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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago

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Could you do a smutty Eddie Munson fic where he’s your older brother’s bsf?

maybe reader has had a crush on Eddie for a while and when she finally decides to move on and date someone Eddie gets jealous?

What Eddie Doesn’t Know | Eddie x f!reader

AN: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took a while to complete. Thank you for the request; I haven’t been inspired by anything non-Christmas-themed in a while. I was literally barking at the trope.

wc: 7.1k oops

Cw: f!reader, reader is 19 and in collage and Eddie is 22 and a full time mechanic, reader goes by a nickname, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, angst, cheating (on the reader but not by Eddie), smut (pet names, oral, dirty talk, p in v), the fluffy ending!

Pathetic. That was how you felt at this moment in time. Here you were at your college homecoming party, and all you could do was be a wallflower, watching in self-pity as the love of your life. ( who doesn’t know is the love of your life) is pressed up on some girl in the back of the room.

"What are you doin' here, Tink?" you pop out of your daze to see your older brother, Adam, addressing you.

Did your parents name you Tink? No. Were you so obsessed with Peter Pan as a child you demanded to go by Tinkerbell? Yes. The nickname kinds just stuck.

"I go here?" You sass him back.

"This party is for upperclassmen only. How did you get in?" Adam was only three years older.

"Eddie's here, and he doesn't even attend school..." You gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah, cuz he is my best friend... like I said, how did you get in?"

"It's a house party, not Studio 54... I walked in."

"I'm going to kill Cory," He mumbled under his breath. Cory was supposed to be manning the door.

"Yeah, you should definitely get better security, all I had to do was let him feel up my tits, and we walked right on in..."

The Neanderthal didn't actually touch you, but the look on Adam's face when you let Adam believe he did? Priceless. You only lied so Adam would leave you alone.

What actually happened was you, Nancy, and Robin scaled the fence and got in through the back door.

"Cory!" Before you knew it, Adam was out of your hair, and you were back to being a wallflower….

"Tink there you are! You wanna continue to mope in the corner, or do you wanna get out of here?" your two best friends/roomies, Robin and her girlfriend Nancy, approach you.

"I guess let's just go." you sigh.

You can no longer bear the sight of Eddie, the boy you've been crushing on since the sixth grade, and your older brother’s best friend, leading the random girl up the stairs hand in hand.

Your stomach lurched at the thought of her hands running all over his body, how he would be on her, kissing her... inside of her. He didn't even know you were here... You should have gone up to him, maybe said hello. Perhaps he would have seen the ridiculous amount of effort you put into your ensemble just to catch his eye. But your efforts were lacking because, to him, you're always going to be Adam's annoying little sister.

You knew you had to get over this, but how could you? He has been in your life for fifteen years and always will be. Adam and Eddie have been friends for as long as you can remember. Your brother stuck by him throughout Eddie's family struggles. Your parents even took him in for a few weeks before CPS found his uncle took over full custody. He was basically your big brother, too, until your pesky teenage hormones started to kick in, and boom! You've been head over heels ever since.

''Good, let's get some greasy burgers and fries to end the night, ok?" Robin smiled.

In the 24-hour diner on campus, you were sitting at your regular booth with the girls across from you, eating your feelings, trying not to think about what Eddie was doing with that girl.

"So that party was a bust, huh?" Nancy spoke first.

"Yeah, totally... probably because Adam's house hosted." You giggled.

"Not to mention Eddie still didn't see you -OUCH." Robin looked over at Nancy, who was giving her a look of distaste. "Sorry, I meant he is an idiot, and you need to get over him! There are plenty of eligible guys on campus who you could date!"

"Even though my girlfriend is being is harsh, she is right, Tink. It's been so long, and you'll kill yourself over this if you keep this up."

"Ugh, I know! Do you think I'm a masochist or something? I hate to break it to you, but I do not enjoy this. I hate it. I hate that he is the one I think about every day when I wake up. I hate it when I go to sleep; he is the last person on my mind. He takes over my thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it!" You shove a fry into your mouth so you can take a breather.

"What if we found you a new guy? Someone to take your mind off Eddie?" Nancy perked up at her idea.

You heard the diner doorbells chime from behind you.

"I don't know..." Putting all your time and energy into someone new seemed like a lot of emotional work you wanted to avoid going through.

"Yes! Oh my god, Tink, you have to. It's the only way you'll get over him!"

"Get over who?" The silky, sweet voice of a male came from behind you.

You and the girls froze as Eddie, your brother, and a few other guys approached the table.

"No one." You mumbled, trying to fight off the blood rushing across your chest and cheeks.

"You can tell us, Tink! Who are we fighting?" Eddie laughed.

"Tink? What kind of stupid name is that?" one of Adam's jerk friends spoke.

"Excuse me?" you turn to see the guy you've never met.

You heard Adam burst out laughing with the rest of them, but not Eddie.

"Hey man, not cool!" Eddie stood up for you.

And there went the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie was always your protector. Even as kids, when Adam picked on you, he always stood up for you. Even if you weren't around, Eddie always put Adam in his place when it came to you.

You saw, out of the corner of your eye, Eddie shifted his weight down so he could sit beside you. Then, you felt a protective arm wrap around your shoulder.

Fuck. This shit right here is why you can never get over Eddie Munson.

You dared to look up; there he was in all his glory. The way the fluorescent light from above had cast down on him made him look like an angel. He smiled at you, but not before you noticed the dishevelled sex hair he tried to fix and the small amount of pink lipstick that stained the skin on his neck that he didn't quite get off. And the smell… sickly sweet perfume that was definitely not his signature musk.

You quickly turn your head back to your plate because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested…

"You, if you don't leave us alone." Robin piped up. She saw the look of pure disappointment in your eyes. You didn't need Eddie to rub in the fact that he hooked up with someone, especially since now he is smelling like a cheap hooker.

Robin and Nancy thought it was incredibly rude of your brother to flaunt Eddie in front of you like this. Of course, he knew your mega super infinity crush on his best friend. Yet here he is with his drunk-ass buddies, antagonizing you about the guy you needed to get over.

"Woah, Birdie, take it easy; we are just saying hello," Adam chimed in.

“You said hello at the party. Now leave!” You gritted through your teeth.

“You were at the party?” Eddie asked. His voice hitched high. High enough, it was embarrassingly so. Thankfully, his friends were too drunk and hungry to realize. A deep blush crossed his face when he saw you noticed the tone in his voice change. You just have a slight nod and continue to play with the food on your plate.

That’s why you were so dressed up. Eddie thought you looked so pretty, too pretty to be sad about some looser in a diner at one in the morning.

"Do we have a problem here?" A voice none of you recognized came from the booth beside you.

You all look over and see a cute guy with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing your school's rugby jersey. He was so not your type, but you can still admire beauty for what it is. He was a jock; that was clear as he stood up. He was big, more significant than your brother and Eddie, that's for sure.

"Nah, man, it's cool. This is my little sister and her friends." Adam slurs. Clearly, he had more shots since he left you to find Cory.

"I don't care who you are. You're clearly bothering them."

"It's okay, they were just leaving," Nancy said confidently.

"Whatever, let's go, guys," Adam commanded the pac, but Eddie lingered. He didn't like this blondie guy. He didn't like the way he was looking at you.

"Ed, come on!'

Eddie got up and slowly made his way to his friends.

"I'm Jesse," Eddie heard the musclehead speak, and he cringed internally. Something wasn't right. The feelings of anger and protectiveness were filling his mind.

Eddie looked back again and saw you smelling at the stranger as he reached out to shake your hand before sitting beside you.

What kind of freak is alone in a diner at 1:15 am? Eddie thought.

But it didn't seem to phase you or the girls; you were all blinded by his shiny hair and pearly white smile.

Eddie walked out and felt like he wanted to punch something. He needed to get away. He needed to know what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you the one causing him distress? You were just Tink? Or so Eddie thought.

Jesse turned out to be really cool. You exchanged numbers, and he asked you to go to the movies next Friday. You hadn’t been on a date in forever; you had been so hung up on Eddie that any other guy seemed uninteresting. But this time, you were determined that Jesse would be the one to break the cycle. He was much different than you’re generally into, but you have some of the same interests, like movies and music, so you thought you’d go for it.

Jesse picked you up, bought the tickets, and insisted on buying the snacks and drinks. He held your hand and then slowly made his way to wrap his arm around your shoulder. It gave you butterflies you hadn’t felt from anyone else. Before you knew it, you willingly leaned in to make out with him in the back of the theatre.

You were so focused on Jesse that you didn’t notice Eddie was also on a date in the same theatre. But Eddie noticed you. He was seething the whole time. He didn’t pay any attention to his date or the movie. He hogged the popcorn and munched away as he watched you giggle and flirt with the blockhead jock. Eddie didn’t care that he had pissed off his date. He hardly said two words to her when they parted ways, not even offering to drive her home.

He didn’t want to go out with her but had hooked up with her at the party and felt terrible about it then. Now, he can’t even remember her name or why he went upstairs with her in the first place.

You were there, at the party, but he didn’t see you. Now he sees you everywhere, and it’s pissing him off. Why were you on his mind all of the time? For the past week, why have his dreams been consumed by you and you alone? Why did he want to hold you, be with you, talk to you, dare he say… kiss you? You were Adam’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. You were a late bloomer, but boy, did you bloom.

Eddie hated how the blonde meathead’s hand rested too low on your back. His hands grazed your skirt a little too closely. Eddie wanted to jump the guy, but he couldn’t. He was twice his size. He would be pulverized, and that would be mortifying in front of you. You wouldn’t want him like that anyway, even if he did win in a fight over you!

What the fuck was Eddie thinking? He wasn't… that's the problem. He's now thinking about getting into a physical altercation over you. He isn't able to sleep now without thinking about you. He needed to get his head on straight and quit fucking around. He hoped that if he just focused on the cars at work, this little thing would go away on its own. Maybe he can't remember that he had slipped and hit his head? Yeah, that's it. He hit his head, and now his brain is just confused. He didn't like you like that! This will all go away by tomorrow.

Wrong.

Eddie was plagued with thoughts of you. He caught himself in numerous daydreams about you while doing mindless tuneups and tire changes at the shop. It was getting out of hand; it’s been another week, and he still can’t get you off his mind… Eddie needed to be proactive. The guys were starting to give him shit about it too. They knew he was focused on a girl. They could sense it.

There was another party tonight that Adam mentioned. He will go home and get cleaned up. Then he will go to the party, he will find a nice pretty girl who will let him bury himself inside her, to forget about his thoughts of splitting your open with his cock, and this will all be over.

You walked into the party hand in hand with Jesse. He was starting to make waves in your life, being only two weeks, but still. He would walk you to your classes and help you study in the library. He would walk you home and kiss you goodbye like the perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried making any advances as of yet. The two of you had only made it to first base. Maybe tonight you would get lucky? You felt ready.

“You want something to drink?” Jesse guided you to the kitchen.

The house was hot and sticky; you were worried about your hair getting frizzy. You worked so hard on it to look good for Jesse. He even complimented it when he picked you up. Forever the gentleman.

“Whatever they have is good.” You smiled up at him.

As the two of you walked into the packed kitchen, you tried to squeeze your way around but got stuck in the crowd. It was much easier for Jesse to get by just with his size alone.

“Excuse me,” you repeated three times, but no one was budging.

“You should be a little bit more assertive,” the voice behind you said. It sent a shiver down your spine.

As you turned, you saw Eddie smirking down at you. He was drunk. You could see that and smell it.

“Hi, Eddie.” You smiled meekly before you felt the weight of Jesse’s arm wrap around you, passing you your drink.

“There you are,” Jesse smiled. "Who's this?"

"That's just Eddie...Eddie, Jesse. Jesse, Eddie." You introduced awkwardly.

Just Eddie. The words stung.

"How do the two of you know each other?" Jesse gestures between the two of you.

"Brothers best friend." You smile.

"That's all I am to you? You wound me, Tink."

The fuck was that supposed to mean?

"Eddie, man! I got us two hotties over by the pool. Let's go!" In comes your obnoxious brother with perfect timing, as always.

"I guess I'll see you around." Eddie sighed.

"Nice meeting you, man." Jesse stuck out his hand.

"Whatever." Eddie brushed him off and left with Adam.

"I'm sorry about him. That was very rude. I don't?- He's usually not like that?"

"It's okay; I can tell a jealous guy when I see one." Jesse shrugged.

You almost spat out your drink. "Jealous?!"

"Oh, it's clear as day, honey."

"No... there is no way. He's never and will never like me... like that." It broke your heart to say that out loud. Your chest felt so heavy as the words came out of your mouth.

As the rest of the night went on, you and Eddie tried avoiding one another like the plague. Those words about him being jealous were swimming around in your head for most of the night, and Eddie was trying to avoid his feelings by being with another girl, but not one stood out to him.

Adam tried getting lucky but struck out when Eddie refused to go with the friend.

"What the fuck is your problem, man? She was like a solid eight out of ten."

"I wasn't into it..." Eddie's eyes found you, and he couldn't break his gaze. You were curled up in the blockhead's lap, sitting by the fire pit, all cozy and giggly. What he would give to have you in his arms like that.

"Oh fuck, not you now." Adam groaned in frustration, seeing where Eddie's googly eyes were directed.

"Huh?" Eddie said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.

"You can't be serious?! That's my little sister, dude; come on!" Adam was always one for the dramatics; that's why he and Edie got on so well.

"Woah, man, I never said anything about your sister."

"Well, it sure is clear by the way you're making heart eyes at her."

"Yeah, right," Eddie scoffed.

"Trust me, dude, it's that same way she looks at you." Adman shook his head. He thought he would be clear of this. That this would never happen, and yet here it is, happening.

"Wait, what? What do you mean?-"

"She's been in love with you since she was twelve... come one like you didn't know?"

"No way, you smoked too much tonight, or something? Maybe my stuff is off?"

"She likes you, dude. Never fucking shuts up about you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't think it was relevant... I was never going to allow her to be with you! You serious? It's Tink, she's so...ew. You're so above that."

"She's not ew," Eddie snapped. He hated how hard Adam had always been on you.

"Whatever, man, too late now. About time she has moved on."

Eddie stood up and walked out of the party without a word. He heard Adam call out, but he ignored him completely. He needed to process what Adam told him. He needed to sober up so he could think clearly. He needed to either make you his or find a way to get over you... and fast.

That night of the party, you didn't end up getting lucky. You tried making advances, but you inevitably were shot down. He said he didn't want your first time to be when you both had been drinking and in some random bathroom. So you accepted it, even though your horny gremlin was starting to come back to life. But what did happen was he asked you to make it official with him, and you said yes!

Tonight, you had to leave the apartment for your roommate's sake. It was their anniversary, and you told them you could have the place to themselves for a romantic evening. When you told Jesse, your new boyfriend, you needed a place to crash, he offered you his bed. You would go to your classes and then return to his for your first sleeepover as a couple. You were so excited!

Jesse ended class at one in the afternoon that day, and you ended at five, so it worked out perfectly. Luckily enough for you, your professor for your last lecture was ill, so they cancelled class that day. You thought it would be fun to surprise him by showing up early.

When you got to his house, his roommate let you in and said he was in his room with his friend Connor. So when you knocked on the door and walked in a few seconds later, you did not expect to see the two men in bed, naked...

You screamed and covered your eyes, absolutely mortified that you had walked in on them. You were so unbelievably hurt that you had been deceived. Why would he ask you to be exclusive if he was sleeping around?! And on the night when you thought you would get to have sex with your new boyfriend.

You did not give Jesse any time to explain himself as he tried to get out of the tangled sheets and arms of the other man. You heard your name being called out, but you ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

Tears stung your cheeks as the cold autumn air began to settle in. The rumble of the dark clouds was also looking quite ominous.

Just your luck. Of course, you would find your boyfriend in the arms of another man, and of course, the universe would make you walk him in the rain. How poetic.

A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and that's when the rain came down in buckets. At least it could cover up your tears. You continued walking, but you couldn't think of a place to go? You could not ruin your roommate's night. There is no way Adam would let you stay in his frat house, not that you would want to anyway, and your friends from the class went home for the weekend. Shit... maybe you could spend the majority of the night in the diner and then just walk home really late once they were defiantly sleeping. But your clothes were soaked and---

“Tink, what’s wrong?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by none other than the man who was the cause of this whole mess.

Eddie rolled down the work van window. He was covered in motor oil and dirty from working all day. His muscles ached, and he badly needed a hot shower, but now all he could focus on was you and why you were upset.

“Leave me alone, Eddie.” He hadn’t ever heard you speak to him like this?

“Tink, come on, it’s a literal thunder storm. Let me take you home.”

“Can’t, girls are having date night… told them to have the place to themselves.” You continued to walk as the chill from the rain was beginning to seep through to your bones. Your teeth betray you as the chatter starts.

“Where were you supposed to be right now?”

“None of your business!”

“Tink, don’t make me pull over!”

“Screw you, Eddie!”

“That’s it.” Eddie parked the car and got out. “You’re coming with me.” Eddie picked you up over his shoulder, and you let out a screech.

“Eddie! Put me down, you caveman!” You screamed. If anyone saw you, it looked like you were being kidnapped and taken into a murder van.

“No, can do Tink. I’m taking you home to warm you up. Then you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He commanded. And if you weren’t so mad, you’d say you were a little turned on by his voice.

You hear the car door open before he plops you into the passenger seat.

“Get in” he points to your legs hanging out of the car.

“Make me.” you shiver.

“You’re being such a child! Let me help you.”

“Fine!” You swing your legs into the van, and Eddie slams the door closed, making you wince.

The car ride was quiet besides the radio and your chattering teeth. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but it was of no help. Your t-shirt and jeans clung to you like a second skin, and the car heater was only blowing cool air. You swore you thought your nipples could cut glass.

Eddie said nothing as he tugged you over on the bench seat and wrapped a warm arm around you. You broke out into another chill, but this time, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or from Eddie.

Even though Eddie was self-conscious of smelling like motor oil and body odour, he was more worried about you catching hypothermia.

Once you were inside Eddie's warm apartment, he noticed how your body was on display. You would be the clear winner if you were in a wet t-shirt contest, that's for sure. Eddi's eyes were wide with desire, but he returned to reality when you asked if you could use his shower to warm up.

Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he thought about you being naked in his shower.

"Uh, you mind if I borrow a towel and some dry clothes? I have mine, but they got soaked through my overnight bag..."

"Yeah! Uh- I mean, sure, yeah, whatever..."

You blushed slightly at Eddie, trying to play it cool. He ran to his bedroom and returned with a handful of different fabrics. You took them and then headed into the bathroom.

The hot water defrosted your bones, and when you stepped into Eddie's clothes, his sent hit you like a tidal wave. You brought the old black corroded coffin band tee that he had from high school up to your nose and inhaled deeply. You felt immediate comfort being here, with Eddie, wearing his clothes.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in the towel, Eddie couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.

"Not a word," you warn.

Eddie mock zipped his lips, then gestured to the couch for you to sit beside him.

"Sorry about being a pain earlier; you caught me at a really, really bad time."

"It's okay, Tink, you're here with me now; that's all that matters." Eddie let the towel around your head fall back so he could see your natural hair. "You wanna tell me what happened? I've never seen you so upset."

"You shook your head no, "It's too embarrassing."

"Come on, it's me we are talking about here."

You paused for a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out on the table... how much worse could it get, right?

“You remember Jesse, right?” Eddie could feel his fist tightening, but he said nothing while nodding his head with a tight lip. What the fuck did he do to you? “Well, he asked me to be his girlfriends no less than a week ago, and I was supposed to spend the night at his place… but I went over early and found him in bed with… someone.” Eddie went to say something but realized you weren’t finished and let you continue.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?! I finally get a boyfriend, and the moment I want to actually sleep with someone who isn’t you, they are in the arms of someone else! Am I really that undesirable?! I was practically throwing myself at him, and it turns out he was fucking his “friend” the whole time.”

You had missed your slip-up, but Eddie hadn't. Eddie didn’t hear anything after “I want to sleep with someone who isn’t you,”

So Adam was right…

“Eddie? Eddddiiieee?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to try and get back his attention.

Great, so now you’re undesirable AND boring.

“Sorry what?”

“Forget it… you don’t wanna hear about my pitty party. I’ll call a cab and head back to… oh shit, I can’t even go home!”

“Stay here.”

“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Yes. Stay. Take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”

“Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, Tink?” He brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, and those pesky butterflies erupted within your core.

“Because…” because I’m in love with you and don’t know if I can hold back my feelings any longer.

“Exactly, you can’t come up with one. Let me take care of you.” Eddie’s voice dropped an octave.

A chill travelled down your spine. His touch is electric. Any time you’re with Eddie, your body feels like it’s been recharged.

As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, this undeniable magnetic pull connects you. Was he leaning in? Or were you? Maybe it was the both of you? There was little to no space between you. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, alone with Eddie in his apartment.

“I should get cleaned up,” Eddie whispered. He was so close you could taste the spearmint Nicorette gum he had been chewing. It took everything in his power to pull away. He wanted to kiss you so very badly, but he got a whiff of himself, and he needed to wash up. I would be unfair to you.

“Oh, okay,” you breathed in, and Eddie slid back.

“You can make yourself at home, okay? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Eddie was freaking out in the shower, and you were freaking out in the kitchen. While Eddie scrubbed his skin so hard he thought he would scrub it off completely, you went to the fridge to find anything to help calm your nerves.

There wasn’t anything in the fridge, but the freezer, on the other hand... Bingo. You poured yourself a shot of vodka and almost threw up, but you held it together with a chaser of orange juice. You took one more for good measure and then made your way back to the couch. As you waited for your liquid courage to kick in, you flicked around on the TV but didn’t really pay much attention. Your thoughts were swimming with questions and possible scenarios that could play out this evening.

You were taken away from your inner thoughts when Eddie exited the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You tried not to make it obvious, but the alcohol clouded your awareness of your face.

“Sorry, I left my clothes in the bedroom” he saw you eye fucking him and gave a little smirk.

“It’s okay. Totally okay.” you sighed.

The sight of his wet, bare torso makes your heart race, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his nipples perked, and his hair soaked yet still so sexy. Your stomach simultaneously flip-flopped. And as for your pussy… well, she got a little excited at the heavenly sight in front of you.

“Yeah,” You wanna see more, Tink? Eddie thought to himself.

“Yeah.” You sighed before he disappeared into his bedroom.

Minutes later, Eddie returned, and the two of you acted as if nothing happened. Neither of you willing to break the tension first. So you both sat silently, watching some random TV movie while you prayed to come up with something to discuss. You wanted to talk so badly with him.

“This couch is pretty lumpy; it wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on it.” You felt terrible that he offered his bed. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Nope. No way.” Eddie shook his head.

“Eddie.” You huffed.

“Tink,” he mocked back.

“You need a good sleep! You work a strenuous job…And my back can take it.”

I bet your back could take it, Eddie thought.

“You calling me old, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart, your stomach did a flip-flop again.

“No.” You snicker at his accusation.

“I don’t think I believe you” Eddie’s tone dropped again.

“Well, I’m not letting up”

“Neither am I; you’re sleeping in my bed whether I’m on it or not.

“Oh...”

“Yeah, oh.” Eddie sat back and the both of you finished the movie in silence.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but Eddie shook your shoulder awake.

“Come on Tinkerbell we are going to bed.” You think you hear Eddie whisper.

Were you dreaming? Did Eddie just tell you the two of you were going to bed?

“Mmm?”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, remember? Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”

“Okay, Eddie, “ you agreed in your sleepy haze.

You feel his arm wrap under yours as he helps you off the couch.

“There you go.” Eddie coos as he places you down gently.

The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re suddenly wide awake. You’re in Eddie’s bed. Eddie is getting in next to you.

“Figured we would compromise.” He slid next to you but over the covers with a throw blanket.

“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part. “You seem to always be there for me…” you turn to your side to face Eddie.

“I’ll always be there for you, Tink, whether you like it or not…” Eddie also turns so he is facing you.

“Eddie.” Your breath hitched.

“Yes Tink.”

Fuck are you really going to spill your guts to him here and now?

“I… I wanna-need to tell you something.” You close your eyes, not daring to look at him.

“I think I might have an idea.”

“You-what?” Eyes still closed

You feel the bed shift and feel Eddie's warm breath fan your lips.

“Do you trust me?” Eddie whispered.

You aren’t brave enough to speak. So you tentatively nod your head yes.

“Do you trust me, Tink? I need you to say it.” He asked once more.

You slowly opened your eyes and bravely opened your mouth. “Yes, Ed’s, I trust you.”

A slight smile graces Eddie’s before you watch him lean in with a pucker.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment his lips touched yours.

Holy shit.

Eddie Munson was kissing you. Eddie Munson, your older brother's best friend, who you’ve been in love with for seven years, is now kissing you… in his bed… late at night… with no one else around. It was like fireworks were going off. It was everything you ever wanted and more.

It was all you had ever dreamed of, and now he was blowing your expectations out of the water. You had to have more. You needed this to last forever.

Your hands moved up to cup his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, contrasting his soft plush lips. Eddie shifted closer to you. You could feel his body through the thick blankets that separated the two of you, but you wanted to be closer to him. You threw the blankets and all caution to the wind when you shifted to wrap your legs around him.

Eddie rolled so he was on top of you. To your surprise, you felt his firm cock pressed to your thigh, which made you moan softly.

“Fucking hell, Tink”

“Eddie, please, I need you.”

“Didn’t take you long to beg,” he chuckled darkly.

“Well, it took you long enough to see me.”

Eddie gazed into your eyes like he was looking at you for the first time. Like really seeing you. He muttered your name, your real name, for the first time, and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face before you strained your neck to take his lips once more.

Eddie’s strong hands grazed your waist and settled on your hips, pinning you down to the mattress. His weight is entirely on you now. Your knees hitched up, and you opened your hips more to give him more room.

“Eddie,” you gasped into his mouth. Eddie ground his hips into yours, and you let out another soft moan.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You, it’s always been you.” You confessed.

Eddie didn’t say anything in reply but instead worked his fingers to the waistband of his sweatpants that you dawned.

“This okay?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you rushed. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

“Don’t be mean,” You shove the pants off your ankles and go for your shirt.

“Wait… let me.” Eddie sat up so you could as well. His hands brushed the hem and slowly pulled the shirt he let you borrow off of you.

He took in your naked frame in front of him.

Shit, you weren’t wearing your panties this whole time? They must have been soaked as well from the rain. Eddie thought.

Eddie saw you shy away as you sat there naked in front of the boy you loved as he took you all in.

It didn’t take long before Eddie’s hands roamed your skin, finding your breasts.

“You’re so soft.” Eddie moaned into your neck as he took in the fact that you now smelled like him. He sent all over you; he was feral. He needed to claim you as his own. How could he be so blind all these years? You were perfect; you were everything he ever wanted.

“Do you like soft?”

“Very much so.”

Eddie melted into you once more as he travelled down your body, kissing and nipping at every inch. You softly moaned when he flicked your nipples with his tongue, and you really moaned when he reached your wet pussy.

How Eddie loved the noises he was pulling from you. He would do anything to make you sing for him.

“You like that baby? You want me to touch you… here?” His index finger grazed your wet slit.

“Yes” you replied quickly, a little too quickly.

“Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”

You giggled, but it was cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips grazing your clit.

You’d daydreamed countless times about how his fingers would feel while you watched him while he and your brother jammed in your garage.

He circled your clit before dipping his head down to kiss your lower lips. Reality hit you once again. Eddie was eating you out. Eddie was eating you out like a man starved, in fact. How was he so good at this? Scratch that you didn’t want to know. Your thoughts slowed down as Eddie’s thick fingers entered your wet hole.

“Eddie!” You yelled with pleasure.

“Oh yes, sweetheart, say my name.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you replayed like a mantra.

As his fingers grazed that spot that only you managed to find when you were alone in your bed, exploring your body. You fell apart in his hands.

“Your pussy grips me so good, god I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Please, Eddie,” you begged in your blissed-out daze.

“Let me hear it again,” he smirked.

“I need you, please. I want your cock so badly."

“Mmmmmm, as you wish.” he pulled back so he could strip. You watched as his tight muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt, then scrunched as he bent over to take off his bottoms.

His cock sprung out of their confines, and your breath hitched for what you thought was at least the fourth time that night.

You’ve imagined what it would look like, but none of the times ever did you imagine he was this hung. No wonder he was so confident and cocky around women. It was long, thick, and straight. No curvatures, just pure rod.

“I don’t think that’s going to fit,” you blurt out, not thinking.

“Don’t worry, Baby. It’ll fit.” he slunk back down on you, peppering your lips with more sensual kisses. His fingers travelled down to your pussy, stretching you out again, only this time, he used 3 fingers to make sure you were nice and ready.

“Please, I’m ready” You ground your pussy into Eddie’s hand.

Eddie reached over into his drawer, pulled out a condom, and slipped it over his shaft as quickly as possible. Seemed that he was just as eager as you.

Eddie kissed you hard as his cock slipped past your wet folds and inside, splitting you open. The wonderful burn of his cock burying itself inside of you. What could you say? It had been a while, and Eddie was the biggest you’ve ever had.

“Slowly,” you guided Eddie as he rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust.

“God, you’re so tight”

“Mmmphmm”

“Your noises are so pretty.” Eddie tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.

Eddie took your breath away as he looked into your eyes. He was being so soft and gentle with you as if you could break.

“Eddie, please.”

“I got you, Princess”

Eddie rocked his hips with more emphasis; his body was moulding into yours. As his cock grazed your tight walls, you felt your body was brought to life.

“Oh fuck” your words slipped, not even realizing you were speaking.

“Come’on baby, let me hear you”

“You’re making me feel so good, Eddie!”

“More, tell me who you belong to.”

“ You! always been you, Eddie, please, I wanna come. Please make me cum on your cock.”

“Good girl. You’re being so good, f’me” Eddie's hips slapped into the backs of your thighs, and he plummeted into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

Eddie grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them back to your shoulders, only making the angle more delicious as he fucked you. He watched as his cock disappeared into your wanton pussy. He watched as you clenched down on his cock, and he almost lost it as he tried not to cum right then and there.

“Fuck me, Tink! Your pussy is too good,” he gritted through his teeth, trying to keep the pace without blowing his load.

“Eddie!” Your body was on fire as his cock continuously hit your g spot. Your lower belly tingled as the feeling of your orgasm built up again.

“You close, baby?”

“Yes”

“Cum for me.”

“More, I need more.”

Eddie slipped his hand between you and gently circled your clit once again.

You moan, cockdrunk as your body begins to spasm around Eddie’s cock.

“Yes, that’s it, come on baby. Keep cuming. That’s my girl.”

Your eyes roll back into your head, and you clamp your jaw. Every muscle tightens and clenches as your second orgasm rips through you.

“Good girl. Good fuckin girl.” Eddie praises as he empties himself into the condom.

After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath and Eddie discarding the used condom, you break the silence.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Adam is going to kill me,” Eddie laughed.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to get him back. You roll over to snuggle in his arms.

“And to think you were supposed to be in another man’s bed tonight.” Eddie hated that idea.

“At least I ended up in the right man’s bed.”

Part 2

Tagging those who seemed interested: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow @itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson angst #older brothers best friend x reader #request #TJ’s mailbox #jealous!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munons x angst #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x f!reader

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ylangelegy · 1 month ago

Text

as we are (teaser) ⚾ seungmin x reader.

★ baseball captain!seungmin x f!reader. ★ teaser word count: 3,000~ ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: university, alternate universe: varsity baseball captain!seungmin, alternate universe: political science major!seungmin. idiots in love, slow burn, friends to lovers, seungmin is emotionally constipated (and a red flag, if you squint). skz ensemble (dormmates + hyunjin and chan are on the baseball team). baseball references i am not 100% sure about. ★ footnotes: this is perhaps the skz fic i've done the most work on, though it's largely self-indulgent. i never thought it would see the light of day, but ksm's teaser for as we are featured him playing baseball and it has singlehandedly dragged me back to the possibility of finishing this. publishing the teaser for now in hopes of getting some motivation to put out the whole thing. enjoy!

As Seungmin's bat cracks against a pitched ball for the nth time that afternoon, he tries to think of anything but the bitterness in the back of his throat.

His feet are rigid and his shoulders are impossibly taut. He's clutching the grip of his bat a little too tight, but none of his teammates have the heart to call him out on it. They know their captain and they know better to question him when he's like this.

"Again," Seungmin says coolly, and the terse pitcher does as he's asked.

Thwack. The ball soars over the outfield. Seungmin tries to think, instead, of the essay he has to do for World Governance later, of what Jeongin might want to dinner. Anything but the fact you ditched him for some goddamn date or something.

A flicker of annoyance flashes across Seungmin's expression. "Again," he commands, and he hits the next ball so hard that the bat nearly flies out of his hands.

It's a litany of again, again, again until the pitcher misses his target completely. Seungmin's eyes narrow as he notices the way the pitcher is eyeing something over his shoulder. He turns to look at the bleachers.

When he catches sight of you, his already stoic face hardens into something stone cold. You had somehow snuck in undetected, and you were now lounging there like you hadn't told Seungmin some two hours ago that your weekly dinner had to be called off.

For a moment, Seungmin's grip on his bat tightens even further before he glances back at his pitcher. He shoots him a look before he walks over to the fence, stopping a few feet away from you.

"What are you doing here?" he snipes, his eyes flickering with irritation.

Without missing a beat, you reach for something that had been resting at your feet: An iced flat white with an extra shot of espresso. You hold it up for him to see as you stay in your seat.

It's his usual order, the same thing he got whenever we went out for coffee.

"Peace offering," you say simply, which is the closest to an apology that Seungmin will probably ever get from you.

Seungmin's expression remains taut, but the tension in his shoulders relaxes almost imperceptibly. He considers you for a few heartbeats, before his gaze slowly rises back to yours. His jaw clenches.

"You can't just give me coffee every time you want me to forgive you," he snipes, crossing his arms.

You don't falter, just keep holding out the coffee and waiting for him to take it. "That's why I switch it up. Sometimes, I get you croissants," you deadpan.

He eyes the coffee cup you're holding out to him, still refusing to take it. "You're insufferable," he mutters, but there's a hint of exasperated fondness in his voice.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you before Seungmin finally uncrosses his arms. He reaches out to take the coffee from you, fingers brushing against your own.

"What do you even want?" he grumbles, taking a sip.

"Can't a girl watch her best friend practice baseball?" you respond, the hint of a smile on your lips.

One of the teammates playing third base wolf-whistles in the background and earns himself a quick smack upside the head. Seungmin shoots a glower at them but says nothing, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Yeah? You here to cheer me on?" he asks you dryly, raising an eyebrow.

You prop your arms over the chairs next to your and cross your legs— a clear sign that you're not going anywhere any time soon. "Something like that," you say without missing a beat. "I'm a big fan of uniform number twenty-two."

As much as he tries to remain aloof and unaffected by your presence, Seungmin's cheek tinge with a hint of pink at your comment.

He tries to cover it up with a scoff, but the blush betrays him. "I know you are," he mutters, before clearing his throat and taking another gulp of his coffee. "You can watch, but don't distract me."

You finally let a bit of a smile slip through, like you're relieved that you're not being hauled out of the stadium.

"Kncok 'em dead, captain," you call after Seungmin's retreating back, drawing snickers among his teammates.

"Shut up!" Seungmin barks at the boys, but the blush on the back of his neck betrays his words. He takes a brief moment to glare at them all before he regains his composure.

With a short sigh, he steps back up onto home plate, and the other players on the field get ready. The pitcher nods at Seungmin, and the captain raises his bat, taking a moment to look up at the bleachers.

His eyes catch on your seated figure, and his chest clenches just a little. He turns away before he can think too hard about it.

As practice winds to a close, one of Seungmin's teammates and roommates— Chan— jogs up to you.

"Hey, angel," he greets, the lilt of a tease already on his tongue. "You have any coffee for me, too?"

Chan grins, unperturbed by the eye roll you give him. He props his arms on the railing and looks up at you with an expression that's far too innocent.

He casts a glance towards Seungmin, who's still on the field, having a word with the pitcher who had been throwing balls for him. "So, what did you to piss off the captain this time?" Chan asks nonchalantly, his smile widening as he catches sight of the hoodie you're wearing. Seungmin's hoodie.

"Ditched him for a tutoring session," you answer.

"Ow!" Chan places a hand to his chest in a show of faux horror. "Don't you know how many girls would kill for a date with the Kim Seungmin?"

You rest your forearms against your thighs as you lean forward to keep watch of Seungmin. "Mhm," you hum. "And here I am, breaking his heart."

Chan gives you a knowing look before he lets out a bark of laughter.

He glances back towards Seungmin, who's still chatting with the pitcher— or more likely, giving him a thorough lecturing on the state of his fastball.

"He's been in a pissy mood all day," Chan says with a slight shrug. "We all thought he was about to blow a fuse, until—" He gestures vaguely, his eyes still drawn to the way you're wearing Seungmin's clothes.

"The hoodie is part of the three-step plan," you say wryly. "Seungmin has a thing for seeing me in his clothes."

Chan lets out an unceremonious snort of laughter. "Gee, I wonder why."

You retort by pointedly asking, "Don't you have to throw some balls or something? Better get out of here before your captain decides to make you his next target."

Chan rolls his eyes at your taunt, but he knows it's true.

As if on cue, Seungmin suddenly turns around, and his eyes land on the sight of you and Chan in the bleachers. His jaw clenches, and he immediately begins to stalk towards the two of you.

Chan lets out a low whistle, raising his hands up in defense as Seungmin draws closer. "Hey, hey, I'm going, I'm going—"

Chan is gone before Seungmin can even open his mouth at him, and Seungmin gives you a baleful glare.

"What was Chan saying to you?" he asks coolly, arms crossed as he stands over you. He's sweaty from practice, and his body is tense with irritation.

"We were discussing how much of an absolute ray of sunshine you are," you say dryly.

Chan, from a couple of feet away, hollers, "Do not listen to her, Min!"

Seungmin scowls over at Chan's direction. Chan grins deviously, while Seungmin's features sour even further.

"Insufferable," he mutters under his breath before he turns back to you.

He crosses his arms, his eyes flickering down to the hoodie you're wearing. "That's mine," he says curtly, factually.

You tug the sleeves over your wrists, as if to say, Oh, this little ol' thing? The hoodie was one of Seungmin's older ones. An oversized piece featuring cover art of his favorite band, DAY6.

"You forgot it at my apartment last weekend. When you helped me fix the IKEA shelf," you remind him. "Want it back?"

Seungmin's expression falters for a moment as you tug at the sleeves. The sight of you in his hoodie makes his heart stutter briefly.

He hesitates, momentarily thrown off-balance, but he quickly composes himself and shakes his head. "Yes. I want it back. Immediately."

You let out a small tch of disapproval, but you're in no position to argue. You reach one hand to the back of the hoodie and pull it over your head in one deft movement. Your cropped top underneath rises ever so slightly.

"Here ya go," you say, holding out the hoodie over the railing.

A muscle in Seungmin's jaw ticks as his eyes are drawn to a sliver of exposed skin at your mid-riff, before shooting back up to your face, where his gaze hardens.

He scowls at you— mostly in an attempt to distract himself from the fact that he's suddenly become extremely flustered— and snatches the hoodie from your hands.

"Put a shirt on," he snaps, averting his eyes. "You're distracting."

Distracting me, he neglects to add, but you both know that's what he's thinking.

"I am wearing a shirt," you sigh, leaning back into your seat. The top leaves most of your midriff exposed. "And I was also wearing your hoodie, but it is what it is, I s'pose."

In the grand scheme of things, the amount of skin that the top exposes is a minuscule amount.

But as your best friend and as a guy with eyes, Seungmin knows it's the most dangerous part of your outfit. He tries to look anywhere but the slice of exposed skin, but it's a damn near impossible task.

"Wear something that covers that damn midriff," he grumbles.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and say slowly, as if explaining to a child, "I don't have any other clothes, Kim."

"You couldn't have been bothered to find something less..." He waves one hand in the general direction of your midriff. "Exposed?"

He's aware of how hypocritical he sounds. You, out of everyone in the entire world, have seen him in the bare minimum of clothing. But, in his head, it's different when you walk around in a revealing top. It's not decent, he argues in his head. It's not proper.

More importantly, it's driving him insane.

For some odd reason, he wants no one else looking at you.

"Jesus Christ," you huff.

Seungmin is impossible, pedantic, and stubborn. There are days when you can’t believe you’ve managed not to strangle each other over the last three years.

You shove out your hand, your gaze as cold as steel. "Just loan me the damn hoodie again."

"You—" His jaw clenches. "Fine. Take it. But this is the last time, ever."

He thrusts the hoodie back towards you, and his fingers curl into fists, so as to prevent himself from reaching for you instead.

"It has been the last time ever for three years now," you grumble as you easily slide back into the hoodie. Once it's back in place, you chirp, "Happy?"

Seungmin scoffs, but he doesn't answer.

He looks absolutely livid, but he's more angry at how much he likes you in his hoodie. The image of you in it will be stuck in his mind for days to come, he's sure.

He gives a frustrated huff as he runs a hand through his damp hair, trying— and failing— to quell the swarm of thoughts in his mind. "Yeah," he says gruffly. "Happy."

A beat. And then, you sigh, "Go terrorize your team. I'm taking you out for dinner after."

"What?" he says, incredulous. He knows you well enough to know you're not joking, but he thinks he must be hallucinating. "You— You are?"

It seems impossible that you'd want to spend more time with him, after he's been so moody.

A corner of your lip twitches upward, mimicking the not-quite-a-smirk on Seungmin's face. You retaliate with, "Because I can't just get you coffee every time I want you to forgive me."

That statement alone has Seungmin's smirk spreading into a slow, lazy grin. He folds his arms and tips his head to the side, leaning one hip against the railing.

"So you're bribing me," he says, one eyebrow arched upward. "With food."

"Would you rather I cause a scene?" you prompt. "I can get on my knees. Say the word."

The image of you on your knees before him sends a dangerous shiver down his spine, and Seungmin tightens his arms across his chest. He knows damn well that you'd do it in a heartbeat.

"You wouldn't," he says, his voice a low rasp. He's not sure who he's trying to convince at this point.

You lean forward until your arms dangle over the railing. You press your cheek against your forearm, looking almost like a stretching cat, as you stare straight up at Seungmin. "Try me."

His gaze drifts to the smooth expanse of your bare arms, and in his mind, he's all too aware of just how easy it would be to simply lean over and—

His train of thoughts comes to a screeching halt, and he forcibly drags his gaze back up onto your face. No, he chides himself. Not a wise idea.

The look in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what you're doing to him. He swallows and croaks, "You play dirty."

You break into a proper grin. "And you're not playing at all, captain."

You give a vague gesture to his team, who are all mostly milling about and slacking off in his absence. "Go whip them into shape so we can have dinner sooner."

Seungmin wants to make a snide comment about you giving him orders, but the thought of dinner is enough to have him scowling once more.

He spares a brief glance back at his team, before his gaze snaps back to you. "Fine," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Don't go anywhere."

He pushes away from the railing and heads off reluctantly towards his teammates, making it all too clear that he'd much rather stay and continue bickering with you.

When practice finally, finally ends, Chan bounds up to you, having narrowly escaped the captain's wrath.

"I could kiss you," he announces a little too loudly. "Goddamn miracle worker."

You let out a small 'tch' of disapproval. "You're going to get yourself killed," you sigh, because, of course, Seungmin overheard and is also on his way back.

Seungmin glares at Chan as he approaches, his annoyance returning in full force, but he makes sure to keep a healthy distance away from the other boy.

Chan grins unabashedly at Seungmin. "C'mon, Min, even you have to admit that—"

The look on Seungmin's face makes Chan pause, his smile faltering as he takes a cautious step backwards. Seungmin looks like he'd rather throw Chan off the bleachers than listen to anything he had to say right now.

"Why don't you head home, Chan?" Seungmin says tersely.

Chan's eyes widen, and he raises his hands up in surrender, immediately taking this as his cue to exit.

The second he's out of sight, Seungmin looks back towards you. He's still visibly irritated, and the way he clenches his hands by his sides tells you exactly how happy he is at the moment.

You give Chan a lazy wave as he scurries away. You can feel Seungmin's gaze on the side of your face, but you're careful not to look at him just yet.

Instead, you keep your gaze trained on the baseball pitch, where half the team is trying not to pay attention to you.

"Not that I'm interested in Bang," you drawl. "But you make it impossible for any other guy to approach me. You know that, right?"

A muscle in Seungmin's jaw ticks at the mention of another boy potentially having an interest in you.

The sight of you in his hoodie has riled up those feelings— the possessive, protective ones that tell him to keep you close, to not even let anyone look at you the wrong way.

"I think of it more as a public service," he says through gritted teeth. "You shouldn't be dating anyone, anyway."

Seungmin registers the brief flicker of hurt on your face, and he almost flinches.

He doesn't know why he said that, only that the mere thought of you dating someone fills him with irrational anger, which makes no damn sense because you weren't his to begin with.

"Go take your damn shower already," you grumble, already properly acquainted with Seungmin's post-practice routines. "And while you're there, think of what you want for dinner."

At your grumpy tone, he feels a pang of guilt, but he's quick to shove that feeling aside. He runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it even further. "Fine. See you in ten."

Seungmin heads off to the locker rooms with his bag slung over his shoulder.

By the time he's finished with his shower, he's managed to shove all the guilt and anger and frustration deep down in the confines of his mind.

He doesn't want to sour the mood right before a date— wait, no, it wasn't a date, it was just dinner, right?

He runs a frustrated hand through his still-damp hair as he enters the lobby, his eyes automatically seeking you.

He finds you in your usual spot, leaning against a wall and scrolling through your phone, and the sight in front of him almost has his breath catching in his chest.

For a split second, he almost wonders if it's a vision of his future— of you waiting for him after every game, of you in his hoodie as he walks towards you— but he shakes the thought from his head.

He's not sure he's allowed to have that future.

#seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy #୨ৎ muse .ᐟ skz

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anantaru · 1 year ago

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*points mic at you* miss yoru miss yoru thoughts about hsr men reaction to s/o whimpering and crying about their dick being too much for s/o to take?? 💕💕

including. blade & luka

cw. rough, sprinkle of dacryphilia, fem! reader

— blade

your soul practically jumps out of your frame when you feel blade's warm, yet rough fingers wrapping around your wet cheeks, digging his thumbs upwards until he’s got a pretty good hold on you.

"you think you can still take it?" as per usual, it is simply impossible for him to not tease you when he knows he's too big for your little cunt, dominating the conversation, always having to slide up into you slowly, until you're used to his girth and inches, until he fits perfectly in your warm, wet pussy and feels your tight hole contort over him.

you sob, scoff and twist your fingers into his hair, "y-yes!" trying to desperately ignore the heat probably turning your face aflame, but it’s getting harder to ignore how he almost split you in half, with the little, cute noises that escape your lips anyways, with the way blade's cock throbs just that much more when he looks down on you, his entire weight on top of you, his eyes, ominous.

"doesn't seem like it." he murmurs, shallowly grinding his cock into your pussy without trying hard.

only further proving that even the smallest movements could turn you into this, a fucked out mess and it's only because of him, blade can feel his overflowing pride pressing into him, tilting his head when you attempt to find your words, but end up moaning desperately when he feels like fucking you properly again.

— luka

you cry out luka's name in an ensemble of half-broken sobs and whines, but they die down in your throat, which was a first for you because you never felt this overstimulated, ever.

but you knew the reason as to why, because luka was ruthless with you tonight, it‘s a different kind of his touch and handles that you feel settle into your bones and limbs, slowed and perfected, and you can't get enough of it. that‘s the best part.

luka leans in close enough to breathe with you, lips featherlight grazing over each other as he looks into your glowing eyes, his hips pistoling into your soaked cunt. his tense muscles were the mirror of his lust, a clear indicator of an euphoric craving to make you cum and overflow you with his sticky seed.

"it's too much, baby?" he asks you bluntly, the sound edged, your boyfriend surely was confident and smug with such damn smirk plastered on his pretty, rosy lips and in any other cases, you'd love to put him back into his place, because luka knows how it feels when he's the one getting overstimulated, shaking and trembling when you ride his cock and pull out last second so he wouldn't be able to taste his sweet climax.

"yeah.." you babble as his hips make your body jolt up and down, your brows twitching when his hands curl and twist your bouncing breasts, not leaving you a time to think properly and it's almost crazy on how good he felt inside of you tonight, rubbing the head of his girth into your walls and noticing every time you cling down harder.

more moans and chains of nonsense passing your lips, moaning, sighing, telling him that, yes, it's obviously too much too handle but you didn't want him to stop because you were so very close, your hands tensing on his scarlet hair and you notice every time you tug on it he would groan out harder, fucks you deeper, greater when you get rougher on his burning scalp.

"you know what to say if it's too much."

you can discern his comforting carefulness, pulling him down to sloppily make out with him when he picks up the tempo on his hips, "fuck— you’re killing me." he moans into your mouth, his large hands pinning you down the bed and grunting viciously each time at the tight seal you had around his girth.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #blade x reader #blade smut #luka x reader #luka smut #honkai star rail luka x reader #hsr luka x reader #hsr luka smut #hsr blade smut #hsr blade x reader

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neosero · 5 months ago

Note

Can I please request a part two to [01:15], were the reader ignores them afterward the fights/never death experience and when the characters try to talk to them the reader just ignores them and walks away and the characters feels a little guilty, I'm invested in what will happen next. Probably a lot of angst but maybe some fluff at the end

[ 12:30am ]

and yet, you still resist

collection | gods, the all powerful - #genshin

↳ [ 01:15pm ] and sometimes you have to remind yourself they're gods |

↳ pt. ii [ fontaine version ] |

↳ [ 12:30am ] and yet, you still resist |

wc | 5.3k total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; dark themes; kinda starts at a random moment of time sorry lol, stalking ( venti ); implied-kidnapping, forced-intamacy ( zhongli & neuvillette ); reader gets makeup put on them but still nothing specific to gender, also i do not know a thing about makeup lol ( neuvillette )

a/n | SORRY THIS TOOK FIVE MONTHS this one is for you anon! kinda forgot about the fluff but still i hope you like the follow up!! this is an extentsion of the linked fics above. though it isn't required it would be best to read that for a clear picture on the character dynamics

( extended author’s note at the end!!! )

THE ANEMO ARCHON Lord Barbatos | wc. 2k+

"So patchy, what's your story?"

The firewood tumbles in on itself within the pit. Ember sparks fly high, dancing between you and the other soldiers that crowd around the flame. It does little to combat the chilling air of Dragonspine, but it does provide enough of a haven for your group to forgo the mission to sit in idle company.

Chatter is loud amongst the knights and you would think this some caravan camping out over a reconnaissance party. You have a thought to hush the group as to not alert your targets, but with three days of just constant snow and no other signs of life you hold your tongue for their sanity.

“Hey! I asked you a question.”

The cold has been a lot better against your bandages than you had first thought. The old wounds from the incident haven’t completely healed, but the breeze feels like a gentle cold wrap around the warm ache of your body. Albeit not the best place for it, you feel more relaxed than you have for a while.

“Do you have a problem with me or something?!”

The once boisterous ensemble goes silent as all eyes turn to the quarrel. A soldier you don’t bother even trying to recognize has suddenly stepped up to your face. It's obvious he is new to the ranks; his armour is still freshly polished and not a dent in sight. You can catch the edgings of a family crest on the hilt of the sword he reaches for at his side.

A spoiled child of wealth. He'll probably last two more days before he turns back.

"Ignore him. Recruits are always ill-mannered to their seniors their first time out.” A man — Druig, the captain of your team — grabs the boy by the neck of his armour, dragging him back to his stool before he causes anymore of a scene. This brings back the laughter of the knights and the boy sits arms crossed with cheeks tinted pink.

"Though you could humor him." Druig boasts again, loud and obviously falling victim to the jug of wine in his hands. He offers you some carelessly, the liquid spilling over the rim and staining the pure snow red. You raise a hand in rejection and he happily takes another swig for himself. "Hell, all the lads could use a fine tale!"

Another cheer into the night. Druig has been determined to get you to open up since you took the commission. Although you can see the logic behind it — as your employer he deserves to know some part background — it never occurred to you as something that should be this importance. But with three days of begging and now several pairs of eyes awaiting the tale, there is really no escaping the memory.

You sigh deeply, already regretting the decision. You squat to the fire.

"It was the wind. Strongest I had ever seen."

The image is so clear in your head; the ache is still so painful in your bones that it's difficult to forget.

That fear is so easy to remember.

"An Eye of the Storm. The Eye of the Storm. An elemental lifeform so powerful it could be at level with an Archon. It raised the ground. It shook the trees bare. I didn't stand a chance."

Your voice falters as the face of Lord Barbatos flashes within the flames. His crazed smile reopens closed wounds and suddenly your skin feels itchy all over again.

The existence of Gods in the mortal realm hangs a heavy shadow over Teyvat. Stormterror's Rampage, the presumed death of the Geo Archon, the being that is Inazuma's Shogun; they are what mere humans cannot equal or challenge in any possible regard. And yet we still choose to worship the unknown.

"The Archons must have blessed you to survive that."

It's laughable really; how they can have so much faith in a being who spends most of their time drunk in a tavern while the rest of the world begs for their fortune.

"We live in a world where people can control the elements like magic and beasts can grow taller than trees- taller than mountains. My life is no blessing from a God and it never will be." You spit with a fire.

The impious statement shocks the soldiers still. With the Archon being held in such a religious light in Mondstadt, your behavior naturally rouses anger. The emotion slowly seeps through most of the men who no doubt have been within the Knights for sometime and upheld the Archon's image. It's obvious you've stained what little welcome you had within the group.

There is no reaction when you stand or when you begin to turn off into the cold of Dragonspine you wave over your shoulder, "I'll get more wood for the fire."

You walk past angry men unapologetically. The boy from earlier spits at your feet as you march by but it doesn't deter you in the slightest. Their beliefs aren't yours to taint in this moment and with direct orders from the Acting Grand Master you refrain from overstepping.

You travel far enough through the snow that the flames from the camp cannot be seen through the blizzard fog. With enough space to hear your own thoughts again, you can finally be at peace with the mountain. The snowflakes fall around you in clusters. Pinecones tumble from rustling trees with silent thuds into the layered snow. Small critters scurry around foraging for their next meals.

You breathe into your hands for warmth. While you are out you might forage yourself. There won't be much firewood to find in this area. The blizzard has dampened much of the fallen twigs and searching for dry wood is like looking for a needle within a haystack. Still you kneel to the floor to keep yourself busy and keep a clear head.

A boar's grunt catches your attention. Just over a shrub you can catch sight of the native beast's shaking fur. It's back is turned to you and it seems to be trying to scare something hidden in the bush ahead. Of course you cannot see anything noteworthy in the bush, yet you do not doubt the animal's senses.

Without warning it barrel's head first at the plant. You expected a few things: a rabbit, a weasel, a few clustered crystalflies, another boar even. With having taken a commission that was far from civilization — far from him — anything else should have been what came out of that bush. Instead it was a man.

He falls to the ground with a yelp, the weight of the boar's charge having kicked up snow in its wake. Your first instinct should have been to question the strange man's presence in such a place like this, but your apprentice training kicks in before you can think it through. You approach him to help.

He is covered in snow from head to toe, and when you bring him up most of it falls. You are about to tell him off, the whole knightly script just at the edge of your tongue as you rub off more snow. It was odd the way he stood beside you at an angle like he was trying to hide something. Just as you move to speak you do catch the edge of what he is hiding. You can’t forgot its shape even if you wanted to.

It was a lyre. Your fingers still at his sides. Slowly you look to the man’s face and those bright green eyes meet your gaze head on.

This was no man but a God. The Anemo Archon: Lord Barbatos.

You jump back hastily, nearly tripping over your own feet to get away. Venti brushes the remaining snow off his body with no urgency and stands upright like this was some casual meet. "Long time no see."

He takes a step forward and on reflex you draw your sword. He holds up his hands in surrender but you won't take any chance... not this time. Your whole body visibly shakes, your hands break out in cold sweats and breaths are labored. Why is he here? What possibly could have brought him to the one place you had been sure he wouldn't be?

"You look good." He speaks after a short silence and you scuff to the trees. "What the fuck are you doing here!"

It isn't a question, you demand an answer. You grip the sword with two hands to steady yourself.

"You haven't been home for a while so I got worried. I never got the chance to apologize to you and it feels like you're avoiding me." He pouts like some concerned friend. Your eyes constantly flicker from his own ones to the lyre at his side. How far could you get if you make a run for it? "And the guild said you were taking more out field commissions so I..."

"You what?" Venti doesn't answer quick enough, instead taking a cautious step forward which makes you move to widen the distance. "I've been... following your scent through the wind."

You feel gross all over, like you need to scrub the skin off your bones in order to erase whatever scent he is talking about. He's been tracking you... hunting you... stalking you by smell.

"How long?"

"I know how weird this may sound but-"

"How long have you been here!"

His hands drop to his sides and he casts his gaze to the distance, a habit you hate spikes up old memories. "Two days." He admits regrettably.

Oh god. He's been watching you from the start, maybe even before you reached the mountain.

"But I was just coming to apologize. I was waiting for the right time and you looked so happy that I jus-"

Your throat has run dry and the freezing temperatures aren't helping the situation at hand. Your voice cuts in sharp with what little courage you have left, "Listen — and I'll only say this once."

"I want nothing to do with you ever again. Okay! Go sniff out that Honorary Knight or something just... stay away from me."

His face contorts from one of deep sorrow to one of pain. Just like that day. It takes a few beats, a few moments of false hope that you broke him enough to make a run for it. He laughs to himself dimly and you feel your strength waning. Your hope is crushed with his next words.

"I think you should let the wind carry you a bit longer, unless you wish to fall into the storm once again."

The lyre shifts a deep crimson faster than you can blink and that weighted fear returns tenfold. The blizzard grows in ferocity. Various rocks, wood and helpless animals are picked up with the wind and flung out in various directions. You can barely keep your own footing now and he hasn't even begun his song.

His hands raise, ready to start his torture. All you can think of is the end. Preparing yourself for those wretched noises. But all you hear is... silence.

"What the hell happened to you?" You nearly jump out of your skin. Druig comes from behind a tree, puzzled.

You turn to where Barbatos stood only moments ago but only see a tuft of falling snow gliding in the air. Your eyes shift frantically throughout the open space from the tops of trees to the distant expanse of the now tame snowy night. There is no blood on the snow, no signs of a storm, not even the outline of footprints.

Nothing.

"I saw... it was... uhm... " Your heavy breathing cuts your sentence short and you know you must look crazy to the captain. He was here. He was right here and yet. You're still shaken, the thump of your heartbeat not only in your muscles but also your fingers and your head. What just happened?

Druig stands waiting for some sort of answer and you blurt your first thought. "It was a boar."

"Well, it must have been some boar, huh?" He doesn't question your lie and you bet it on the wine. You nod to him trying your best to look as calm as possible. "Anyway, we'll be going deeper into the mountain. I'd... understand if you didn't want to continue."

"No! I'll stay, I have to see this through." You admit to get your mind on track. The man laughs heartily with a smack to your shoulder. The pain is searing but it grounds you to the moment. Druig leads you back to camp. He does most of the talking, while you try to calm yourself down unsuccessfully. Barbatos had followed you here, has been following you and probably still is. You're all too aware of every little rustle in the wind, every possible shake and stir in the air. This obsession will be your undoing.

The faint strum of a lyre follows your every step. Whether it's the tune of a bard's promise or an Archon's wraith sends a chill over your entire body.

THE GEO ARCHON Rex Lapis | wc. 1.2k+

For three thousand years you’ve been at the side of the Geo Archon Rex Lapis following the events of the Archon War.

For the first thousand years you thought you could fight him. After having dragged you back from the rubble of your home, he chained you to the foot of his throne. You thrashed, clawed, screamed and bled to get free. Any food offered you tossed, whenever he’d try to touch you you’d bear your teeth like an animal, and every single day you pulled at that chain. But days turned to month and month to years and years drained you until you couldn't fight anymore.

He breaks the chains when you got too weak run from his touch. Morax fed you by hand, held your chin to make you chew, he kept you close at all times and when you pushed he’d pull back harder. He nursed you till your strength returned and even when you got strong enough to run he never let you get far. He’d make the earth swallow you whole and spit you right back at his side where he made you think you belong.

For the next thousand years you had thought you could beg. Time brought upon something you never saw coming for the Geo Archon: change. When you met some four thousand years ago, he was ruthless. He massacred thousands and leveled the earth whenever he saw it fit, but he was different then. He had begun to changed.

His touch is gentle, his tone less demanding and his stare was more human. With as long as he had lived and seeing as so many of his treasured friends die, the reality of being the strongest — of being immortal — has finally set in. You had thought this change would help free you but your pleas were always met with this same look of sadness. Morax would tell you every single time, almost apologetic: you cannot leave.

You didn’t believe him, you never did and still don’t. It's only on the night you decided to run that you understand his sadness. You make it to the bridge of the Harbor, the one thing that you separated you from the rest of the world. The yaksha, the only one still living, didn’t chase you. The earth did not move to block your path. Freedom is so close. You ran across the bridge under the belief it would be all over like waking from a bad dream.

You should've known better. As soon as your foot crossed the end you were forced back. The pulse of it stunned you and almost left you winded when you fell to the floor. You were sure you weren’t followed. When you stood with a lot more cautiously, nothing seems out of the ordinary until you caught sight of it in the moonlight.

It was a barrier. Morax’s contract to you. A barricade that surrounded the entire Harbor to keep the all evil out, and you in.

You ran around the whole port, and that barrier was there to meet you head on. You even tried your luck out at sea, you had swam for the distant boat but all there was to greet you was bars to your prison. When you seam back to shore soggy and exhausted, Morax was there to greet you. He looked down at you with sad eyes and all you can hear were those words.

You cannot leave. You screamed and cursed his name till your voice broke that night.

And now, three thousand years later, you're left here.

“Please leave it all to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and we’ll see to their gentle passing.”

You bow to the grieving family as they make their way to the exit. Your movements are robotic; you bend deeper than you should and smile too cheerful for having just discussed the ceremonial process of their approaching burial. Playing human hasn't come easy for you…

“You’ve improved.”

…And neither has your hatred for the archon who imprisoned you. Well archon no more.

Morax has died, now replaced by this… Zhongli. His renounce of his divine position was a long time coming, you had seen it first hand. He lives his days posing as a mortal, the god that captured you is gone but you still cannot forgive him. You will not forget what he did to you.

You ignore what he said and move past him to the Director. You offer her your goodbyes and leave the building without sparing him a glance. His gaze follows you with that sadness he's always had. It's been decades since you found out about the barrier and ever since then he’s missed the sound of your voice. He couldn’t care what you said; you could promise to kill him or even expose his truth but all he would care for is the fact that you addressed him.

You walk for a long while. You go through the plaza, by the markets and down past the docks. You stop at a shoreline just off the docks — it's the farthest place you can go from the Harbor that grants you that little sense of freedom. You go there most nights to watch the sun set. Most nights you're alone, left to bask in your own thoughts of the past and what would have been. Some nights, like tonight, Zhongli joins you just before the sun has completely gone. He doesn’t speak to you because he knows you won’t answer. He just stands right by your side until you’ve had your fill and left for home. Tonight is different though, because this time he speaks and you aren’t prepared for it.

“My dear gemstone… I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”

In the distant past you aren’t sure what those words would have done to you. You would have probably gone insane, trapped in the thought of how someone can feel sorry and still do the things they did. A part of you thinks you would have killed him. Your powers still work although not as strong as they used to be without a human’s faith. You could have made a crystal from your tears so sharp it would have ended it all for you. You wouldn’t have succeeded but you would have kept fighting. You should have kept fighting.

Now three thousand years later, with the spirit of the god who caged you long gone, you aren’t sure what to do.

Oh. Your body thinks it best to cry.

Your shoulders shake with sobs. Your tears flow down your face in rivers of silver and break off into fragile droplets of diamonds.

Zhongli brings his hand up slowly, placing it gently on your shoulder opposite to him. He is still for a long moment waiting for you to break away from him. You don’t; you’ve lost your will to fight. It’s slow and careful the way he pulls you into his chest, like you’ll shatter the moment he envelops you completely. He holds you close while your soft cries mix in with the sounds of the waves draping the sand…

… and for the first time in a long time, you don’t try to leave his side.

THE HYDRO SOVEREIGN Nuevillette | wc. 2.1k+

"That one doesn't match the theme at all."

"How would you know you haven't even seen the flyer!"

"The flyers are everywhere. I can't miss them even if I wanted to!"

The three Melusine continue to argue amongst themselves over which eyeshadow to throw onto your face next. You have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from yelling to the archons above. This gala cannot be so important that it would warrant a criminal to attend dressed to the nines instead of behind bars.

Eight years. Eight long years since you've moved to the proclaimed nation of Justice, and seven of those years have been spent as a registered criminal under the watchful gaze of the judge who enforced your sentence: Neuvillette.

Being forced to live every moment with that man has become your hell. He insists that you accompany him on his every whim. Your there for his important office meeting, his court cases, his unusual habit of water tasting by the pier and his evening routine dinners at restaurants.

It is all done with you right by his side like a lap dog…and it's humiliating.

This isn't the relationship that should be shared between law enforcement and a criminal, but it seems you are the only person in all of Fontaine to give a damn.

The public sees your relationship as they do everything else here: entertainment.

The Judge and His Criminal: A Match Made at Trial.

News articles and tabloids headline with the two of you every other week. Each one just so happens to catch you both in some sort of intimate spotlight that couldn't be any farther from the truth, but it isn't like Neuvillette fights against them. Various citizens have sent you handwritten letters questioning about your relationship, paparazzi tackle you with questions and request for personal interviews as if you're some celebrity, he even has your parents under the impression that the rumors are true.

Your hands clench at your sides with the thought, dull nails digging into the inside of your palms. God how you wish it would end.

The chatter between the Melusines comes to a halt as the double doors are opened. You had thought it was a blessing sent from above, but the clatter of heeled boots makes you go stiff.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" The Melusine cheer, happy to see him as they scurry over to his side excitedly. You remain in your seat. They talk up to him, the bickering you had thought reached its vote returning with a vengeance. They each still insist on different colors for you to wear like it is life or death. The closed eye smile he offers in return shows he finds their little disagreement more amusing than as serious as they do themselves. He listens to every opinion nonetheless, taking in everything they all have to say with interest.

Then his eyes shift over to you.

"Don't worry. I'll take over."

You scoff, uncaring that everyone else in the room can hear you. The Melusine look to you and then back to Nuevillette who continues to smile down at them as if nothing is wrong. They nod to him one by one, then they wave to you goodbye before skipping out of the doors to leave you both alone in silence. You pick up the tea cup at your side, watching the liquid swirl around in the fine glass.

"The Melusine tell me you are not well. Might I know what troubles you?"

Neuvillette takes the seat in front of you once the room is clear and the doors shut, speaking to you with his normal neutral tone. He removes the tea from your hands just as you go to drink it, placing the cup back on the table. He continues where they have left off, grasping the brushes delicately as he brings them close to your eyes. It's soft the way he applies the eyeshadows, treating the brushes as if they aren't the finest material imported from Inazuma and would harm you if he applied too much pressure.

You don't bother to answer him, opting to look past him at the open window. Your silence doesn't bother him as much as it once did. You've long since given up your begging to be set free and now have chosen to go non-verbal in his presence after the first few years of your...parol.

He picks up a thinner pen once he believes he's done with shadow. Its an eyeliner pen.

"Don't move."

He prompts not that you have moved a muscle in this seat for the last thirty minutes, reluctantly sitting in wait for his arrival. Like an obedient dog.

One hand holds your chin tenderly, the other just barely touching the space above your eye. The Melusine had spent a great amount of time perfecting your look for this event and it would be a shame for him to ruin it.

You clearly do not share that same concern.

Just as he presses a bit harder into your skin to draw a line you jerk away. He is startled of course and draws the pen back but the damage is already done — a crooked line of black smeared from your eyebrow across your forehead. It isn't as bad as it may seem, just a quick makeup wipe away really but still Neuvillette looks dejected with the mess.

A smirk graces your lips at his expression. You might look like a fool from what you can see from the mirrors but you couldn't care less in this moment. "Shall we go."

You speak to yourself and rise in a new found spirit. You grab your coat from behind your chair and catch the sight of clouds outside the window in the corner of your eye. You expected the storm clouds, maybe even a tickle of rain - never did you expect the rumble of thunder.

Before you get the chance to pass Neuvillette, he grasps your forearm. The tenderness in his touch long since drowned, and for once you wince in his hold.

"A shame."

It's unexpected, his sudden turn. You're launched back into your seat, the force tipping over the desk beside you and pain running through your shoulders. There is a protest on your tongue, your first thought to tell him off if it wasn't for the dark glow in his eyes.

"I had thought you would grow complacent as time went on. But I've grown tired of your tantrums and this will be the last." The dragon speaks.

He is back on you in a quick second. Neuvillette's hand envelopes your mouth forcing your gaze to the side in a harsh grip. You cannot move, he crowds around you in the seat and shoves you deeper into the cushion. Your hands grip his own, trying to pry him off to no avail. He has you at his mercy yet again.

With your head turned directly into the mirrors at the vanity you watch in horror at what he does. He brings his other gloved hand to his lips, tongue darting out to wet the material with spit. He then brings the finger to your face starting to wipe away your mess.

You attempt to inch away, fighting with all your might to dodge his touch but that only causes him to push you further into the seat. The pain in your shoulders spikes again but his hand prevents your scream. Your hands thrash out determined to keep fighting as long as you can, but you can only do so much against the might of a dragon recently empowered.

Your spasmodic fighting is loud; you knock over another table spilling your tea cup, you swipe the makeup palettes onto the ground in a vocal clatter, something else falls you can't see and it shatters. You want someone to hear now, to burst through those doors and see just what a monster their highly praised Judge really is.

As the wrestling gets more aggressive, you know the people outside the office find it harder to ignore. Some turn their heads after hearing the various items hit the floor, but that is all. You want to have hope that they would hear your distress and come to your aid. Although, deep in your heart you know it won't ever happen. For what is your daily torment is their newest line of gossip.

The ones who look to the doors grow hot and red at the sudden sinful thoughts that flash through their heads. Others play at continuing their original tasks, a faint gossip starting through the masses as they openly say what they think is happening behind office doors. The last few of them actually do keep their noses deep within their files, acting as if this was a normal everyday thing as it has come to be.

When you finally burst open the double doors, they all go back to work hurriedly. Anger seethes from your being as you look throughout the office. Books are raised to cover faces, backs turn away to continue meaningless conversation, various fingers start toying with clothes to pick at lent. They don't care about you, and the quiet snickers of those few workers who don't care about being discreet stir up a sour feeling in you.

You hold back on lashing out at them, it would do nothing but make you look crazier than they already suspect. Instead you straighten your back and make haste to the doors.

As soon as you leave the building that suffocating weight is off your shoulders. The sky has cleared off with only faint remains of clouds. You take a deep breath of the fresh air, to calm yourself. Years upon years of being caged and you're finally free to think alone...wait.

You are alone.

Alone as you can be standing outside, but still alone. The gardes have not noticed you, and the streets are mostly barren thanks to the gala. You can escape. If you run now and hide off outside of the city they won't be able to find you in time. It's a chance chance to take, but you can't care now as your legs carry on their accord. Freedom is right in arms reach and won't miss the chance to take it...but nothing is ever that easy.

A man blocks your path before you can take another step. He is clad in a run of the mill tux, all black. His tie is strung out haphazardly and with the man's sleeves rolled up you can catch sight of the various bandages around both his arms and hands. A disheartened sigh leaves your lips.

Wriothesley scoffs himself, "what you aren't happy to see me?"

In truth, no. Trying to escape now would be asking for a greater punishment. No one can escape the wrath of the Duke and with his close relationship with Neuvillette it isn't worth asking for a cover up either. You put on your best smile, hands raising up his chest to fix the tie around his neck. "Just wish the day would go by faster."

His eyes never leave your own, even when your hands leave his body. The tie is perfectly in place now, though you both know he'll have taken it off by the time you get to the venue.

"You look good." He says suddenly and you pause. The compliment is genuine, the clothes you wear are personally tailored for you and fit snug yet freely enough for you to move without constraint. Wriothesley thinks the color suits you well and the details are a great addition from Liyue. You smile at him again, this one a lot more genuine and he can definitely tell with the way your face wrinkles.

You want to thank him, should have thanked him. But the sound of heels catches your attention over all else and the words crawl right back down your throat. "Shall we go." Neuvillette's hand clamps around your wrist like a handcuff, voice curt. It has been a while since the Duke has seen the man this displeased or you this upset. Wriothesley looks down at the Iudex's gloved hands. He can catch sight of teeth marks in the leather material and a bit of smudged powder along the print of his thumb.

"Is everything alright? I’d hate to get between-"

"Everything is as it should be." Neuvillette interrupts quickly, stare stone cold.

Wriothesley makes no comment against it, at least not here anyway.

All he does is nod, leading you all to the awaiting personal chariot. Neuvillette moves his arm, firmly locking your forearm on his own. You thrash a bit, although it takes one pinch to your skin to stop you from causing another scene.

To the public, you are living the life of royalty. But you know nothing has changed, you remain a prisoner chained to Nuevillette... and he isn't afraid to pull back on the leash when you show signs of bearing your teeth.

pre-note | got completely swamped with college work and now summer work is completely beating my ass ( currently neglecting it as i finish this ) so deepest apologies for the late response!!!!!

extended a/n | my first ever anon i feel so famous now! had a blast revisiting this idea and building more into their personalities, thanks so much for the ask!! i sadly had to exclude a few characters from this :/ they wouldn’t have fit this particular scene as they wouldn't tolerate behavior like this in as healthy of a way as the ones above i hope that’s okay! also ik you asked for a bit of fluff and the only one who really got that was zhongli — only because out of all the characters he is the only one i can see changing from his old way of handling the reader if that makes sense!! if you have anymore thought do not be afraid to send an ask ( promise to complete them in a more timely manner next time around T-T )

#neuvillete x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin imagines #[ gem’s timestamps — ⌚️ ]#also if anyone else wants to send an ask about anything the box will always be open

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fourtyforever · 9 months ago

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Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

#fic rec #f1 fic rec #maxiel #charlos #yukierre #loscar #landoscar #twinklaren #strollonso #brocedes #hope you all enjoy :P

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erogenousmind · 3 months ago

Text

Executive Toy

Mrs. Duncan, in my office please.

The order echoed in Rose's mind as she closed the double doors behind her, and strode across the large, sparsely furnished office until she stood a few feet in front of his desk. She tried to look every part the administrative assistant she was employed as. Her skirt was short but tasteful as was the hair she wore down, stopping at the bottom of her neck. She felt her makeup made her look professional but still attractive, as she hoped her ensemble as a whole did. She'd always found her boss attractive, not that she would ever act on it. For a while she had been quite smitten by some combination of his power, his wealth, his looks, and his cool confidence. She tried not to lean into those feelings too much, but it probably made her better at her job.

"You called, Mr. Aurum?"

He raised a hand and gestured toward the large seat behind Rose. Following his cue, she sat and looked at him expectantly. He considered her in silence for a moment, holding her eyes with his, before he spoke.

"My schedule is open for the rest of the day, yes? No meetings?"

"That's correct, sir. You had work you wanted to do for the presentation to the board next week, and there was something related to an upcoming R&D project you wanted time to complete, but no meetings."

"Good." He nodded. While her employer was Rose's senior by almost a decade, he still maintained the appearance of a man in the prime of life. He radiated the timeless aura of the executive, complete with pressed suit, clean shave, and a head of hair that looked like they had been placed one by one. Rose had often thought he would have fit in equally well in the executive suites of any of the last 3 generations.

"I have no use for false modesty. I am successful...we are successful because I am harder working and better at what I do than anyone else. The meetings, the presentations, the addresses, the galas. They are a necessary part of success. But I am at my best when I can focus on my work without unwanted distraction." He emphasized the word as he looked down to one of the few objects on his desk not clearly devoted to productivity, and Rose felt her gaze drawn down with his.

He reached forward to pull back a single ball on the Newton's cradle and released it. It fell with a sharp clack sending the ball on the far end up into the air and repeating the process. A regular beat reverberated in the empty space of the office. Clack. Clack. Clack.

"For the longest time, I didn't understand the purpose of the executive toy," he continued, tilting his head to the side as he watched the balls swing back and forth. "I thought them a frivolous thing. A status symbol or a tool to stave off boredom for those who didn't earn what they have. But then I began to understand. Because it takes focus to achieve what you didn't think you could. It takes concentration. You have to train your mind to be able to focus so completely. To tune everything else out. And sometimes you need to let your mind rest. Allow it to process what it has learned. How it has changed. And when you have accomplished the task that was set before you, you need to be rewarded."

Rose was listening still, but she watched the cradle as the balls swung back and forth, her eyes jumping between each end to see the next ascent and descent. She had wondered for a moment if she needed to be taking notes, but it seemed much more natural to focus on what she was being told. To watch. And to listen. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack...

"Sometimes it can feel difficult to proceed," he continued. "Sometimes you don't know what to do next. And that's when it can be so powerful to focus. You can even find yourself doing exactly what you need to automatically. So often your body and your mind know the solutions to your problems without you realizing it. You just need to get out of the way. And so, when you can find something else to focus on, that deeper part of you, that part that knows exactly what it is supposed to do can take over. All you need to do is let it happen."

Something blocked her view for the briefest of moments, but Rose quickly regained her focus on the cradle. She was aware of movement. Her arms or her legs had adjusted somehow. Her head was in a different spot. She felt...different. But that was okay. Her body knew what to do. She needed to focus... Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack...

"You can imagine what a relief it can be, when you've been working so hard. How tired your mind can become. When there is something there that can draw your attention away. Can satisfy some part of you that had gone unfulfilled. Something you can pour yourself into. Lose yourself in it. Feel it consume you. And even when your mind shifts focus again, it can still be there, in the background. Still filling that role. Still providing your mind with what it needs. Allowing you to continue to achieve. To do exactly what you need to do. Your mind can even stay focused right here. Sinking down into it. Everything else forgotten. Your mind has been trained. It knows what to do. Even if you don't need to think."

Empty eyes stared ahead now, no longer focusing on the balls as they continued to swing. Behind them, Rose's empty head watched, passively. Listened. Her mind knew what to do. Her body knew what to do. She didn't need to think.

"And eventually, you can drop so deep into what you are doing, you lose yourself so completely, that all of you ends up right here. Your mind tied to the motion. Your thoughts, your will, even your sense of self all collected right here. Moving with it. Joined to it. Controlled by it. So completely enthralled in it, that all it takes." As he spoke, his hand steadily moved to catch a falling ball as it landed, freezing the motion of the toy on his desk. "And everything stops," he concluded.

Rose sat frozen. Her arms hung limply by her sides. Her mouth hung open, head hanging just a little to the side. Her eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering. Her mind was open. Empty. But her body knew what to do. She had been trained for this. Slowly her hands began to show signs of life. Began to move from where they had fallen.

"And when you have focused so well, it is only natural that you reward yourself. There is no better way to train your mind than a reward for doing as you were supposed to do. You find the best ways to reward yourself. To give yourself that pleasure. To allow yourself to surrender to it."

Rose's hands were not obstructed as they began to roam her body. Her clothes lay scattered around her seat, forgotten. A moan escaped from her still open mouth at the word pleasure but she wasn't aware of it. If she was aware of anything, it was only the growing heat as her hand began to prod and pull and tease at her body more urgently. As her legs spread and she pulled her feet up on either side of her, allowing her fingers to explore deeply and, unwittingly, to give a better view.

The toy on his desk still and silent. Aurum paused to admire the toy in the seat in front of him, writhing and panting. It was amazing how excellent this was for his productivity. He worked surprisingly well just knowing she was there, able to see her out of the corner of his eye while he labored away. And when he would look up to rest, or to think, there was something centering about watching her mindlessly working herself into a more and more frenzied state for his viewing pleasure. And when he finished his work for the day, he knew well enough that he needed to reward himself. No better motivation to work quickly and efficiently.

Rose, his favorite toy, swayed slightly from the work of her hands on her body, rocking back and forth. Her mind was aware that she was the best toy. She was serving her purpose. She was achieving her goal. Their goal. Her body shook. Her hands varied their speed. Slowing when needed to keep her body and her arousal right where he wanted them. Speeding when she felt his eyes on her. At the end of the night, she would be aware as she walked out of this office, dressed and every bit the professional she had been when she walked in, knowing only that she had done her job well, oblivious to what that job entailed.

He started at her a moment longer, hunger in his eyes. He smiled, pleased with himself and with the progress they had made. They would both earn their reward tonight. But there was much to do first. He turned to his side and began his work in earnest. Her head still empty, Rose shuddered as a wave of pleasure rolled through her body.

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johnbrand · 2 months ago

Text

Full-Time Members

“Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence!” Andy chuckled. “Get over here, dickhead!”

Nathaniel swaggered over to the group, each step in his attire deceptively erotic. The starched white shirt rubbing across his sensitive nipples, the tailored khakis juggling his testicles in a back-and-forth moose knuckle. The suede bluchers, the shoulder pads in his jacket, the overly-expensive sunglasses perched on top of his perfect nose. Anyone could guess what type of man Nathaniel was just by looking at his outfit, but the four boys he drew closer to were focusing on what was in his hands.

“Is that…champagne?” Harry’s eyes were wide with admiration.

“Three bottles of it too?” Zack’s eyes were wide with wonder.

“What could possibly be the occasion?” Ricky’s eyes were wide with longing.

Nathaniel drew closer, disposing of the bottles and flutes beside his best buds. “The reception staff offered them to me, a welcome package for our admittance into their fine establishment.”

Andy frowned, “That’s a bit strange, right? Do they know we are only here because we won an auction for a day pass?”

“It’s a country club man, they’re supposed to be filthy rich!” Harry immediately got up and started pouring himself a glass. He did his best not to spill onto his shorts or the sweater his girlfriend had gifted him.

“They’re probably just showing off,” Zack added, his disdain for traditional culture evident by his counterculture outfit: an all-black simple tee and skinny jeans ensemble. “Probably are trying to get us to become full-time members.”

Ricky was already hoisting up his first glass to his lips, drops splashing onto his unruly beard. “And most importantly, it’s free liquor!”

Nathaniel watched contentedly as the three downed their glasses. He could sense the slightest hesitation from Andy.

“Have you tried any of it yet, Nathan?” Andy questioned.

“Certainly, and it was quite divine,” Nathaniel responded. “But why not ask the other fellows for further conclusions?”

“It’s the finest drink I’ve ever had,” Harry replied, scratching at his legs a bit before they disappeared under two white legs of slacks.

“It’s clean, delicate,” Zack noted, toying with the intricate front bit of hair that was meant to appear natural but was actually tediously maintained. “A lovely body of flavor.”

Ricky’s statement was as tight as the rolled up sleeves of his designer button-up. “And it’s champagne.”

Nathaniel made no visible reaction as the preppification completely rewrote his friends. His eyes did not waver as Harry’s curls were mowed down into a lackluster business cut, while Zack’s counterculture apparel burst out into the traditional blazer-button down-slacks combo, or when Ricky’s facial hair fell away to reveal a face that had never seen the inside of a lower-class home. Nathaniel made no visible reaction, but he did experience great satisfaction. He was disappointed however when he realized Andy had still not yet poured himself a glass.

“Is there a problem with the gift, Chandler?” Nathaniel allowed the presumptuous snarl to creep out of his voice.

“It truly is marvelous,” Harrison’s eyes were wide with arrogance.

“There is nothing quite like it,” Zachariah’s eyes were wide with vain.

“What could possibly be stopping you from having a glass?” Cedric’s eyes were wide with greed.

Andy’s eyes were wide with fear.

The photographer was out a few minutes later, just as Nathaniel had recommended. The country club liked to promote their organization through whatever means they could, including social media. And Nathaniel knew he and his men would enjoy the extra attention and promotion, particularly Chandler, who always went the extra mile to stand out just a tad more. Today, that meant a salmon blazer paired with the lightest of mint-colored shorts.

The crew had no problem posing for the photographer, their cheers to becoming the newest full-time members of the country club wholly authentic.

#male tf #male transformation #preppification

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halfvalid · 1 year ago

Text

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore.

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two.

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you.

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.”

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship.

“The Going Merry?”

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours.

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!”

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.”

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below.

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky.

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away.

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself.

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon.

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.”

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.”

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.”

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.”

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.”

“Yeah, but I know swords.”

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.”

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.”

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?”

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.”

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.”

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.”

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area.

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?”

You snorted. “No.”

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?”

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.”

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.”

“Was that a question?”

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?”

Zoro actually smiled at that.

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?”

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.”

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was.

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh.

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck.

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength.

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack.

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.”

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you.

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.”

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.”

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him.

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted.

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.”

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect.

“He’s good, huh?”

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.”

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?”

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.”

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.”

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?”

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth.

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?”

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.”

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.”

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?”

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.”

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?”

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled.

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!”

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.”

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut.

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.”

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted.

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet.

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table.

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him.

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.”

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets.

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?”

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.”

“You don’t know why?”

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking.

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring.

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies.

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch.

Just your luck. It was Zoro.

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water.

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties.

Zoro was avoiding you.

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates.

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment.

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.”

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.”

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes.

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it.

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?”

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.”

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—”

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?”

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy.

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?”

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.”

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.”

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!”

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look.

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.”

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded.

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark.

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry.

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts.

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you.

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso.

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will.

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw.

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you.

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points.

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you.

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck.

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said.

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.”

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?”

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap.

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.”

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?”

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms.

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.”

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.”

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.”

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?”

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?”

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.”

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered.

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside.

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest.

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.”

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least.

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.”

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze.

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow.

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?”

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side.

“You know a lot.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn.

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned.

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?”

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.”

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?”

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.”

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.”

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright.

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again.

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch.

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh.

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.”

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them.

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.”

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.”

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat.

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?”

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.”

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.”

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.”

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection.

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut.

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.”

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else.

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest.

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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restless-soulz · 2 months ago

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HOW THE HOUSEWARDENS ACT W/ A BABY (not their own, they're all still underage)

RIDDLE:

-man this guy is so bad with babies, but damn it if he isn't efficient

-he'll make sure that the physical needs are taken care of, but that's not entirely what a baby needs.

-but a baby can't tell you what exactly it needs so it'll just be stressful for both of them until he figures it out

-it might be a while

-doesn't do super well with physical affection (giving)

-he probably won't burn down the house to make a bottle for the baby but he will stress about the temperature and it'll go cold before he's satisfied and it'll repeat the process ad infinitum

LEONA:

-pls the baby he knew was cheka, and he was easy he's got this (NOT)

-lion man just wants to sleep and does not appreciate being woken up for feedings or changings or anything else

-doesn't care about bottle temp, milk is milk

-won't show but is a little stressed about having claws vs incredibly fragile baby skin

-genuinely confused to as why not all babies are not like Cheka

-after a while he'll get down the baby language and be so fast at it, just to maximize his sleep

-hey if it works it works

AZUL:

-another one not really fit for children

-would try to foist off the child to the leeches, and then realize that unfortunately he is the much better option (because morays eat their young)

-he will do his best tho and he will do an almost perfect job

-he just...overestimates human baby milestones

-it's ok, it can go one of two ways. either the parent is delighted by fast progress or Azul feels embarrassed

-like riddle, doesn't super love the whole physical contact thing

-also secretly i'd think he'd be great to talk to for anything involved in being recognized outside of your children or a body dysmorphia kind of depression cause same

KALIM:

-mans has 40 siblings or something

-i trust him, but he can be a little...cloud heavy

-he will make sure that baby is cuddled, and fed, and played, but sleeping is not his thing. adorable, but babies are AWAKE around him

-plus he's had servants that take care of the gross parts so he's clueless about how messy babies usually are

-jamil would lose his mind having two people to take care of, one infinitely more dependent than the other

-as much as i love him, don't give him a baby

VIL:

-he wouldn't try very hard

-babies are hard and he's not planning to babysit very long, he has more important things to do, but in the meantime

-this baby will be TAKEN CARE OF

-he bought a lot of...well...everything and all the excess goes to the parents.

-the cutest outfits you've ever seen

-detests changing and other gross parts but will do it

-does not like the not sleeping part, but he will admit they are very cute

IDIA:

-you're playing with fire here

-the only baby he's ever been around was Ortho, and that...ended terribly

-panicking every single second, and rapidly googling every time the baby breathes a little weird

-builds an automated bottle warmer and baby rockers so he has minimal contact with the baby as possible

-until Ortho says that skin to skin or physical contact is best for optimal health

-he'll whine and cry but do it, for a super short amount of time

-made an automatic changing station so he never does the gross parts

MALLEUS:

-adores children. they do not adore him.

-he can scare them a bit being all dark colors and rbf

-but he does theoretically know how to take care of a human baby

-i don't think silver should count since he's more of a changling

-will not put the baby down unless absolutely necessary (my kind of guy)

-the baby lives in a singular too big shirt or the most regal ensemble you've ever seen. no in between

-doesn't bother with changing since he can just magic it away

-also buys everything for the baby and keeps half for when he hopes to be asked to babysit again

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sunnydayaoe · 2 months ago

Text

{Dress up}

[CCCC FIC] Contains: Platonic Soul and Whole, sfw Petre[~4,500 words]

Soul really could not be normal. Clutched in His hands, the cutest little calico cat ear headband he'd ever seen. He gestured to himself, to Whole, to them, voice squeaky, "Is that-" for me? He really couldn't finish any sentence today, staring into His eyes: Deep brown and probably considering just how pathetic Soul was being. He shouldn't have asked. He could feel the shame, red like his halo in the midst of cacophony, creeping across his face. -- Dress up!!! Whole buys Soul some cat ears :]

Fic under cut! or on AO3

One would assume, wrongfully, that he would know better than this. He had assumed he knew better than this. Mocking him, taunting even, a little plastic bag carried the cause of his strife. Innocently sitting on his kitchen counter, contents spilling out the slightest bit: calico cat ears and a matching tail.

Pathetic to be so worked up over such a simple thing. It made him infinitely grateful Mind and Heart had left for a walk earlier and his Soul hadn't left its room for the day yet; Whole assumed he was just enjoying some alone time with both its ids and Whole out of the house.

He cringed as his thoughts drifted back to his Soul. The calico themed ensemble had been bought for him, after all.

Nothing was wrong with them, at a glance. Plush, soft to the touch, colored bright and cheery, they seemed exactly what someone who'd buy them would want out of them. What had drawn his eye in the first place, the signature black and orange splotching reminding him terribly of his Soul, looked charming even in the shitty kitchen lighting. He groaned, slumped over the counter, annoyed with how easily he was taken in by them.

It wasn't just that he'd gotten cat ears for his... friend, before he could think better of it. It was that Soul would definitely balk at the idea of wearing them.

He didn't think there was any shame in wearing cat themed paraphernalia, didn't even think Soul would find it shameful to wear them, but that wasn't the problem here. Soul already had fuzzy ears and a short little tail, rendering this wholly unnecessary.

Frankly, he would just look downright goofy in the whole ensemble. Curved, sharp horns with a cat-ear headband at the base, further down real goat's ears, and then even further a fake cat-tail to hang beside its real fawn. And, well... It would look cute. He just didn't think his Soul would have a similar view.

He slid his hand over his face, another noise escaping his lips. This was just embarrassing.

He knew Soul didn't need any new equipment for pet regression: at least, he'd never asked for or made any himself. Doing this, getting him things he definitely didn't want and would probably feel stupid wearing, was another tally in the mess he'd made of his Soul's existence.

He wished there was a guide to being someone’s... to being someone’s.

He'd flipped through article after article about " how to be a good roommate, " " all the things that only your good friends would do for you, " and even several blogs about being a good caretaker, yet none of them seemed to know the answers for all of... this.

He should throw them away. A waste of money, a waste of time, but what wasn't, nowadays? It'd be a bigger waste if Soul saw them and finally realized Whole wasn't worth as much as he clearly thought he was. He could see it so clearly. His Soul's eyes, wide with wonder and adoration darkening with understanding; seeing Whole for who he clearly was, a waste of time and effort.

Maybe that would be a blessing: getting it over with. It probably wouldn't fix anything. Soul- and Heart and Mind- were all stuck with him, their only Whole.

He shook his head. He couldn't be getting bogged down by thoughts like that now.

The bag was in his hand and he was halfway down the hallway before he could start overthinking again. His own trash-can would be best; he could just imagine the reactions if any of the three found his mistake in a more communal trash-can. He'd never live it down.

He made it to his room without interruption, thankfully.

With a 'oomf' he flopped into his desk chair, the bag ending up on the desk itself. He should throw it away, but...

The headband was in his hands, horribly soft. He fidgeted with it, and tried not to imagine them on Soul. Failed, like many other things, but the picture did bring a smile to his face. His Soul would look extremely goofy in them; adding the tail to the mental image brought out a giggle.

He was just having a little thought experiment before he threw them away, that was all. It wasn't hurting anyone.

Maybe this earned him karma's ire though, or maybe it was another bullet on the long list of problems he'd caused. Either way, lady luck was not smiling upon him.

His door creaked open, Soul peeking in, a smile drawing across his face in an instant. "Whole, you're back! Would you like to ha-"

He knew why he stopped.

Single visible eye dilated in, focused on the headband in his hands. It reminded him of that searching look Soul got on his face anytime he hadn't seen Whole for any notably long amount of time; searching, intense- looking for faults, for why he cared about him at all, probably.

"Is that...?" Soul gestured vaguely, like he didn't know what it was trying to say but trusted Whole implicitly to understand.

Whole did Not understand.

------

The day had been going well. Almost unreasonably well.

Heart and Mind had been civil, even affectionate, all morning. They'd left the house together some time early in the evening. A part of him {one he had been listening to less and less as of late} feared they wouldn't be returning, at least not in one piece. Most of him just hoped they got back early enough to join them for dinner.

Most of the unease was centered on the fact that Whole had gone shopping, though.

It made him feel clingy and a bit pathetic to worry so much when all He was doing was a simple errand, but oh, Harmonia, was it hard not to imagine something horrible happening to his Whole while he was not there.

It was fine, he could deal with it! Harmonia would return, probably with a little extra treat He'd gotten while He was out, and a satisfied smile. Getting out would be good for Him. Soul really should just... calm down.

That was what he'd tried to tell himself all morning, anyway.

He could feel the stress sinking in further, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up against Harmonia and forget all the stress of being apart. That would be dreadfully embarrassing though. He was probably going shopping to get away from them for a little bit {and, well... Shop.}, Soul attaching himself to His hip right as He got back would be tantamount to going right against Harmonia's will.

He could be normal! He... he could be normal just as soon as he gave Him a little check in. The footsteps, quiet as they were, let him know Harmonia had gotten back from His little trip. Maybe Soul could ask if He'd want lunch. Maybe they could eat it together...

He slapped his cheeks, shaking his head out like a dog. Getting ahead of himself again, daydreams filling his head. He needed to get a grip!

Just... just be normal, he reminded himself, with a final steadying breath. His door had been left open a crack, and with that note he pushed Harmonia's door open.

"Whole, you're back! Would you like to ha-" the sentence remained unfinished.

He really could not be normal.

Clutched in His hands, the cutest little calico cat ear headband he'd ever seen. He let out a near inaudible noise, though from what he could see He didn't seem to notice.

He gestured to himself, to Whole, to them, voice squeaky, "Is that-" for me? He really couldn't finish any sentence today, could he.

Whoever said that eyes were the window to the soul was clearly lying out of their ass, because what Soul saw in Harmonia’s eyes was not himself. Deep brown and probably considering just how pathetic Soul was being. He shouldn't have asked. He could feel the shame, red like his halo in the midst of cacophony, creeping across his face.

What was he waiting for? Soul to finish his sentence? That ship had clearly sailed and crashed… maybe he was trying to figure out how to let Soul down gently; that made more sense. His Harmonia was so sweet, of course He wouldn't want to be too cruel in His rejection.

Of course those sweet little trinkets wouldn’t be for Soul.

Whole moved, snapping Soul out of his thoughts immediately. Eyes wide, searching for any sign of what Soul was supposed to do. How he could be perfect.

His arms, holding the headband, had curled inwards. Like praying {like Soul}.

Harmonia, Whole, cleared His throat, like He didn't know what to say. He didn't say anything for a moment longer, awkward. Another cough. Soul was slightly worried He might just be sick. Soul's throat ached in sympathy, or maybe that was just because he'd stopped breathing.

"Soul-" He finally started, "This is- I just... I bought these earlier. Ah, while I was doing errands." He cringed, like He didn't really want to be talking about this. Talking to Soul.

Soul should probably answer, "Oh." No sound came out when he tried to continue, so he quickly shut his mouth. Maybe he would Not be answering with more than that. Maybe he should just walk out the door and dig himself a pit to lie in. Maybe Heart had the right idea.

Whole cringed back even further at that; Soul definitely made a mistake. Should he... try talking again? Before Soul could try another attempt at normal conversation, a futile effort, Harmonia was continuing.

"You can, ah, have them. If you want." He made a little motion to come closer; it was kind of an awful effort, motion aborted half-way through like He was embarrassed to be taking up more space than He already was.

It was all Soul needed though, and with a motion more practiced and sure than anything else that evening Soul had stumbled forward and landed on his knees before Him. The position, the cat ears it wasn't even wearing, the fact he'd felt stressed all day... It was hard to stay present, to not regress.

His Whole was already so stressed, He probably didn't want to deal with that right now. Soul could keep it together, for Him. {He knew he couldn't. Everything already felt a little fuzzy. Weak, but maybe Harmonia would forgive him.}

His face was a little twisted up, something sour that quickly smoothed out into calm. "Do you want me to put it on you...?"

Soul thought that was already the plan. He really kept embarrassing himself, didn't he? He did a little almost imperceptible nod, something Harmonia had to lean down to see.

Finally something that wasn't negative; He smiled, sweet and small and lopsided and perfect. "Let me..." He murmured, quiet, before slowly reaching out with the headband. Soul tried to stay still, really, he did. His efforts were fruitless, because the instant His hands dipped around his ears, gently sliding the headband on, he was had.

As if his body and mind were not one {ironic, because he was not the one split in three in this room,} he leaned into the hands with a hum. Warm, soft, kind. He made a noise at that, surprised and amused. With the smallest adjustment to the headband, His hands moved forwards to cup his face instead, tilting it up to stare up at Him.

"Cute...."

Soul's face was bright red. That didn't stop him from leaning in until nearly his entire head was supported by Harmonia's hands though. He scooted the smallest bit closer, head nearly in His lap.

Harmonia's thumb gently rubbing along his cheek was the last straw. He shouldn't have expected not to fall like this, He was just being too indulgent, affectionate. How was he supposed to resist...?

He nuzzled into His hands, shuffling the last few inches closer until he could set his head in His lap. Like a lapdog, or perhaps a very large cat, he looked up at Harmonia, eyes half-lidded. Harmonia seemed taken aback by his boldness, but Soul was too busy enjoying the feeling of His soft denim pants, skin-warmed, against his cheek to notice.

Another moment frozen, a moment where Soul started to almost regret his actions, almost came back up. It only lasted that single second though, His hands beginning to move again. One stayed against his cheek, the other drifting back behind his ear. "Are you a kitty right now...? I should have expected this." A ting of self deprecation, like He couldn't get over how stupid He was.

Soul wouldn't be standing for that, not when Harmonia was the definition of perfection. With a whine he nuzzled against his lap, staring up at Him with large baleful eyes. His arms reached up, paws on his knees. The picture of a pleading kitten.

He laughed, attention redirected back to Soul. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to worry you, bud."

That laugh was nearly angelic. Everything he’d ever need to hear for the rest of his life. He hummed, nuzzling further against Harmonia, trying to elicit more giggles and coos.

Anything to make his Whole happy. Anything to keep Him content to lower Himself to his presence.

It was like that for a few more moments, Harmonia’s hands carding through his hair. His nails were bit short, blunt, but still wonderful against his scalp. Still, like all good things, it could not last.

“Soul,” He started, before stopping. Words coming out before He’d considered them, or maybe the pause added in for some secretive sort of purpose Soul wasn't able to get, world so fuzzy at this point.

The lack of structure was unideal though. He couldn’t help but be reminded of that awful song He would sing when existence became too taxing. Each word drifting further and further from one another…

“Do you want off the floor?” A question interrupted his musing. "You can, ah-" He paused, the hesitance back, His face a bit red, "you can sit in my lap, if you want..."

He nodded with barely a moment's consideration. The floor was nice, if only because he had easy access to Harmonia. His lap, though…? That sounded heavenly.

The right answer, of course. Smiling down at him like a forgiving deity, practically glowing. It made him forget to start moving, just admiring instead. The smile faltered after a beat of him proceeding to do absolutely nothing, confusion clouding His eyes. Seeming to realize Soul wasn't going to be getting up himself, He reached down, arms a bit hesitant as they curled around him.

Of course Soul was nothing but relaxed in His arms, nearly going limp the second he could feel Him supporting him. A faux purr started up, the noise interrupted every other second with a giggle. He needed to calm down- but it was so so hard to, when He kept looking at him like that.

"And there we go!" With one last motion and a little scrabbling from Soul he was finally in His lap. "That better, bud?"

He nodded, face pressed to His shoulder. All the stress that had been plaguing him seemed to melt away in His arms, warm and present and undeniably there. It was hard, at times, to believe this was really his reality, but even dreams didn't feel this nice: undeniable proof that concord had been achieved.

And could anyone blame him? He’d like to see a single person who wouldn’t melt into these arms.

Gentle cooing, hands slowly carding through his hair… on second thought, the idea of someone else getting this instead of him sounded awful.

He cuddled closer, the side of his left horns bumping into Harmonia’s chin. In his haste, he finally noticed a detail about the calico cat ears: they had bells. Little jingly ones that made a sound anytime he moved his head. Delightful!

He shook his head, trying to get more of the clinking noises. This also earned him a squeak from Harmonia as his horns were shaken about as well.

He pushed Soul away the slightest bit, hands gentle on his shoulders, “be a bit more careful, bud? Those horns are sharp…”

He didn’t look too angry though, just amused at his giddiness. So forgiving and perfect! He leaned in to nuzzle his face, careful of His horns this time. His cheeks were warm and only slightly rough with stubble.

Harmonia laughed as he nuzzled against Him, trailing along the side of His head. Tucking his nose into His collarbone, he pressed the rest of his face to His neck. The way he shook and rumbled with laughs felt so nice…

His hands trailed along Soul’s back, lightly scratching just enough to feel through his shirt. Arching into it with a happy little hum, close enough to a purr to make him feel all fuzzy inside.

Then they stopped, leaving Soul to whine in confusion. Removing himself from His very comfortable embrace, head tilted back to look up at Harmonia, he let out another confused noise. Why no petting…? His Whole was smiling, crinkly in the corners like an old wrapper, saying cushy soft little things like, “don’t worry bud…” and “you can keep going,” so Soul probably hadn’t been Bad, so what could it be?

His attention was drawn to movement at the corner of his eye, Harmonia had reached for a bag on his desk. Plastic, probably from his shopping trip earlier… what could… oh!

Stoic and normally so composed, he could do nothing but perk up in excitement; was it a treat? Did He have a treat for the Soul? For being so very good and nice and responsible all the time?

His halo must have brightened at that, because He squinted a little, face scrunched up further, face painted a bit yellow by the light. He looked like what every painting Soul had tried to make strove to be: his Harmonia, bathed in the light of harmony.

He didn’t pay that any mind, more taken in with the possibility of a snack or toy. Shifting around and leaning over Harmonia's arms, using His chair for leverage he tried to stick his face into the bag.

“Wouh!” Harmonia snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him flush against His chest before he could investigate further, the chair wobbling precariously from all the sharp movements the two were doing, “settle down Atlas, I’ll show you in a moment.”

He squirmed and grumbled in His arms for a moment before doing as asked. Even without the treat this was still pretty nice…

With a flourish the treasure was finally presented to him. A matching calico tail to the ears he’d been given, equally adorable and colorful.

This confidence waned as quickly as it came, the arm around his waist relaxing and the hand holding the tail stiffening a little. “Do you like it…?”

He answered with a happy trill, head butting His hand affectionately, careful not to catch any skin, or the tail, with his horns. Harmonia relaxed into His chair with that, eyes softening with relief as He let His fingers card through Soul’s hair.

“Want help putting it on?”

He nodded, squirming around on Harmonia’s lap until He was in a position where He actually could put it on Soul, half straddling Him. His Whole’s arms reached around him again, one just holding him still against His chest and the other actually clipping the tail to one of his belt loops.

With that, He was done, leaning back to admire His work. Soul tried to do the same, but there wasn’t really much room to do so in Harmonia’s lap. He turned a bit, motions awkward and giving him very little opportunity to actually see the tail or feel it swish around.

Gentle, like He didn’t know if this would net Him a positive reaction, he offered a suggestion. “Would it be easier to see that out of my lap?” He quickly continued, not frantic but not wholly relaxed, “you can always sit with me later… I can just get some work done, and you can enjoy that yourself, on the floor nearby…? I ah… don’t really have any cat-toys…”

The idea of being separated from Harmonia wasn’t the most appealing, but he really did want to move around more… if he really could just come back anytime he wanted, there probably wasn’t any harm in a little play-time; if he didn’t like it he could just come right back.

With that decided, he slipped off Harmonia’s lap and onto the floor, already feeling bereft of His warmth. An encouraging, “have fun bud!” Kept him from returning straight away though; he was going to have fun!

Doing a tight little circle to watch how his tail moved around with the motion, he couldn’t help but feel a little euphoric at the swaying faux fur. It was very very cute. But maybe he went around a few too many times: he ended up a bit dizzy after.

It was very much worth it though, because all the spinning reminded him of the little jingly bells on his cat ears.

He gave it a good shake, admiring how clearly the sound rang out. Batting at it a few times for good measure, knocking it a little loose. Half-on half-off it wasn't as comfortable.

Trying to fix it, he brought his paws back to his head and tried to bat at it again. Of course, this only knocked it off fully. Landing on the floor with a few more little tinkles. He could have probably just grabbed it and put it back on, but it did a little bounce and it just kept Jingling and he was pouncing before he had a conscious thought.

Batting around the improvised cat toy was way more enjoyable than it should have been -maybe because Soul hadn't really gotten to play with toys in kitten space before.

Harmonia had stopped watching him after a little bit, and he let himself fully get into the zone. One, probably too forceful, hit landed the headband on Whole's bed.

He made quick work of scrambling over to the bed and jumping up, enjoying the way his tail trailed behind him when he moved fast enough. The springs protested the motion, but he paid them no mind, seizing his prize.

Mantling over it, he just enjoyed the fact he'd "caught" it. Slowing down like that let him process the fact he was in Harmonia's bed, too. Soft and unmade, it was, overall, extremely normal. That didn't stop a little nervous feeling enveloping him, scared he was doing something wrong.

Looking over, He didn't seem to be paying much attention, though after Soul stayed quiet for a bit He looked over. Apparently not seeing anything amiss, He gave a little wave, before getting back to work.

So this was... allowed. He guessed it makes sense, Whole hadn't made any other fuss about him being on the furniture as a kitten, so this wasn't that strange. Slightly more secure in the fact that he wasn't breaking any rules, he flopped over and cradled the belled headband.

His bed smelled nice {or well... it didn't smell That nice, but it smelled like Him}, and he couldn't resist the urge to roll around a little. He stretched, enjoying the ambience. It was.... pleasant;: calm. He hadn't really let himself relax all day, too many distinct variables to keep track of.

Now though... he could just relax in His bed, content that things were okay. Mind and Heart were still out, but that felt less pressing. He knew they were getting along now, spending time together...

And centering, grounding, Harmonia worked at his computer several feet away. Safe.

It was all just... so very nice.

------

"We're home!"

Heart and Mind had come back, Heart's cheery voice signaling their return. Just as his fingers were starting to cramp too, a sure sign Whole had been working too long.

He stretched out his hands with a groan, taking off his head-set as well. As he got up, his eyes were drawn to his bed, where Soul was sound asleep. He'd assumed the third had left, quiet for so long, but it seems he just tuckered himself out instead.

After a moment's consideration, he decided waking Soul up was probably for the best; it was around dinner time now, and the Sun and Moon probably grabbed food while they were out.

Creeping up to the bed, quiet in a way he probably didn't need to be-- he was going to be waking him up either way-- he sat down next to him.

His Soul was curled around the calico-themed headband, a relaxed smile spanning his entire face, halves mismatched but both softened by concord.

He touched his own face at that, surprised. The darkened half was supposed to mirror his own; he didn't know the last time he'd smiled like that. As if brought on by the attention, he finally noticed how much his face ached from smiling.

He shook his head, knowing he couldn't be dwelling on this. Focusing on the present instead, he shook his shoulder, "Soul? Can you wake up, dude?"

He curled up further, getting further into that catlike ball. Cute, if he didn't worry he was actually annoying him. Maybe he shouldn't be trying to wake him up...

The choice didn't seem up to him though, because there was a harsh knocking against the door. Three sharp raps: Mind. Its voice coming through a second later only confirming that, "We got dinner; get out here soon."

He called back an affirmative, trying to keep his voice down, but the effort was characteristically worthless. Mind wasn't one to control his volume, and he could already see Soul shifting to wakefulness.

"Hey Soul..."

"Urghgh- Harmonia?"

That word, usually he didn't use it out loud. It seems that was who he was to Soul still, "Dinner time, Heart and Mind came back."

He just blinked up at Whole, visible eye half-lidded and sleepy, "You're so pretty..."

He tried to ignore the flutters he set off in his chest, nervous, giggly, "Hey- hey. Eyes on the prize, dinner time."

He hummed, folding out in a cat-like stretch; he seemed to be categorizing the feeling of the bed before, almost like a flip was switched, he froze.

Sitting up like he'd been dragged up, he grinned at Whole, "Ah- morning." A glance at the clock, "Evening, I mean. Sorry to keep you here so long... it's dinner now, right?"

Hoping he wasn't overstepping any bounds, he placed a hand on Soul's shoulder, "Anytime, Soul. I'm just glad you enjoyed the gift."

The thirds hands shot right back to his lap at that, clutching the headband, like he'd forgotten it was there at all; the motion making it jingle all over again. "Yeah... it was nice."

Soul was still a mess from his nap, relaxed in ways he usually didn't allow himself, and Whole couldn't help but admire the way this experience had let him see that. See the way even stripped bare of his mask, he still looked at him like he hung all the stars in the sky. He still didn't know what he'd done to earn that.

He didn't think there was anything he'd ever done that could measure up. Maybe that was okay though. Maybe it was time to accept that he didn't have to earn every scrap of happiness in his life.

Another call from the kitchen, breaking the two out of their reverie.

He didn't mind, trailing after Soul to meet the other two in the kitchen. Warm, soft, another domestic day. He wouldn't have it another way.

#Clichéd. depraved. disturbing. and contrived; THIS POST IS OOC TO ME.#cccc #cj #chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj soul #cccc soul #cj whole #cccc whole #fanfiction #fan fiction #jbird's art #jbird's fiction

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