relax.”

Your fingers stilled at his words. You didn’t know where else to look except up. The ceiling wasn’t really brimming with things to help keep you occupied either, which is how you ended up humming a tune. You were midway through the chorus when a gust of hot air hit your neck. 

Zoro grumbled as he moved his arms beside you, slowly lifting himself up until he was hovering over you. Gods, you didn’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t stop the sheepish smile from curling your lips as your finger waved a, “Hello,” at him.

Zoro shook his head, maybe to hide the smile you won at your antics, but also because you were being, well, you. He unsheathed himself from between your legs (was it supposed to immediately ache like this?) and settled down beside you. 

Lifting up his arm, Zoro waited for you to scoot closer before settling it across your shoulders, pulling you in close to his chest. You wanted to inform him that he was a very firm pillow. You wanted to say a lot of things. A part of you not knowing if it was anxiety that was making you overthink or -

There was no mistaking the heavy sigh that came a few seconds later. With your chin planted on his chest, you glanced up and noticed that Zoro’s eyes were closed, or they were, that is until they opened. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

You turned to face his stomach, your cheek resting on an incredibly perky chest and tried to pretend your teeth weren’t worrying away at your lip. 

“Doc -“

“Okay, fine,” you huffed, rising up on your elbow. “I was just wondering: can we have sex? Again?”

The high sound of his laugh, rich and innocent and joyful bounced around the room. You wished you could bottle this moment forever and live inside it. 

“When?”

“Now would be nice. Unless, you know, you’re too tired.” 

You tried to appear innocent as you looked up at him. By the way, his eyes narrowed in on your face, you probably looked anything but innocent. 

“Oh, I’ll be just fine. It’s you I’ll be worried about.”

“And why is that?”

“We have training bright and early in the morning.”

“Absolutely no- !”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before Zoro rolled you over. His hips settled between your thighs, and with one swift thrust had your argument dying with a moan from your lips. 

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

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back-burner | 01

sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff

WARNINGS. one-sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, alcohol consumption, drunk rambling

WORDS. 2.8k

NOTE. hey ya'll!!! sorry for being a lil MIA 😓 things have gotten super busy recently but I managed to whip out a lil wip and plan for a lil drabble series hehe. I'll probably add the tags along the way so it's hard to say where this will go lol but I hope you enjoy!!

unedited :-( !!!!

back-burner masterlist | next chapter

"You're staring again."

Jeon Jungkook is a lot of things. Capable, talented, your self-proclaimed best friend, a multi-faceted nursing student, and handsome. What he wasn't, however, was helpful.

"Wow, thank you for letting me know. It's as if these aren't my own eyes that are doing said staring you speak off," you snap sarcastically, tipping the last bit of vodka and rum down your throat as you wince at the burn.

"That smart-ass mouth isn't going to shift reality," he retorts, snatching your glass away as you glare at him.

"Haven't you heard of manifestation? Speak it into existence, they say," you babble on, mumbling to yourself as you slump further down the plush leather seats.

The gala was beautiful, as usual. Rich and accomplished people alike were mingling with one another while their charming smiles reflected off marble surfaces to highlight their apparent brightness. It was both blinding and exhausting to constantly be surrounded by such greatness, especially to a point where people approached you thinking that you were equally as capable of it.

You weren't, and you don't think you'd ever be.

"Hm, sure." Jungkook rolls his eyes at you dismissively before he considers your words with his eyes looking upwards thoughtfully. "Maybe if you actually acknowledged your feelings then something could happen."

You scowl, drowning yourself lower to a point where your face is nearly squashed under the weight of your shoulders, your face morphed into an expression that's commonplace for you. You don't acknowledge the disapproving stares that a few of these socialites give you when they pass you, affronted to witness a woman like yourself allow herself to look as loose-ended as you were.

"Who says I'm not acknowledging it?"

"No one," Jungkook blinks before he's turning to where your line of vision ends, and you're bitterly reminded of what he was referring to when your eyes settle on them once more. "But the fact Yoongi's clinking glasses with Haerin in hand says something."

"So?" you snap, shifting back into a comfortable position before you're waving a waiter down for more booze. "They can do whatever they want."

"And if that's each other?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

You stomp on his foot as he yelps, sending you a lethal glare while you return his gesture with a sickly plastic smile. You don't bother listening when Jungkook begins muttering curses under his breath, and neither do you care about Yoongi or Haerin and how beautiful they looked together. Or how your heart was never with you when he was around, always two steps further than where it should've been. No. You don't care.

Jungkook pushes himself off the seat before shooting you one last once-over accompanied with a deep sigh before he's retreating to where the rest of his peers lay. You had no qualms of him leaving you, in fact, you appreciated the space. You rather be alone now, anyway.

"Another vodka and rum, please," you request from the waiter that bends ever so slightly to catch your order.

"Again, Miss ____?"

You don't appreciate the look of surprise on the waiter's face. You don't even remember if you've ordered from him previously, but the fact that he's sending you very judgemental eyes tell you enough; and your booze-hazed mind sends your mouth running before you can think of giving the man a break.

"Listen, Steve, my father didn't rent out this entire venue for you to micromanage my drinking habits, okay?" Your eyes narrow at him while his eyes widen.

"No Miss, that's not what—"

"Not what you meant?" you snort, "Come on. I've heard better. Just give me my damn alcohol and—!"

"Sorry, Steve." A voice interrupts apologetically as you recognise it immediately. Your body tingles with warmth at the low baritone of your newly joined guest, but you're still a little too drunk to comprehend it. "I'll take care of her."

Steve leaves, bowing apologetically before shooting you an annoyed expression that you think was meant to be kept to himself. You're just about to climb out of your seat to give him a piece of your mind before a large hand wraps around your waist to drag you back to your seat.

"What the—?"

"Having fun?" When you look up, Yoongi's shooting you an amused smile. It's nothing ostentatious, but it's Yoongi. A little cold but genuine nevertheless. You hate that despite your alcohol-fueled mind, your heart still flutters.

"Go away, Yoongi," you grumble.

"Can't do," he chuckles before he's releasing his grip around you.

You scoff. "Go away. I don't need you micromanaging me either."

"Not micromanaging," he hums, right as he occupies the vacant seat that Jungkook's left. "I care about your liver."

"Do you," you sneer.

"Matter of fact, I do. And so do your parents so I'm doing them a favour by not giving them a heart attack when they find out you're hospitalised because you had alcohol poisoning," he says pointedly as you scowl, "Did you even eat?"

"Yes," you lie.

"An entré from two hours ago doesn't count," he deadpans.

You sigh before you're glaring at him through your drunken eyes.

Yoongi doesn't look mad. You don't think he's capable of being anything but the tempered person he was. Rather, he looks amused, as if your clear distaste for his assistance humoured him than annoyed him like any other person. But Yoongi wasn't like everyone else. You disliked people in general and you didn't like Yoongi.

And unfortunately for your stupid, puny heart, it was the exact opposite of what you felt.

"Come on," he urges you with an extended hand, "You got to eat."

"Who are you, my dad?" you groan.

Yoongi levels you with an unimpressed look before he's making an effort to wrap his palm around your arm himself. You shiver at the contact, distracting yourself from the way your heart stammers in your chest to shoot a menacing glare at the man before you.

"No, I'm your friend and I care about you," he says easily before he's bringing you up with him when he stands up.

You yelp, dizzy on your feet as you stumble into his chest. Yoongi already has his arms extended, prepared for your inebriated stance when his palms rest on your waist to balance you out. He's warm. Cosy like your favourite blanket while all you wanted to do was snuggle deeper into his embrace. But when you peer up at him and see his concerned stare, one that was undoubtedly platonic, you feel yourself scowling at the harsh reality check.

"Aren't you busy?" you sneer bitterly, cocking your head to the side from where you remembered him and Haerin engaged in a rather amorous discussion.

"With your sister?" he raises a brow, "Your father called her over."

You scoff.

Of course. The only reason he was here and the only reason he ever spoke to you was that your sister wasn't available. It was always as if you were the second option, a convenient emblem to gravitate towards when he couldn't get the real thing. It was a bitter thought, that you only ever knew of Yoongi because of Haerin.

You would never be anything more than what you currently were to him.

Yoongi was older than you, as old as your older sister and that meant you watched him graduate before you, get his drivers license before you, attend prom before you. All of the things that you considered milestones in your life. And the worst part was that he did it all with Haerin by his side. The proof of their blooming friendship was there in the pictures of her room, on her social media pages and the friendly relations that both your families had with each other.

You first met Yoongi after a particularly strenuous day in middle school. You were just getting to know the concept of teenage angst and responsibilities when you came back home, exhausted from the load of homework your teachers had assigned you right before your final exams.

Haerin was already at the dinner table at that time, caught up in her senior assignments while she typed away on her laptop.

That time, Yoongi appeared.

You remember stopping in your tracks when you spotted the new guest, dark fringe covering his forehead while a beanie rested on his head. He had a large hoodie on that covered his rather narrow build, but he was still taller than you and your sister. You didn't know who he was, but you weren't blind. He was gorgeous. The prettiest boy you've ever seen and you befriended enough band kids throughout your life at that point.

When Haerin notices you awkwardly hovering by the door, only does she offer you a small smile as a greeting.

"Hey." It's friendly enough, but when she looks over to Yoongi, then to you, you gulp. "This is Yoongi. We're working on a project together."

When Yoongi finally looks up, his eyes are warm and friendly, but they hold a rather cold edge to them. One that sends a shudder down your spine as you quickly blurt out an introduction of your own before you're scampering off to your room.

From then on, the rest was history.

You and Yoongi grew closer the more Haerin and his friendship bloomed. What started as a group project eventually blossomed into a friendship that they labelled as 'forever'. Yoongi was always kind to you, offered to drop you off places, gave you advice when you were the one dealing with senioritis; explained 'adult' concepts like taxes and insurance to you when you were curious; fixed the engine in your car for you when it failed you in the middle of nowhere, and he even was the one that accompanied you to get your wisdom teeth extracted.

Yoongi wasn't just Haerin's best friend, but yours too. The difference was that the two of them were clearly more than that while you were forced to watch.

So when you return back to reality, eyes slightly unfocused when they rest on Yoongi's face, you're disgruntled in the reminder of where you stood, and who you were to him.

"Of course," you say with an eye-roll before you're pushing yourself off of him, "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

Yoongi frowns at your stubbornness, especially when your words don't ring true when you take a shaky step away from him, ready to establish distance. Your head still spins but you rather get away from everything when you were loose-lipped than have Yoongi hold his friendship with Haerin over your head like a silent victory.

"Clearly not," he sounds displeased when his hand wraps around your bicep to turn around, "You're drunk."

"And you're being annoying," you snap, "Just—go—back."

You emphasise your points by shoving your finger into his chest, and now when your rage clears your mind ever so slightly, you nearly groan at how devastatingly handsome he looks tonight.

Suits complimented Yoongi's physique beautifully. Especially ones where his dress shirt was tucked in his pants, paired with a silver-toned belt that cinched his waist. The goddamn YSL black blazer that drapes over his shoulder only makes him broader, and you curse the Gods above for making him frequent the gym more recently.

"Don't be stubborn," he sighs, tightening his grip on your bicep.

"Don't be pushy," you throw your words back, huffing while you scowl at him.

"You're drunk," he reminds you gruffly, "Your sister would kill me if I let you go off like this."

And there it was.

You shove his grip off you with as much force as you can as you seethe. Yoongi's eyes widen at your blatant display of strength, especially when your eyes are livid when they rest on his stunned expression.

"Of course you're doing this for Haerin," you scoff bitterly while Yoongi just looks confused. "Guess what, Yoongi? I don't want you doing shit for me because you feel obliged to my sister to take care of her little sister. I'm responsible for myself and not for this hero complex you have, or if you want to impress her. Go fuck yourself and leave me alone."

"What are you saying," he says levelly, unimpressed.

This is the first time you've seen Yoongi look rather ... displeased.

Sure, he's looked annoyed before. He was only human. But this expression on Yoongi looks nearly blazing, and if you were any soberer, you'd drop it. But you weren't, and your mouth moves at its own accord.

"What I'm saying is that you have your head so far up her ass that you don't see anything in front of you!" you exasperate, throwing your hands up in the air. You're mildly aware that your voice is rising and that a few other people were beginning to take notice of your developing argument with Yoongi.

"Listen, let me take you home and—"

You interrupt him with a deprecating laugh, mostly to yourself as you shake your head in disappointment.

"Are you stupid? Do you not know how to take no for an answer?" you ask in disbelief, and Yoongi actually glares at you at your clear jibe at him.

"____, don't test me," he warns.

You snort, waving him off just as you see Jungkook enter your peripheral. Your friend looks rather alarmed and he's making his way over in a hurry, but you're quick with your words.

"Ooh. I'm so scared," you pout, peering up at him through your eyelashes before you're rolling your eyes at Yoongi's stone-faced expression. "Fuck off, Yoongi. Go back to my sister because that's clearly where you belong."

"____—" you hear Jungkook approach you with worry, voice a pitched higher before he's attempting to intercept your and Yoongi's conversation.

"I can deal with it," Yoongi says bluntly.

"Hyung, she's drunk and she's not in her—"

"Oh, I know. But whatever she wants to say to me she can say it to my face," Yoongi laughs tightly before you're scoffing at him.

Jungkook looks panicked, eyes darting in-between the both of you as you find power in driving Yoongi up the wall. Especially when this is the first time you've ever seen him anything less than composed.

"Really? Let me start, then," you smile plastically.

"Do enlighten me," Yoongi blinks.

"Guys I think—"

"You're an annoying asshole," you sneer, poking his chest while your eyes stay trained on his unchanging expression. "You act like you care about me when all you really care about is making yourself look like a good man in front of my sister."

"You're drunk—!" Jungkook hisses, squeezing your shoulder in warning as you drunkenly shove his hand off of you.

Yoongi remains blank in his face and that only irks you even more.

"You always come in and rescue me when you think I need saving but you don't care if I get into trouble! You never do! All the shit you do is cause—cause you want to fuck my sister, want to be this big macho saviour—"

"Okay, that's enough," Jungkook snaps, clamping a mouth over your mouth as you thrash in his hold.

The look on Yoongi's face is menacing. Your eyes widen when you note that it's terrifying that he doesn't move an inch, not even when his eyes slowly drift onto Jungkook's figure attempting to silence your muffled shouts under his palm.

People are staring, but you couldn't care less. Not when Yoongi raises one lone brow that has you shuddering.

"Let her go, Jungkook."

Jungkook freezes, and you take that moment of weakness to bite his hand as he yelps and retreats his palm.

"Ha! See? You're trying to embody this alpha male character," you snort as you feel Jungkook melt helplessly behind you.

"Am I," Yoongi blinks, unamused.

"Duh," you say obviously before rolling your eyes. "You know what. Just fuck right out of here and leave me alone. Let me know if you get into my sister's pants for what you did to me, yeah?"

"Follow me."

Jungkook freezes. You freeze.

And it's all because Yoongi has never sounded like that before.

Like he's threatening you.

"W-What?" you stammer, eyes rapidly blinking.

"We're going to talk," he says calmly, taking a deep breath before he's turning on his feet.

His back is turned to you when you gawk at him. "W-What makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"

Yoongi stops for just a beat, hands stuffed in his pockets when the silence quite literally makes your throat dry.

"Because ..." he says in a low tone as you feel your breath hitch, "The shit I'm going to say and do to you isn't going to be in front of an audience."

He throws you a cold look over your shoulder as you nearly cower at his gaze alone.

When he strides forward, you feel compelled to follow. And you hate that your mind decides that you are.

When you turn to Jungkook, he's as pale as you are, but all he can offer is a weak pat to your shoulder.

"Good fucking luck."