#i couldn't decide where i wanted 2 go with it so i decided

[gguk-n]

What? How? (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Based off this request. I had put up a poll to decide the driver with a part 1 and thought this would be part 2 but I think that's like the preview/introduction and this is the main part!

Everyone grew up hearing about soulmate; from their family or friends or relatives. Most people looked forward to meeting their soulmate, some people wanted to defy fate and some people never got to meet their soulmate.

Max grew up believing that he wasn't deserving of love and thought he'd never meet his soulmate. But a small part of him hoped that, someone would come along and fall for him and be his person. He found himself dreaming of her. The mark on his wrist was a reminder of the soulmate he was yet to find. His sister had found her's and spoke in detail about what it was like to meet your soulmate. He would always end up talking to Victoria about the time she met her's and what it was like, something Max was embarrassed to admit.

In the time that Max had been at RedBull, he had never had issues with anyone. He did his best and gave the team the result he could. Him and his race engineer meshed well, bringing a lot of synergy to their collaboration until he got a new team mate, which some how also meant a new race engineer for said team mate. He saw Y/N for the first time at the start of his fourth year in Formula One. She was cheerful and bubbly and always wore a smile on her face. She spoke kindly to everyone and a part of Max would always gravitate towards her. He had silently hoped they would be friends since they were both perfectionist but it never happened. Y/N always kept to her work; she was assigned his team mate's garage.

It was in 2021, when Y/N got the bump up and became a race engineer for Sergio Perez, his new teammate. Max never knew he could argue with someone as much as he argued with Y/N. They were always at odds because somehow whatever she did was against him, it felt. The team could see daggers flying from across the hospitality at each race but let it go since they never did anything. Until those fights started escalating, from bickering to arguing to full on screaming matches in the hospitality, audible to anyone who could hear. Horner and Marko had tried to get them to resolve their issues but to no avail, it only made things worse.

Y/N thought she was a part of the soulmate less crew, "I'll register you with soulmatch" her mother told her. Soulmatch was an agency, a app or a website, which ever one you chose to help two soulmate less individuals get together and find companionship in each other. Her mother wanted her to start looking, Y/N couldn't careless since her job kept her busy and she was barely at home anyways. Y/N was a race engineer in Formula One; a job she worked tirelessly to achieve. It barely gave her any time to wonder where her soulmate was. She got to work with some of the most talented and smart people to make machinery that made the car go really fast. But now she was working with her driver, Sergio Perez to make sure the race went as smoothly as possible with the best result as possible; sometimes at the cost of the other driver. "Are you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts. "Yeah" she replied. "I'll let you know once you match with people" her mother stated before cutting the call.

Her parents were late bloomers themselves; having met each other in their late 20's and early 30's so she didn't understand the fuss her mother was making. She was in her prime and a soulmate would come along when he wanted to. Y/N travelled the world; if a soulmate existed, she would run into him eventually.

There were a lot of times you would wish someone was your soulmate and there were a lot of times you wished someone wasn't. For Y/N, it was Max Verstappen. She hated his guts; ever since she had become a race engineer, he had been a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember. He would start fights with her if she prioritised her driver, and honestly, who else would she prioritise. She had good strategies that would work in her driver's favour sometimes and he couldn't tolerate it. Starting fights and unnecessary arguments. The team was done with them, the paddock was done with them and the DTS crew always had so much fun.

At the start of 2022 season, the whole paddock and the world knew about Y/N and Max. The fans would laugh and joke about them being soulmates and the other drivers took the piss out of Max for having an engineer as an enemy. But, everyone knew about them. Everyone knew how much the pair hated each other and wouldn't even look at each other, if not to fight.

It was the Monaco weekend, the two of them had been at odds since FP1. Y/N tried to be calm and mature about it; she didn't want to cause issues for the team. Hence, she ignored any thing and everything he said. It was getting on his nerve; she was ignoring him and behaving extremely rudely to him. It all came to a head when the team finished P1 and P3 with Y/N's driver winning the race, street circuits were his thing and Y/N played to his advantage. You can already see the resentment and anger brewing as Max got out of the car. "Who does she think she is?" Max almost screamed at GP. "Calm down Max" GP tried to reason. But Max wasn't hearing anything.

During the post race interview, there were jabs being thrown but it was during On The Sofa; when Max said something, which he later realised he shouldn't have. But it was too late; Y/N was already there and a fight broke out. A lot of commotion, the media having a field day, Sergio and Carlos driver trying to get them to stop, their team trying to stop them and PR having a crisis. The crowd went silent as Y/N pulled her sleeve up to reveal her soulmate mark which matched Max's soulmate mark exactly; now visible due to the scuffle. A loud whisper broke out in the crowd, Y/N looking at him and then his mark as the pair tried to process what was happening. Over whelmed with emotions, Y/N stormed off, leaving the crowd but most of all her soulmate stunned.

Max walked out off the stage, shocked from the revelation. He found him self in his driver's room with no recollection of what had happened. He kept playing back to the moment when he saw Y/N's mark and wondered if things would be different. He wondered if she hated him because he was her soulmate. He wondered what it would be like to liked by his soulmate since the one he got hated his guts.

Y/N was reeling from the revelation; the man who was supposed to be her soulmate was also the man she hated the most, or did she dislike him? All of these thoughts and emotions swirled inside her as she wondered what just happened and how she had gone this long before finding out. Did he know? Did he hate her because he knew? What was going on and what was she supposed to do? She felt her world crash and her phone wouldn't stop ringing. She looked at the caller and it was her mum. "Congratulations darling" she bellowed. Y/N was confused, "I saw you found your soulmate" her mum said when she got no reply. "How did you find out?" she asked. "It's on the news, sweetheart" her mother stated. While Y/N was still reeling from the revelation, F1's social media accounts had already posted about the two sworn enemies actually being soulmates and how it was straight out of a fairytale. Y/N wanted to disappear. Why was this happening now? she wondered, exhausted from the events of the day.

Max was informed by his father that F1 had posted about the moment when Max and Y/N realised they were soulmates. Max was exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair, ready to rip a new one into the admin. As soon as he opened the door he found Y/N standing there. "Did you see?" she asked. Max just nodded shocked to see her. Y/N made her way into the room, trying to find a place to sit when Max gestured towards the sofa. Y/N sat down, "It's an invasion of privacy" she stated. Before Max could say anything, Horner burst into the room. "So happy to find the lovely pair" he bellowed and hugged Max. "You two will make the best couple" he smiled, clapping his hands. Y/N tried to get up to protest, "I've already asked the PR team to start on the media day and social media stuff. You two have to post and we'll start making new content" he stated. "No" Y/N objected. "I'm the one who pays your bills" Horner said before he turned around. "The PR team will email you two the schedule soon" he said exiting the room. Y/N's shoulder's slumped as she walked towards the door. "See you around" Max's voice came out, weakly.

The PR team had decided to make the two appear in pictures and tiktok challenges together, to show them being lovey dovey. The two of them treated it like a task, they would show up, film it and leave. Max could feel his heart ache, hoping Y/N would look at him with anything but disdain.

Y/N found herself questioning herself, if she even hated Max. She found herself staring at him during debriefs and interviews. She found herself learning his driving style. Max was going to win his second championship too and RedBull had planned for a huge spectacle. When Max won Suzuka; he got out of the car, happy even elated and ran to his team and GP. Y/N was stood there by RedBull's plan. Max hugged her first, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. Max felt tears prickle his eyes, he hadn't hugged her ever; her arms wrapped around him. When he pulled away, he saw tears in her eyes. "I like you Max. I'm so proud of you" she said. Max was shocked, this wasn't in the plan. "What?" he asked. "I like you Max Emilian Verstappen" she stated with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I...I like you too" he stated. "Let's talk after" he said pecking her cheek before being whisked away by their team.

After all the celebration, Max and Y/N were finally able to sit down and talk about the other day. "When?" Max asked. "I guess watching you" she muttered. "You?" she asked. "I don't think I ever didn't like you" Max stated. "I thought you hated me?" Y/N asked. "I didn't. I just thought you hated me" he replied, sheepishly. Y/N broke into a laugh. "We're so dumb" she continued laughing.

As time went on, the two of them grew closer with time. Max was able to stop RedBull from capitalising on their relationship. Y/N was still his team mate's Engineer and they still fought but Max would always kiss her to make everything better.

After the dominance in 2023, 2024 was tough on Max and Y/N too. They found them selves at an odd with the team, never themselves. Y/N would always reassure Max that he could do it, a fourth title was in his cards. "Schat, you are too optimistic" Max mumbled while cuddling her. "I'm realistic. I know Max Verstappen" she said. "Do you?" he smirked. She hummed tracing her fingers across his bare torso up to his chest, cupping his cheeks. "I'll marry you the day you win your fourth title" she said pressing their lips together. "No take backs" Max proposed pulling her on top of him. "Aren't you supposed to propose?" she giggled. "You wear the pants in this relationship" he said kissing her again.

As if Max got all the motivation he needed, he won his fourth title in Vegas. After the emotional team radio, "Y/N I hope you bought your dress because I'm marrying you in the next 2 hours" Y/N found herself smiling; there was chaos in the garage, their families were staring at her. "I told him I'd marry him the day he won his fourth title" she shrugged. Horner and Marko were trying to process the situation. But as soon as Max was done with all the formalities, Max staggered towards Y/N. "Never thought I'd marry you drunk" she laughed. "I'd marry you any way" he giggled.

They said their vows at a chapel in Las Vegas in front of their families and the other drivers. Y/N's parents were crying watching their daughter. Some how Max had planned it all, he had their family present, he flew her friends out; it was madness but in the best way possible.

At the end of the night, the two of them lay next to each other in their honeymoon suite. "I can't believe we got married in Vegas" Y/N said looking at Max. "I can't believe I married my enemy" he laughed. Y/N hit his chest playfully. "I love you Y/N" Max said now facing her. "I love you too Maxie" she replied. "You're stuck with me" he stated. "I've been stuck with you since I joined the team" she laughed.

Maybe the fact that your soulmate used to be your enemy doesn't seem so bad. Maybe enemies to lovers wasn't just reserved for YA novels. Maybe Y/N was happy, Max was her soulmate.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

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The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans followed by a string of whimpers. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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[thanosscross]

Okay so hear me out, part 2 for Baby. It was literally amazing and you can't just leave it like that there has to be a part 2 it's illegal for there not to be. Thank you :)

-Fiance <3

Baby - Choi Seung- Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 2

Summary: Your relationship with T.O.P was going amazing, to the point where you start to feel part of the family

warnings: Literally all fluff, at the end it does get spicyy

The few weeks after meeting Seung Hyun was amazing, you spent almost every night, either spending it tangled up in the sheets together, or sitting in his room talking about him personally or you, you liked hearing him talk about himself, he always said he didn't like to, and it wasn't very gentleman like, but it made you feel special, you were finding out things almost nobody knew about it, and he wanted to tell you.

Sitting in his dressing room you played around on your phone, waiting for Seung Hyun to get back from his mic check, you both decided to keep things private, he was okay with telling the world he found someone, but he didn't want to tell them who yet, and you were fine with staying out of the spotlight. You were pulled out of your thoughts but the loud talking and laughs coming closer to the dressing room doors "Y/n!!" You heard, before hearing an 'ompf' and a muffled "She's my girl, I get to see her first" Giggling you walked closer to the door laughing as it flung open, all four men falling into the room "Slow down! My lord" You laughed, your boyfriend being the first to jump to his feet "Baby" He smirked, stepping over his friends to grasp your hips in his hands, the stress from rehearsing one last time before their show immediately vanishing as soon he had you. "Hi, sweetheart" You smiled pecking his lips softly "Y/n! Y/n! Seung Hyun! He was getting down pretending you were there!" Ji-yong shouted, standing to his feet "you were?" You smiled raising his eyebrows, you couldn't ignore the blush on his cheeks as he shot a glare towards his friend "I was just...trying to get an idea of how my part would go" He whispered scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, you just smiled pressing a quick but sweet kiss to his lips, causing a mixture of 'aww's from the group, and Seung Hyun's cheeks going brighter. You liked this Seung Hyun, he was different than who you first met, someone who matched the personality he played on stage and for interviews, but this version? Was sweet, was always flustered to get any sort of affection from you that was anywhere other than the bedroom, and was always on a mission to make everybody around him laugh. "Okay, we'll leave you two lovers alone" Dae-sung smiled, rushing the others out to their respected rooms. Seung Hyun just held onto you pulling you to the couch "You're lazy, you know that right?" You teased, letting him pull you onto his lap "Am not, I just like to be with you when I can" He protested, you watched as he let his head fall back in relaxation, his eyes slowly falling shut. You took this opportunity to study and admire his features, still somehow, being almost five years older than you, he still somehow looked almost younger than you. You didn't notice his eye peeking open to glance at you "you're staring, dear" His voice was low, almost like he was on the verge of falling asleep "Sorry, my love" You whispered shyly, hiding your face by pressing it against his chest "Stare away, baby, I'm yours" He smirked, tilting his head further back "It's rude to" You replied, trailing your finger tips down his jawline "Yes but..I say..It's okay" He whispered looking down to meet your gaze, you shivered against his touch, offering him a soft smile as you heard the muffled voice from his ear piece “boys, three minutes until showtime” Sighing he looked at you offering a sympathetic smile “you gonna hang out here for me?” He asked softly, pressing his lips against your jawline waiting for a reply “of course, anything for you, Seung Hyun” you smiled giving his a soft kiss to his lips before letting him up, watching him leave.

You stayed in the room for a good twenty minutes before boredom overtook you, leaving you to slowly sneak out onto the arena floor, following the walkway to the side of the stage, you watched silently in awe, keeping a tight hold of the curtain that shielded you from everybody else in front of the giant stage. You watched as the boys moved around on stage, effortlessly singing along with the song, you didn't even noticed Seung Hyun staring at you in shock, or the fact you were going along with his rap that he had stopped for a moment. As Ji-Yong started his voice, you finally caught Seung Hyun's eyes just as he smirked turning around to continue back up vocals for his friend. You were there the rest of the show, giggling any time the boys came over closer to you, the boys making it a game to see who could get you the most flustered, Seung Hyun took it as a personal challenge, you were his girlfriend after all. So during knock out with Ji-yong, he slowly made his way to you, making sure to circle to stage before stopping in front of you smirking, starting his second verse as he motioned for you to come closer, taking a half step closer, giggling, your cheeks hot with a harsh blush. The more he continued you, the more you felt yourself losing yourself in your thoughts, that weren't very PG, he smirked, feeling like he accomplished what he wanted to, he left back to the center of the stage.

After that you rushed back to his dressing room, trying to clear your thoughts, you couldn't help it, the words, the eye contact, and the way his mouth moved as he rapped effortlessly reminded you of your first nights together. It was another hour or two before the boys were finished, just ready to get themselves changed and get back to their apartment. As Seung Hyun walked towards his room he was silent, just wanting to see your flustered and embarrassed face again, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't turned on the rest of the show because of the looks you gave him while he preformed. Opening the door, his mind suddenly shifted from how badly he just wanted to take you on his dressing room couch, to how beautiful you looked passed out on the same couch, one of his hoodies he wore to the arena being draped over your curled up body. "Baby.." He whispered, slowly causing you to stir, you opened your eyes smiling whenever you saw your messy haired boyfriend, his shirt missing, only his infamous red jacket being left on his top half. "my love" You whispered tiredly wrapping your arms around his neck trying to pull him down to lay with you, but he just laughed at your antics shaking his head, gently taking your hands in his own "We're leaving soon...Are you coming home or to your apartment?" He asked gently, lifting you up with ease, even after being exhausted from the long ass show they just finished "Going home, duh" You scoffed, almost like you were offended he'd even ask "Why don't you just move in then, if it's home?" He asked, You just shrugged against him, starting to doze off again until he bounced you slightly "Stay awake, baby, We gotta get everything together" He whispered pressing his lips to your neck, you groaned slowly shuffling yourself down to stand in front of him "You're so mean to me, seung hyun" You frowned, pouted tiredly "I bet if I asked the boys they'd do it" you added on, Seung Hyun just raised his eyebrows at you as if to challenge your statement, you glared storming out of the room huffing, hearing the door slam open, the remaining three boys opened their doors peeking out "Y/n?..what's wrong?" They all took turns asking, you gave your best pouty face to them all huffing "Seung Hyun woke me up just to help pack stuff, and I'm really tired" You frowned, knowing Dae-sung would at least, considering you helped each boy with their costume checks and helping during rehearsal all night the night before "We can get it, Y/n!" He shouted, Ji-yong huffed "Yea I can get it Y/n!" He argued, you smiled "Thank you boys...I owe you all breakfast in the morning" You offered before walking past the room you were previously in, Seung Hyun was quick to follow behind you, grabbing your hips to stop you in your tracks "You little trick" He whispered pulling your hips against his "Am not, People just like me" You teased, leaning against him "Yea yea, go get in the car, I'll get our things" He smiled, he didn't mind, you were his princess, he'd do anything for you, even if you asked to be carried everywhere, he'd probably complain, but he'd do it anyways.

Whenever you got back to the house, you would swear your boyfriend was somehow drunk, his hands were constantly on your body, pulling you closer to him, holding your thighs and your chest in his hands as he would either whisper in your ear how amazing you were to him, or kissing your neck. As you stepped into the shared home of the boys and you, he just got worse, not letting you say goodnight or grab a drink before he basically dragged you up to your room, as the door shut he looked you up and down before attaching his hands and lips back to your body "Choi Seung Hyun, what has gotten into you" You gasped as he shoved you back onto the mattress "You have to stop coming to my shows, you're gonna kill me" He whispered against your collarbones as he left soft open mouthed kisses to them "Did I do something wrong" You asked softly, cupping his cheeks, genuinely worried you had upset him or somebody else "Do my part of any song, go ahead" He growled, pulling away to look at you, nervously you started to slowly recite his words, but he stopped you "Just like you did tonight, baby" he corrected, you started again, just as nervous, but this time a lot faster than before, only now did you realize the change in his eyes and facial expressions as you finished "That." Was all he spat before going back to leaving hickey's down your shirt "I-I'm sorry?" You giggled, now realizing you didn't do anything wrong, you just, gave him a reaction he'd prefer not having on stage in front of millions of people. "Don't be a smartass" He warned, you just giggled more, you couldn't help it the situation was funny.

"Seung Hyun, I'm disappointed, if you wanted me, you could've just asked me" You laughed, running your hands through his hair "I want you. and it's not an ask" He whispered looking up at you from his spot at the top of your jeans waistband "Go ahead" You smirked pulling off your shirt, he smirked, doing his part to practically rip your jeans off of you.

--

Another part with smut? Lmkkk

[waywardwhispersblaze]

I'll be forever mad that Jayce ruined the moment right there, but not because I think this would've been a perfect ending for them (I don't). I'm mad because if Jayce had just waited five fucking minutes, the resulting scene would've been so juicy.

Look at the way Vi and Cait look at each other here:

Caitlyn: shocked, betrayed, hurt

Vi just looks sad:

We know from their dialogue in ep 8 that while Vi and Caitlyn were making the plan to distract Ambessa, Vi had another one, to bring in Jinx as a contingency in case Caitlyn couldn't be trusted or failed. She had to know Caitlyn wouldn't take it well once she found out. Vi's priority n°1 was saving Vander though, and they likely didn't have much time to think this through. Basically, she had to know that from Caitlyn's POV, it would look like "Vi chooses Jinx over Cait", edition number 2.

And she was likely right! We know Caitlyn lets go of her anger towards Jinx in the next episode, and accepts that Vi has the right to choose her family, but in my opinion, she wasn't there yet in ep 6. Having a broken Jinx locked up in a cell (her single goal for the last few months) while Vi was lying unconscious on her bed for days very likely helped Caitlyn reassess her priorities in life. But here in this scene she literally doesn't have time to think!

Let's look at Caitlyn a bit more here. During their reunion, She probably expected Vi to hate her guts, but instead, Vi looks grumpy, calls her a mongoose and a cupcake in two sentences, and drops the "my dad needs help" bomb after hesitating for a hot, single second. Moments after that, Caitlyn reevaluates her life choices and decides to make a big career change. Plenty of great posts have already been made about Caitlyn's motivations there, but to sum it up, I'd say it was a combination of: her being already wary of Ambessa and not wanting to let a Noxian warlord get her hands on a dangerous weapon / innocent man, being tired of hating herself, and, yes, her feelings for Vi coming back to her in full force.

For a few, glorious moments, she was working with Vi again! Probably feeling more like herself than she had in months. Maybe she started to hope they could reconcile after all. Maybe, she hoped it could be a "do over" for their failed mission with the strike team, where she'd be helping a member of Vi's family, instead of being torn apart by one of them.

... only to find that Vi didn't actually trust her (which was deserved, but still, ouch), and to come face to face with the source of her seething hatred, the single object of her obsession in the last few months. Right after being saved by said source of seething hatred. It's a lot to take in. She had to be simultaneously disappointed and shocked

So, what was she gonna do? There was probably nothing Vi could have said that wouldn't have pissed Caitlyn off right then (no, Vi, saying "she's changed" probably wouldn't have helped), Jinx opening her mouth would have likely made it worse, but at the same time they still had to run away asap. Caitlyn had already betrayed Ambessa, she couldn't go back. Vi pretty much put her in a position where she'd have no choice but to follow along, no matter how angry she was, at least for a little while...

and I made this post just to say, that the resulting bickering would have been hilarious to see :S

(forget about Jayce waiting five minutes, though, what if it they had an hour? what would Caitlyn had done once they were far enough from the Noxian army? point her gun at Jinx? attempt an arrest? (right in front of Vander? gulp) she might have simply ended up separating from them, and that would have been heartbreaking enough, but a completely different story)

((and that's assuming cult member!vander would have just agreed to leave the commune without acting weird))

[lolitastories]

Ours

Rafe Cameron

Description: This will be a short story on how two people who love each other find their way back to one another. They have a child together and have to focus on giving her the best version of themselves but maybe their best version of themselves is when they are apart.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3 (Coming soon).

No matter the reason why Rafe and I weren’t officially together could ever make me deny him seeing his daughter. Rafe and I were two young to know what life would bring us after we met 4 years ago. At 19 I needed a change after graduating high school, so I moved to the outer banks. My friends came over to visit and when our pre campfire on the beach was rudely interrupted by a drunk girl, Rafe was there to watch as his friend Topper stopped the girl from starting a fight with one of my friends. My friend was more confident than me and invited them to stay and enjoy the sunset, since then Rafe and I spent most of our free days together. 3 years later I found out we were pregnant. Now I won’t admit I was scared because I wasn’t. Yet per my mother, my actions would tell you otherwise. When I found out I couldn’t block Rafe out of my life for even a day before he started sending constant messages and calling. I definitely couldn't ignore when he would personally go out of his way to come and find me. I was running out of places to hide so I had decided to move back home for a bit. I couldn’t stay too long because it would make my family suspicious, so thankfully being in my first trimester gave me the advantage to knock that reason out of the way. But soon I had to go back and face the decision I had made. The time back home had given me 3 weeks to think how and when I was going to tell Rafe about our future child. Since I was young, I knew I always wanted to be a mother, not this young but truthfully, I was jumping on clouds. The one thing I wanted to make sure before getting pregnant was choosing the right father for my children. He needed to be kind, loving, protective, but most of all understanding. Rafe was all of that and more. Not only did he have all those traits he also made me feel comfortable around him. He was the first man in my life that took care of the little girl who was scared to show herself. He brought out the pain and made it disappear. So, as I walked over to his property in Tanny hill I was determined to settle with whatever he chose to do with the information, that was until I saw him and another girl in his kitchen sharing a drink. I shouldn’t have gone into conclusion, but I was pregnant, and all my emotions were everywhere. I trusted him and when he found out I was back on the island he came to find me. He told me who she was and how he loved me. If it was me alone, I would jump on his arms and take him back, but it wasn’t. I needed to think of the little creature growing inside of me now, so after telling him I was pregnant I also told him I needed time to think about us. I wasn’t testing him, but this little person has become my world, and I needed to prepare to give them my all before welcoming it to the real world.

“We don’t like it here.” I hear the low and grumpy tone coming from behind me. As I turn, I let out a chuckle seeing Rafe and our daughter sharing the same expression. He had her hooked up to his chest as we were making our way to yet another antique store.

“I can understand it from her, but you need to stop acting like a baby.” I shut the tailgate of his trunk and started walking. I heard another groan but soon enough his heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer until he was walking alongside me.

“Promise me you won’t be like your mommy?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. I knew where this sentence was going. “Well,” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to walk towards the entrance of the store. “Maybe the good parts but when it comes to shopping, I hope you will drain my bank account at decent stores.” I grab the door hand and pull it open. Rafe walks in giving me a teasing look. I don’t respond knowing it would only lead to a longer conversation down a hole I don’t like. I walk over to grab a cart and walk over to where Rafe is waiting for me. “Every time you come into an antique store you buy nothing. Why do you always bring a cart?”

“Habit.” I shrug as I begin to look around. My mother, siblings and I would enjoy a Saturday in thrift stores and antique shops. We would later get food and rush home with a smile on our faces, it didn’t matter if we were carrying 12 bags or nothing, we were happy.

“Habits do die hard.” He says in a lower tone. I straightened up looking over to him as he played with our daughter's hands. I walk closer, placing my hands over his.

“And I am very proud of you Rafe,” As I looked into his eyes, I felt words choking to get out, but I held them down.

“What a beautiful baby.” Our heads turn looking over to a mid-thirties lady? as she smiled towards us. “Oh, look at her tiny shoes!” She squealed coming over to touch her small shoes. “I remembered my kid's feet being this small, almost making me want another little one.” We laugh alongside her. “Are you two planning to have more?” That question made my smile fade really quick. I looked over to Rafe who had a similar expression. “Either way you two are still young. Enjoy her this little and as much as possible because time goes by fast. You spend your time on things other than family and when you decide to give it priority it's too late.” Her words were like a knife stabbing me right in the heart.

“How many kids do you have?” I could hear their conversation faintly. My fingers began to tighten along the cart's handle. My body began to heat up while my head was spinning.

“Well, it was nice to talk to you two, but I have to find my two devils running around here somewhere.” I was functioning enough to give her a smile before she walked away.

“You, okay?” Rafe moves closer looking over my face. I nod slowly before shaking the uneasiness away and smiling up at him again.

“Yeah. We need to hurry if we want to catch the other stores before they close.” Rafe groans, throwing his head back.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I raised my hand to playfully shove him but then I remembered he was holding our daughter. “Did you see that?” he exaggerated as he turned to look down. “Mommy was trying to hurt daddy.” I roll my eyes and turn around to continue walking. My heart was melting when I heard our baby giggling at his fake studded words. “See, she agrees with me.”

“She does because she is such a daddy’s girl.” I turn my head to see Rafe smiling proudly as our baby looks up to him in admiration. “Just wait until she starts dating,” I bite my lips holding back a laugh to how fast his smile fell. “She will put you second,” I teasingly whispers.

“No, she would not! I will make sure of it because she won’t date until I am dead” I come to a halt and turn around to face him.

“I am %110 percent sure she would choose him and fight against you to keep the boy around.”

“Nothing backs up your statement.” He keeps his head high.

“She is a girl.” I simply state. “She will be smart but at the end of the day she is a girl. And as a girl myself I know it will happen because I happened to me,” He looks down with confusion on his face.

“What?” He questioned.

“I argued with my father because of a boy, till this day he still doesn’t like him. but I would do it again.” I don’t regret getting into an argument because of him. I choose the right choice to protect the boy's name, because he keeps on defying everything my father said he was going to do and be. “But don’t worry too much, you two will be okay.”

“Are you and your dad, okay?” I shake my head. I haven’t even told them I had a child. I know my father loved me but until I had Rafe, and I figured out, he would never accept it. I also am not in a hurry because it's my life and I am very happy.

“We will be.” I let out a sigh seeing how even our daughter was keeping quiet. “Let go because I am already hungry.” I smile, turning around to focus back on the shelves. I picked up a small book that read Collection Shakespeare: Hamlet. Before I opened it the book was taken from my hand. Rafe’s face comes to sit right beside my ear. His hot breath fanned down my neck and I could feel his smile radiate against my skin.

“Well until that happens, I can be your daddy,” He slowly whispers. His warm breath moves closer, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes when he places a kiss on the crook of my neck. It had been so long since I felt his lips on such a little intimate spot. When I regained my conscious back, he had already parted. I turned around to him, opening the small yellow book. “I will start by reading my two girls a book” I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his fingers to shush me. I watch our daughter enticed by his voice as he reads Hamlet. His eyes following along the words and looking over to me, when he sees a smile placed on my lips he continues his interpretation of the book. I lean against the cart and watch as he continues to be and grow into the father I prayed for my children.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 12

With Initial Concepts of Sanji's Skypiea Outfit

Main Themes: V̸͉́i̸̘͛l̶̘̀l̴̞͘a̷͙͆ǐ̶̧ṅ̷̰ ̸̉͜Ṡ̶̬a̷̞̎n̴͖̚j̵͝ͅḯ̶͖, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

While Zoro, Sanji and Law were in the middle of their little game, Niji had other things to attend to.

The sun is nearly set and the blue-haired commander was crouched down, safely hidden in the dark refuge of the treeline overlooking a tavern in Mock Town. It had been raining around Jaya as the Heart Pirate mink had predicted.

For hours now, he'd been listening to the conversation between the establishment's patrons and one of Doflamingo’s lackeys, Bellamy the Hyena. The obnoxious man drunkenly bragged about the different missions he'd been personally assigned to by the Warlord himself. As one of Germa’s skilled agents, Niji knew that most of the his stories had been embellished to impress the crowd.

He's glad that he had managed to slip in a transponder snail in Bellamy's possession earlier that day. It wasn't easy, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity before him.

While one hand holds onto his own snail, he reaches up to check the state of his helmet with the other, worried about its condition as he feels a large part of the front barely hanging on. He knew that one significant damage to it may split his entire headwear, and he doesn't have enough resources to patch it up if that occurs. If he's not careful, he might put himself out of commission for months until Sanji is able to make him a new one.

He considers bailing multiple times in favour of actually doing exactly what his brother had instructed him to do for his own safety. He meant to drop off the condensed Seastones at one of their labs, go home to recover and get help from Reiju or Ichiji to repair his helmet, then off to Dressrosa to go undercover.

Ultimately, he decides to delay the new mission in favour of staying a bit longer, not wanting to miss the slim chance that he could learn more about the current whereabouts of Doflamingo and his plans from one of his loyal lackeys who reside in an island that's way out of reach given its immense distance from home.

There was a sudden snap of a twig nearby. Without hesitation, he draws out his sword and swings behind him. He stops his attack just inches away from an open palm hand that was ready to catch his blade. He hisses at the sight and begins to speak in a hushed manner.

Niji

Fuckin’ hell, Yonji. 

The green-haired man, fully equipped in his Raid Suit, straightens up and cracks his neck side to side.

Yonji

Yo.

Niji

Don't do that. I don't have Sanji's observation haki. That freak can tell how many steps I take on my way to the bathroom from my own bloody room.

Niji sheaths his sword then places the transponder snail gently on a rock protruding out of the grass in front of them so they can both hear the ongoing conversation through it. He takes notice of Yonji kneeling down next to him, also attentively listening in. The other man mirrors his whispering.

Yonji

Maybe you're just getting sloppy. What with how much you wear that…thing.

Yonji nods towards his cracked helmet. Niji gives him a side glance in return, unaffected by the statement. Wearing it for prolonged periods has been an argument that they repeatedly have now and then. The last time this was in discussion, they simply agreed to disagree.

Niji 

So? Where's yours?

Yonji

I didn't bring it.

The blue-haired man sighs disappointingly.

Niji 

I know it's useless to tell you, but you really oughta have it on hand more often. Even if it's just for emergencies.

Yonji grunts in response. He tips his head towards the den-den mushi.

Yonji

So what are you doing here?

Niji 

I'm here to see to a rumour. Well…several rumours.

Yonji

Rumours?

Niji nods. He allows himself to relax a little now that he has his brother for support. He sits back on his ass and leans his head back to look up at the trees, watching the droplets of water drip down from their leaves.

Niji 

Word is, Doflamingo had managed to find Sanji's…owner. The one he was sold to when he was younger.

Yonji raises a brow at him, intrigued at the news.

Niji

And…apparently, he'd given up a lot just to buy him. It cost a fortune.

The green-haired man crosses his arms, processing the information.

Yonji

Is it to get the Celestial Dragons off his back…or to control him? The last I heard, Mihawk backed out of the hunt suddenly.

Niji

Mihawk was assigned? I thought the old fossil was retiring?

To answer your question, I'm not sure yet…. I'm inclined to believe that it could be both, knowing the devil.

He shifts in his seat and pulls up his hood to protect himself from the now pouring rain. Glancing to the side, he notices Yonji just accepted getting soaked, his hair slightly disheveled.

Niji

The other rumour is that this guy, Bellamy, is keeping the Proof of Ownership papers safe for Doflamingo. It's…not much of a rumour given how big his mouth is.

Sure enough, the transponder snail bellows out the man's loud laughter after bragging about his newest promotion, and how he's well on his way to become the Warlord's right hand man if he plays his cards right.

Niji

It makes sense that he'd assign him here to hide the papers. This place is on the opposite side of the world from Dressrosa, and the guy is grossly loyal.

But I'll believe it when I see it. With you here, we might actually be able to find and destroy them right here and now. Then we can finally cut ties without all the running around to see if Corazon is still alive or not.

Yonji

Hmm….

Niji 

See? You can come up with a perfectly logical plan, even with emotions!

Yonji

Tch.

Niji 

Speaking of plans…what are you doing here? Are Reiju and Ichiji around too?

I told you guys that I can respond to Sanji's distress signal by myself since I'm the fastest. I didn't call for backup.

Yonji

I came to check in because Reiju had exclusively ordered you to extract Sanji from the Demon Warlord. And you've gone radio silent for weeks.

What's your status?

Niji shrugs his shoulders.

Niji 

I needed to disappear to safely escort Sanji and the Heart Pirates to Skypiea.

He didn't need rescuing. He's… ugh… “involved” with the Demon Warlord now. They're travelling together.

Yonji takes a sharp breath in and glares at him.

Yonji

He died in his presence, Niji. How do you suppose that happened? Roronoa Zoro has been trying to kill him for a very long time.

Niji

Look, I know it's a shock. But you're just going to have to trust me on this one. Things have changed. Reiju and Ichiji would get it. I'm sure of it.

I…have a feeling that we'll see more of that swordsman. Ugh….

The blue-haired commander runs his fingers over the cracks of his helmet.

Niji

I'll never forgive him for this though. But at least I know that he can hold himself in a fight. I can vouch that he is what they say he is.

Yonji

He did that? We already knew that he's a monster.

Niji 

Err…yeah. But I started the fight.

Yonji stands calmly, his eyes hidden from his darkened expression. His movements were almost robotic and stiff.

Yonji

You failed to extract Your Majesty from the Demon Warlord, as you were ordered to.

Your own, clearly, terrible decision-making ability includes starting a fight with the very enemy our king cannot defeat himself. You've put yourself in danger, and potentially our home.

Niji looks up at him with his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Yonji

The worst part is, you allowed their relationship to develop when you could have done something about it. It almost sounds like you approve of it.

Niji

I watched them very carefully for weeks, Yonji. It's not exactly a decision that's up to me either. Sanji seemed genuinely happy and…

His mind floods with the small shy moments that he has had with their head chef, Cosette: The way she'd put extra syrup aside for his waffles just the way he likes it; how she'd give him the warmest smile as they pass each other by the halls; how she'd stay up late just to personally deliver him a glass of water during his training sessions, how their fingers would gently touch when she passes it to him, and how his heart would jump at every contact that they allowed each other.

Niji

It's not… easy for us. We're not exactly the perfect family, or humans for that matter. We're barely one. You know?

Yonji

No, I don't know, Niji.

He takes a looming step forwards, as he raises his clenched fists up to his sides.

In retaliation, Niji swiftly jumps back to a stance, unsheathing his sword with one hand while the other clawed outwards as sparks of electricity emanate from it.

Niji

Yonji…you never told me how you knew where to find me.

There was a moment of silence. Only then did the blue-haired man realise that there were no more sounds coming from the transponder snail.

He hears rustling of leaves all around and notices a contingent of pirates surrounding them. Bellamy himself is stalking directly behind him with a malicious grin on his face.

When he returns his gaze to his brother, the last thing he sees is a fist before darkness overtakes him.

—

Zoro emerges from the tent in the wee hours of the morning, only wearing his haramaki and trousers as he ended up using his robe to clean himself from Sanji's nosebleed last night. The air was chilly, and the surroundings were covered in a layer of fog from the abundance of the clouds present in Skypiea. The swordsman squints his eye and looks around, trying to make sense of the state of their campsite. He finds Law bent over what used to be their campfire, trying to relight it to make himself a morning coffee.

Zoro

Hey, have you seen Curly?

Law grumbles quietly to himself, cursing at the damp kindling that he tosses away to swap for a new one.

Law

How should I know? I thought he was with you?

I barely slept a wink last night. I thought you two promised to tone it down while we're travelling together?

Zoro

He went out but didn't come back last night.

Law snaps his head over his shoulder to look at him. After a brief pause, he stands, dropping the flint he'd been using.

Law

That's not good.

In a rush, the swordsman passes him to get to their packs and begins dressing himself with a fresh shirt to protect himself from the chill.

Zoro

I'm going to look for him. I'll be back.

He secures his swords around his waist and is about to depart when Law holds his hand out in front of him.

Law

No, the fog is too thick. You need to stay here.

Zoro

All the more reason for us to spread out to find him.

Law

Not when you're doing it with someone who has a sense of direction of a rock.

Zoro suddenly enrages and grabs to pull him by the scruff of his neck. His other fist clenched in the air just inches away from the doctor's face.

Zoro

I don't have time for this shit, Traffy. Don't try to stop me.

With widened eyes, Law grips Zoro's wrist and tries to wriggle away from his hold with no luck. He studies the man's clearly panicked state then raises both his hands in defeat.

Law

I apologise. That was uncalled for.

Do you know where he'd gone and why he left? You don't think he was…

Zoro pushes him away and runs a hand over his own face. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he shut his eye tight, feeling remorseful and distressed.

Zoro

I said something that may have freaked him out. I just…. Maybe we were taking things too fast? This is all new to me. I've never….

How do you know when to say the right things? I just thought we…. Maybe I'm reading things wrong….

When he finishes talking–or rather, stammering out words–he crosses his arms together, looking small.

Law's expression softens as he feels sympathy for him.

Law

Room.

A blue sphere expands from his hand outwards then he brings out his sword to raise it slightly out of its sheath.

The swordsman looks around him to watch.

Law

Scan.

A vertical beam travels outwards from his blade then around the orb surrounding the area. When it finishes its revolution with no results, Law sighs disappointingly and returns his sword in its scabbard. He walks towards their packs and begins to rummage through his belongings.

Law

He's not nearby, so I need you to stay and see if there's any clues as to his whereabouts.

Zoro

But–

The doctor throws a transponder snail to him as he pockets one for himself, interrupting the other man's protests. Zoro catches the small creature in time.

Law

Someone needs to stay here in case he comes back. The fog’s a bit thick so I'll need to scan further away to see if I can find him. With luck, I don't have to use it too much. It's a little exhausting.

Call me if you find anything useful or if there's trouble.

The swordsman opens the palm of his hand to stare at the snail in his possession, then he gives the other man a glare, unhappy with his decision.

Law

Mr. Prince-ya wouldn't just leave us without good reason. He did just say that he's sticking around last night.

He starts walking past him then pauses.

Law

Though you should know…

Zoro furrows his brows worriedly, listening intently.

Law

We're not out of the woods yet after what happened in Sabaody Archipelago. I'm sure that you've read the papers and, least to say, it's not good. Expect some repercussions. We did everything we could to travel here unnoticed but…

Zoro

You don't think that's why I want to go out there? I should be the one looking for him.

Law turns to him with an annoyed expression on his face, his patience wearing thin.

Law

Not in this weather, Zoro-ya. Yesterday, you said that you'd follow my plans by the book–this is one of them. I entertained our little game but now, I need you to listen to me and stay. That's my final word.

He watches the swordsman visibly tremble in anger.

Zoro

I don't have to listen to you. You're not my captain.

What if… what if he….

Zoro's other hand clenches into a tight fist. The swordsman is still too anxious and stressed to be fully satisfied with the plan of action.

Law

If I'm not back in an hour, come find me, or do whatever the hell you want.

He approaches the other man to place a hand on his shoulder then gives it a reassuring shake.

Law

We don't know what happened yet. Maybe he just needed space last night and now he's off getting us some breakfast.

Zoro finally looks at him eye to eye. He breathes in deeply to compose himself.

Zoro

Alright. I just…I already waited all night and…nothing. I'm done sitting around.

The doctor gives him a final nod before walking away.

Law

One hour.

—

Law worked his way west and scanned again but yielded no results. So then he proceeds around to try his luck, southward from their campsite where they had travelled. He climbs a tree then scans the surroundings for his third attempt.

Finally, he sees a satisfying blink from his sights. He clambers down and proceeds to the location.

Approaching slowly, by a small stream, he finds Sanji in an oversized shirt, hunched over the edge, painstakingly washing a long piece of fabric that looks like his cloak.

The doctor was certain that his own footsteps made noises by the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs as he walked directly behind him but he didn't see any sort of reaction from the man. That's when he sees blood trailing downstream from the cloth.

Law

I've been looking everywhere for you.

The blonde didn't hear him. He continues to clean without so much as noticing what's happening close to him.

Law's eyebrows furrow, finding it unusual that the man with arguably the best observation haki between the three of them wasn't aware of his presence, let alone see his Room sphere when he scanned the area earlier.

Law

Mr. Prince-ya?

Nothing.

Carefully, he reaches out and touches the man's shoulder.

Sanji flinches and gasps as he turns his head over his shoulders to look at the doctor frightfully. His wide eyes bore deep shadows underneath it and he looks visibly shaken from the contact. He was pale and looked thinner than usual with his sunken cheeks, on which one side had a fresh purple bruise and his lip had been cut open on one corner.

Law’s eyes widen but he stops himself from looking too shocked at his state. He withdraws the hand that he held him with, and raises it as a sign that he meant no harm.

Law

Are you okay? The swordsman said that you've been missing since last night.

Sanji eases a little but he still looks very tense. He returns his attention to washing the stain off his cloak. Upon closer inspection, the doctor catches sight of his trembling body, evident by the mad involuntary shaking of his hands. 

Sanji

I'm here, aren't I?

He spat out the words with a forced voice that sounds venomous but Law detects a layer of facade with the man. He lets him carry on, but he can't help but notice that the bloodstain that he's meticulously working on had already been rubbed onto the fabric permanently, and it looks like he's just cleaning it more so to keep his hands occupied and while his mind is probably someplace else. It would explain the vulnerable state he'd unintentionally put himself in.

Law

I find it hard to believe that this is where you've been all night. Where were you? Did something happen?

Sanji

I just needed some space. I'll be up there in a second, alright? So just leave me be.

Sanji hunches his shoulders and shifts a little, causing his hair to fall forward around his shoulders. It reveals his uncovered neck.

Softly and gently, Law speaks to him in a low voice.

Law

You know…if you like, I can remove it.

Sanji

Can you leave me alone? Please…? I can do laundry just fine like I have been for everyone on your ship. So go away.

The blonde's voice broke as he spoke and his body trembled more. His face is hidden under the fringe of his hair but the doctor could tell he's on the verge of crying.

Law gives him a moment. When he notices that the quiet is progressively causing the blonde to shake further, he continues.

Law

I meant your slave mark.

Sanji stills. His hands slowly clench into fists.

Law

When I operated on you, I wanted to remove it like I did with Jean Bart's but I didn't want to do it without your consent.

I can't remove it with my powers because it's burnt on your skin but I can surgically repair it with clean skin tissues. I just need a small sample from you. It will look like nothing happened.

Sanji

But something did happen.

A lot of shit. Happened.

He accentuated parts of his statement by growling the words and frustratingly punching into the shallow water with splashes. Law has a feeling that he wasn't just referring to the events surrounding his mark. After a few seconds of quiet, the blonde sniffs as his head dips down. The doctor could hear him sobbing softly.

Unintentionally, Law strokes the furline of his own coat, remembering that silly bet that the other man took and honoured with the Heart Pirates crew.

Law

Or…you know, I can just…clean your laundry for a change. It won't take long at all.

You've been doing that for us for a while, even way past you were expected to.

Law had said that in a light tone as an attempt to brighten up the mood. Clearly the blonde didn't want to talk about what's bothering him but he needed–wanted–to try and make him feel better. Only then did he notice how Luffy and Sanji's positivity and kindness had rubbed off on him over time.

There is a brief pause then suddenly Sanji drops his cloak, turns to stand and wraps his arms around to pull him into a tight hug, pinning his arms to the sides. The blonde begins sobbing quietly but his shoulders shakes violently.

Law

Uhh….

Law has no idea what to do. He stands there uncomfortably for a while as he lets the man cry it out. He tries to remember what Luffy, Bepo or anyone on his crew would do in this situation. In the end, he resorts to giving him awkward pats on the back as far up as he could reach.

Law

Th–there, there…?

He spoke with great uncertainty and felt his face flush red from embarrassment. It really isn't like him to even say that or return someone's hug, and yet here he is. He begins to question how and why he got into this mess.

Eventually, Sanji releases him and takes a step back, looking down sorrowfully with his eyes full of tears and nose runny with snot. Law wasn't sure how much help he did after seeing the state of him, but he believed that the fact that the blonde is out of whatever trance he was in is progress.

Law

Listen, when you told me everything about your family weeks ago, your brother said that you were offering your trust for mine. So that's what I'm doing, okay?

Sanji

Oh, Traffy….

Sanji cleans his face by wiping it with the inside collar of his shirt. When he sets his arms down, he looks less sad but more anxious.

Law

So whatever happened last night, I trust that you did the right thing. I'm not going to question you about it or ask for details unless it's something you want to talk to me about, but that's up to you.

And… there's nothing… weird about… hugs.

Law shivers at mentioning the word, earning a weak smile from the blonde but it didn't last long as it fades as quickly as it came. Then finally, Sanji replies softly.

Sanji

Right….

Law

Right.

We should probably head back before Zoro-ya wanders off on his own. I promised I'd be back with you before the hour's out.

But… think about my offer? We can do it any time back on my ship.

…No pressure.

The blonde didn't reply. Instead, he averts his gaze and wraps his arms around himself after hearing his other half's name.

Law walks past him to pick up the discarded cloak by the stream. With flicks of his hand, he casts his Room ability and extracts the water and blood from the fabric. He then offers it back to Sanji who takes it gratefully.

—

Zoro was about to head out ten minutes earlier than the agreed time period when Law returned with Sanji in tow. The man looked worse than when he carried him back from Sabaody, but he was thankful that his life wasn't in immediate danger and, to his knowledge, there was less blood involved.

When the swordsman approached to fuss and ask details about the blonde's facial injuries and events of the previous night, the doctor stopped him and told him to give the man some space. Sanji simply walked by them and proceeded to properly dress himself and pack up for the day.

Breakfast was put together before setting out, which the blonde took initiative to prepare and serve for the other two with their own choice of morning brew. He didn't have any for himself. Instead, while the others ate their fill, he took a moment to burn the cursed oversized shirt that he had returned to camp with.

—

The fog had settled, which the three were grateful for, but the trek was a lot quieter compared to the exciting one yesterday.

Their path has fewer trees now, but in place is a steep uphill trail with an open meadow littered with flowers and ancient ruins covered with overgrown moss sticking out of the ground. Thanks to the clearer weather, the vast spread of the White Sea is visible, stretching far into the distance if one is to turn their backs to the small dirt path they had been following. The intensity of the wind was more punishing the higher they travelled, but the sight was to behold.

Sanji kept his distance, choosing to be the last one behind as he followed the two like a mindless husk, too dazed to pay attention to the lovely scene before him. Zoro thought that he'd absolutely be beside himself at the sight in his normal state. He was tempted to take pictures for the man on his behalf like he was doing throughout yesterday but decided against it as the blonde probably didn’t want any proof of a time when he’s feeling down. A part of him was really hoping that the view would bring him some semblance of joy. 

It didn't. Instead, Sanji kept his head down and trudged on quietly. Law had to verbally call him out to make sure that he was heading the right direction several times, and to make sure that he hurdles the smallest of obstacles like walking over wobbly rocks because his head is too far gone to focus properly. Without Law's warnings, he'd be tripping on his feet, which had already occurred too many times for Zoro's liking.

Neither three had rested much from the previous night, that much the swordsman knows, but he suspects that the blonde had suffered more damage than just lack of sleep.

After a long while, Zoro couldn't handle the silence anymore. He slows down to distance himself from the doctor who was leading the way so he can have a quiet one-on-one with the blonde who was tailing behind them.

Mindful of the fragile state of the man, he speaks softly.

Zoro

Hey….

Sanji looks up briefly behind his deep eyebags but pays him no mind. He continues his way forwards, focusing his eyes on the path before him. The swordsman walks at his pace side by side, careful not to get too close.

Zoro

Curls, what's really going on?

He receives no reply.

Zoro

I’m worried about you. You were clearly hurt.

Nothing.

Zoro

Whatever it is, let me help.

His persistence was rewarded with a small reaction. The blonde's body tenses and he hugs his cloak closer to him, trying to cover his body.

Zoro 

Whatever it is, you know we can take it together. You know I'm here for you.

Sanji halts in his steps. He hunches his shoulders again to look smaller, which seems to be his newest habit today.

Zoro

Please…talk to me.

The blonde dips his head down further and his lips start to tremble. He looks like he's on the verge of crying once more.

Law notices the absence of his companions directly around him. He turns around and finds the two having a conversation downhill from where he was standing. His eye twitches at the swordsman who clearly didn’t heed his advice so he tries to keep things moving along for the sake of Sanji’s sanity.

Law

Oi! We need to keep moving! I want to get back on track before midday.

Zoro

Hold on a sec!

He returns his attention to the shivering man in front of him.

Zoro has tried many times to communicate with his own words in the past. Some are more successful than others. This time, he thought he would try to look for some wisdom someplace else. He remembers Nami's words that stuck to him, so he adds his own spin to it.

Zoro

Curls, I just want you to be alright. I’m here for you. You… you have to let me in.

Tentatively, he reaches out, his fingers stretching with intention to caress the man's distraught face.

Zoro

Otherwise…I don't know how I can help.

He gently strokes his cheek with the back of his finger.

Sanji suddenly recoils. His eyes snap wide open angrily from the contact and he takes a wide swipe with his clawed gauntlet towards him. For a split second, Zoro sees that his arms shone black from armament haki.

Sanji

DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!

The swordsman crouches down to the side just in time to dodge his attack. His ear was just shy from being completely cut clean off his face but a few strands of his trimmed hair flew into the wind and he received a deep gash across his right cheek.

Law

Holy shit–!

The wind dies around them as Zoro fumbles to the ground. Then suddenly, the earth shook, followed by deafening cracks and a powerful blast of wind as the entire span of the meadow behind the swordsman was sliced into five long streaks outwards, shaped like a swipe of a claw which carved deep through the earth. Trees, shrubs and colourful flowers all across the cliffside are uprooted and carried away from the force, destroying them and sending them flying off towards the White Sea. The ground sizzled and glowed from extreme heat at the sharpest point of the impact.

There was nothing left of what used to be the peaceful meadow but misshapen earth and smoke emanating from the trenches. Any grass that was left is practically crisped from the blast.

Zoro and Law stared at the man, both shocked and speechless at the now panting Pirate King. His furious panicked eyes turn into a watery one as tears begin to form at the corner of his fierce blue eyes. He screams in a high pitch shrill of a voice.

Sanji

WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE, ZORO?!

Stunned from his reaction, the swordsman blanks out. He opens his mouth to say something–anything–but can't seem to form any words. He closes it and gulps, feeling uncertain of what's to come next.

Law watches the scene in front of him quietly, careful not to drop his guard in case the blonde loses control again.

Sanji takes a moment to realise what he'd done. When he does, his face suddenly eases into an impassive one and he retracts the blades from his gauntlets with a flick of his wrists. With a clear and firm voice, he speaks.

Sanji

We're done, Zoro.

Zoro's eye widens and his body stiffens.

Sanji

I'm staying to help Traffy like I promised.

But after this, it'll be the last time you see me.

The last line had a hint of sorrow to it as his voice gradually broke. He walks away and passes the swordsman to make his way to Law.

Before he could get too far out of reach, Zoro stands and grabs his hand.

Zoro

No.

Sanji swiftly spins, his other hand raised for another strike but the swordsman quickly gets a hold of his wrist with his opposite hand before the blonde’s haki forms.

Sanji

What the fuck do you think you're doing?!

He tries to pull himself away but Zoro tightens his hold. The swordsman knew he was taking a risk and was being selfish–but he needed the man to know what he had to say.

Zoro

I love you.

Sanji stills his movements. It was his turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. His eyes are blown wide and pupils dilated.

Zoro

If I hadn't been clear about it before, here it is now.

I'm madly in love with you.

And there’s not a force in the world that can change that.

The blonde’s eyes fill with tears once more as his lips tremble. He parts his lips as if to say something but is met with Zoro’s own clashing onto his. The sudden contact made him gasp and he was too stunned to move. His body reacted involuntarily as the sensation flowed from his lips right through to the tips of his limbs like it needed it, wanted it, and thirsted for it. After a brief pause, he melts into the kiss and closes his eyes. Tears flowed down his cheek freely.

Zoro releases his arms as he snakes his own around Sanji’s figure to pull him close. The blonde’s hands held onto his shoulders for balance. The swordsman's kisses were purposely shallow, not wanting to push any further than he already has. He peppers his lips with tender kisses, trying to show him love by way of action, careful to avoid the deep cut on one side of his lip. He notices that the blonde isn’t returning his affection–only taking it–but he continues on. This was about giving, and he wants him to know he’s willing to give all he’s got.

When Zoro pulls away, the blonde has a flushed face. He opens his eyes slowly as their gaze locks together. His cheeks were red and wet from his own tears. The swordsman feels relief as it was the first healthy colour on his skin that he’d seen on the man since they reunited that morning.

Slowly and tenderly, Sanji slides his hands from his shoulders to cup his face and pulls him close. Zoro hugs him around the small of his waist as he closes his eye.

The next thing he knows, the blonde yanks him back by the face then jerks their heads together to deliver a punishing headbutt against his forehead.

Zoro

ACK–!

The swordsman reels, but before he could catch his balance, Sanji grips his shirt by the shoulders to deliver a swift kick between his legs.

Law winces at the sight and hisses behind his teeth. A hand shoots up to cover his mouth.

Zoro grimaces and falls on his knees before dropping to the ground as he holds onto his groin. He rolls to the side, writhing in pain from both his head and lower regions.

Zoro

What the hell, Dartbrows?!

Sanji lights a cigarette then steps over him smoothly to walk away.

Sanji

I told you not to fuckin’ touch me.

The doctor approaches Zoro calmly. He watches the swordsman rock himself side to side, hissing, as if that will soothe the pain. When the man eventually stills, he offers a hand to him.

Law

Not going to lie…you kinda deserved that. A little.

Zoro furrows at him with furious eyes but takes his hand anyway. He gets pulled up onto his feet. His legs almost give out but he manages to stay up, albeit wobbling in place.

Zoro

Thanks, asshole. How is that supposed to make me feel better?

Law

It’s not. I meant to add insult to injury. Literally.

Zoro

Some doctor you are….

The swordsman growls at him. He attempts to straighten up but he can still feel the remnants of the impact pulsating through his body.

Law turns his attention to the blonde who is now standing way ahead of them, waiting for them to catch up.

Law

Good job, Zoro-ya.

Zoro

Wh-what?

Law

At least he’s… feeling things now.

Zoro follows Law’s eyes and sees Sanji standing uphill. The man is looking around, finally taking in the scenery as he smokes his cigarette. His blonde hair flow gracefully in the wind.

Zoro

Yeah… I guess.

The swordsman felt relief but his heart sank at remembering the blonde’s words. He wonders to himself if this truly is the end of the line. His gaze lowers sadly to the ground. He feels Law pat him on the shoulder a couple of times before walking past him to continue leading the way forwards.

Sanji paid close attention to the environment in front of him. His body was angled so half of his vision sees the untouched, peaceful meadow while the other half was the part he destroyed. He takes a long drag of his smoke and closes his eyes. He let the memories of the previous night flood into his mind one last time before he knew he’d have to stow it away to make way for the worst ahead of them.

—

Doflamingo drags Sanji’s naked form by the hair into the brig of the Numancia Flamingo which is docked discreetly in the outskirts of Skypiea, somewhere in the White Sea. His hands have been covered and bound tight with indestructible strings to restrain him. He’s fully aware that the Warlord knew his weaknesses and he liked to take advantage of it. His neck strained from the jerking movements, and his scalp felt like it would tear away from his own head from the Warlord's pull.

Sanji

D–Doffy–it hurts!

Doflamingo

Do you know how much trouble I had to go through to get Celestial Dragons off you and your precious swordsman's backs after the stunt you pulled at Sabaody?

He throws the blonde aggressively into a dark cell where Sanji lands hard against the wall before falling onto the cold hardwood floor. He tries to recover quickly by propping himself up, crawling backwards and away from the man. 

Sanji

Doffy, please, let’s just ta–

The Warlord closes in on him and delivers a swift kick to the face to silence him, earning him a cut over his lips. He then forces the blonde's legs open wide by pinning him down using the same foot. He flicks his fingers in the air to bind the blonde's thighs against his calves. With a swirl of his own hand, strings hoist him off the ground, suspending his body from the ceiling in the middle of the room.

Sanji trembles at the painful binds and shivers at the chilly sensation between his legs. He coughs out blood from the back of his throat, nearly choking from it. He pants deep heavy breaths.

Sanji

Don't… do this…

Doflamingo

Do you know how much I had to give up to buy you? I couldn't even get full ownership.

Sanji

Wh–what? What do you mean buy…?

Doffy, what did you–AH!

Sanji grimaces at the sudden intrusion of Doflamingo’s long thick finger inside of him. His back arches involuntarily to try and get away from it. The other man wasn’t gentle, nor considerate. He pumped his digit in and out, loosening him in a rush with interest just for himself. 

Doflamingo

Hmm…I see you’ve been busy already. Do I have Roronoa Zoro to thank for preparing you for me?

The blonde tenses. He gives him a nasty glare and spits at his face. Doflamingo stills.

Sanji

Go to hell, you prick.

Sanji knows that he was well and truly in trouble when he sees it–the Warlord’s grin and laughter which sends shivers up his spine and makes his hair stand on end. When he looks down, he sees the other man's bulging erection in his pants.

Doflamingo

I love it when you talk like that to me.

He starts fucking him with his fingers fast, adding in a second then third digit, one after another with very little patience.

Sanji hisses at the sting. It felt like his ring was on fire. He feels himself open up but it's happening too fast, too dry.

Sanji

What–what do you want from me?

Doflamingo hums, considering the question.

Doflamingo

A discussion for later. There's something that I need you to do.

For now…

Finally, he pulls out. Sanji’s legs twitch involuntarily but the lack of intrusion brings him a small amount of relief. He tries to stabilise himself by taking in long steady breaths but his heart was thumping like mad.

Sanji

Doffy… please don’t.

The Warlord unzips his trousers and whips out his overly large cock. With the blonde suspended from the ceiling, his dick is already perfectly aligned with his rim. He gives it a couple of pumps then slaps Sanji's entrance with it, teasing him.

The blonde snarls and attempts to break free from his binds by thrashing around, tossing and tilting his body however he can.

Doflamingo

You know that fighting me only gets me going.

Sanji

I will always fight if it’s against my will.

And the moment I break free, I will finally fuckin’ end you.

Doflamingo

Mmm… that’s it… talk just like that, my pet.

Doflamingo grips Sanji’s jaws with his large hand and forces him to look at him face to face, keeping his body still.

Doflamingo

But now, don’t move around too much like a good boy, and this’ll be better for the both of us.

Sanji feels him attempt to insert his dick so he jerks his own head back and bites his hand, breaking his skin.

Doflamingo

AH–! MOTHER FU–

The blonde gets dropped roughly on the floor. He winces at the soreness of his joints but he powers through the pain and crawls away with his elbows, dragging himself across the floor. Just before he could make his way on the other side of the bars, the Warlord’s foot stomps mere inches away from his face, cracking the floor underneath him. He stops in fear that his skull would be next.

Doflamingo

Clearly, you’ve been left running around at your own accord for far too long.

He releases the binds around his legs then reaches out to grab him by the crown of his hair, hoisting him off the ground. The blonde cries out in pain.

Doflamingo

So help me, I'll have my money's worth. You've cost me greatly.

Sanji

I didn’t ask to be sold and bought!

Doflamingo drops him to fall on his knees, then swings his hand across to slap him hard, almost knocking him out. When Sanji’s body flimsily collapses to the side, the Warlord catches him by the back of his neck with a bruising grip. This time, he turns him away from him. He flicks his wrist to raise and hold the blonde’s arms up by strings so his frail body hangs lifelessly in front of him. With his long pointed tongue, he gives him a wet lick from the nape of his neck, then up to his face where he bites his earlobe before whispering.

Doflamingo

I own you now, Pirate King. Your mind, your body and your soul. 

Sanji can barely keep his eyes open at that point. Blood trickled down the side of his mouth from the inside. He coughs out blood again. Weakly, he replies as best as he can with a raspy voice.

Sanji

No.

Doflamingo pauses, raising a brow.

Sanji

I am…my own man.

I will always… fight for freedom–for myself and everyone who needs it. I only allied with you…to get Seastones and the names of people who deserve no mercy.

And…you. You are one of them.

When I get out of here, I will end you and your fuckin’ kingdom.

Doflamingo grins widely as he yanks his hair back. Sanji yelps at the sudden pain and motion. The Warlord buries his nose in his blonde locks then trails it down his neck, taking a long whiff of his scent.

Doflamingo

Mmm…you forget who's on the leash here, pet. Tell me, is this how you really want to play this?

Sanji

I will never stop fighting, Doflamingo. You can do all what you want with my body, but you can’t break me to thinking I’m yours to claim.

The Warlord pauses, then he chuckles that sinister, malicious laugh of his.

Doflamingo

I knew you’d say that.

He tosses something heavy on the floor. It clunks against the prison cell and slides, stopping directly in Sanji’s view. The blonde had to squint his eyes to try and work out the shape in the dark. When his sight adjusts, his eyes fill with horror and his jaw slacks open as he recognises a large chunk of Niji’s helmet before him.

Doflamingo licks his pointed tongue into his ear which sends chills throughout his body. He watches the blonde gape at the item, satisfied with his reaction.

Doflamingo

Let’s try this again…shall we?

The Warlord waves his hand and Sanji is fully released from all his binds. He drops to the floor on his fours. The blonde looks up to the piece of helmet once more, his mind running through different terrible scenarios of what may have happened.

Doflamingo

I will keep it nice and clear for you.

You do what I say, and I don’t kill your brother.

Sanji

N–no…no, you wouldn’t.

Doflamingo

Do you really want to test me?

Sanji freezes at that. After a moment of silence, his head dips down in defeat as his gaze turns to the side.

Doflamingo kneels directly behind him. He snakes his hands over the blonde's back then up to his neck to wrap his hands around it. While choking him, he pulls him up onto his own thigh to align dick against the rim of his ass.

Doflamingo

Now, let’s see how much you’ve learnt.

When I say, suck my dick, you say…?

The blonde’s lips quiver and his body trembles madly as fear slowly overtakes him. He shuts his eyes tight, knowing full well that the next words he will say is going to change his entire life forever. With a broken voice, he replies.

Sanji

Yes, Doffy.

Doflamingo inserts his cock into his tight entrance. Sanji grips onto the steel prison bars in front of him. He grits his teeth, trying to endure the pain as quietly as he can, not wanting to give the man any more satisfaction than he already has.

Doflamingo

When I say, jerk yourself off in front of the Levely, you say…?

The Warlord continues pushing himself inside, slowly but forcefully. With barely any preparation, Doflamingo’s monstrous size stretches his walls and tears his rim. He feels blood trickle down his violently shaking legs. Sanji’s eyes start welling up in tears from the pain. With a half sobbing voice, he replies.

Sanji

Y–yes…Doffy.

Doflamingo

Good boy.

Then he slams into him almost at full length. The blonde screams and leans his forehead against the prison bars.

Doflamingo

Now…I want you to think of your swordsman.

Sanji

Wh–what…?

Doflamingo thrusts inside him hard and deep once more, trying to forcefully fit his whole cock inside him, causing the blonde to cry out loud.

Doflamingo

You heard me.

I want you to think of his dick deep inside you.

Sanji

Doffy, please! I don’t want to think of him this way–

Doflamingo starts a brutal rhythm of slow but deep thrusts. Sanji screams at every push. He tried to hold back his voice at one point but was punished with a stinging spank, causing him to yelp out. The impact bruises his skin.

Doflamingo

Tell me what the swordsman does to you that you like the most.

Sanji’s tears start flowing. He sniffs once to try and compose himself, reminding himself that this is for his brother.

Doflamingo

Talk, Sanji.

Sanji

I like it when…AH–when he plays with my nipples….

Satisfied with his answer, Doflamingo increases his pace. The Warlord's large hands snake from his neck down to his front and plays with his pecs, teasing and pulling his nipples.

Sanji

Do–Doffy…you're too big. It hurts–it really hurts!!!

Doflamingo

Keep talking. You’ve only said one thing so far. How do you like taking him?

Sanji's breath hitches as he thinks of how the swordsman had fucked him during the last several weeks they had been together.

Sanji

I like it–ah–when I’m on a table and–he goes down on me–before we–AH–DOFFY, NO, PLEASE!!!

The Warlord leans forwards and drops Sanji down on the floor while keeping his legs wrapped around his own hips. He splays a hand over his back, pinning the blonde’s upper body onto the cold surface. The changed angle deepens the penetration in which Sanji begins sobbing out loud. A pool of blood forms onto the hardwood below them. Doflamingo’s pace becomes fast and relentless. 

Doflamingo

Give me more, my pet. Tell me more.

His own voice hitches as he nears his climax. His breath quickens as he fucks into the blonde senselessly.

Sanji feels himself peak as well. With every ounce and fibre of his being, he tries to resist.

Sanji

I–I…like it when I get to look into his eyes when he cums. When I call his name, I really want him to call mine too–

Doflamingo

Fuck, yes. When I cum in you, I want you to scream his name.

Sanji

P–Please–please, no–

Doflamingo tips forward slightly and releases his back to grip a bruising hold onto his hips, pushing hard into him with every thrust. His full length pounds painfully deep. When Sanji looks up, he realises that had been forced down on this position so he can see the part of Niji’s helmet that the Warlord had somehow taken into possession.

Doflamingo groans as he peaks.

Doflamingo

Shit… I'm gonna…

It all felt wrong but the blonde steels his heart.

Sanji

Hah–Z–Zoro… Zoro…

Zoro

Sanji, I'm gonna cum…ah–Sanji…

The swordsman’s raspy gentle voice echoes in the room. It grounds Sanji–comforts him–reassures him. He eases into the new sensation, craving his affection.

Sanji

Make a mess of me, baby…please. Say my name, say it.

Zoro

F-Fuck–Sanji… Sanji…

Sanji

Zoro…!

Doflamingo cries out the blonde's name as he pumps into him, spilling a generous load deep inside. The blonde follows shortly, producing barely anything prior to his earlier activities with–

Sanji's lips quiver in terror as he realises that his own mind had betrayed him. It had swapped the devil himself with an illusion of his precious Marimo. He can still feel the Warlord pumping into him.

Doflamingo pulls out with a slow guttural growl, causing the blonde to moan at the sudden loss of his length inside him. He feels the mix of the man's overflowing juices and his own blood spill down his thighs as the Warlord releases him from his hold.

Doflamingo 

Now…wasn't that fun?

Sanji scampers on the floor away from him. He sits up, leaning against the prison bars for support.

Sanji

You fucking asshole.

Doflamingo

My dear…

Doflamingo stands tall and drops his large feather coat on the ground. He strips off his shirt then drops his pants on the floor.

Doflamingo 

We're just getting started.

—

Voice

Mr. Prince-ya.

Hey…let's keep moving.

Sanji forces his eyes to open slowly as he feels the chilly wind on his face. He almost reels as he returns his attention back to reality. When he looks to his side, he sees Law next to him. Down the hill, the swordsman had kept his distance, his gaze focused at the misshapen land of what used to be the meadow.

Sanji

Law…

Law

Yes…?

Sanji

Are you sure you want to keep going?

Law narrows his eyes suspiciously at that.

Law

Is there something you want to tell me?

Sanji takes a long drag of his smoke, thinking of the right response. When he breathes out, he walks past him.

Sanji

No. I’m just checking.

Law

I see.

The swordsman eventually joins Law and they watch the blonde walk ahead of them. The doctor whispers quietly.

Law

He’d been broken.

Zoro

…I know.

Law

Get ready for anything.

Zoro clenches his fists. He holds onto Wado to stabilise himself but he allows anger to flow through his veins.

Zoro

I am.

[dreadnoughtus101]

Pro

Tsukishima Kei

Where the reader is a pro volleyball player and Ukai brought in her team to help teach Karasuno new techniques

______________________________________________________________

Pro!Reader

Tall!Reader

This one is kind of rushed, but I don't mind making a part 2? Left it pretty open ended for everyone to imagine what they want.

"Okay everybody, please behave yourselves." Daichi pleaded with the team.

It was last week that coach Ukai had told them he was bringing in the Yokohama team, a professional group of female volleyball players, in to help with Karasunos technique.

Now, today was the day, and the captain only hoped they wouldn't make a fool of themselves.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You walked into the gym, right behind your teammates. You felt more nervous than usual, yet tried to keep it calm. It was last week that your coach had sat you guys down and told you about Karasuno, a team full of boys that hoped to go pro. It wasn't you who agreed to this, if anything it seemed like you were the only one against it. Why should we travel so far to help them? What difference does our help make compared to any other?

You saw the group of boys sitting in a group near a bench, eagerly waiting for you all. One boy in particular, a short one with orange hair, immediately sprung up and ran to greet you guys.

"Guys! It's them! It's Yokohama! Have you guys seen their plays!?" He was practically jumping, beaming with excitement. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the pure excitement he displayed at just seeing your team. Karasuno stood to greet you guys, the captains talking. They both agreed that they would pair you guys up by numbers. They went down the line, introducing everyone to their new respective counterpart.

"Eleven, y/n, you'll be working with Tsukishima."

They played a practice match for you guys to observe their play styles. You watched Tsukishima on the court, his effortless blocks. You noted some things you could show him, but you also noted that he was one of the better players you had seen.

You noticed some similarities between you two, most particularly how you both were the tallest on your teams.

"So," He was the first one to speak up as you guys walked to a corner of the gym to practice alone, "What position do you play..?" He mumbled. You let out a small laugh, it was refreshing to be asked something like that. Most people already knew simple things like that about you and immediately jumped into asking the private questions. It was one of the many cons about going pro. "Middle blocker." You replied flatly. He nodded, "Me too." You didn't realize it, but he felt a burn on his cheeks. To him, this was an obvious and stupid question to ask. You looked up at him and realized the height difference. You were used to being too tall for most boys, even though you only stood at 5'11. To some, this was too tall, but somehow he was actually taller than you.

You two had spent the next few hours practicing together, giving him tips on how to get better and small changes he could make. You noticed yourself staring at him a bit more than you probably should have. Admiring the way his hair perfectly framed his face, the way his glasses highlighted his golden brown eyes, his slender fingers. "Are you okay?" You heard him ask.

You snapped out of it, realizing you had been staring. Quietly apologizing, you tried to change the subject. "Have you thought about going pro?" He let out a scoff, as if it was a dumb question. "I wouldn't stick around for this long if I hadn't." You felt the same burning in your face that he had earlier, and just nodded, almost feeling guilty for asking such a dumb question. He noticed this before adding, "Why did you decide to?"

It was a good question, one you hated having to answer. "I'm not.. entirely sure." You paused mid sentence, "My parents were, so it was just kind of expected for me. It's not that I hate it, but sometimes I think of doing other stuff when I get older." He nodded along. You hated being a pro at so young. It drew so much attention towards you and it was hard to keep simple aspects of your life private. You never had many friends outside of your team, couldn't go to public school, and everywhere you went there were cameras flashing in your face. You enjoyed it, but the fame was tiring.

You noticed that this time, he was the one looking at you, studying your features.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

When your team had left, the coaches insisted you all kept in contact with each other. You wouldn't have minded it so much if it weren't for the fact that you just could not stop thinking about him.

It was a few weeks after, you sat outside after practice. Your team mate and best friend, f/n, sat next to you. "Have you talked to that Tsukishima boy yet?" She asked, a sly grin on her face. "No, why?" You questioned. There wasn't much to talk about, but you told him you could text him if he needed any more help. "I saw the way you two were staring at each other, I mean come on, y/n, its a perfect match." You scoffed at her and rolled your eyes. "Why, 'cause we're both tall?" She playfully nudged your shoulder "AND," she added, "You both play the same position! Plus, he's cute."

Your face blushed, you knew she was just teasing you but what was the harm in getting closer to him? She wasn't wrong, he really was cute.

"I don't think I should be getting into relationships though, it would never be private." You looked at her, a tinge of sadness in your eyes at the thought of it. You were never able to have a boyfriend and while you never really wanted one, you started to toy with the idea a little bit after seeing him.

F/n only rolled her eyes, "I think you're dramatic."

Maybe you were, maybe not. What was worth the risk?

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You heard the familiar DING from your phone, a new text from someone.

"It's Tsukishima, thanks for the help last month."

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw his name, realizing he was the one texting you.

"Of course, any time."

It felt embarrassing in a way, wondering if you should've added more or less, looking for a way to keep the conversation going. You didn't have to though, it was like he read your mind.

"Would you wanna go to a cafe with me this weekend?"

Were you imagining things? It wasn't even a minute later that he texted again.

"Sorry, forget it. Nevermind."

Why was he backing down now?

"No wait, I'd love to."

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

And so, the following Monday after that weekend, neither of you said a word to anyone, it was the news paper that did the talking for you both.

"Y/N L/N SEEN WITH BOY AT CAFE THIS SATURDAY MORNING."

Included with a picture and all.

[sunoostripletriple]

The other side of the moon y.jw ff

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅpairing: Enhypen Yang Jungwon x Reader

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅgenre: fluff, a bit suggestive, plot twist?! (maybe)

༊*·˚♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Synopsis:  After a long awaited moment you finally get to see your one and only true love. The person you've been anticipating to see so desperately has finally come to see you.

It's been a while since you finally got the chance to sit down and look at the beautiful night sky. The full moon shining so brightly right at you. 

You feel a sudden rush of sadness, as you reminisce about the dates you've had with your boyfriend, who is now away for an important business trip. 

He’s been on the trip for almost 2 months, and you still have to wait for him to come back for another 5.

Having a boyfriend who is an idol gets you worried, often wondering about what would happen if people were to find out that you guys were together. This thought had you going through so much overthinking ever since you guys got into a relationship. But no matter what, Jungwon always reassures you, saying that his fans are the nicest people he has ever come across, and that even if they find out you're both together no one can split you guys up.

You suddenly remember that Jungwon, your boyfriend recently wrote a new song for their upcoming album and decided to listen to the demos he sent you.

Hundred Broken Hearts

Oh, how you missed his sweet, sweet voice. The more you listened to the song, the more it made you want to desperately run into his arms and give him the sweetest kiss ever, letting him know how badly you have missed him.

Moonstruck

Listening to this song had you blushing from the beginning till the end. You can't help but imagine how far you and Jungwon have gone in this relationship. You can't even lie and say that it has you giggling and blushing like a little girl at some parts of the song.

After listening to the song demos, you couldn't help but send a message to your significant other. 

“I miss you so much, love.”

“Please come back soon.”

You know it's a bit early in the country where he is right now. Even if you message him right now, it would probably take him hours till he can finally reply back to you. However, it seems like fate has other plans for you, and soon your phone starts to ring.

Bzz bzz bzz

The phone continues to ring, making you check to see who is calling you at this late hour.

“It’s Jungwon!” You say. Smiling and answering the phone call from your boyfriend.

Phone call [jungwon]

You: hey babe!

Jungwon: Hey honey bunz. I missed you!

You: why are you up so early? You should sleep more!

Jungwon: I couldn't stop thinking about you all night, I couldn't even sleep a wink. You hear him chuckle on the other side.

You: hey! I can hear laughter, you know. You say pouting. I’m just worried you haven’t got the rest you need, with that hectic  schedule you guys have with that tour. 

Jungwon: Don't worry babe, I’m doing just fine. You know I’m a strong guy so don’t stress about it, okay?

You: Fine.. if you say so.

Jungwon: anyways!! I wanted to call you since I wanna just spend my day off talking to my one and only love and talk about how we met.

You: I was literally just thinking about that too!

Jungwon: Remember that one time at the park? Where we first met?

You: Yeah, and please don’t remind me. I looked so ugly that night. You even had to see my ugly crying face.

Jungwon: Oh please! You looked beautiful! If anything, me seeing you that night was when I first fell for you.

Jungwon: You could say that it could have been ‘love at first sight’

You chuckle at his response.

You: I had mascara running down my face and you’re telling me you fell for me that same night?

Jungwon: Mhmm. He hums. I really did!

You: Stop lying. You protest back. 

Jungwon: Anyways let's move on from that.

You: Actually, I’m thinking of going on a walk to that same park right now. Should I?

Jungwon: Sure! Whatever eases your mind, cutie. 

You: Let me get ready and I’ll call you again when I get to the park.

Jungwon: Alrighty then. Stay safe and make sure to look left and right when crossing. I love you

You: yes mother. I love you too.  You say jokingly as you end the call with Jungwon.

You put your phone down as you walk over your dresser to put on one of the hoodies that was given to you by your boyfriend. “This should keep me warm enough.” you say as you also put a beanie and sneakers on to complete your look.

“I’m so glad the park is only a few blocks away from my place.” you say with relief as you cross the empty street towards the entry of the park. “I should probably call him again.” and not even a few seconds later your call was answered right away.

Phone call [jungwon]

Jungwon: Did you make it safely?

You: Mhmm. You hum softly. I’m by the playground where we always hang around.

You: Wishing you’re right next to me right now.

Jungwon: Just keep wishing then maybe it’ll come true.

You giggle at his silly suggestion and walk over to the swings near the bench you guys first both met. 

You: Maybe I will. You say as you sit yourself on the swing.

Jungwon: Baby.. 

You: Yes?

Jungwon: You know how badly I missed your voice? Your touch? Your kiss? And the way you play with my hair? I missed your everything so badly my love.

You: Me too, love. I miss you so much.

Jungwon: I bet the moon looks just as beautiful as you tonight my love.

Unbeknownst to you, someone, not far from your current location is looking your way and adores how you look at the moon just above you. A sweet and fond smile forms on his lips showing his cute cat-like features.

 You: Saying that while you’re not next to me is just a crime you know. A pout forming on your lips.

A snicker is heard between the trees not far from you causing you to turn your head. You pay no mind to it as you realize you might have just imagined it.

Jungwon: You know each and every word I say is the truth and nothing but the truth. I wouldn’t say something I don’t really mean and you should know that by now. 

You: You win this time, Yang Jungwon.

Jungwon did his best to stay hidden, crouching behind the trees with all the stealth he could muster. He squinted at the lamppost in the distance, watching Y/N pace back and forth as her voice echoed faintly through the phone pressed against his ear.

Everything was going smoothly—well, until the mosquitoes decided to crash his little stakeout.

A couple of them buzzed around his face like tiny, winged nuisances, one especially bold intruder hovering dangerously close to his nose. Jungwon froze, scrunching his face in a valiant effort to hold it back. But the tickle was relentless.

“Achoo!”

The sneeze erupted, louder than he intended, startling even the crickets. He froze, his eyes wide with panic as Y/N’s voice cut off mid-sentence.

“Wait... Was that—” Y/N paused, tilting her head. “Did you just sneeze on the phone? Or… wait, was that from the trees?”

Jungwon mentally facepalmed, realizing his sneeze had betrayed him not once, but twice.

“Uh... bless me?” he mumbled weakly into the phone, but Y/N was already walking toward the lamppost, her curiosity piqued.

“Jungwon?” she called out, stifling a laugh as her eyes scanned the darkened trees.

From his less-than-perfect hiding spot, Jungwon let out a resigned sigh. “Stupid mosquitoes,” he muttered under his breath, preparing to come out before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

“Surprise?!” Jungwon jumps up with both hands mimicking a Peek-a-boo like pose.

You end the call that was still on-going on your phone and wrap your arms around him.

“I missed you so much” You say as you place your hand on his cheeks looking up at him from his chest.

“So much for a cool surprise am i right?” he laughs as he places a soft kiss onto your plum lips. Oh how he missed the touch of your lips right up on his and how long he has waited to finally see you and feel you right up on his arms once again.

“Just as I mentioned earlier. You’re just as beautiful as the moon tonight my love.” he says before continuing on with giving you the most passionate and heart melting kiss you’ve ever had your whole life. The sweet taste of cherry with a mix of strawberry from both yours and Jungwon’s chapstick just couldn’t explain how much you both have been wanting this moment to never stop. A slick of saliva comes out as you both slowly pull away to take a break as you both try to catch your breaths.

“Why are you here?” you ask as you finally realized that your boyfriend who’s supposed to be in America is now back in Korea right in front of you. “Weren’t you supposed to be in America right now with the boys?” you continue to ask.

“I lied and told them I’m homesick and that I’ll join them again in 2 weeks” He chuckled knowing how you’ll probably make this into a big deal.

“What do you mean join them again?? You guys are on a tour, Jungwon wouldn’t you get in trouble when they find out you only came back to see me?” You say as you bombard him with a series of questions not even letting him interrupt you.

“What are you saying, y/n? You are home. You’re my home.” he says as he pulls you by the waist for another hug whilst giving you a small peck on your temples.

You blush at his actions and just lay on his chest as you comfortably feel the beat of his heart slowly rising. The sound of his comforting humming sounds just like a lullaby and you can never explain how much warmth it gives. You slowly lose consciousness as you lay next to your lovely boyfriend knowing nothing is ever going to separate the two of you till the end of the world. 

“Wake up! Wake Up!!” you feel a weak push on your side. Not wanting to wake up, you turn around and ignore whoever is trying to wake you up.

“I said wake up! Wake up, alweady!” the small figure next to your sleeping body grows frustrated as you show no signs of wanting to wake up.

“If you don’t wake up right now, I’m going to tattle on daddy.” the little girl sulks both rosy cheeks puffing out in annoyance.

Just from the word ‘daddy’ got you opening both eyes wide open in shock. “Daddy?” you repeat. “Yeah, Wonnie papa.” the little girl says.

“Daddy said I should wake you up since we're going on a twip today!” the girls exclaim in excitement. 

“Ahh is that what daddy said Yeonie?” you ask your daughter.

“Yup!! I hope we’re going to lotte world today! I’m so excited mommy!” little Yeonie says as she jumps on the mattress. “Well you should get ready then so we can head out soon, alrighty sweety?” you give Yeonie a kiss as you lead her back to her room.

You sigh as you realize the dream was all just a flashback from 3 years ago. The same occurrence happens once every full moon. It's like a little recall on the most heartfelt moment you’ve ever had in your whole life.

“Honey, are you in there?” you hear a familiar voice and a knock on the bedroom door. You open the door not to only see your husband but also your first and last love. Yang Jungwon.

༊*·˚♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

a/n: sorry for not being able to post for awhile pooks. If I'm being honest I did unfortunately lose the motivation to write for awhile and due to my work schedule i haven't been able to do much on this app;-;;;. I've also had this ff in my drafts for awhile now and haven't been able to finish writing it until now so I hope you guys will love this one.

taglist: @velvetkisscs @random-potat @yoizhrs

[someprettyname]

Pairing : Bachira Meguru x Reader

Basics : SFW, aged up readers, reader is a certain someone's sister

Your eyes observe the light bounce off the golden of your champagne as you swirl it in your flute. Well, that's all there was to observe anyways. 

You sigh and look around. God. Why did you let your brother drag you here to begin with? 

"Careful!" Your head whips towards the source of the warning, an eyebrow raised. "You might step on my heart which just fell for you." 

You blink slowly. Did he just.... Oh. Yeah. He really just used that on you. You scoff in amusement.

Then why is it that you are NOT unimpressed? 

You scan him up head to toe - blunt bangs, highlights, blazer rolled up and first two buttons unbuttoned. 

Quirky yet mature. 

Hm. Is that golden retriever energy that you sense? 

After your initial silence (in your defence, you didn't expect to be hit with such a cheesy pick up line NOW of all times) you speak up, "Good for you, I'm a very careful person." Your tone was hostile enough to let him know you aren't going to entertain another man just looking for hookups but all your initial suspicions are thrown out of the window when he grins. 

Oh. 

Adorable. 

"Well good for me i found YOU of all beautiful then ~" 

Yeah. DEFINITELY golden retriever. 

You couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle, cheeks flushing slightly. And if you were looking up, right at him you'd have seen the way his eyes lit up with you smiled. 

"Y/N," you look up, "in case you wanted to put a name to this beautiful face."

"Meguru," he offers you his hand with sparkly eyes, "Bachira Meguru." 

Despite your scepticism (or tiredness, could be either at this point of this time), you couldn't help but smile at his energy as you shake hands, "It suits you," you take a sip as he takes a seat beside you. 

He was about to say something in turn when your brother appears behind you, "Bachira!" You almost roll your eyes, "I thought you'd left," he then looks down at you, "enjoying yourself?" You simply shrug. 

Are you? 

Isagi sighs internally, "In any case, now that you're both here let me introduce you to each other! Y/N this is Bachira, Bachira this is Y/N, my sister." 

a/n : i was just in a mood to write and this has been sitting in my drafts since September so i decided to give it a direction. This is my first time writing him so I honestly dunno what I'm doing. If you have any feedback, please do give me. I'm also very tired of electrochemistry. I'll write a part 2 too maybe, i just haven't seen any fics with Bachira where she's isagi's sister so i thought it'd be a fun dynamic to mess with :]

divider credit - @/cafekitsune

[haikyu-mp4]

The Board Game

word count; 909 – f!reader, part 2 of this

You and Hirugami sat by the window with a sushi plate between you. Neither could decide what you wanted, leading to a shared menu with a side of shy smiles and warm cheeks. The topics of conversation ranged from politics to fun facts, and you never stopped unless it was to take another bite. Entirely consumed with each other, neither of you noticed when one of Hirugami’s best friends walked in the door.

"Sachirooooo!" Hoshiumi exclaimed loudly when he noticed his friend sitting by the window.

"Korai?" Hirugami jumped in his seat, turning his head so quickly that you wondered if it hurt his neck. "What are you doing here?" They did a short handshake before Hoshiumi turned to the other person sitting by the table with a mischievous look.

"I was getting a coffee before my next class. What are the two of you doing?" Hoshiumi’s voice went lighter, teasing him, his eyes seemingly asking a different question. He made a swirly gesture to the table and took notice of your shared food. Both you and Hirugami’s cheeks flushed darker red, glancing at each other.

"I'm y/n," you introduced yourself, ignoring the question, and lifted a hand for the shorter man to shake. He took it, winking playfully at you.

"Hoshiumi, nice to meet you." Hirugami always admired Hoshiumi’s confidence in talking to literally anyone, for better or for worse. "You're lucky, going on a date with such a handsome man," Hoshiumi said, putting his hands on Hirugami’s broad shoulders and shaking them while he kept eye contact with you.

"I know I am," you answered, feeding off the vibrant energy he brought with him. Hirugami’s heart beat faster, and he couldn't help but grin happily at your answer, which you noticed. His smile was one of your favourite things about him so far.

"Don't let me disturb you, lovebirds. I'll leave you alo-" Hoshiumi moved to the edge of the table again, but stopped talking when you were looking at each other instead of him, seemingly having a telepathic conversation of your own. He wondered if you would even notice if he just walked away. "Bye-bye."

"Bye, Korai."

"Nice to meet you, Hoshiumi."

"He's so weird," Hirugami chuckled awkwardly after a few seconds of silent smiles.

"He was nice. I can see why you're friends." You raised your chopsticks and picked up another bite of sushi, looking up at him before tucking the food between your lips. "So, where were we?"

"I believe I just told you how nice you look today," Hirugami answered with as much confidence as he could muster. He already felt something sweet for you but was unsure about whether you were just like that or if you felt something too.

"Sachirooo," you cooed and chuckled, completely charmed and not even noticing that you used his first name. "You look good as well; I like that shirt on you," you said back while nodding as if analysing him like an art piece. Hirugami checked all your boxes so far, and you couldn't wait to get to know him more. Your eyes strayed to the shelves of board games that stood along the opposite wall, lifting a curious eyebrow. "Wanna play a game?"

"A game?" You walked over there and picked up your favourite strategic game, Carcassonne. You turned the box to show him while walking back. "You have amazing taste in board games," he claimed, and anyone could see how smitten he was with you.

"You know this one?" Your eyes went wide with a look that reminded Hirugami of a little kid who was told she could get another cookie. "It's my favourite." Your voice was soft, and it warmed his ears.

"I hope you're ready to lose, sweetheart." It was the first time he referred to you by a nickname, and you could positively say you enjoyed it.

"Honey, you're the one who should be ready to fall off that high horse of yours," you countered. Hirugami could swear his heart melted at this point.

"It's on!" You two played for hours, always catching up to each other in points and looking into each other's eyes intensely, trying to read their strategy. Still, you couldn’t help but help each other too.

"Are you sure you want to put it there? I think there are better opportunities here."

"You're right. Thanks, Hirugami."

"No problem."

"I wouldn't do that. If you turn it around and place it in here, you get half the area covered in one move.

"I didn't even see that road. Thanks."

By the time you agreed to stop, the two of you had won equally as many rounds and it took everything not to settle it. But not settling it was a weird way of agreeing this was not the end. You cleaned up and walked out of the cafe, conversation still ongoing. "I had a lot of fun with you," Hirugami admitted when you had to go your separate ways.

"Me too, we should do it again sometime," you answered, standing up on the tip of your toes to peck his cheek, once again tinting it red. "You're my only worthy opponent."

"I'll text you, we can meet for a rematch?"

"Definitely." You looked contently at each other, lost in the other's eyes. Both were slowly walking backwards, not wanting to be the first to turn away until you had to.

"Bye, y/n."

"Bye, Hirugami."

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Three

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst obviously what would this story be without it, poppy and nico having an overdue conversation, nico moping again with his big sad brown eyes, nico being jealous again, drinking, cursing, meddling friends, being stood up, mentions of controlling parents as always, a little touching maybe a little more kissing too and even more meddling friends

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Two)

A/N: I have nothing to say honestly just hope you enjoy I really don't know why I struggled writing most of this despite knowing what I wanted to do with it I think just figuring out how I want certain conversations to go and how to get from a to b is pure stresssss I'm not entirely in love with it but what can you do also proofread her? I hardly know her

but if you have anything to say pls send it my way lmao I'd really like to hear any thoughts or opinions 💓

Poppy

Poppy was once told by her good friend, Kelsey, that she would be able to tell everything she needed to know about a guy by the way they answered one very simple question. 

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

She thinks about it more often than she really should, if she’s honest with herself, but Kelsey’s rationale behind each potential answer is actually a stroke of rare genius - and Poppy often finds herself applying the logic to most people that she encounters.

Guys who say super speed are the ultimate red flag. No one wants a quick finisher, no matter how fast they may be in any other aspect of life. Some things specifically require time and patience. Sacrificing your partner’s satisfaction all to say you can run the world record fastest 5k is the ultimate ick.

There’s an argument to be made for the endurance choosers, it sure has its perks, but Poppy thinks it’s a boring pick. To be given the option of any superpower, and to choose perseverance, of all things? Get a life. 

Anyone who chooses x-ray vision is a certified pervert, obviously. The same could be said for those wanting to read minds, although most of the guys Poppy has seen in her life struggle to comprehend the things she says in plain words, never mind whatever nonsense is circling through her inner thoughts. 

Those who choose flying are one dimensional, rarely able to see beyond what’s right in front of them, because, if they could, they’d choose the much better option of teleportation.

Who chooses flying when you could just think about somewhere and instantaneously arrive? With your hair in tact and no risk of bumping into any territorial birds.

Teleportation is what Poppy would have picked if anyone would have asked her a week ago, for the mere fact that commuting anywhere is the bane of her entire existence, and if she thinks too hard about it or looks to much into it, it always has been. 

She associates it with sitting in the back of her dad’s Bentley as a child, a tangible, frosty silence lingering in the air between her parents after one of their many even-toned arguments disguised as discussions, the fresh pine scent making her car sick and the leather seats making the back of her thighs sticky. 

Or the fragile bones of her hand being crushed by her mother’s tight grip as they rode the Amtrak over to Manhattan, Priscilla sneering at anyone who dared step too close on the crowded carriage, Poppy being dragged throughout department stores in the name of mother-daughter bonding time, and clutching to a tiny consolation Macy’s bag housing a sparkly lip gloss like her life depended on it the whole way home. 

She thinks of all the hours of her life she’s wasted on the Palisades Parkway, no longer able to enjoy the scenic route whenever she has to drive back to her parent’s house in Alpine after having watched one too many crime shows where a broken down car leads to a girl’s face plastered all over the news.

Even driving to work can feel like hell when the traffic is bad, what should be a 30 minute drive sometimes turning into an hour, Poppy’s fingers cramping around the wheel and her feet itching to touch solid ground after too long.

Teleportation sounds perfect.

And, there’s even a romance element to it. Being whisked away to Paris in the blink of an eye, suddenly sitting outside a boulangerie, decadent, rich hot chocolate on a table in front of her and a plate full of pastries, all because she mentioned a slight craving for a pain au chocolat. 

Teleportation has always been the only correct, green-flag answer to the question. 

Until Poppy properly considered time travel, that is.

The concept of it has always been a little too much or her to handle - too many strange loopholes, too many bad examples from the sci-fi movies her brother had loved as a kid. Travelling back in time to when her parents were her age and accidentally capturing her adolescent father’s attention à la Marty McFly? Sounds like hell and horror to Poppy. 

But that was before she screwed everything up.

If she could have any superpower right now, currently weighed down with the burden of hindsight - which people have always told her is a funny thing, but she thinks is actually somewhat diabolical - she would pick time travel a thousand times over.

Because if human beings have a specific part of their brain that is dedicated to forcing them to sit and stew on their every poor decision for days on end - lets them rethink and regret everything until they’re blue in the face, and can’t think of anything other than how idiotic they have been - it should also offer the kindness of being able to go back and change what they so royally fucked up.

That’s what Poppy thinks, at least, as she throws herself down onto her bed, her back hitting the duvet in a whoosh and all she can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder how and when she became such a certified moron.

There’s a part of her that suspects it’s in her genes. Inevitable. Unavoidable. Nature and nurture, she was born and raised to be a full blown fool.

Poppy comes from a long line of privilege, and while it does take a certain element of intelligence to amass the wealth her family has, it also tends to go hand in hand with ignorance in its many forms.

Behind every fortuitous business move her father makes are a million other mistakes - failed ventures, bad investments, shoddy pieces of advice accepted from the untrustworthy snakes he surrounds himself with. Hidden beneath every rung of the social ladders her mother has managed to climb, there are the ugly faux-pas’ slipping through the cracks of a former, more unsavoury life she can never run too far from. And her brother - well, she suspects he’s just an idiot, there are no two ways about it.

She knows that she needs to stop blaming her family, though. This time, it’s all her.

She can’t blame her father for the way she overthinks, the man who makes every decision in life with the littlest regard for how anyone else feels about it. She can’t blame her mother for the way she places such little value on herself, the woman who walks into every room like she owns it and refuses to let anyone make her think otherwise.

Except maybe she can.

If she had the nerve to talk to a therapist, they might disagree - might say her overthinking comes from her dad’s lack of communication skills, a part of her brain always filling in the gaps of a half-assed, other side of any conversation with him. Or they might say her insecurities come from her mom constantly putting Poppy down while telling her to be more sure of herself - stop slouching, Poppy, no one will take you seriously with the posture of a candy cane.

She’d love to know where her need to repress her feelings so deep that she becomes an impenetrable, cold, dark fortress comes from. The need to push and shove when someone tries to get too close, because God forbid anything is ever easy when it comes to her affections.

It would have made the past 4 days since Nico had walked into her apartment and kissed the life out of her a whole lot easier. 

4 days spent reminiscing, rethinking and regretting every single thing she had said and done since their lips parted, since he had put his heart on the line and she’d whacked it away, full swing, as if too desperate for the victory of a last-bat home run.

If she could time travel, she’d do the whole thing over.

-

“Don’t go on that date, Mohn.”

She had read the words on his lips before they registered through her ears, the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body occupying every sense for a brief moment.

What the hell is going on?

Nico had kissed her. He’d grabbed her, pulled her into him, and she’s pretty sure he had made her heart stop for a good second - there’s no other justifiable reason for the way it had been reverberating against her ribcage ever since. 

And then he stood before her, a desperate, pleading projection playing in his dark irises, lips still slick from where her own had just been, cheeks flushed, shoulders rising with subtle panting breaths, waiting for a response to a question she couldn’t even remember hearing.

“W-what?” She’d stuttered, blinking hard and shaking her head as if to rattle her brain into whatever semblance of cognisance she could muster.

Nico had kissed her, and then wanted to talk? As if she had the brain power left for any kind of discussion after that?

He seemed proud of the mess he had made of her, lips lifting at one side, drawing her gaze immediately to every movement they made, so focused on the memory of how pillowy-soft they had felt against hers that she didn’t notice him stepping a little closer, raising a large hand to tuck her hair behind her ear until she flinched at the contact.

“Sunday, Poppy,” he had uttered, unfazed by her skittishness, “Your date, don’t go.”

She had blinked again, completely overwhelmed on every front. She could still taste him on her tongue, he was so close she could smell his cologne, tunnel vision only seeing him in front of her and the hand that cupped the side of her face in her peripheral, her heartbeat echoing through her skull and every nerve, every slight hair on her body, standing as if trying to close the distance between his body and hers.

It was the sensory overload that made her go against all other instincts.

“I can’t.” Her voice had sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks, croaky and unsure, her next words stammered, “I can’t not go, I mean. I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go, Poppy,”

“No, I do.” That had sounded a little surer, the fog in her brain slowly clearing only for something more tumultuous to pass through in it’s place. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Nico blinked once, then again, frustration clear in the furrow of his thick brows as he seemed to stew on his next words, desperate to say the right thing. There was a prolonged, tense beat, before he had asked, “Have you ever thought we could be more?”

“More?”

“More than friends.”

If her heart hadn’t stopped when he had kissed her, it must have stopped then.

His back straight, eyes looking directly into hers, a hopeful, inquisitive gleam shining from within them - he had never seemed so sure of something for as long as she had known him.

Poppy couldn’t stop the little voice in her head questioning, where the hell has this come from?

“Have you?” She had asked with a eyre of disbelief.

 Not once in the years she had known him had he ever made it seem like they could be more. There had always been an unspeakable, undeniable barrier between them. They were friends. They’d always been friends. Just friends.

Friends who spent most of their free, personal time together, friends who bought each other sentimental gifts they’d never get for anyone else, who shared intimate details about their lives and their pasts, and kissed each others heads like a goodbye ritual. Friends who broke each other’s hearts, seemingly beyond repair, without explanation.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I mean,” He had paused, breaking eye contact for a second as if wracking his brain for the right answer, sensing a teetering tension between the two of them. “Yeah. Yes. I have.”

She had narrowed her eyes at him, weighing up the possibility in her mind that she wouldn’t have liked any response he gave to her, every prospective answer causing a flood of doubt and uncertainty to crash in rushing, destructive waves through her mind. “Since when?” She’d asked, trying to level her bite.

If he’d ever thought they could be more, what the hell have they been doing all this time?

“Since I met you, I think,” he had shrugged.

Wrong answer, again.

“And you only bring it up when I have a date with someone else?”

She watched a series of antithetical emotions pass through his features, understanding, confusion, acceptance, denial, resilience, cowardice. He had seemed to find the small margins between all of them, when he had come back with, “It’s not because of your date, Poppy.”

“Then why?” She tilted her head as she continued to analyse him, again not sure what she was looking for, or what she wanted to find. That something tumultuous was already whirling within her, too late to be stopped, and Nico could seemingly see the warning signs.

“Why are you getting mad at me, right now?”

“I’m not mad,” she had denied, not even knowing if she was lying or not, “I’m confused. 2 weeks ago, we weren’t even talking, Nico-,”

“You said you forgave me for that.”

“I didn’t-.” She’d cut herself off before she could say something that would upset him, the conversation spiralling so far out of control from the momentary bliss he had provided only minutes ago - but she was too far up shit’s creek without a paddle, there was no turning back. She’d been wanting to have a proper conversation with Nico all week, what better time than the middle of the night on what was now his birthday? “That’s not exactly what I said.”

He had taken a step back, lips parting with an unreleased gasp, the once-hopeful glint in his eyes transforming into hurt. “You don’t forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that either,” she sighed, wanting answers, not to cause him anguish. “Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then tell me what the hell is wrong? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t understand where this has come from, Nico! You come in here and kiss me out of nowhere and tell me not to date other people and I’m just supposed to blindly follow along when I don’t get what the hell is happening with you!”

“I think me kissing you makes it pretty obvious what I want to happen, Mohn.” He had tried to ease the tension, his voice level and steady, stepping forward with his hands raised in an attempt to calm her, but she had taken a slight step back, clearly unaffected. 

“It doesn’t.” She’d stopped looking at him at that point, keeping an eye on his feet to watch his encroaching steps. “Nothing about you is obvious. You don’t tell me anything and all I can think about is what I did wrong.”

If he couldn’t see the tears pooling at her lashes, he had to have heard the break in her voice - a sure indicator that she was close to crying - but his steps had stopped, feet seemingly stuck to their place on the hardwood flooring of Poppy’s apartment, and she could feel her heart shatter knowing he wasn’t persisting again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tries to reassure her, but it’s no use.

Maybe she would have believed him if he’d held her while he said it, transferred the meaning through touch to her skin, gripping her with every word until she truly understood the weight of them.

“It had to have been something. You don’t just stop wanting to know a person for no reason, Nico, so what was it?” She made her way to her couch, perching on the edge of the seat with her knees pressed together, and looked over to where he remained standing.

She could feel her temper flaring again. 

How could he have the nerve to do this to her - to turn her world upside down in a matter of minutes - and not have the answers she needed to accept it?

“Poppy-,”

“I need to know. I can’t drop it and forget about it, and I’m sorry that I made it seem like I could, but if you want us to move on from this, if you want to come here and kiss me like that, and tell me you don’t want me seeing other people, I need to know what happened.”

“I-,” Nico sighed heavily, shoulders drooping, any confidence and bravado he had displayed after their kiss now a distant memory. “I don’t know.”

She had an immediate, striking thought, that maybe if she asked closed questions, he could give her an answer, and so, with misplaced courage, she asked, “Was it her?”

“What?”

“Your girlfriend. Did she ask you to stop talking to me?”

It was a thought that had been plaguing her for longer than she’d like to admit - unable to shake the idea that maybe Talia had seen one of the texts she had sent, had gone through Nico’s phone and seen any of their older messages, any photos he might have kept on his phone, maybe a memory had come up from snapchat, maybe someone had mentioned Poppy and her curiosity had been piqued. 

Poppy had always thought if she was dating someone, and they had a Poppy, she might feel some type of way about it. 

But her and Nico were just friends.

Nico rounded the couch, sitting on the cushion beside Poppy, their knees knocking as he reached into her lap and took her shaking hands in his.

“Do you really think I’d stop talking to you just because someone asked me to?” Their eyes had met again, sadness brewing in the dark coffee colour surrounding his dilated pupils, and a glassy film coating her own. “Poppy, I would never.”

“I don’t know what to think, Nico, because you won’t tell me.”

“Because it doesn’t make sense! I try wrapping my head around it, try coming up with some kind of explanation, but nothing I say is going to change what I did to you, Poppy.”

Her question before had gotten her an honest response, had elicited something real and undeniable within him - he’d never stop talking to her because someone asked him to. So it was his own decision, subconscious or not. Maybe she could help dig further, she thought.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked after a beat.

“I,” Nico pondered over it before rushing his answer, a wave of emotion flashing across his face before his eyes locked on hers, ready to let her in. “Because I wanted to.”

That was a start - a simple question, a straightforward answer. 

“Was that the first time that you wanted to?”

“No.”

Poppy could feel some semblance of confidence coming back. Closed questions, concrete answers, she could keep this up.

“When was the last time you wanted to kiss me?”

She could have asked the first - she sure as hell wanted to know it, but if he’d thought of being more the entire time they’d known each other, there was a lingering possibility there were many times - and they would be there until sunrise if they started from the beginning.

“Finnegan’s.” 

“The bar?”

“We went there when we came back after we crashed out of the playoffs, do you remember?”

She remembered.

It had only been a couple of days before Nico had left for his summer back home in Switzerland.

Their loss in Carolina had been devastating, the boys came back broken and defeated, and all just wanted to drown their sorrows before they broke for their off-season. Poppy had been out with Nia and Kelsey and a few other friends at another bar when Jack had responded to her instagram story, saying they’d be at the Irish pub that was a staple within the team, and she should come over and join them.

She had made her way over pretty late, wanting to make sure her friends were okay without her, and arrived when most of the boys were completely shit-faced, past the point of tears and moping and deep into a mass state of hysteria and loud jubilation for the successes along the way.

She had found Nico in a booth in the far corner of the bar, head slumped over the back, eyes seemingly tracing the cracks in the ceiling until she crawled into the bench behind him, leaned over with her elbows resting on either side of his head, and took up his entire view. 

“What’cha doin’?” She’d asked, lips twisting at the sight of his dizzy eyes trying to correct themselves to focus on her. 

He’d quickly given up, pressing his eyes closed to shut out the risk of nausea taking over, the outer corners crinkling, the sides of his nose scrunching and his eyelashes fanning a shadow over his cheekbones - her own eyes were level with his lips, so he couldn’t really hide the way they curved at the quick glimpse of her.

“Suffering,” he had muttered, squinting one eye open to catch a brief, upside down glance of her. Nico was never this down after a few drinks. He was giggly, he was loud, he was touchy and clumsy - he was never the hide away in the corner sad type. “Wanna join me?”

“Always.” She affirmed, making her way around to his side of the booth and sliding in beside him until her bare thigh pressed against the somewhat scratchy linen of the pants he wore. 

“I’m probably not the best company tonight,” He remained in the same position, neck craning so the base of his head could rest atop the back of the seat, and his eyes closed - giving Poppy the perfect opportunity to properly look him over.

The few moments they’d had together, alone, over the past few weeks, he’d been pent up, stressed, overworked and on the brink of eruption, so this was the first time in a long time she’d managed to catch him without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Only, that weight wasn’t so easy to shift.

She saw it in the bags under his eyes, in the unkempt playoff beard he was yet to shave off, in the stuttered way his chest rose and fell with his attempts at deep, calming breaths. 

As she watched him, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth in contemplation, she knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about this. He just had to feel it out, process it in his own way without her interference - but she wanted to be there, at least.

And as much as she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he did the best he could, and led his team through one of their strongest seasons in recent franchise history, she wanted to provide him comfort in the quiet, too.

“I don’t mind.”

And so, with little trepidation, she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and rested her head next to it, glancing up to see the push of a dimple forming on his cheek as his arm stretched around her and welcomed her into his warm embrace.

“You wanted to kiss me then?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Didn’t seem like the right time, though,” he followed up with an answer to a question she hadn’t even asked, yet. “I was leaving too soon and I didn’t want you to think I’d just kissed you because I was drunk and upset.”

Her eyes moved to his lips, a question for herself whirling around in her head. Would she have wanted him to kiss her then? What would have happened in the aftermath? Where would they be now? Would she have thought that? Would she have spent her summer stewing over what it meant, and how his lips had felt against hers?

Before she had much time to think it over, Nico continued, being spurred on by such a distinct memory that he was rolling towards the answer she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to stop him to try and decipher her own feelings.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I went home, thinking about wanting to kiss you, or not kissing you, and what it all would mean, and I kept trying to distract myself thinking I could just figure it all out when I came back here but then I met Talia, and I felt wrong for thinking about you when I had her.”

That had made sense. Nico was always a guy that would do the right thing. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t think of the prospect of something with someone else, even if that someone was Poppy, and that something was a culmination of years of pent up feelings finally coming together to form something potentially wonderful.

She didn’t quite need or want to hear the rest. Didn’t want to hear how he’d gone looking for a distraction, and found just that. 

Nico was loyal, and for him to maintain that essence of himself, he had to ignore the possibility of Poppy. Some subconscious part within him saw her as a threat to the stability he had with the perfect girl from back home, and he boxed her away to make room for what could be with Talia.

It stung, but he was right. Neither of them could change what had already happened.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

She’d nodded after only a second, barely even thinking about it.

Jack’s words from New Years Eve rang through her, suck it up and move on.

Nico had his reasons, she had her answers. He wasn’t bored of her, wasn’t tired of her or annoyed by her. He’d been so caught up by his unspoken, untranslated feelings for her that he twisted himself into untangle-able knots that were only just starting to loosen up enough to be picked apart.

“Could you maybe say it?”

“Yeah, I could.” she had said through trembling lips, the hurt in his voice burrowing through her eardrums, lodging itself in her own throat, and dripping slowly but surely into the depths of her chest. “I will.” She had to be more sure, needing to erase any doubt she had planted within him. “I do.”

“You do?”

He still held her hands in his from when he had sat down, palms warm and slightly perspirant from his tight grip around her knuckles.

“I forgive you.”

His mouth twitched into a shaky smile, his eyes catching the soft light and twinkling with emotion, and she definitely wanted to kiss him, then.

She had wondered if this is what he felt when he’d kissed her before, this burning need. Her fingers twitched in his hold, her heart thudded in her chest, and her lips parted in anticipation, until she could finally slam the breaks on her torpedoing thoughts.

“It’s just a lot to process, and I don’t really know how I feel.”

She had wished she could take it back as soon as the words left her mouth, and Nico’s features had folded as he took them in. He broke eye contact almost immediately, head dropping to look down at their hands until he released hers back into her lap. 

“I get it.” He uttered, forcing a smile as he glanced back up at her, briefly. “I sprung this on you out of nowhere, I’m s-,”

“Please don’t apologise,” she interrupted before he could go there, knowing it would send her brain into overdrive if he let even the thought of regret fester between them, “I’m glad you did. I don’t want you to be sorry about it.”

Relief washed over the both of them in a warm, steady stream as he nodded, leaning into the back of the couch, legs spreading as an elongated sigh wracked through his torso. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Poppy’s eyes flickered to the flex of his fingers, the strain of his wrist, the flash of protruding veins where his sleeve had pulled up with the stretch of his movements. 

His eyes closed, and she took him in just like she had that night in Finnegan’s bar.

She’d had an urge then, a desire even, to provide comfort - to share his burdens, make him forget the pain he had just endured, wash it all away with encouraging words, gentle touches. A shoulder to cry on, two ears to listen, and, albeit she didn’t entirely know it at the time, a whole heart that was his for the taking.

And take it, he did, held it all summer, bent it all sorts of ways out of shape up until New Years Eve, and it was still in his hands. Smushed, dented, squeezed to within an inch of his life, her heart was his.

It was up to her now to figure out what she wanted him to do with it. 

“I made a promise to my mom about the date, Nico, I have to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, seemingly resigned to the fact he had maybe been a little too lost in the moment to make such a crazy demand of her. 

“And I think maybe we both need a little time to properly think about what is happening here.”

“Time?” He practically shot up, alarm in his eyes.

“We’ve barely been apart all week, Nico, I think that might be why we’re both so,” she struggled for the right word - pent up, emotional, strung out, “Intense.”

She had known she was emotional, overthinking to the point of ruin, but maybe he was too. Maybe that’s what had led to the kiss, to the outburst of sentiment. They were both in the depths of a pressure cooker of emotions, and some space might do them good to gain a little clarity.

Maybe with a little more time to think on it, to consider what he was admitting to, have a little breathing room, and act more on something concrete than a fleeting in-the-moment feeling, he might change his mind. He deserved the opportunity to do so, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“How much time do you think you would need?”

“I’m driving up to my parent’s house on Friday, so I would have been away for most of the weekend anyway, maybe we check back in on Monday and see where our heads are at?”

“4 days,” he muttered as if he’d just counted them in his head. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” He had nodded in response, and there was something like hope that lingered between them, sharing small smiles and gazing through glassy eyes. “You’ll be so busy you won’t even get the chance to miss me.”

She believed it to be true - Nico had his family over, would be spending the latter end of the day with them, and had 2 big home games in a row to worry about. Poppy would be the last thing on his mind.

If she had blinked in the moment, she might have missed the way his observation slipped to her lips, lingered there for a brief second, and glanced back up to flicker between her eyes again. “Not possible.”

“Poppy, have you suffered some kind of brain injury I don’t know about?” Nia’s voice rings through the speaker of the phone pressed to her ear, already supposedly-styled hair fanned out around her as she lays staring at the ceiling, willing herself to get up and go before she’s late.

No matter how much she doesn’t want to go on this date, her mother will kill her if she hears anything other than a glowing review. On time, preened to perfection, polite and sociable. 

“Maybe I hit my head in my sleep at some point,” she thinks out loud, glancing back to the sharp edges of her bedside table and wondering if she could have thudded into it in the night.

Surely she would have a scar or a bruise.

“You must have,” Nia agrees, “That’s the only logical explanation why you’d ever consider telling the guy you’ve been hung up on since you first met him that you need time to think about how you feel,”

“Ni,” Poppy groans, “I called you for advice, not a lecture.”

“If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, and you my friend, are a dumbass.”

“In my defence-,”

“Nope!” Poppy doesn’t know what Nia is doing on the other end, but she hears something clatter as if being slammed down on a table in protest, “There is no defence, you’re an idiot.”

“I didn’t know how I felt about it, Ni,” Poppy sighs, sitting up and catching sight of herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know why so much of her time tonight has been wasted trying to look so good when she doesn’t even want to. When she’d gone to visit her parents, her mother had practically given her a full blown rundown of the guy she was meeting.

Tucker Lyon, she can’t help to instinctively roll her eyes at just his name, works in investment grade finance for one of the Big 4 - she hadn’t cared enough to ask which one. His family are property people, her mom had said, and own enough Manhattan real estate to hold some serious power. Priscilla had met his mother years ago at some luncheon in the city, and apparently the two had been in cahoots since then to set their children up.

Poppy doesn’t want to be set up with some walking red flag, biting her tongue over a plate of food too small to satisfy her hunger while he mansplains stocks and shares to her.

She wants to be in whatever bar the guys are holed up in, tucked under Nico’s arm, side practically glued to his, sipping cocktails and celebrating him like he deserves to be celebrated.

But instead, she can admit, she has been a royal idiot.

“I still don’t know, it’s all come at me full force and I don’t understand my feelings.”

“Bullshit!” Nia scoffs, “You knew you were into him the second he first flashed those dimples your way.”

She isn’t entirely wrong.

Poppy had once harboured a slight crush on him. In the very early stages of their friendship. One small enough that when she realised it was completely one-sided - and she was being delusional to ever think his cute nickname for her and his insistence on spending time only with her was anything more than his attempt to make a friend - she could swallow it down until it was barely anything.

She trained her heart not to stutter when he approached her, told her brain to shut up when he flashed her one of those perfect, all consuming smiles, and could cross her arms to restrain her hands from wanting to hold his whenever they walked side by side.

She’d become so good at suppressing her feelings, she’d forgotten she had them.

She had forgotten all the times they had hung out alone over the years, never second guessing all the looks and the touches, the times he’d let her stay over if it got too late to go home alone, and the times he’d waltz into hers like he owned the place.

She’d forgotten when she had seen him with Talia, always claiming the feeling in her gut was one of loss and reminiscence, not envy and bitterness.

She’d forgotten when the Hughes brothers had helped her move a couple months ago, and Luke had questioned the amount of Nico he was helping to scatter throughout her apartment. Pictures on her bookshelf, pictures stuck to her fridge with souvenir magnets from Swiss gift shops, a couple hoodies, Devils branded shorts and big t-shirts of his he’d come across in the boxes. 

“I didn’t realise you and Cap were so close,” Luke had picked a frame out of one of the boxes, the picture of Nico and Poppy at the Halloween party inside, and waved it in her direction as she stood with her hands on her hips, figuring out if she wanted to alphabetise or colour code the books she was displaying. 

“Huh?” Poppy tilted her head towards the tall boy, watching as he shook his curls back into place and ran a hand through them. He’d worked up a bit of a sweat lugging her boxes upstairs, and now that everything was finally moved, Jack had gone to get them food, and Poppy and Luke were getting started on unpacking the easy stuff. She looked to the picture in hand, reaching over and taking it to get a closer look. “I guess we were, I don’t really know.” She wasn't a good enough actress to properly pull off the nonchalance she was aiming for.

“You don’t know?” Luke scoffed, rifling through other pictures in the box - all framed, mostly of her and Nico, some just the two of them, some of them in groups, but always side by side. Always grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got like a shrine in here, PJ,”

“It’s not a shrine,” she had argued, “You don’t keep pictures of your friends? Sounds kind of cold, if you ask me, Moosey.”

“I keep pictures on instagram and my phone like a normal person.” He chuckled.

“Generational gap, you kids are done for when the cloud goes down, you know. Physical media is forever.”

“You sound like my mom.” Luke jibed, and true to his nature, unable to stop himself before he inadvertently crossed a line, he asked with a weird wiggle of his eyebrows, “So, you wanna keep Nico forever, huh?”

“Shut up, Luke.” If Poppy had something soft enough, she would have thrown it at his head. The photo frame in hand seemed like overkill, and she didn’t want to hurt the kid, just make him stop. She didn’t much like talking about him, what they once had, what they once were. Even if he did have the wrong impression of what they were. It was upsetting, and she didn’t want to get upset - not in front of Luke. “You can keep those in the box.”

Luke had reached out for the frame in Poppy’s grasp, had watched as she hesitated giving it back, as she looked down and took in the huge smiles on her and Nico’s faces, and as she made the decision not to put this one back. Maybe she could phase it out, wait until she took a nicer, more meaningful picture with someone else before she replaced that one.

“I’ll keep this one out. I look cute.”

"Sure." His sarcasm was not entirely appreciated.

She had heard him chuckle to himself as she stood the frame on one of the shelves, placing it between a scented candle she had no intention of ever lighting and a small faux lavender plant. Not shrine-like at all.

She’d forgotten about any suppressed feelings until Nico kissed her.

Until he opened up Pandora’s box, releasing all her pent up emotions to roam freely, creating chaos and causing havoc through every corner of her entire existence. 

For the past 3 days, she’s thought about him with everything she has done. 

On Thursday afternoon, sat alone in her office, going over emails and wondering what he would be up to with his family. Was he happy, were they having fun, did he think about her for a second?

On Friday evening, driving alone on the long winding roads to her parent’s house and listening to the commentary for the game on the radio. Making it to the house in time for the 3rd period, and seeing the team celebrate. Was he well rested, excited for his family to watch him play at home, did he look up into the staff suite at the Rock and wish she was there cheering him on?

On Saturday, retreating to her childhood bedroom after another tense family dinner, snuggling up with the dogs on her bed as she watched the game. Was he beating himself up, had he gone straight home on his own after the loss, did he have the same urge to call her as much as she wanted to call him?

Did he, on any of those nights, lay awake thinking about that kiss?

About how right it had felt? How he had exerted his subtle dominance over her with such ease, large hands encompassing her face and holding her to his lips like his life depended on it?

Did he think about where it could have gone if she hadn’t shut him down? Where they could be if he’d made a move before?

She’s been thinking about it. Non-stop thinking about it.

Thinking about that kiss, and the possibility of others - the moment in the bar, all the other potential moments he had wanted to kiss her and hadn’t. The fact that maybe her feelings had never been one sided, and she’s wasted years pushing them down for nothing.

“Do you think I made a mistake not cancelling this date?” She asks her friend in a moment of vulnerability, her mind reeling with the possibility that she has already fucked up what could be.

“No.” Nia assures her, surprisingly. She’s been calling her an idiot all night, what does she mean, ‘no’? “I think he needs to sweat a little, let him think about you out tonight with another guy, and come tomorrow, his mind will be made up.”

“You don’t think we might be overestimating how much it bothers him?”

“Don’t make me call you a dumbass again, Pop.” Poppy can hear the rolling of her best friend’s eyes through the phone. “And send me a picture of your outfit before you leave.”

Nico

Nico has never been so physically uncomfortable in his life.

For a man who plays contact sport for a living - has played it for a good chunk of his existence, and has suffered countless knocks and injuries, slept in one too many uncomfortable positions in planes, buses, trains and even hotel beds, and who’s face has had more than enough encounters with the wrong end of a pair of skates - that is saying a lot.

But every inch of him, every fibre of his entire being, feels irritated in some way.

It’s a feeling like unforeseen static shocks passing over every surface of his skin. Like little bugs crawling all over him and he can’t swat them away. Like random strands of fine hairs that can’t be seen by the naked eye but God, can he feel them. He feels them everywhere.

From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he feels something prickling, stinging, burning. 

Itchy.

Like a scratch he can’t reach in the very middle of his back.

And it’s not like he doesn’t know what it is.

He’s felt it ever since he left Poppy’s apartment in the early hours of Thursday morning. He had hardly slept, getting maybe 3 or 4 hours in before his alarm shrilled from where it charged on his nightstand. 

He has tried to use the same coping mechanisms that get him through his bouts of homesickness - where he closes his eyes and tries to provoke a memory for each sense.

He pictures the views from one of his many hikes, endless fields of green grass, crystal clear lakes, winding footpaths and mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see. He imagines gathering around a fondue table back in his favourite restaurant, and can smell the freshly baked bread, can taste the melt-in-the-mouth flavour once it’s been dipped in oozing, melted cheese. He can feel the softness of the freshly washed sheets back in his childhood bedroom and can hear the chorused chirps of the birds outside his window in the early mornings. 

It’s a technique that has helped ground him in the past, and he had thought that maybe if he applies the same logic, it will dull the ache in his fingertips that yearn to reach for his phone and text the girl who has asked him for space.

If he thinks hard enough, he can still taste the sweet but subtle vanilla of Poppy’s lip balm. He can smell the fresh-cotton essence of her laundry detergent, can hear the melodic sounds she had hummed into his lips, can feel the softness of her skin on the pads of his fingers, can see, clear as day, the dazed expression etched into her features like she had gotten caught up in the fantasy too.

If it wasn’t so easy for him to mentally transport himself back, he wouldn’t have been able to make it 4 days without seeing her. 

He had known it would be hard, but, thankfully, he thinks he got himself enough of a fix to make it to Monday.

He’d taken all he could with just one press of his lips to hers, had taken more of Poppy than he had ever dared to take before, and his subconscious was clinging onto it for dear life, hoping with everything in him she could decide to give him more.

4 days.

He has never known time to be so cruel. For it to drag out every minute like it was an hour.

If his life had a remote control, best believe he would be jamming the hell out of the fast forward button. 4x speed, skip to the next chapter, not wanting or needing to know what happened in the in-between.

He’s always thought himself to have patience - good things come to those who wait, after all - but this had become the ultimate test.

He had tried to immerse himself in whatever was going on each day, hoping they would pass quicker, less painfully, but it had been no use.

His birthday had passed by in a dizzying blur. He’d had a late morning skate, had come home to his family waiting for him, had gone to dinner with them, caught up over Italian food in one of his favourite spots by his apartment, and had driven his parents, his sister and her boyfriend back to their hotel with the promise of dedicating some time to them before the game on Friday.

Every single thing had reminded him of her.

Being at the Rock and wondering where in the building she might be, and if she was reminded of him with the littlest things. If she was thinking about him, what she was thinking about him. Seeing his family, imagining her place at the table as they all exchanged laughter and stories over pasta and wine. Thinking about what she might contribute to the conversation, how she would get along with his sister, how they’d gang up on him and poke fun, but she’d hold his hand under the table and squeeze to let him know it was all in good humour.

In the locker room after the win against the Blackhawks, trying his best to get involved in the celebrations but just wanting to call her, to hear that she had watched, and was proud of him and the team. And even after the loss against the Canucks, he wanted to hear the same. He wanted to go straight to her place, the passenger seat of his car painfully empty as he drove himself home in complete silence. 

And he had tried his best not to get too into his head about the whole space thing.

Poppy was right, after all. Things had gotten intense.

He had been intense - marching over to her place and kissing her out of nowhere. As right as it had felt, it was stupid. It was hotheaded and impulsive and it wasn’t considerate of her feelings.

But, God, he was so caught up on her he couldn’t help himself. He should have seen in the days they had spent together prior that they needed to speak more about everything before he threw himself at her like a neanderthal. 

He’d only considered what conclusion he had reached, and as much as his conversation with the guys on the plane gave him an idea of Poppy’s mindset, some words needed to be exchanged before he planted one straight on her. The whole thing could have gone so much better if he just knew how to communicate everything with her properly.

Even before the kiss. Before New Years, before Talia, before Summer - if he knew how to speak about his developing feelings for her, this whole mess could have been avoided.

He wouldn’t be sat alone in a bar, yet again, as his friends surround him, partaking in the celebrations that are supposed to revolve around him, wallowing in self pity.

He wouldn’t be thinking about Poppy, out in some fancy restaurant somewhere else in the city, with some stick-up-his-ass loser who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, and imagining her giving him one of those earth shattering smiles - the one where her the outside of her eyes crinkle in the corners, and every time he sees it he imagines the lines settling there as she ages, and it’s always a version of the two of them, old and grey, side by side, smiling together.

He imagines her taking him back to her apartment, curling up with him on the couch Nico helped her haul up the stairs after she had found it for crazy cheap off of some sketchy ad on Facebook marketplace. He sees her slowly replacing all those pictures she has of her and Nico with pictures of her and him, phasing him out of her space like she would eventually phase him out of his life.

He thinks about her taking him to her bedroom - the one he had yet to see in her new apartment, but imagines it’s just like her old one; way too many pillows and throws, a thick, plush duvet that looks like she’s climbing into a cloud, and a beat up stuffed toy her grandmother had given her when she was young. 

He doesn’t want to wish that Poppy is currently welcoming someone into her life that doesn’t suit her, but he can’t help himself.

He hopes this guy is late - and doesn’t even apologise for it. He hopes he orders off the menu for her, or criticises her choice of wine for not pairing with her choice of food like a complete snob. He hopes he’s awful to wait-staff. He hopes he’s type of guy who writes a suggestion on the tip line of his receipt instead of leaving a minimum of 20%. He hopes he chews with his mouth open, spits when he talks and scrapes his knife along the ceramic of his plate as he cuts his food, causing that toe curling sound that makes Poppy want to scream.

He hopes he doesn’t offer her his jacket, because she always refuses to take one out. He hopes he doesn’t think to give her a piggy back, because she always wears shoes out she knows she doesn’t want to walk in, but always wants to walk home if it’s nice out. He hopes he walks on the inside of the sidewalk, leaving her to the dangers of walking roadside, and walks too quick for her to keep up with little regard for how she likes to take her time on a night and stretch the evening out. 

He even hopes he smokes. Poppy hates smokers. And if, God forbid, they kiss, he’ll have smoker’s breath, and she won’t want to do it again. 

She won’t stand in front of him, eyes glazed over, lashes fluttering, brows furrowing, lips still pouting and fingers twitching to reach back out, yearning for more.

She won’t even kiss him back.

Not like she had kissed Nico. Not like she had clutched at his shirt like she wanted to hold him close to her forever. He wouldn’t get to hear that sweet, subdued sound she had made when his tongue had swiped tentatively at hers, or feel that slight pressure of when her lips had closed around it, sucking almost at the muscle before opening back up to allow for more of a taste.

No one else can get that.

No one else will savour it like Nico has, thinking about is for days on end, replaying the moment over and over until he has perfect recall of every small detail.

It’s probably a good thing she hasn’t shared much detail about this date, Nico thinks as he swirls the ice around his empty drink, sat right at the bar away from the sectioned-off area that Timo had rented out for the party.

If he knew more about it - about the who, about the where - he probably would be in a cab by now, knowing he was crossing a line but unable to do anything about it, his will outweighing any common courtesy just as it had a few nights ago. Or he would have spent the last few days in a google deep-dive, trying to figure out the kind of man her mother would approve of. Enough to set her up, at least - he doubts Priscilla Jensen entirely approves of anyone.

Nico finally makes eye contact with the bartender, and as she starts to make her way over, he feels like a divine intervention occurs - an arm falling onto the bar top beside his, a glimmer of metal flashing into his dark eyes - the reflection bouncing from a bracelet that is welded around the base of a slender hand.

“I’ll take another of these,” he lifts his glass when the bartender arrives, gesturing to the old fashioned he’d somehow landed on over beer tonight, “And whatever she’s having, please.”

 “Vodka diet coke, please,” a voice rings out from beside him, and once the bartender busies herself with the order, she asks, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting you a drink? I heard it’s your birthday,”

“Why should either of us pay when it’s going on a tab?” He chuckles, angling his body better to face her. 

“Ooh la-la, a tab,” Nia mocks, “Now I feel like I’m a part of an elite club!”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never had your drinks put on someone else’s tab before.”

“Not the New Jersey Devils captain himself, it’s such an honour!” She raises a manicured hand and presses it to her chest, a playful smile etched into her features. 

“Did you come over here just to poke fun at me?” Nico asks, touching on the dynamic that has long been between the two of them. She mocks him, mostly all bark and no bite, he takes it on the chest, knowing she’s doing it from of her warped version of almost sibling-like love, and Poppy usually acts as the mostly-unnecessary mediator, dividing her attention between them both. 

“Of course I did,” she affirms, “You looked all mopey and miserable, how could I not?”

“How is me waiting for a drink ‘mopey’?”

“Uh, let me think,” she taps her finger to her chin, before lifting it to point at each feature she references, “The huge pout on your lips, your giant caterpillar eyebrows all slanted and frowny-,”

“Forget I asked,” he mutters, lifting his lips into a quick smile and thanking the girl behind the bar as she brings them their drinks. “Didn’t know you’d be out tonight,”

“I’ll be sure to send you an e-vite to my google calendar when I get home later.”

Nico’s throat tightens slightly at how similar Nia and Poppy are - always quick with a response, most of the time sarcastic, most of the time able to elicit a genuine laugh to rumble from the depths of his chest. “I see why you and Poppy are so close.”

“Hm,” she hums, making a show of checking her phone, “You barely made it two minutes, but it could be a new record.”

“A new record?”

“For how long you can go in conversation without mentioning her.”

“She’s your best friend, the one person we have in common, it’s normal for me to bring her up, Nia.” He reaches for his drink to take a gulp, hoping the ice might make his throat feel a little better.

He doesn’t even know why he’s denying his lack of willpower when it comes to Poppy - 2 minutes actually seems like quite the achievement when he thinks about how long he’s restrained himself from reaching out over the past 4 days. Nia approaching him like this has been the perfect excuse to think about her - to talk about her without feeling like he’s overstepping or assuming.

He could use this to his advantage.

“Is she a good kisser?”

Or not.

He chokes on his drink, thankful the liquid isn’t coming out of his nose with how much he hadn’t been expecting that question.

“She looks like she would be. I’ve always thought about it but there’s never been a right time to try it out. Maybe I should take a leaf outta your book and lay it on thick and fast when she least expects it.”

How he even thought he could gain advantage in this conversation is beyond belief. He’s out of his depth with Nia, as usual. She isn’t afraid to call him out - she never has been - and she’s the one person in the world Poppy would confide in. Of course she knows about the kiss.

“Is that what she said, I laid it on thick and fast,”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy.” She chuckles, picking up her cocktail and stepping away from him, “Thanks for the drink, Nico, try to enjoy the rest of your birthday party.”

“Wait!” He reaches out to stop her, not wanting to let a golden opportunity slip from his hands so easily. “You would have bought me a drink before, for my birthday?”

“I think you earn about 5 times my annual salary in a month, so probably not.”

“How about you answer a question for me?” He proposes, “As a gift.”

“I could,” she sighs, sitting down in the stool beside him, “But I heard you get touchy after gifts.”

He immediately regrets asking, but not enough to let her go. He’s come this far, and he has 4 days worth of questions he desperately needs answers to.

“Funny,” he gives a condescending smile, which clearly pleases her as she gives a genuine one back, lifting her spare hand to gesture for him to carry on. As if it’s that easy to narrow down all the things he wants to ask her.

One question. 

What did she say about the kiss? Did she like it? Would she do it again?

What did she say about him? About how she feels? About what she wants?

Where is she right now? What did she tell Nia about the date? About the who?

“The guy she’s out with,” he can’t even bring himself to say the D word, “Is he nice?”

The look she gives him is almost pitiful. In fact, there is no almost about it. She clearly thinks he’s pathetic, but it’s too late to retract the question now that it’s out there.

“I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t like the way his stomach turns at her answer.

He had wanted this, right? For him to be a gratuity-withholding, uncouth slob with bad breath. 

But the thought of her being out with someone that has the potential to hurt her, hurts him. His chest feels tight, his head feels muddled, and that everlasting itch returns to the tips of his fingers - the weight of his cellphone becoming that much heavier in his back pocket.

“I mean,” she carries on with a shrug and reaches for her own phone, “He was a no-show, so we’ll never actually know for sure.” She swipes at her phone until she brings up her message thread with Poppy, turning up the brightness to show Nico the picture she had asked her to send earlier. 

It’s a selfie taken in the overly tall mirror she had once made him pick up from Ikea, claiming it wouldn’t fit in her car and his was much bigger, and he doesn’t know why his first instinct is to scan the background just to confirm his earlier intuitions about her bedroom. Too many pillows, cloud-like duvet. He can’t see the stuffed toy, but he assumes it’s somewhere in there.

Poppy looks unbelievable. 

Her dress is short, like the one she had worn on New Years, fits snug around her waist and emphasises her curves in all the best ways. Her legs seem to go on for miles, adorned in knee high boots no doubt to provide some semblance of warmth. Her hair is pulled back, and she wears gold jewellery - rings, some small hoop earrings, and he’s only just able to stop his fingers reaching out to pinch at the screen because he can see the gemstone bracelet without the need to zoom in.

“Can’t be that nice if you’re standing up a girl that gorgeous, huh?” Nia asks, suggestively, leaning her chin into the palm of her spare hand as she looks up at Nico. “Some guys just don’t know how good they’ve got it.”

He figures he actually should be embarrassed about the relief that floods through him - washes over his entire demeanour, expression changing from defeated to victorious in a matter of mere seconds.

The crease that seems to have permanently formed between his brows smooths out, posture corrects itself, and his lips even almost turn up into a smile.

There’s a childish, territorial voice within him that wants to exclaim, Thank God! But he’s grateful that he’s able to mute it.

And, despite being privy to Nia’s games - despite knowing exactly what trap he is being lured into, what he’s about to fall for - he can’t help but suggest, “You should tell her to come out.” Because, despite knowing he had taken the bait, he can’t find it within himself to care. “I think I asked her one too many times to ask again.”

The one thing he had twisted himself into knots over since first hearing her utter the word date, hadn’t actually come to fruition.

There is no date. There is no uncouth slob.

There is Poppy, dressed as pretty as she is, practically waiting for someone to show her a good time. 

He can do that. He wants to do it - to be the someone that’s good to her.

“Oh, should I?” Nia asks, a knowing smirk causing her lips to twitch mischievously. She’s been playing him this whole time, and once again, he doesn’t care. “I don’t know, she seems resigned to spending the evening on her couch watching New Girl,” she sighs dramatically, clearly looking for incentive - once again, reminding him too much of the girl he longs for. “I don’t know if there’s much convincing to be done.”

“I’ll add you to the tab for the night.”

Rookie mistake, offering something up so quick.

“Is that all my efforts are worth to you, Nico, a few measly drinks?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m actually out with a client tonight,” she looks back somewhere toward the other side of the bar, Nico can’t even bring himself to follow her gaze. “Been trying to sign them to my agency for a while, and if I can fix this deal, I’m up for a promotion.”

“Nia,” he warns, not liking how long this story is becoming. Forget good things come to those who wait. He’s waited long enough. “What do you want?”

“They’re big Devils fans, I think a night with the team could really open them up to the benefits of working with me.”

“Bring them into our section.”

“And maybe some tickets, too.”

“Fine.”

Nia gives him a triumphant smile, “Great, I’ll let them know.” She salutes him as she stands back up, gathering her drink and phone between the fingers of one hand before backing away. “Nice doing business with you, Captain.”

“Aren’t you gonna text her?”

“Oh, Nico,” she jeers, using her free hand to grasp him by the chin. “Dear, sweet, naive Nico,” she gives his head a subtle shake before patting at his shoulder condescendingly, “She’s already on her way.”

If anyone asks, Nico isn’t admitting to keeping an eye on the door since Nia had made her way back over to her side of the bar, but he knows as soon as Poppy has arrived. He watches her make her way over to her friend, watches the two of them embrace and talk between themselves for a good minute. He watches and waits until her eyes meet his from across the crowded room, and it’s like everything else stops.

He’d somehow managed to immerse himself in the party spirit since he had found out she was coming, fitting back into the group, toasting along with them, engaging in conversations with his teammates, his mood vastly improved in comparison to earlier in the night - of which he’s sure Timo is relieved after his short-lived exile from Nico’s good graces — but everything fades to black when he sees her lips curve upwards from afar.

Someone is talking beside him - hopefully not to him, he thinks, he doesn’t remember being mid-discussion with anyone - but it’s just drowned out mumbling right now, and all he can do is tilt his head toward the doors that lead to the bathrooms, and wait for her to respond. When she nods and separates herself from Nia, he excuses himself from the group, edging out of their section and following her path, losing her a little in the thick crowd of people - the bar still packed from where they had played the Giants game earlier.

When he gets through the doors, he’s thankful no one else is lingering back there - no rowdy queue for the bathroom, no staff, no one but him and the girl who seems to be holding his heart like a hot potato, not knowing the best way to carry it without getting burned.

“Hi.” It’s a weak starter for a heavy conversation, but if he’s honest with himself, she’s taken his breath away.

The picture from before hadn’t done her justice. She’s a little worn into her look for the evening now, hair not so neat, skin a little shiny, lipstick faded - but this is exactly how he likes her, especially when he takes in the way her eyes gleam and her cheeks puff out with her smile.

He makes a conscious effort not to let his eyes drift directly to the smile - to her lips, which even the thought of them elicits such a vivid memory.

“Surprise!” she sings quietly, arms outstretched and hands shaking theatrically.

He steps toward her with his hands behind his back, fingers clasped together until he’s confident that his knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to curl his arm around her waist and pull her into him, needing to be closer. He watches intently as her eyes flick down to where his hands should be.

She backs into the wall behind her, not to escape his approach, but more to prepare herself for it - like she’s settling in and embracing it.

She isn’t running. She isn’t pushing.

She’s waiting.

“I’ve missed you.” Nico wastes no time in telling her the truth - telling her what she’s refused to believe every other time he’s said it, but he can tell with the tilting of her head and the rounding of her eyes that understanding has settled within her. She has no comeback, no it’s only been a few days, and he thinks she must have felt the drag of them in the same way.

“I’ve missed you, too.” 

Whatever anxiety has rooted itself deep inside him for the past 4 days dissipates almost immediately. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He admits, without shame or reluctance. After Poppy had helped him overcome whatever had been censoring him before, there is no point now in holding back or beating around the bush. “You look so good, Mohn.”

A rush of confidence allows for him to close the gap, standing right before her as she leans against the wall, neck craning ever so slightly to look up at him. He still won’t touch, hands laying against the stone at either side of her hips, not daring yet to let even a sliver of his finger graze at her flesh.

“You look good, too.” She breathes, eyes glancing down to do an appreciative once over of his outfit, and he doesn’t miss the glint of pride cross through her eyes when she catches the glimpse of the gold that peaks out from the neck of his sweatshirt. 

“I’m sorry about your date.”

“Are you?” Her lips twist into a knowing smile. It’s an example of one of her many traits that he loves - she can detect his bullshit a mile off.

“Mmhm,” he nods, “I’m sorry a world exists where any man is stupid enough to stand you up, Poppy.”

“I’m the stupid one,” she argues, and he misses her gaze as soon as she takes it away, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment. “I should have listened to you and cancelled in the first place.”

“I was stupid to ask that.”

“Maybe we’re both stupid.”

“Definitely.” He probably shouldn’t be agreeing to her calling herself stupid, but it comes out before he can think too much on it. They’ve both wasted too much time. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” She asks, and a slight movement between them catches his eye, her fingers twisting together as if she’s withholding her touch, too.

“It’s better now.” He smiles fondly as she rolls her eyes. 

“How are your family?”

“They’re good.” He doesn’t want to go into too much detail about how shamefully miserable he has been over the past few days - doesn’t want to tell her how his mom had called him out on his lack of contribution to conversations, and he’d managed to pin it on the stress of the season. She still raises a brow at his insufficient answer, and he expands before she can tell him off. “Everyone but Luca made it out, my sister had to go back already for work, but my parents booked a trip to Halifax to visit the Phillips’, I lived with them when I played up there, they have a few friends to visit in Canada but they’ll drop back to see me again before they fly home.”

He feels the tickle of soft fingertips at the inside of his arm, slowly grazing down as he speaks, and as he watches Poppy, he thinks she must not realise she’s doing it - letting intuition take over as she’s distracted by the conversation. He lets her take the lead on initiating any touching, and it takes all the restraint he has left not to barge through the door she’s attempting to slowly eke open. She’s the only person in the world who could make him audibly hear the metaphorical creaking.

“Did they get to watch you win?”

He doesn’t even know why he finds himself grinning at the question, but the tone in which she asks it bears a hint of pride. She had watched the game on Friday.

“My dad was pretty much in the stands in full gear, everything but the pads and skates, and my mom was repping Foundation merch, she’s run off across the border with my beanie.” He likes the way her face lights up.

“I’ll get you another.” She raises her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, and, for once, he’s thankful not to be wearing any sort of hat. The soft scratch of her nails is soothing, and he just about manages to stop himself leaning into her touch and purring like a cat.

That would be embarrassing.

He feels outnumbered, both of her hands on him, and it feels unfair not to be touching her - so when his thumb extends itself on the wall just beside her hip and strokes at the soft fabric of her dress until it’s softly digging in, he watches intently for any hesitation before he lays a palm flat against her side.

It feels like things are progressing both torturously slow and overwhelmingly fast at the same time. His heart feels like it’s slamming into either side of his ribcage, and like nothing else occupies his chest, the sound of it echoing as if banging on the walls of a deep, empty cavern.

“Did I already tell you how much I missed you?” He honestly can’t remember, but he’ll tell her again if he needs to.

The hand that had run through his hair rests now on the side of his head, her thumb swiping softly at his cheek as she cups the side of his face, and before he can even make sense of what is happening, he’s being pulled forward. 

He bends to her advances with quick reflexes to avoid clashing, and their noses bump just before their lips meet.

Her chest rolls forward until it presses into his, and both his hands grab at her sides to pull her flush against him, legs tangling, hips pushing together, bodies touching everywhere possible all the way up to their mouths. 

He gives her all the control otherwise, allows her to determine the pace, responding to her every move and every touch with fervour and heat. She pulls at him, one hand grasping at his sweatshirt and the other cradling the side of his neck, and he quickly lifts one to stifle the blow to her head as she collides back with the wall, barely noticing the pain where his knuckles meet the stone.

Their tongues press together at the same time, and Nico doesn’t even realise his lack of patience got the better of him until their battle for dominance kicks off between their lips.

He can taste the same vanilla lip balm, can smell her signature coconut scent, can hear soft, subtle moans, can only see the back of his eyelids, not daring to open them, just wanting to feel. And he can feel everything. 

He feels the softness of her hair beneath the hand that is protecting her head from the discomfort of resting against the hard surface behind her, can feel the skirt of her dress bunching up in his grip, can feel her touch, fingertips dancing at the the base of his skull, thumb pressing into his jaw, her other hand making that same grabby gesture at the thick fabric covering his torso, squished between his heart and her chest, and he thinks he can feel the thump of her own heart on the other side.

He can feel her thigh pressed between his, the friction causing a heat to build deep in the pit of his stomach, swirling and whirling down, down, down until it culminates into the hard press of his hips into hers, and a rushed gasp combined with a guttural groan causes their lips to part.

They take deep breaths in unison, their chests bumping with every inhale, and he tries otherwise not to move.

He opens his eyes to find hers still closed, scrunched shut, even, and he tries not to be selfish - ignores the need to get a good look at her, to have this version of her ingrained to his memory too - and attempts to coax her back to him.

“Poppy,” he sounds just about as breathless as he feels. “Are you good?”

She hums in response, a subtle nod given, but he needs to hear her say it, and he tells her as much with a quick squeeze to her hip. Her eyes flutter open, gleaming and bright, framed by thick lashes and crinkling slightly at the outer corners as her lips turn up into a mischievous grin. “Better now.”

His chest feels like it’s about to burst open, like there’s a bear within him that is going to break out and pull her into its clutches, dragging her back safe to her home in his heart.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, because he has to - he doesn’t care if it’s rude to leave his own birthday party, doesn’t care that he’s been the most ungrateful person in the world all night.

He’ll make it up to Timo, get him something big the next birthday of his that rolls around. Throw him a party. Or he’ll take care of the tab the next time they’re out. Maybe even let him have the window seat the next time they’re on the same plane home. 

Except, he won’t be doing any of that. He’ll be taking the reins on booking flights and putting Timo straight into economy, smack-bang in the middle of a row surrounded by a family of 5, screaming kids, arguing parents, the back of his seat being kicked the whole 8 hours to Zurich.

Because, just as Poppy’s swollen lips part to accept his advances - as her chin lifts, about to drop with a big affirmative nod, and he’s about to get everything he’s wanted the past 4 days and beyond - the doors to the back swing open, and his 6 foot teammate stumbles through, arms outstretched as he notices the two of them practically intertwined.

“Here you are!” He exclaims, voice booming in comparison to the soft breathy tones he and Poppy had been previously speaking in. “Poppy, you made it!”

“Hi Timo,” Nico feels her retreat, feels her legs brush past his and back to her own space, her hand on his chest now the only part of her that touches him, and he follows her lead, taking his hands back and trying not to clench his jaw or his fists as she converses with the man who was once his friend. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, should be back on the ice in a couple weeks.” Timo had suffered an injury in one of their games at the back end of December, and hasn’t been fit to travel, and Nico finds an unspeakably bitter part of himself wishing it was something to do with Timo’s legs that were injured so he couldn’t have interrupted their moment. “Glad you’re here, this one has been miserable all night.”

He can’t be this oblivious, Nico thinks. Why is he still here? Why isn’t he retreating back to the bar and leaving the two of them to whatever he had clearly barged in on.

And when Nico looks back to his teammate, his long time friend, he sees the oh-so-evident glint of mischief and disobedience in his grey-blue eyes.

He is getting his own back.

Nico knows he was petulant to blame Timo for Poppy not being invited, knows there was nothing he could have done to change her going out on a date, or them not speaking for months while he was with Talia.

He doesn’t need him to enact his revenge to see he was wrong to ignore his texts, or to mope around at the party he had put so much effort into. 

He tries to give him a pleading look to stop whatever he is trying to do, but it’s no use.

“The guys will want to see you, Poppy, Jack’s beating himself up about his shoulder, could use a friendly face.”

“Oh,” Poppy casts a glance back to Nico, and he gives her a nod, implying that she go see to her friend. “I’ll go find him.” 

He can wait. He’s waited 4 days. He’s waited years, in fact.

And, after that kiss, he knows he won’t have to wait much longer. 

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nico mutters in their shared native language once he’s watched Poppy disappear through the doors to the bar, with a quick glance back and an apologetic smile before they closed. 

“Just saving my brooding captain from being arrested for public indecency,” Timo shrugs with a shit-eating grin as he passes Nico and heads toward the bathrooms further down the hall. “You’re welcome!” He calls back in English, raising his hands and giving a patronising thumbs up.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face and wishing it was Poppy’s in its place.

It’s just an hour, maybe two, in the presence of his friends. Drinks, music, everyone in a good mood for the most part. It’s hardly like he’s walking out into a press conference after a 5 game losing streak and about to have all the blame placed upon his shoulders. 

It’s a party. 

Poppy’s here.

He can do this.

He can wait.

Next Chapter

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw or if I forgot you I'm a muppet tbh)

[kandicon]

*writes the same exact headcannons in slightly different scenarios over and over again*

[yamsgarden]

Just some more Still Wakes the Deep blah blah, but omg having just been diagnosed Diabetes type 1 myself recently, it makes me only love and feel for Roy 10X more...

This shit is litteraly poison, but so does the food we eat with how much sugar there is in ugh OTL

Never thought in a million year I had DT1, I had 0 symptoms and am in pretty good shape, but then suddenly, organs are starting to hurt really badly out of nowhere...

Don't wait too long poeple and check with your doctors even if there's ''nothing'' T0T and to all Diabetic ppl out there, keep on fighting 💪✨

[earl-grey-crow]

.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

(first sentence meme)

Now he wasn't saying the place was haunted, but he definitely wasn't not saying it, either.

(fandom and character/au of choice!)

(y'know it's been a minute since i did anything msa... and per usual i'm absolute dogshit at sticking to that sentence limit. honestly i forgot it even existed this time) (src - still open!)

It wasn't just the age—though it was old—but old places weren't inherently haunted, in Arthur's opinion. Sure, every place tended to acquire a sort of... flavor, over time, as they were lived in, but sometimes that vibe was calm. Peaceful.

This place was—not. It was not that, even if Vivi apparently couldn't feel it. It had an almost oppressive air of anger to it, low and simmering, like the old walls were glaring daggers down at them. And it felt... there was this nagging in the back of his head, like something he was forgetting that he should have remembered. Something important about this place. That meant something.

Per usual, though, his vocal complaints were being ignored—until they came to a bigger room. It might have been some kind of theater, once, or a performance hall, or—

Any speculation was cut short when the centerpiece of the room—sparked, immediately making everything else a distantly secondary concern. That feeling of hatred spiked with it, too, sending his heart rate instantly through the roof—and seriously, if Vivi thought he was still making shit up now—

"You've got a lot of nerve, K," a voice echoed around the vast room, "waltzing back in here like nothing's wrong."

The fire—the fire that radiated an entire spectrum of warm colors, edging into a magenta that couldn't be anything natural—coalesced into a form that was starting to look almost—human.

"Your expression says you maybe haven't remembered me yet," it—he says. "That's fine."

He waves one hand, and a whip of fire whirls around the edge of the room, making doors that definitely weren't there before all slam in an almost rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk.

A pair of neon-white eyes glare like they're trying to burn holes through his skull. It feels almost like they're succeeding.

"I'm more than happy to help remind you."

[garlicbrede]

time should stop fucking timing :(