#maybe he can hear too much when it's too quiet

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part two

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Theo has been taking his role of helping reader get over Mattheo very seriously.

Word Count: 4842

Warnings: Unrequited love & Veronica isn't the kindest. Let me know if there's more; I probably forgot something.

A/N 💌 Thank you for your patience with me on this part; I know it took a while! As always, thank you to @moonpascal for reading and sharing your thoughts/ideas with me! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

It’s well past midnight when a knock echoes at your door. You sigh, adjusting your shorts as you reluctantly crawl off your bed, leaving your notes sprawled across the covers. As you swing the door open, you find Theo standing there, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet yours. A hesitant smile plays on his lips, as if he’s unsure whether he’s welcome at this late hour.

“Hi.” You greet him with a mix of confusion and warmth, offering a sweet smile. You pull the door open wider, and Theo’s gaze briefly flickers over your tiny sleep shorts and oversized shirt before he meets your eyes again.

“Pansy’s at our dorm.” He says, his voice soft.

You let out a quiet laugh, “I know that.”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I just thought... maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised, your lips parting as you glance over your shoulder into your room. Theo’s heart races, a wave of panic surging through him as he mentally scolds himself for not holding back. Offering to stay the night with you felt impulsive, but the moment he saw Pansy enter his dorm, his thoughts had gone straight to you.

“Shit,” Theo shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I just—when I saw Pansy, I couldn’t help but think you might need someone tonight. But if you’d rather be alone, I can go.”

After you asked Theo to help you get over Mattheo, you wondered if it had been too much to ask of him. But to your surprise, you’ve spent nearly every day of the past three weeks with Theo. You knew he had his own worries—between school, Quidditch, and the pressure from his father. But the morning after you asked for his help, he was there. 

You never expected him to put so much effort into helping you move on from Mattheo, but you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“No,” you quickly respond, a smile spreading across your face as you reach out and grasp his hand, gently tugging him inside. “I’m glad you came.”

Theo visibly relaxes at your touch, allowing you to gently pull him into the room. As the door clicks shut behind him, sealing out the quiet corridor, his initial hesitation melts away. He takes in the familiar surroundings of your room, which, despite being a bit messier than usual, feels even more comforting in the warm, dim light with you.

He swallows his disappointment as you release his hand to clear your bed of scattered notes. Standing there awkwardly, he tries to keep his gaze focused, making an effort not to let his eyes drift down your legs as you lean over to pick up the last piece of parchment.

After you place everything neatly on your desk, you turn to face him, leaning casually against the edge with a soft smile. “Are you okay with sharing my bed again?” you ask, your voice light but sincere. “Or if you’d prefer, I can sleep in Pansy’s bed so you’ll have more room.”

Theo bites his tongue, fighting to keep his voice steady and avoid sounding overeager. He doesn’t want more room; what he wants is to wake up with you pressed close against him, just as he did weeks ago. This time, though, he’s determined to stay and enjoy the feeling of you in his arms.

He clears his throat, “Your bed is fine.”

“I was actually about to head to bed before you knocked, but I can stay up if you wanted to do something.” You offer, your voice gentle and inviting.

Theo shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “Thanks, but I’m pretty wiped out from practice today.” He admits, and you can hear the exhaustion seeping through his words.

“You should’ve gone to bed at your dorm, you would’ve been asleep sooner.” You say with a slight frown as you notice just how tired he looks from the day.

“No,” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing you were here alone.”

If your heart could have melted, it would have done so right then.

Theo's eyes hold yours for a moment longer before he glances away, almost as if he's embarrassed by his own admission. You press your lips together, trying to hide the giddy smile threatening to break through. The idea that he cared that much for you made your insides flutter, warmth spreading through your chest.

Pushing away from the desk, you walk over to your bed and pull back the covers. Theo watches as you crawl in, adjusting the pillows with practiced ease before looking back at him. The unspoken question hangs in the air—are you going to join me?

He hesitates, slowly dropping his bag at the foot of your bed before moving closer to the edge. He’s slept in a bed with a girl before, but this feels wildly different. You make him nervous, and he has no idea how to hide it when he’s this close to you.

You settle into the covers, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight as you shift, and watch as Theo does the same, kicking off his shoes and slipping under the covers beside you.

Once the lights are off, silence settles between you, thick and unspoken. The only sound in the room is the soft rustling of sheets as Theo shifts beside you. You lie on your side, trying to make out his form in the darkness as your eyes slowly adjust. You can tell he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me the past couple weeks.” You say softly, and Theo turns his head to look at you.

“Yeah?”

You hum, reaching out your fingers to brush against his hand, and he takes it without hesitation, his grip warm and reassuring, “Yeah.”

It’s become a habit in the last couple of weeks—intertwining his fingers with yours. He would grab your hand every time he noticed your discomfort around Mattheo and Veronica. And at some point, you just started reaching for his hand yourself. You liked the warmth of his palm against yours and the way he’d brush his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You know I don’t mind, right? Spending all this time with you has been nice. We never really hung out much, just us two.” He says softly.

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, I know. It’s been nice for me too,” you admit, your eyes meeting his in the dark. You both fall into silence, and it doesn’t take long before you drift off to sleep, your hand still clasped in his.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Panic hits as you suddenly realize the time—you’re running late. By now, you should already be at breakfast.

“Theo,” you whisper urgently, trying to shift out of his hold. The sheets are tangled around your legs, your back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms are locked around your waist, holding you close, and he’s not loosening his grip. His body is warm against yours, and even as you try to move, his grip tightens slightly, like he’s not ready to let go just yet. “Theo.”

“Dolcezza,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and you freeze at the sound of that deeper, morning rasp. “Quit moving.” His grip tightens just enough to keep you still, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

“We have to get up,” you huff, trying to slip out of his arms, but Theo just pulls you back against him, his hold firm. “We’re late.”

“We’ll just skip.” He mutters, his voice still low and groggy. The idea is tempting—staying wrapped in his warmth instead of braving the cold corridors—but you sigh inwardly, knowing better.

You’d grown used to Theo’s small gestures of affection over the past few weeks, and you’d been just as affectionate in return. But waking up tangled in his arms like this felt different—more intimate. You were certain that once Theo fully woke up, he’d be a little sheepish about how closely he was holding you now.

“We really can’t,” you sigh, trying once more. “We need to get going—” Theo grumbles in response, finally loosening his grip and releasing you. A triumphant smile tugs at your lips as you slip out of bed, quickly heading to get ready. You race through brushing your teeth and pull on your uniform, skipping any attempt at fixing your hair in the rush. By the time you step out of the bathroom, Theo is standing by the bed, just finishing the last button on his shirt, looking just as disheveled as you feel.

You hurry Theo out of your room as he finishes brushing his teeth, and he complies, adjusting his tie as you both sprint toward the Great Hall. Just before entering the bustling breakfast scene, you grab Theo by the arm, pausing to smooth down his disheveled hair. 

“Is it a mess?” He asks, watching you closely as you stand on your toes to thread your fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

“Just a bit,” you smile, stepping back on your heels and giving his hair a final nod of approval. “How’s mine?”

“Pretty,” Theo responds immediately, his gaze lingering. “I’ve never seen your hair like this before.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile at his compliment. You had let your hair fall naturally, and his reaction makes you feel unexpectedly warm.

You mumble a shy “thank you” before leading the way into the Great Hall, Theo trailing close behind. His cheeks are still tinged pink from the way your fingers had grazed through his hair, and he’s quietly grateful you haven’t seemed to notice. However, his relief is short-lived when he catches Draco’s eye, who immediately notices the pink tint and raises an eyebrow in amused surprise.

As you make your way to the table, Draco leans back in his seat with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds gracing us with their presence.”

“Fuck off.” Theo grumbles under his breath as he lets you slide into your new seat before settling in beside you. Ever since your usual spot had been taken, you’d claimed the one next to Theo, and not just in the Great Hall. You found yourself gravitating toward him in class, the common room—anywhere you could. It had become a quiet, unspoken habit, one that neither of you seemed keen on breaking.

“I should’ve figured that’s where you disappeared to last night,” Enzo says with a knowing smirk. “You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, haven’t you?”

You really had. Theo had taken to meeting you outside your last class of the day, content to walk around the castle or lake just so you could avoid witnessing Mattheo and Veronica together. You had learned he was the perfect study partner—far more patient than Mattheo, who would get restless after twenty minutes and start pleading for a break. He seemed to remember every little detail you shared, from how you took your tea to the smallest quirks about yourself.

He’d been so attentive to you that you overheard some girls in the year below talking about how Theo Nott was no longer single.

Theo gives him a flat, unimpressed glare, clearly not in the mood for Enzo's comments, “Yet again, fuck off.”

“Well, have you two got anything to tell us?” Blaise presses, a smug grin tugging at his lips. Theo looks up from serving himself breakfast, shooting Blaise a sharp, warning glance. He could handle the teasing from the boys himself, but he didn't want you to be caught in the crossfire, especially if it made you uncomfortable.

“No.” Theo replies flatly, his gaze flicking to you. You return it with an amused, yet sympathetic smile. Unconsciously, a soft, faint smile tugs at his lips, a detail the boys are quick to notice.

“Are you sure? Because—” Blaise starts but is quickly interrupted.

“I think you two would be perfect together,” Veronica cuts in, her voice dripping with an overly sweet tone as she flashes a saccharine smile. “Don’t you think so, Matty?” she adds, glancing over at Mattheo with a raised eyebrow.

Your eyes meet Mattheo’s for a fleeting moment, and he holds your gaze. You barely registered them, so absorbed in the boys' teasing of you and Theo. For just a moment, there's something unreadable in his gaze—something that makes your heart falter—but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his gaze shifting between you and Theo while Veronica cozies up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You two would be.”

A knot tightens in your stomach, and your appetite evaporates. The lightness you’d felt just moments before vanishes, replaced by a heavy weight. Even though you knew Mattheo didn’t have feelings for you, hearing him so openly agree with the idea of you with Theo stings more than you expected.

As long as you’d known him, Mattheo had never been in a serious relationship, let alone had a girlfriend. Now that he was with Veronica, it was painfully clear that you were never truly an option for him. If you had been, he would have made a move. You had dropped hints for years, and his playful flirting had always kept your hopes alive.

But maybe that’s all your relationship was ever meant to be—a friendship with a hint of flirtation. If that’s the case, you needed to move on. Fixating on a guy who now had a girlfriend was a losing battle. If you weren’t careful, you might risk losing the friendship you valued so much.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts, pushing the food around on your plate, that you don’t even hear the chatter of your friends going on around you. It isn’t until Enzo tosses a grape at you that you glance up, “Are you coming tonight?”

You immediately know he’s referring to the Quidditch match. You’d missed the last game, which had surprised everyone, but given your recent mood, it hadn’t been unexpected.

You nod. “I planned on it.”

“Good,” Pansy interjects matter-of-factly. “I missed having you there.” You offer her a smile, but it falters when you see Veronica nudge Mattheo. He clears his throat and turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“Speaking of the game,” Mattheo starts, his voice slicing through the breakfast chatter. “I need my jersey back.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, and it takes you a moment to find your voice, “I don’t understand—”

“My jersey,” Mattheo repeats, his gaze steady as he watches you. “I need it for tonight.”

“Did something happen to yours?” You ask, caught off guard. You’d always kept one of his jerseys while he kept the other. It had become a sort of tradition between you.

Mattheo hesitates momentarily, a flicker of something like regret crossing his features. “No, it’s just... I need it back now.”

“Oh.” You say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Veronica’s eyes dart between the two of you, her brow knitting in irritation as she takes in the way Mattheo’s gaze lingers on you.

Theo’s eyes watch you with careful intensity. And when he catches the fleeting hurt in your expression, he reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours beneath the table, his touch reminding you that he’s there if you need him. You squeeze his hand back immediately.

“I’m wearing it,” Veronica interjects, her tone harsh. “I’m his girlfriend. It would be a bit strange if you kept wearing it.”

Your friends exchange glances, their confusion palpable as they watch Mattheo allow Veronica to speak to you with such disdain. They’ve seen him start fights over someone supposedly speaking badly of you, so this new passivity is surprising. Enzo’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he mouths a quick ‘what the hell’ to Draco, whose puzzled expression mirrors his own.

When you remain silent, Veronica sighs impatiently, “Did you hear me—”

“Yeah, I get it,” you snap, your frustration evident. You turn your gaze back to Mattheo. “I’ll give it to you later.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You spent all your classes obsessing over returning Mattheo’s jersey, and no matter how hard you tried, it was getting under your skin. It wasn’t just any jersey—it was the one Mattheo had given you, the one you’d worn countless times. His new relationship with Veronica had stung, but this felt even worse. Maybe it was because taking back the jersey felt like a tangible sign that Mattheo was serious about Veronica, and it drove home the reality of how much things had changed.

Logically, you understood why it was reasonable. Having another girl wear your boyfriend’s jersey would be uncomfortable, and if the roles were reversed, you’d feel the same way. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You couldn’t stand Veronica, and the thought of giving up something that meant so much to you—both the jersey and Mattheo—was unbearable.

As you walked back to your dorm, you considered skipping the match entirely. However, you and Pansy had made plans to sit together, and you’d also promised Mattheo you’d return his jersey. As much as you wanted to avoid the situation, you knew you had to go.

You were so irritated as you snatched Mattheo’s jersey off the back of your chair that you hadn’t even noticed the red peonies and green jersey sitting on your bed at first. It wasn’t until you tossed your bag aside and went to fix your hair that the unexpected sight caught your eye.

Your eyes landed on the familiar green jersey, the back facing up so you could clearly see ‘Nott’ stitched in bold, unmistakable letters. A smile tugged at your lips, your earlier frustration fading as you reached for the flowers, their soft petals brushing against your fingers. Carefully, you lifted them, already picturing them in a vase on your desk. 

There’s a card tucked between the blooms, and you smile at Theo’s handwriting: Dolcezza—wear this for me tonight?

Suddenly, the idea of going to the match didn’t seem so dreadful anymore—if anything, it felt like something you could actually look forward to.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Finally!” Veronica calls out the moment she spots you, her voice laced with impatience. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” She stands outside the boys' locker room, arms crossed like she's been waiting for ages.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I told Mattheo I would be here.”

“I know,” She says, her tone short, before sticking out her hand expectantly. “I can take that.”

You hesitate, wanting to wait and give it to Mattheo yourself, but you know she’ll be the one wearing the jersey tonight. It feels pointless to hold onto it any longer. With a reluctant sigh, you hand it over, and Veronica’s lips curl into a triumphant smile as she takes it from you.

“Thanks.” She chirps, instantly brighter now that she’s got what she wanted. You watch as she slips the jersey on, and a slight bitterness creeps into your chest at the sight of it on her. She finishes adjusting the jersey and looks up, sending you a smug smirk that makes your stomach twist.

In the last week or so, you've noticed her once-sweet attitude starting to crack. At first, she was nothing but kind, almost to the point where you questioned if it was genuine. But now, the subtle comments slipping through made it clear—she didn’t like you, and you couldn’t figure out why.

Sure, you were close with Mattheo, but if the jersey was any indication, she had no real reason to worry. 

You were nothing but a friend to Mattheo, even though you desperately wished that wasn’t the case.

She eyes the jersey you're wearing, quirking an eyebrow as if she's about to say something snide. You brace yourself, waiting for the comment, but then her face lights up as her attention shifts to something—or someone—behind you.

You turn just as she brushes past you, wrapping her arms around Mattheo’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. The sight makes your stomach twist, and you quickly avert your gaze, unable to bear watching them. Her giggles fill the air, loud and lovesick, a blatant declaration that he’s hers now.

“Whose jersey are you wearing?” Your eyes snap over to Mattheo, who has one arm around Veronica’s waist as he looks at you curiously. Her arms are tightly wrapped around his neck, and she looks frustrated that his attention is on you. 

“Mine.” You glance over and see Theo approaching, a flicker of relief washing over you. A genuine smile spreads across your face, and before you think it through, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He looks momentarily surprised but quickly gathers himself, encircling your waist and holding you firmly.

You lean back slightly to meet his gaze, your voice softening. “Thank you for the flowers. Again.”

A warm, gentle smile blooms on his lips, the kind he reserves just for you. “Anytime, dolcezza.”

A moment lingers between you, where your eyes lock and soft smiles play on your lips. But the spell shatters at Veronica's excited squeal of Mattheo's name. You clear your throat, gently pulling away and offering Theo a fleeting smile, even though you sense his disappointment at the loss of your warmth.

Your gaze drifts toward Mattheo, who leans in to press a kiss against Veronica's lips, a pang of longing twisting in your chest. You exhale slowly, then look back at Theo. “Are you nervous?”

“Not really,” he replies with a casual shrug, though you catch a flicker of something beneath his calm exterior. “But if I do get nervous, I’ll just search for the pretty girl wearing my name.”

Your lips part in surprise at Theo’s bold flirting, a playful spark igniting in your chest. You try to mask your smile, but it’s no use—Theo sees right through you, a knowing grin spreading across his face as he revels in your reaction.

“Good luck. I’ll wait for you after.” You lean in, nearly whispering as you press a kiss against Theo's cheek, but in your nervousness, your lips brush against the corner of his mouth instead. The contact sends a spark of warmth through you, but before he can react, you pull away, leaving him to watch you walk off, the letters of his last name boldly displayed on your back.

He stands there for a second, staring after you, but as he turns to leave, he catches sight of Mattheo, who is watching you with an intensity that makes his heart sink.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You’re exhausted. Keeping track of both Mattheo and Theo is proving to be more tiring than you anticipated. You're used to focusing solely on Mattheo during the game, but tonight, your attention keeps shifting to Theo.

“Are you even listening to her?” Pansy scoffs, jabbing you in the ribs.

The unexpected nudge jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn to her, puzzled. “What?”

“Veronica. Are you paying attention?” Pansy glances over, raising an eyebrow.

You shake your head, “No. I didn’t even realize she was sitting nearby.”

“Listen to her. She’s been bragging about Mattheo.” That catches your attention. You follow Pansy’s finger as she points, and your gaze lands on Veronica a few rows ahead. As you focus, her voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, loud and unmistakable, carrying clearly despite the distance.

“Do you even know how long I waited to get him?” Veronica’s voice rises above the noise, smug and self-satisfied. You glance over just in time to see her gather her hair into a high ponytail, making sure the name on her back is fully visible. “Honestly, the effort was exhausting,” she adds with a dramatic sigh, as if she’s endured a great hardship.

The girls around her practically explode with excitement, bombarding her with questions—how did she do it? How long did it take? What’s he like? Their voices blend into a high-pitched buzz, and you roll your eyes, feeling the irritation build as you turn your attention back to the match, hoping to tune them out.

Pansy nudges you again, her voice low and insistent. “Keep listening.”

“No.” You grit out.

Pansy sighs, “Why not?”

You exhale sharply. “Because I really don’t want to hear her go on and on about him anymore.” The bitterness in your voice is hard to hide, but you don’t care. You’re too tired of hearing his name on her lips.

“You’ve barely listened!”

“It was enough for me.”

“There’s something off about the way she talks about him,” Pansy pushes, leaning in to try and catch your eye, but you continue looking forward and watching Theo. “I don’t like it.”

“I mean, I don’t either. But I’m not going to keep listening in.” “Why?” Pansy cries out incredulously, gaining the attention of some people around you.

“Because I’m supposed to be getting over him, and I don’t think listening in as his girlfriend talks about him will do that.”

“But what if somethings off? What if she’s blackmailing him or something?” Pansy asks, before she gasps and turns to face you fully. “What if he’s dating her to make you jealous?”

“Do you really think Mattheo Riddle would allow someone to blackmail him? And secondly, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“You never know. I always thought he had feelings for you.”

“Pansy. This is what I’m talking about,” You snap, sending a warning look to your best friend. “Mattheo can take care of himself, you and I both know that. There’s no way I’ll ever get over him if I start making up theories about why he’s with his girlfriend. Veronica’s a bitch, we know that, but that doesn’t mean she’s not with him for a genuine reason.”

Pansy exhales in frustration, adjusting in her seat as she finally turns her attention to the match. “Alright, I get it. I'll just share my theories with Blaise from now on.”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you imagine Blaise enduring the same conversation, likely rolling his eyes in exasperation, “Fine by me.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. Thanks to Theo's swift catch of the Snitch, Slytherin secured the win, and the stands erupted in cheers. You'd screamed so loudly in celebration that you're certain he heard you, even from across the pitch. The thrill of the moment filled you with energy, and you felt a surge of pride as he glanced your way after the catch.

You were eager to congratulate him, but held back, letting the others swarm him first. Instead, you were leaned against the wall outside the locker room, waiting for a moment alone with him. As you stood there, it wasn’t long before your mind wandered. You found yourself watching him from afar—his chest still heaving from the intensity of the match, hair tousled and damp with sweat. There was something about the way he looked after a game that had your thoughts trailing off in a completely different direction.

Had Theo Nott always been this gorgeous?

When he turns and catches your eye, you fully expect him to give the usual 'wait a minute' gesture, like Mattheo always does. But instead, to your surprise, Theo pushes straight through the crowd. In an instant, he's in front of you, pulling you up into his arms. You let out a shriek of his name through laughter, completely caught off guard by the sudden hug, his embrace warm and tight as if he'd been waiting for this moment all along.

“You did so good!” You cry out as he sets you down. When he grins at you, it’s almost enough to make you swoon; the sight of post-match Theo is something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. The blend of adrenaline and joy radiating from him leaves you momentarily breathless.

“It’s because you wore my jersey,” he shrugs, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I didn’t get to say it earlier, but you look really good in it.”

You nearly melt, “Does that mean I get to wear it at the next game?”

“Please do, dolcezza,” he says, his tone suddenly softer, the endearment dripping with warmth like honey. There’s a sincerity in his gaze that sends a flutter through your chest. “You make it look far better than I ever could.”

You don’t get the chance to respond as Enzo suddenly appears by his side, rambling on about something animatedly. With a quick tug, Enzo pulls Theo away, but not before he glances back, shouting over his shoulder about how he’ll see you tonight.

please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[machveil]

Neighbor!König Headcanons

before the events of the sticky note exchange! just some thoughts while I write pt 3

Neighbor!König didn’t realize his old neighbor moved out - he happened to be deployed when they did. he was surprised to see a bunch of boxes against the wall between his door and yours

Neighbor!König whose brain short circuits when he sees you exit the elevator, another box in your arms. he’s not too sure what to do, he was just leaving his apartment to run to the store

his hands are a little sweaty, mouth goes a little dry. he’s absolutely taken with you when you look up at him, all wide eyed and awed. it’s the first time you’ve seen each other and he’s pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment. he can’t find his voice when you say ‘hi’, so he awkwardly waves and ducks back into his apartment - he’ll get his groceries later

he’s silently debating whether he should go back out there and offer you a hand or just leave you be. eyes darting between his front door and his keys. would it be weird to go back out into the hallway? he just stared at you and waved, was that strange? do you think he’s a creep? a behemoth of a man who just quietly looked at you and left?

safe to say, he decided to just sit down on his couch. sighing, looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders slump. you were so pretty, he thinks. maybe that’s why his stomach did a flip when he heard your voice, because that was pretty too

he didn’t see you again for a week. he figured it was too late for a proper introduction, he’d just be your… quiet, weird neighbor. he didn’t want to be that, but the back of his mind kept replying his retreat. yeah, maybe it’s better to let that situation be

so when he entered the building after a walk around the block, he was startled when your hand caught the closing elevator doors. you had smiled at him, he saw your mouth moving as you talked - probably a greeting? he couldn’t be sure, he too focused on not taking up too much room in the cramped space. so when he heard you introduce yourself, heard you ask for his name, he blinked

“Ah— König.”, he mumbled, gaze darting towards the bright yellow floor numbers as they slowly creeped towards your shared floor. what he didn’t notice was how your gaze was glued to him. he was tall - tall enough he had to duck his head a little going through doors, and he was so big. a pleasant contrast to his seemingly meek demeanor, a demeanor that heavily contrasted his work

maybe, if König could tear his eyes away from the floor numbers and back down towards you, he would notice your eyes dilating slightly, a dopey, nervous smile tugging at your lips. being up close in such a confined space with him was doing things to you. you barely know the man - König - and you’re already smitten. but, before you can continue with any small talk, the elevator doors open and König is gone

he’s pushing through his apartment door, a soft click ringing out as he locks it behind him. “Oh Gott.”, mumbled words leaving his lips as he kicks his shoes off. eyebrows slightly knit as he moves to his bedroom, he pauses when he hears music. through your shared wall, the soft hum of your music plays - or is that you singing? he isn’t too sure, but before he registers it, he sitting down on the floor, back pressed to the wall.

eyes fluttering shut, he takes a deep breath. maybe if he properly became friends with you he could be in there with you. the cold, hard floor grounds him a little, the muffled music keeping his head from spiraling down more ‘what if’s’. but, as the song slows down and the next starts to play, one thought crosses his mind

he really should try to speak to you more

[acoazlove]

After Starfall

Azriel x reader

Summary: After starfall with your family is perfect.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff

─────────────────────────

Loud giggles filled the room, mixing with the quiet music.

Drink in hand while dancing with Mor. The aftermath of watching Starfall was far better than the show itself. Being with your family, the people who have been through so much to get to this point of happiness, made it far more breathtaking and heartwarming.

Mor somehow always managed to get you to your feet during this time, despite always starting the night telling her, ’Not this year.’ But she still manages to get you up anyway—probably because of the alcohol.

So here you are, you and Mor, drinks sloshing precariously close to the edge of your glasses, laughing, spinning, and tripping over each other. Dresses swaying with every step, smiles never leaving your faces.

Amidst it all, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. The eyes that belonged to the love of your life. His attentive nature, always making sure you’re safe and okay, and maybe also admiring his beautiful mate.

Azriel hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. When you had put on your dress—the same color as his siphons—he contemplated skipping the festivities to rip it off you and devour you then and there. But you were far too excited to notice the change in your mate's scent, so he decided he could wait till after.

Much to his brothers’ annoyance, he couldn’t keep a conversation going for more than a few seconds. Your laughter bouncing off the walls always managing to pull his gaze back to you.

A loud, overly dramatic huff was heard from beside him, drawing Azriel’s focus over to his left, where Cassian had a furrow between his brows. “Did you not hear me?” he asks incredulously. A snort comes from his right: “He’s too busy stalking his mate.” Rhys teases, while swirling his drink, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Always one to stir the pot.

Azriel’s face scrunched imperceptibly upon hearing that, “I was not stalking her.” He all but spat the word back at him, “I was watching her.” A bark of laughter left Cassian, “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“You don’t even know where Nesta is.” Az threw back at him. An offended noise left his brother at that, and a grumbled remark, that caused a chuckle to leave Rhys. But Azriel didn’t hear since he was already out of his seat, making his way over to you.

Babbling drunken nonsense with Mor as she spun you for probably the fourth time in the last two minutes, which caused you to stumble back a few steps, hitting what felt like a brick wall. As you turned around, your smile threatened to split your face in two when you comprehended that it was in fact your mate and not a brick wall.

Whether you realized you had sent your excitement and joy down the bond or not, it still caused his heart to skip a beat. His own dimpled grin grew in response.

”Azriel!” You threw yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around you. The rumble from his laugh was felt from your face smooshed into his chest. “Hi, Angel.” The term of endearment in his deep, husky voice made you feel all fluttery, so you pulled away to get a better look at him.

You yourself had hardly been able to keep your hands and hungry gaze off of him the first half of the night. The silky black shirt, buttoned down so you could see his toned, tattooed chest, the black dress pants that hugged his ass just right, and his onyx hair pushed back a little, compared to his usual tussled curls that fell across his forehead. He looked delicious. So much so that you felt a little drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

A low laugh left him as he angled your chin to meet his gaze. Eyes, the most gorgeous combination of gold and green. “Can I steal you for a dance?” Your smile grew if that was even possible. “Uh-huh.” was your only reply, as you grabbed his hand.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to signal that you were going to go dance with Azriel, but instead you managed to catch a glimpse of a stumbling Mor making her way over to Feyre. You escorted your mate out onto the balcony for a little more privacy.

As you got in position, it came naturally: a scarred hand pressing into your lower back, pulling you in close, your hand on his silk-covered shoulder, and your other hands clasping together.

Tonight wasn’t like all those times you had to waltz around the hewn city, acting like you couldn’t stand one another, faking so much hatred that became nearly unbearable. No, tonight was just the two of you swaying back and forth. About the love you shared and all those years of pining after one another before you bit the bullet and finally confessed those feelings.

Your head slumped forward, ear resting right over your lover's heart, the rhythm the best music one could ask for. Warmth and adoration being sent down the bond on both sides. This part of the holiday was the best, even if Mor teases you for it.

Eyes flutter close as his night-chilled mist and cedar scent fills your nose. “You smell good.” Words subtly slurred from the alcohol you consumed. A huff of laughter exited through Azriel’s nose, and he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as a reply. “You look stunning, my love.” His voice like liquid honey, a shiver running up your spine in response.

Pulling your head back to look up at him, smile growing once again, eyes now heavy lidded. “I love you.” words barely above a whisper. His molten, golden gaze softened. “I love you too, Angel.”

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and a contented sigh leaves you as his lips meet yours in a slow kiss. Your own hands trailing up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This idea popped into my head a couple of days ago, so I thought I might give it a go. I hope you liked it! <3

[m3l0nfl0at]

pack it up - t. kuroo

kuroo tetsurou x gn! reader ; FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, reader has doubts (who doesn’t honestly), domestic kuroo x reader, kenma teases you and kuroo for being simps, nerdy and simp kuroo (yummy, my fav), oh and timeskip!kuroo, 3.3k words

summary ; this is a mini fic based off of my fic here, just say yes but this can be read as a stand alone! You and Kuroo decide to take your relationship to the next level, are you ready for that change though? (aka moving in with kuroo)

melon’s recommended melody: moving out - kacey musgraves

Packing was always dreadful, it didn’t feel like long ago you were taking all this stuff out of the box and now you’re here putting it all back in a box. Even though Kenma told Kuroo to not steal his roommate, here you are moving into Kuroo’s apartment. Kenma keeps passing by your room watching you pack because each time he passes by, you’re focusing on something different. “You know Kuroo’s expecting you to be ready in three days, right? If you keep going at this rate, you’ll be done in, say, three years.” Kenma slowly walks away before you could even respond to him. Oh, how you were going to miss his sweet remarks. Truth be told, you loved living with Kenma, he was always neat, kept to himself, and you got used to hearing the video games he played during the night, even going so far as to call it “white noise”. Nevertheless, when Kuroo asked you last month if you wanted to move in, you felt ready to take your relationship to the next step. Kuroo would spend the night at your place occasionally. Nevertheless, you were more likely to spend the night at his due to not wanting to be affectionate in front of your roommate. If old habits die hard, then why were you here getting anxious at the thought of living with your boyfriend?

Living with Kenma, you got used to your daily routine in this apartment, you knew this apartment like the back of your hand, and you got used to seeing Kenma everyday but now that’s all going to change? You suppose that’s why it’s taking you forever to pack, you slightly fear everything changing too quickly. On one hand you’re excited to move in with your boyfriend, seeing Kuroo everyday? Yes please! On the other hand, you’re going to be seeing Kuroo everyday. What if he gets tired of you, what if he gets mad at your habits, or what if you guys realize living with each other that you guys aren’t meant for a relationship? Hearing Kenma walk by again, only to see you zoned out looking at a box labeled mementos. Kenma sensed something was wrong but thought if he kept walking by, maybe you would realize what little time you had and get to packing. However, by his fifth time walking by, he knew you were overthinking. Due to you being too quiet for your own good, that was his thing after all. “Tell me.”, you look up to see Kenma leaning on the door frame. “There’s nothing to tell, Ken. Just overwhelmed with how much crap I have to pack up.”, Kenma’s face relaxes as he glares at you. “Don’t make me call your boyfriend, so he can come give you a sappy talk.” You look back slowly at the mention of Kuroo not wanting him to see you in this state. “You know what? Maybe you do need your boyfriend to come snap you out of whatever daze you’re in. Who knows, maybe he’ll help you pack faster.”

You chuckle, knowing that Kenma secretly pokes fun at you guys for the way you both act so sweetly towards each other. “Would you make fun of me if I said to call Kuroo right now?” Kenma rolls his eyes, walking away. “I’ll call him.”, Kenma would never admit this out loud but he secretly loves seeing the way Kuroo folds for you. If Kenma wasn’t above publicly teasing he would so make fun of him for being absolutely whipped for you. Kenma left you alone with your sad empty mementos box, lifting up a picture frame that contained a picture with you and Kenma from when you first moved in. A part of your heart breaks, you reassure yourself that Kenma will always be here in this apartment. You hope he knows that a part of you will always be here too. If it weren’t for him, you and Kuroo would’ve never been together. You owe a lot to Kenma, from kickstarting your career to introducing you to your future boyfriend. Plus, you work under Bouncing Ball corp so you’ll still see him every other day. Kenma comes back and sees you look at the picture of you two, “You work for me you know? Plus you’re dating my best friend, I'm not dead or anything.”. Laughing you look up at him, “Can’t you let me be sentimental! I got used to your quirks, your 3 A.M. gaming, and your obnoxious best friend. I’m just going to miss seeing you as much as we are used to, that’s all.”

“We both know you just hate change but if it helps I’m going to miss you too. The apartment does look a little glum as you’re packing away all your stuff. I guess I actually have to decorate now.”, he groans thinking about how he’s going to decorate the apartment to fill your space. “Maybe now you can use my room to make that theater you always wanted?” Kenma nods, glad that you weren’t completely gone yet. Placing the picture frame in the box, you hear the door open. Quickly getting up to be met with Kuroo at the front door holding takeout, “There’s my beautiful partner, hi baby.”, you take the bags from his hands before he pulls you in for a hug placing a quick kiss on your cheek. Kenma comes behind you stealing the bags from you, gagging at the shared exchange. Kuroo laughs, “Well hello to you too, Kenma.”. You and Kuroo start heading to the table as Kuroo pulls out a chair for you to sit in.

The night goes on, as you all end up talking about your day and how the following days were going to look for the three of you amidst the chaos that was moving out. “Sweetheart, have you almost finished packing? I wanna know how much stuff you have so I can book the moving truck.”, you freeze. “About that…”, Kenma cuts you off, “All she has packed is a picture frame.”. You look over at Kenma, bewildered that he ratted you out. Kuroo laughs at how cute you look but is also shocked that you’ve packed so little in a week. “Let’s go baby, I’ll help you pack your things.” Kuroo gets up finished with his plate and grabs yours to place them both in the sink. Following him to your room you start to feel anxiety creep in, shaking your head to get rid of the thoughts. Kuroo walks in to see boxes all labeled and set up, yet lacking all the items inside. “Well, you would win the contest for boxing baby but not so much for packing.”. You place your head in your hands, “I know, this is so embarrassing. In my defense, every time I start to pack I get distracted and start doing something else.”. Kuroo grabs your hands off your face, placing them back on your lap, “Well now I’m here to help you, no need to be embarrassed sweetheart.”.

Kuroo grabs your box labeled clothes heading to the closet to start neatly folding the items in your closet. “Baby, do you want me to put this away in a specific way? Or should I just try to stuff everything in the box? Bunny?” Kuroo peeks his head out of the closet. Seeing you entranced on another picture frame, “Sweetheart, at this point I’ll pack the mementos.”. Kuroo went to grab the frame before he saw a picture of you as a toddler, now yanking it out of your hand. “Baby! Are you joking? You are so adorable! Oh my god this has to be hung up in the living room so I can see your cute little face before I leave for work!” You roll your eyes at Kuroo’s behavior, “Kenma should just pack the mementos because you would definitely not be faster than I am.” You get up to hug him from behind, “Tetsu, can I be honest with you?” Kuroo is still looking at the picture of you as he hums in approval. “I’m nervous.”, Kuroo finally places the picture in the box before turning to fully face you. Kuroo pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Breathe baby, your brain needs oxygen.” laughing along with him for being such a dork. “You know it’s okay to be nervous right? You’re going through a big change, be more lenient with yourself, yeah?”

Kuroo pulls back from you, “All I know is right now, my heart is pumping like crazy thinking about you living with me.” You laugh as he places your hand on his heart feeling the said thumping. Kuroo brought the positives into your life that you needed, made you feel safe, and most importantly stood by you even if you surrounded yourself in negative thoughts. “I’ll wake up to your breathtaking face every morning, come home to your heartstopping smile, and go to sleep with you in my arms. What more could I ask for? We’ll get through this together. I mean it’s not like I’ve ever lived with anyone before, especially with someone as gorgeous as you.”, you punch Kuroo’s shoulder rolling your eyes . Kenma coughs interrupting Kuroo’s speech before it went off the rails, “So I take it you're still not packed? You are both hopeless, move over.” Kenma starts placing all your mementos away in seconds, you look over at Kuroo mouthing I told you so. “I brought Kuroo to help you pack and now I’m here to hold Kuroo accountable. You both are going to get nothing done at your apartment, if all you do is give each other heart eyes all day.”, you and Kuroo blush profusely knowing that you’ve both been caught.

With Kenma helping you pack everything went smoothly, Kuroo left for the night leaving you and Kenma alone for the next two days. “Well, we got mostly everything. I just need to take down the last of my posters. I don't want them to bend out of shape in the boxes. Then we can start loading everything into the truck.”, you stopped when you suddenly heard a shuffle behind you. Turning around to be met with Kenma looking around and touching the empty walls glumly, “It’s going to be hard to find something to replace your space. That something is going to fall short in everything compared to you.”, you get closer to Kenma before nudging his shoulder softly. “I’ll miss you too Ken. Thank you for everything, I could never repay you for the amount of kindness you showed me.”, breaking away it felt bittersweet. The walls were suddenly white with no more picture frames or traces of you anywhere, you’re actually moving out. “You ready to start packing up the truck?” Kuroo's bedhead fills the doorway as Kenma gives you one last smile pushing you towards Kuroo. You take up his offer, getting to work by lifting your boxes that is until Kuroo stops you. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ll take that one. Don’t want to bump into each other again, do we? Can’t have you falling for me a second time.”. You brush off his comment but you're strangling him as soon as you get to your new apartment.

All the coming and going back and forth had you exhausted, wanting nothing more than to start unpacking everything. You go to Kuroo’s room making a mental list of everything you need to buy from furniture to home products. Kuroo says goodbye to Kenma, a few seconds later you hear his footsteps approach you from down the hallway. He walks up from behind, embracing you, “You ready to start unpacking baby? Ken said he gave you the next couple of days off so you can settle in.”. You nod, wanting nothing more than to make this apartment your new home, “Yeah, I was thinking we could go to a furniture shop and also to the groceries! You know just so I can get some of my favorite products-”. “No need to worry bunny, I restocked your products you left here. I also got you a dresser for your side of the closet, even separated my side from yours. However, if you still want we can go to the groceries and Ikea just in case I missed something.” You turn around amazed he did all of that for you, “Are you serious Kuroo? You thought that far ahead?”. He nods excitedly, dragging you to the closet as you see his side of the closet filled with clothes. In addition, you see the newly setup dresser for you on your side. Then he drags you to the bathroom looking at the shower rack filled with all your regular products and a space in the toothbrush holder for you. Spinning around to crush him in a hug. He knows that change wasn’t always easy for you but if he could do anything extra to make it easier, he would do it again a thousand times. “I love you so much Tetsu.”, Kuroo grins into the crook of your neck feeling his palms getting sweaty due to being so close to you.

“Well, this is our home now. I want you to feel the same way I do when I’m with you, safe and welcomed.”, you pull back pecking him on the lips. “You’re getting too good at reading me, it's starting to freak me out Tetsu. Don’t tell me you even bought me my own loofah?” Kuroo bashfully opens the shower curtain to show you the new loofah standing next to his. You laugh suddenly feeling at ease, having to ask Kenma later if he had any part in this. Kuroo was right, this is your home, you didn’t want to be anywhere but with him. “Well casanova, help me unpack will ya?” Kuroo scrunches his nose at the new nickname you call him. “Nope, try again baby.”, you think hard trying to think of a nickname that’ll smoothly roll off the tongue. “Ok what about handsome, my love, darling, superstar, my loverboy, captain-”, Kuroo places a hand over your mouth quickly. His face is so red, it almost replicates a tomato, “Yes to all but I fear that if you kept going I was going to have a heart attack. Plus, we still have to unpack and I don’t think I can hold myself back for much longer if you keep calling me sweet names.”

After an eventful day of unpacking, you and Kuroo spent the rest of the day cuddling at ease which is something you usually do every night. Yet both of you felt so giddy laying down tonight, you don’t have to wake up in the morning and immediately leave for your train. Instead you’ll wake up, look over to the love of your life and start your new daily routine with him doing the most domestic things together. You fell asleep knowing this was a new chapter in your life and as scary as that was, you know wouldn’t want to share this experience with anyone else. Kuroo wraps his hand around your waist, sighing, feeling at peace with everything around him. He had nothing to worry about, no worries like if you made it home safely or if some creep on the train bothered you, you were right here safe in his arms. You both wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here, encapsulated in each other's warmth.

Feeling the sun slowly creeping up you turn around to face Kuroo, “No, don’t move, I need five more minutes.”. Giggling as you still move, wanting to see his face like you did the day you realized you liked him. “Isn’t this a sight to see? You know what, I don't need five more minutes, your face is my energizer. I can’t believe I get to wake up to you everyday, I must’ve solved some huge problem in my past life to be blessed with you.”, you hide your face in his chest from all the compliments he paid you this early in the morning. Kuroo kisses the top of your head before you feel the rumble of his laugh traveling through his chest. “Want to go make breakfast with me bunny? I bought some groceries to make pancakes. Yeah?”, you nod your head as you head to the bathroom to do your routine. Kuroo walks behind you, by reflex you hand him a spa headband so he can wash his face. He takes the black cat ear headband looking at it confused, your eyes widen standing straight up. “Sorry! I would always wash my face with Kenma so it’s by reflex.” Kuroo kisses your cheek following you while putting on the headband, “Okay, show me what you do baby. Maybe if I do everything correctly I’ll look as flawless as you do everyday.”

You take your time explaining to Kuroo your skincare and how to apply everything in which he obediently follows, taking note of what products you like for later. Then you both brush your teeth, making sure to go through everything diligently. However, when you looked at Kuroo you noticed his hair was sort of deflated. Due to him not being able to sleep between two pillows like he usually does. You start combing through his soft locks, seeing how he deflates under your touch. “You ready to go make some breakfast, my love?” Kuroo flushed under your touch and the use of his new nickname, nodding not wanting to wait a second. You grab his hand leading him to the kitchen, Kuroo smiles. Glad that you’re familiar enough with his apartment layout to lead him through it. “Ok handsome, let’s go make some pancakes.”

Kuroo guides you through his kitchen showing you where the spices were, how he dedicated a whole shelf in his pantry for you, and where he puts his utensils. Feeling confident enough you head to the pantry finding the pancake mix and hand it to him, while he grabs it but not forgetting to place a kiss on your hand. Wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the muscles on his back move as he softly whisks the pancake batter, finding solace in this moment. “You still tired bunny? You can go lay down I’ll wake you when everything’s done.”, you shake your head. “No I’m not tired, just really comfortable right now with you. Being here, I feel welcomed by everything that you are. Waking up I see you, the living room has traces of your style, like it just feels like you everywhere I go.” Kuroo softly chuckles, “That’s good though right?” he feels you nod your hair ticking his back.

Letting go of Kuroo, you leave him to cook the pancakes while you prepare fruit and set the table. Kuroo pulls out your chair letting you sit down as he serves you a plate of pancakes shaped like a heart. You smile as he sits down grabbing your hand, caressing it, lifting his mug. “Here’s to our first full day of living together, I know there will be many more to go, I love you bunny.”, you smile clinking your mugs together. You send a picture to Kenma of Kuroo eating his pancakes surrounded by the array of fruit you cut up for the both of you. Making sure to get the heart shaped pancakes Kuroo made for you in the shot as well. Only to immediately get a reply back, “You both make me sick. Enjoy the new apartment lovebirds! (¬⤙¬ )”.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: writing this had me giggling so bad also just say yes now has a time line so please look forward to the masterlist! p.p.s i am accepting request for just say yes! kuroo short stories so hit up my inbox and i’ll try to get those done! i’m doing everything in a timeline order so pls be patient just know i see them! <3

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[hoshifighting]

Hey pookie so I just wanted to ask seeing that you didn't see any of my asks in your inbox could you write me a ff where you're in seventeen and you used to have a friends with benefits situation with wonwoo but now that's over and you're with josh but he knows that so now he wants to have a threesome with you and won I you are comfortable and have the time😊💗

threesome with; actual situationship!joshua & past situationship!wonwoo WC: 3.3k WARNINGS: smut, threesome, reader misses wonwoo, mentions of ovulation/sensitiveness, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), body fluids (cum) penetrative sex, a teeth scratch during blowjob—no pain, joshua and wonwoo making eye contact as they fuck you—idk, but felt like a warning.

you’re not entirely sure how it started. maybe it’s the way joshua’s always had this easy charm, like he knows exactly how to say shit that gets under your skin. but it’s not the kind of annoyance that makes you want to push him away, it’s the kind that makes you want to shut him up by doing things that leave the both of you breathless.

and wonwoo… well, wonwoo’s always been a different story. it’s not like he’s cold, exactly. just detached, distant. except when he’s not. except when his hands were on your hips, and his mouth was on your neck, and when he pulled you so close that it’s like he wanted to remind you how much he can feel.

it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it did. until it didn’t.

now, though? now you’ve got joshua, and that’s its own thing. he’s smoother than wonwoo ever was, always knows how to keep things light and playful even when his touch is hot and heavy. you’re not sure what to call what you have with him—it’s not exactly a relationship, but it’s not casual either. and he knows about wonwoo. of course he does. you never accomplished about lying to joshus, he knows everything about you, and you simply cant lie looking inside his eyes.

“so,” joshua says, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you with that lazy smirk you’ve come to expect. “what if we changed things up?”

you raise a brow, not quite following. “changed things up how?”

his gaze flicks over you, dark in his eyes now, something you’ve only seen in flashes before, right when he’s about to get serious. “i know about you and wonwoo. i know it’s over, but…” he lets the words hang there, knowing exactly how to build suspense. “what if it didn’t have to be over?”

you feel your stomach flip, your mind racing to catch up with the suggestion that’s hanging in the air like a loaded gun. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look like he’s joking. “i’m talking about the three of us.”

you let out a laugh, more out of shock than anything. “a fucking threesome? with wonwoo?” it’s so ridiculous, but there’s something twisted in your chest that says it’s not entirely a bad idea.

joshua just shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you said he was good, right? no reason to keep that all to yourself. besides… i’m curious.”

“curious?” you echo, still not believing what you’re hearing. “about what exactly?”

his smile turns wicked, and he leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “about what it’d be like to see you with him. to see how you’d react if it was both of us. together.”

the idea rolls through your mind like wildfire, igniting thoughts you didn’t even know were buried there. you picture it—wonwoo’s quiet dom that you remembered, joshua’s charming and sensual—and suddenly, the room feels too hot, your heart beating too fast.

you lean back, eyes narrowed. “and what makes you think wonwoo’s even into that?”

joshua grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “oh, he’s into it. trust me.”

you don’t need to ask how he knows, and that’s what gets to you. this whole situation, as absurd as it sounds, feels almost inevitable. the tension between you and joshua’s always been good enough, but throw wonwoo into the mix, and it’s like adding gasoline to a slow-burning fire.

“you really think this is a good idea?” you ask, not sure if you’re talking to joshua or yourself at this point.

“i think it’s an idea,” he says, shrugging again, that confidence never leaving his face. “whether or not it’s a good one is up to you.”

you bite your lip, torn between the pull of curiosity and the weight of everything that’s gone down with wonwoo. it wasn’t messy when it ended, but it wasn’t exactly clean either. things like that don’t just disappear. they linger.

“fuck, you’re serious about this.” it’s not a question, more like a realization. joshua’s leaning in, his hands tracing light patterns over your skin, and you feel yourself giving in to the inevitable, even though part of you is still screaming that this is insane.

“completely,” he says, his lips grazing your jaw. “so, what do you say? wanna see how far we can push this?”

there’s a moment, where you think about what this could mean. it’s not just about sex, not with joshua and wonwoo involved. the way joshua’s eyes burn into yours as if he’s daring you to cross a line you can never uncross.

but then, you think about the way wonwoo used to look at you, that hunger in his sharp eyes, and the way joshua’s always been able to coax you into doing things you never thought you’d be into. and, well… maybe crossing that line isn’t the worst idea after all.

“alright,” the weight behind it feels like a door being kicked wide open. “let’s do it.”

joshua’s grin stretches wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “that’s what i thought you’d say.”

you can feel wonwoo's presence, even though wonwoo’s not here yet. but you know—you know—that when he is, things are going to change in a way none of you can ever take back.

and the fucked up part is? you’re not sure you’d want to.

[...]

“a threesome?!”

wonwoo’s voice cuts through the room. he’s standing at the foot of joshua’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief—those same eyes that are always narrow, focused, but right now they’re blown open like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.

honestly, you can’t blame him.

you sit there, smaller than you’ve ever felt, wrapped in the sheets like they might shield you from the exhasperation of his reaction. you’d expected some kind of pushback from wonwoo—he’s not exactly the most spontaneous guy—but the shock in his voice still stings more than you’d thought it would. joshua’s quiet beside you, arms folded across his chest, watching wonwoo with this unreadable look, lips pressed into a thin line. like he’s assessing the situation. like he’s waiting to see how this plays out.

“i—” you start, but your throat feels dry, your words dying before they’ve even formed. you shift, uncomfortable, but it’s not just the awkwardness of the moment. there’s something more, something deeper that’s making your skin feel hot, your body overly sensitive to every movement. you know what it is. you can feel it. your body’s buzzing, the ache between your thighs making itself known with every subtle shift of the sheets. you’re ovulating, and it’s making this whole thing worse, making your body respond in ways that are frustratingly out of your control.

wonwoo’s still staring, he looks at you, then at joshua, then back at you again. you don’t meet his eyes, can’t bring yourself to.

“are you serious?” his voice is lower now, more measured, but there’s still a note of incredulity in it.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up at him. “yeah,” you say, voice quiet, but it’s the truth. “we’re serious.”

wonwoo looks like he’s processing it, his mind running a mile a minute, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression that tells you he’s considering it. and that’s enough for joshua, who leans forward slightly, his voice smooth, persuasive.

“it’s not as weird as it sounds,” joshua says, his tone light, like he’s just suggesting something casual, like going out for drinks. “you’re both already close. you trust each other, I know you for years. we’ve all got chemistry, right?”

wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly at joshua, but the tension between them isn’t exactly hostile. it’s more like a challenge, like he’s weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this is something he can actually wrap his head around.

finally, wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, there’s a resigned sort of acceptance in his voice. “fuck it. okay.”

your heart jumps at the words. wonwoo’s gaze locks on yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no distance between you. no walls.

joshua doesn’t say anything, but you feel his presence, the way his eyes are on you, observing every little reaction. there’s something almost possessive in the way he watches, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

you don’t wait long.

before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re reaching for wonwoo, pulling him down by the front of his shirt until his lips crash into yours. it’s messy, a little frantic, and you missed him. so, so much. like you missed him more than you were willing to admit. you can’t help the small sound that escapes your throat, the way your body responds immediately, almost embarrassingly fast.

wonwoo’s hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, torching the fire that’s already been burning low in your belly.

joshua’s still silent beside you, but you feel his eyes on you, feel the way his presence lingers, close but not touching. when you finally pull away from wonwoo, breathless and dazed, you glance at joshua. his lips are pressed together in a tight line, his expression carefully neutral, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells you he’s not unaffected by what he just saw.

“fuck,” wonwoo mutters, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “you’re… fuck, you’re wet already.”

you let out a shaky breath, your body pulsing with a need that’s only getting worse. “yeah,” you admit, not even embarrassed by it. “it’s… it’s the timing.”

wonwoo raises a brow, confused for a second, before realization dawns on his face. “oh.”

wonwoo knew about “the timing” he used to be your relief for it, and he remembered how sensitive you were.

joshua finally speaks up “she’s sensitive right now. been like this all day.”

you want it. you need it.

wonwoo’s eyes darken, his fingers tightening on your waist. “is that right?”

joshua’s watching closely, his hand brushing over your thigh, and the contact is enough to make your breath hitch, your body already responding before you can even think about it. “she’s all yours for now,” joshua murmurs. “but don’t get too comfortable.”

wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, his hands exploring your body with a familiarity that makes the nostalgia wash over you like grandma's food, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him.

every touch, every kiss feels magnified, like your senses are on overdrive, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from losing control entirely. you’re wet, so wet it’s embarrassing, and you know they can both feel it, know exactly how badly you want this, how badly you need it.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” wonwoo breathes against your skin, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. “can’t believe how wet you are.”

joshua leans in, his lips brushing wonwoo's ear as he whispers, “told you she’s been like this all day. it’s driving her crazy.”

you let out a shaky breath, wonwoo’s fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked core, and you moan, your head falling back against joshua’s shoulder. it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving, what your body’s been screaming for all day.

joshua’s hand slips under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, twisting the hardened nipples, he’s letting wonwoo have you, letting you drown in it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he takes over.

wonwoo’s fingers slide inside you, slow at first, and the instant he curls them, you feel your body react, hips stuttering forward like you’re trying to chase the sensation, but can’t quite control it. it’s like your entire body remembers him, remembers the way he used to touch you, how he knows exactly what makes you fall apart.

you gasp, your forehead pressing against his chest, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, keeping you close. “fuck,” you whisper, your breath ragged, your skin burning, fever. “wonwoo…”

he doesn’t respond with words, just lets out a low hum, his fingers working inside you with an infuriating pace, slow but so damn effective. you clench around him, feeling the wetness start to drip onto the sheets beneath you, and your mind’s a blur.

then, they share a look—wonwoo and joshua, their eyes meeting over your trembling form like they’re communicating something quietly between them. it makes your stomach tighten. wonwoo’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as you crumble against him, barely able to hold yourself up.

“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” wonwoo mutters, his fingers start moving faster, curling with every thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”

“wonwoo—” you choke out, your head falling back, and your hand reaches out blindly for joshua. he’s pulling away, but you need him, need both of them. “joshua—”

you hear him groan softly, and when you turn your head, you see him standing there, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, watching you like he’s savoring the sight of you falling apart on wonwoo’s fingers. “fuck, you look so good like that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “so fucking needy.”

you bite your lip, moaning as wonwoo’s fingers slide deeper, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as your body betrays you. your thighs tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, the sensation of being split between them making your head spin. “joshua,” you moan again, voice breaking. “please… come back.”

he doesn’t need much more convincing. you watch as he steps forward, his cock hard and slick in his fist. “you want me that bad, huh?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice cutting through the haze clouding your mind. “can’t handle just wonwoo?”

wonwoo chuckles softly, his fingers still working inside you. “she’s falling apart already,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “not sure she can handle both of us.”

“she can,” joshua says confidently, his thumb swiping over the tip of his cock as he steps closer, looming over you. “she just needs a little encouragement.”

you’re already panting, your body on edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control completely. you can feel the wetness coating his hand now, dripping onto the sheets, and it only makes the whole thing worse. every little movement makes you more sensitive, your body almost too responsive, and the frustration builds in your chest.

joshua kneels down on the bed, his cock brushing your lips, and you open your mouth automatically, desperate to have him inside you. but the second you try to take him in, wonwoo’s fingers curl again, and you gasp, your body jerking uncontrollably.

“shit—” you whimper, struggling to breathe, “i can’t—”

joshua presses the tip of his cock against your lips, his eyes burning into yours. “oh, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder, baby.”

you moan against him, your hips rolling instinctively into wonwoo’s hand, your body caught in this maddening push and pull between the two of them. joshua slides his cock past your lips, and the feeling of him, heavy and warm on your tongue, only intensifies the sensation of wonwoo’s fingers inside you. you choke a little, struggling to focus on either one of them, but it’s impossible.

wonwoo’s pace picks up, his fingers thrusting deeper, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls them out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you whine at the loss, your head spinning, but before you can even process it, he’s shifting lower, pressing your thighs apart with a firm grip.

“wonwoo—” you gasp, your words muffled around joshua’s cock.

“shh,” wonwoo murmurs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “just relax.”

and then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe up your center, and your entire body seizes up, a broken moan ripping from your throat. your hips buck against his mouth, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your thighs as he starts devouring you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

“fuck,” joshua mutters, his hand tightening in your hair as you struggle to take him, the combination of wonwoo’s tongue on your clit and joshua in your mouth pushing you past the point of reason. “you’re so fucking wet. wonwoo’s making a mess out of you.”

you can’t respond, can barely even think, your mind a swirling mess. wonwoo’s tongue is relentless, teasing and sucking at your clit, his fingers slipping back inside you as he eats you out like it’s his only mission in life. you can feel your legs shaking, your entire body trembling as you try to keep up, but it’s impossible. every touch, every thrust of his fingers makes you more sensitive, makes it harder to breathe.

“fuck, i can’t—” you gasp, pulling off joshua’s cock for a second, your voice a desperate, breathless whine.

joshua just chuckles darkly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “you’re doing so good, baby. just a little more.”

wonwoo hums in agreement, the vibration against your clit making your entire body jolt, and you feel yourself spiraling, the tension building faster than you can handle. his tongue flicks over you again, and this time, he focuses on that one spot—the needy, throbbing clit—sucking just hard enough to send you over the edge.

you cry out, your back arching off the bed, your entire body shuddering as the orgasm rips through you, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, trembling and gasping for breath as wonwoo keeps going, his mouth never letting up.

“fuck, look at you,” joshua mutters, his voice full of awe as he watches you fall apart. “so fucking beautiful when you come. i love it.”

wonwoo finally pulls back, his lips shiny and slick with your cum, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you. “she’s not done yet,”

and you know he’s right.

“fuck, look at you,” wonwoo mutters, pulling back from between your legs, his lips still glistening with you. “i’ve got you ready for him, haven’t i?” the heat in your cheeks burning deeper as you realize what he means.

you don’t have time to respond before joshua's hands are on your hips, pulling you up to your knees. the shift makes you gasp, you glance back at him.

“yeah, you’ve got her real nice and wet for me,” joshua says, the blunt head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “good job, wonwoo.”

you feel a kick of embarrassment making your legs shake. wonwoo’s hand comes up to brush against your cheek, turning your face toward him as he looks down at you with that familiar gaze. “c’mere,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lips. “i missed your pretty mouth.”

your lips part automatically, like you’re drawn to him, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him toward your lips. he groans softly as you take him in, his hand resting on your jaw, fingers curling slightly as you suck him in deeper.

“god, i missed this,” he breathes out, his voice catching as you swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your throat. “missed how fucking good you are at this.”

your cheeks flush at the praise, your body humming as joshua teases you from behind, the tip of his cock just narrowly entering you. wonwoo’s hand tightens on your jaw, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down, your lips stretched around him. the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him—everything is overwhelming in the best way.

but just as you start to take him in throat, joshua suddenly thrusts into you from behind, hard. the sharp intrusion makes you gasp around wonwoo’s cock, your teeth scraping lightly against him as the sudden cock fills you all at once.

“shit—!” wonwoo curses, his hips jerking as your teeth graze him, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him jolt. his eyes widen in shock, but then a shaky laugh escapes his lips, his free hand tightening in your hair as he steadies you. “motherfucker.”

joshua lets out a loud laugh behind you, clearly amused by wonwoo’s reaction. “sorry about that,” he says, but there’s no real apology in his tone, only satisfaction as he starts moving inside you again, his hips snapping forward with sharp, controlled thrusts that have you whimpering around wonwoo’s cock.

“you’re such a fucking asshole hyung,” wonwoo mutters, but the words are strained, his voice catching as he watches your lips stretch around him. his hand rests on the back of your neck now, guiding your head in time with his shallow thrusts as he slowly fucks your mouth. “fuck, just like that. good girl.”

joshua’s pace is relentless, his hips slamming into you from behind, both filling you—wonwoo in your mouth, joshua inside you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,” joshua groans, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pushes deeper, the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you filling the room. “woo, you’ve got her all loosened up, but she’s still so fucking tight around me.”

wonwoo chuckles, but it’s strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watches you struggle to take both of them. “yeah?” he mutters, his voice rough. “she’s so fucking wet, isn’t she? dripping all over you.”

joshua’s pace falters for just a second as he glances up at wonwoo, and for a moment, they lock eyes. it’s strange at first, like neither of them expected to find themselves in this situation—watching each other while they both take you apart. its strange, strange because...

they start to enjoy it.

they enjoy the way their faces contort, the way their moans mix together, the sight of you caught between them—cocks twitching.

joshua whimpers as looking wonwoo's eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he gives you another sharp thrust, just to watch you choke around wonwoo’s cock.

the sound of both of them moaning, cursing, panting—it only makes you wetter, makes you crave more.

“shit,” joshua breathes out, his voice strained as he keeps up the brutal pace, his hand sliding up your back, fingers digging into your skin. “fuck, you’re taking us so well.”

wonwoo’s face contorts, his hand tightening in your hair as his cock twitches in your mouth. “you’re gonna make me come if you keep going like this,” he groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fights to stay in control.

you whimper around him, your body shaking as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and you can feel yourself getting closer, every movement, every touch is pushing you nigher, and the sounds of their moans, the way they’re both so fucking into it—it’s enough to send you over.

“cum for us,” joshua growls, as his hips slam into you again, harder this time.

wonwoo’s grip tightens, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he watches you, his fingers flexing slightly on the back of your neck. “show us how fucking good you are.”

your body finally gives in. you come hard, your entire body shaking with the power of it, your lips trembling around wonwoo’s cock as you gasp for air.

“fuck,” wonwoo groans, his hand tightening on your neck as his hips stutter forward, his cock twitching in your mouth as he follows you over the edge.

joshua isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time before he lets out a sly, throaty moan, his body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up.

wonwoo pulls out of your mouth slowly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he looks down at you. you look at him shaking your head, taking his cock inside your wet mouth again.

the man melts on the headboard, joshua sat, looking how you look eager to make wonwoo cum, like you just cant leave him hanging. your knees give out, but your neck keep working to bob your head.

there's a line of spit dripping from your chin, as you suck him moaning, as the simply action of sucking him, was stimulating you. wonwoo eyes are glued with joshua's, the hyung biting his own bottom lip as he watches every single detail.

wonwoo feels the cock twitching, the gaze of his hyung plus the warmth of your mouth, making him cum on spot. he looks back at you again, the cum filling your tongue, leaving traces of it on your chin and neck, as you moan dumbly before laying on his thigh.

the boys make eye contact again, a smile spreading across their lips.

[vrystalius]

I've been wanting to send in this ask from quite a while , could i please request reader x kyojuro where they were talking about his late mother and the reader holds him the same way his mother did when he was younger unknowingly to comfort him , thank you for reading ! take care <3

Kyojuro being held.

Hugging and offering your comfort to Kyojuro after finding him in front of Ruka’s shine.

Pairing: Kyojuro x gn!reader

Kyojuro makes sure to pray for his mother before heading out on missions. Senjuro makes sure to keep the shrine clean and tidy when his older brother is away, dusting off every surface and repositioning the portraits of Ruka to face the house properly, and Kyojuro appreciates it greatly. It’s comforting to him to just kneel down onto the soft pillow in front of the carefully chiseled shrine, to light some incense and mutter quiet prayers under his breath while bowing his head. It always feels like Ruka’s watching over him and making sure he, his little brother and father are doing fine. Although his father could use a little more watching and maybe some divine scolding from his mother.

He was just about to grab his sheathed katana and prepare to head out when Kyojuro felt a warm hand touch his back and slowly wrap around his shoulders. Turning his head to check to was pulling him into their embrace was not needed, he knew it was you.

“My love, you’re here. Would you like to get to know my mother a little? I realised I barely speak of her.”

Kyojuro had a small smile on his face that had a tinge of sadness to it. You scooted a little closer, sitting right next to him as he took one of the flowers that were placed into Ruka’s favourite vase and handed it to you.

“It was her favourite flower. I remember my father bringing home a new batch everytime he returned from a mission. Senjuro liked knocking the vases over, so father always made sure to put them out of his reach. They always died so quickly ever since mother got sick, father forgot to change the waters every time.”

His smile brightened slightly while watching you twirl and inspect the flower in your hand. Kyojuro’s gaze lifted and he looked at your face as a whole, brushing his fingers across your cheekbones and cheeks.

“My mother would’ve loved you. You’re so sweet and kind to me, always waiting up on me into the middle of the night to greet me, and you always spoil me with your cuddles and cooking. You’re almost heavenly sent!”

Realising what he said, his smile softened again. Kyojuro scooted closer to you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Perhaps my mother sent you.”

He mumbled into your shoulder, his hold getting tighter. He shivered slightly when one of your arms gently wrapped around his shoulders, your other arm resting on his broad shoulders and running through his bright locks. Kyojuro sighed deeply and closed his eyes, melting against your touch.

Just for a split second he was back in Ruka’s arms, listening to her voice and how he should use his strength to protect others who cannot do it themselves. You two remained like this for what felt like an eternity, and he was never planning on letting go. But after opening his eyes and pulling away from your gentle hug, he was just staring into your eyes, being reminded once again why he wants to propose to you so badly.

“I didn’t think I needed that hug but I seemingly did. Thank you.”

Kyojuro sighed and stood up, brushing off some dust off his pants and offering you a hand to stand back up.

“I believe I can postpone my mission for a little longer. I’ll move during nightfall, that way we can spend more time together. Would you like to hear more about my mother? We can help my little brother prepare dinner meanwhile, I’m sure he’d like to hear about mother a little too!”

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! Hope you enjoyed it, anon! I just love writing about cuddles and holding, running fingers through hairs and just soft fluff. Maybe because I’m often tired and want to be treated like that XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[littlelamy]

reader gets into it with her best friend and goes to rafe

a/n: hi, thank you so much for this request 🤍 i hope u don’t mind, i used sarah as reader’s best friend! 🐑

you storm out of the chateau, slamming the door behind you so hard the windows rattle. sarah’s voice echoes in your mind, every sharp word cutting deeper than the last. your pulse races, your chest tight, and the humid outer banks air does nothing to soothe your anger. you just need to get away—from her, from the fight, from everything.

and without thinking, you end up at tannyhill.

your hands grip the steering wheel so tight your knuckles ache, but it’s the only thing grounding you right now. when you pull up to the estate, the sight of it calms something inside you, just for a moment. but the second you get out of the car, the weight of everything hits you all over again. you can’t stay in your own head any longer. you need something, someone, to take the edge off.

the door opens before you knock, and there he is—leaning against the doorframe like he’s been waiting for this. rafe’s in a plain white t-shirt, jeans slung low on his hips, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. it’s maddening how effortlessly he reads you.

“couldn’t stay away, huh?” his voice is low, smooth, and it rolls over you like a challenge.

you push past him without answering, the tension bubbling under your skin too much to deal with right now. you can feel his eyes on you, tracking every movement as you step into the living room. it’s dim inside, the house quiet, but the air feels thick, charged. you can hear the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“what happened? sarah?” he asks, closing the door behind him with a soft click. his tone is amused, but there’s something more lurking beneath it—something darker.

you run a hand through your hair, pacing as the words tumble out. “yeah, sarah. she just—” you break off, shaking your head. “it doesn’t even matter.”

he watches you, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he has all the time in the world. “sounds like it does.”

you glare at him, frustrated with how easily he seems to brush everything off. “she acts like she knows everything. like i’m the one who's always in the wrong.”

“maybe you are,” he says, stepping closer, voice smooth and infuriatingly calm.

you narrow your eyes at him. “you think this is funny?”

his eyes darken as he closes the distance between you, his voice dropping lower. “nah. i just think you’re too worked up to think straight.”

his scent hits you first—something woodsy, like a mix of cologne and the faintest hint of smoke, something that always clings to him. it makes your head swim, a distraction from the anger still burning in your chest. you can feel his breath on your neck now, warm and teasing, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“what are you doing here?” rafe murmurs, his hand brushing against your arm, slow and deliberate, like he knows the effect it has on you.

“i don’t know,” you admit, hating how shaky your voice sounds. “i just needed to get out of there.”

“you came here for a reason,” he says, stepping even closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “what do you need?”

you know what he’s doing, the way his voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling you in, making you forget. you shouldn’t want this, not now—not after everything. but the weight of the fight with sarah, the tension still coiled tight in your chest, makes it impossible to think straight.

“i don’t need anything,” you lie, but your body betrays you, leaning into him just slightly.

he chuckles softly, the sound low and almost predatory. “that’s not what it looks like.”

his hand slides down your arm, his touch sending a jolt through you. his fingers ghost over your hip, gripping you just enough to pull you flush against him. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. his breath brushes your cheek, warm and steady, and it’s all too much—too close, too intense.

“tell me what you need,” he whispers, lips barely grazing your ear.

your heart hammers in your chest, your mind racing. you should pull away, put some distance between you. but you can’t. the way he looks at you, like he already knows what you want, makes it impossible to move. impossible to think of anything other than him.

“rafe,” you start, voice catching in your throat, but before you can say anything else, his lips are on your neck, soft at first, then more insistent. your breath hitches, every nerve in your body lighting up as his hands grip your waist tighter.

“you want to forget?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with promise. “i can make you forget.”

you close your eyes, your resolve crumbling as his mouth moves lower, and you hate how much you need this—how much you need him right now. but maybe that’s exactly what you came here for. to let go. to drown out everything else.

“make me forget,” you whisper, and when you feel his lips curl into a dark smile against your skin, you know you’ve already given in.

[paperstorm]

Kicking things off with a little scene from 4x18 that I've had saved in my drafts for months, in the spirit of some of us rewatching the season 4 finale on Monday :)

-

“Don’t,” he mutters harshly, the second he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Carlos,” TK practically whimpers.

Carlos looks at him. Tk’s eyes are bright and sparkling with tears. He presses his lips together and squeezes his eyes shut, dropping his chin as tears drip down off his own face and fall to the floor.

TK whispers, “Baby.”

Carlos shakes his head. TK’s been calling him that for so long. Carlos has loved it every time and strived to be worthy of it, and right now it’s like nails on a chalkboard. He'll never hear Carlitos or mijo in his father's deep timbre again.

Suddenly TK is in front of him, hands touching his biceps and then arms being tossed around his neck, pulling him into a hug. The dam completely shatters; Carlos’s shoulders shake as his body is wracked with violet sobs. He grasps helplessly at the back of TK’s shirt, clutching him, keeping TK close because without him to lean on Carlos thinks he would be in a heap on the concrete floor along with his tears.

“I know,” TK murmurs, stroking his hair, his cheek, the back of his neck.

“I don’t know what to do,” Carlos forces out as another flood of tears soaks TK’s shirt.

“Nothing. You don’t need to do anything, baby, you just …” TK cups his cheek, gently nudges Carlos’s head up so their blurry eyes can meet.

TK’s are red rimmed and his cheeks are blotchy, and Carlos is sure his own face is covered in mucus and wetness and shame. He aches down to the marrow of his bones with the fact that he can’t ever remember his father being sweet and silly with him. Carlos would give everything – every penny in his bank account, anything else the universe wanted to steal from him – to replace his memories of years of quiet disapproval and unspoken disappointment with the version of his father who spoke in a terrible Australian accent to make Carlos laugh. He wants to buy a fireproof safe to keep that VHS tape in so that he can watch it every day for the rest of his life, and he wants to drop it onto the sidewalk outside and smash it to bits with a hammer so he never has to watch it again.

He wonders when it stopped, when Gabriel turned stoic and serious and withholding. He wonders if it was all in his head, if he can’t even trust his own memories because they’ve been warped and twisted by too many years of his own insecurity – everyone is so insistent that his father loved him, so maybe Carlos is the problem, if he can’t seem to remember a time when that felt true. Maybe he wasted the only years he’d ever get on pride and stubborn arrogance, and now his papá is gone.

“Do you remember the night my mom died?” TK asks.

Carlos nods miserably. Neither of them will be at their wedding. The thought scrapes away at his insides.

“We sat right there, right on that couch, and you held me while I sobbed. That’s what we should do.”

“It won’t make anything better.”

“No. It won’t.” TK kisses the damp side of his face. “But neither will anything else, right now. So just let me be with you while it sucks. We’re soulmates, remember?”

The word unzips Carlos even further and he feels his face crumpling, tipping forward so his forehead bumps painfully into his fiancés.

“Say it,” TK urges gently.

“You’re my soulmate,” Carlos repeats, the words feeling monotonous and not tasting as sweet as they should.

“You’re the love of my life. I’m so heartbroken that you’re hurting this much. I can’t take it away but I can hold you. Please let me.”

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @lemonlyman-dotcom @whatsintheboxmh

@bonheur-cafe @reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @fitzherbertssmolder @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh

@captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@ditheringmind @emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[faster-faster-aster]

Gold and Gravel ~2k words, marcnaia immediately post-Aragon 2024

Pecco has been watching the patch of sunlight on the wall of his motorhome change shade and shape for the last several hours. White fades to gold; the rectangle slants into a diamond as the sun slants towards the horizon. Good, he thinks. The sooner it sets, the sooner he can set this wretched weekend behind him. 

If he closes his eyes, strains his ears to listen, he can still hear the cheers and chants of Marc’s fans. It’s not so loud, anymore— the roar giving way to a low and distant rumble, like thunder on the horizon. Going out like the tide, washing into the streets of Alcañiz. It will go on all night, he is sure of it. And maybe if things were different he’d be celebrating too— if he’d taken Acosta’s place, or better, Martin’s— if he had shared the podium with Marc again. Alex could have joined them too, but that possibility is gone now. Buried in the gravel, crushed somewhere in the mess of metal and limbs. 

Pecco shudders. Shifts the ice pack on his shoulder that has long since melted. It’s not his fault, he knows. The stewards said it wasn’t, laid the blame evenly between them— but the guilt creeps in all the same. At very least he was too harsh on Alex after the race. He’d meant it then— hurting and angry and embarrassed—  he wouldn’t say it now. 

Because if he were better, he would have known not to take the risk. If he were better, he’d deserve the title he may as well have handed to Martin. If he were better, he wouldn’t have been battling Alex at all— would have been running at the front. Fighting with Marc, maybe, like they had three years ago. 

He sighs. Maybe if he were better he would be able to rein in his thoughts, wouldn’t be sitting here spinning his wheels and going nowhere. He’ll be up all night, at this rate, unless Carola comes and drags him to bed. 

There’s a knock at the door. Pecco winces as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. It’s probably Bez, he usually likes to stop by after a bad race, so he heaves himself the rest of the way up, walks stiffly to the door and opens it. 

And stands there, blinking in surprise, because— it’s Marc, on the other side of the door, one hand fiddling with his watch. 

It takes at least a minute for Pecco’s brain to reboot. When it does, all he’s able to say is a quiet, questioning, “Uh, hi?” because— this is the last place Marc should be, today. 

“Hi,” Marc says. “Can… can I come in?” he asks, a moment later, and Pecco realizes he’s been blocking the doorway. 

“Yeah, of course,” he says, stepping aside. 

He follows Marc in, goes to the counter and sits on it. Marc leans on the table opposite him— Pecco watches as he glances over, as he frowns at the ice packs on the shelf by the couch, the half-empty packet of ibuprofen. 

The guilt washes over him like a wave again, pools cold and heavy in his chest. The only reason why Marc would come here, when he should be off celebrating somewhere with his team, is because of the crash. Because of what Pecco had done to his brother, what he’d said about Alex afterwards. Marc must be here to bite back. Harder, Vale had said, now that he’s seen Pecco bleeding. And Pecco doesn’t want that— can’t stomach any cutting words from Marc when he’s heard them enough in his own head. 

Marc opens his mouth but Pecco speaks first, ducking his head as he does. “If you’re here about Alex, I’m sorry,” he says, and it feels too much like baring his neck for slaughter, but he continues. “I was upset, hurting; the interview, what I said, I meant it then— but not anymore. I know he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Pecco,” Marc starts, but he just shakes his head. 

“And I— it was a stupid move. Too risky. Another lap and I could’ve caught him anyways, it was my mistake.”

“Pecco, I—” Marc starts to say again, but Pecco presses on. The longer he’s talking, the longer Marc isn’t— the longer he can delay the inevitable. 

“I’ll apologize. Next chance I get, I will— I will walk it back. I don’t want to make trouble for him.” And that’s all he has to say— all his cards laid on the table. He clenches his jaw, grips the counter with white knuckles. Braces for the bite. 

But Marc’s voice is soft as he says, “Pecco, look at me,” and it’s so unexpected— what can he do but lift his head?

Across from him, Marc is standing in the patch of sunlight he was watching earlier. It paints gold over the planes of him, his face, pools warm and honey-rich in the dark of his eyes. Catches in his hair like a glowing halo. Winning looks good on him— there is a weightlessness, an ease to him now that Pecco has never seen before, only marred by the concerned slant of his brow. 

“I appreciate it— you should apologize to Alex,” Marc says, slow and measured, “but that is not why I am here.”

“Then why?” Pecco asks before he can stop himself. “You should be celebrating, no?”

“No, actually. We are leaving for Madrid in an hour— no time.”

Pecco must look confused because Marc waves his hand in a vague gesture and says, “Eh, I’m too old for all of that now. Maybe in a few years you’ll understand.”

Pecco just shakes his head. Doesn’t want to think about being Marc’s age, having to endure the same things he has. “You look— you looked fantastic all weekend,” he says instead. “On the bike,” he clarifies. “Even if it were just a few drinks, you would deserve it.”

He watches Marc’s reaction closely, half-hoping the praise will catch him off-balance like it does to Pecco. But Marc just smiles at him, all relaxed lines and incandescent teeth, and Pecco is the one knocked unsteady. 

“Eh, maybe,” Marc says. “But look at you, distracting me again.” 

Pecco just blinks at him. If he’s not here about Alex, or to fish for congratulations, then why the fuck is he here?

He must be making a face, because Marc laughs, shakes his head, and says, “Pecco, I came here to check on you.”

“What?” Pecco breathes, feeling like he’s suffocating under the bike again. Because that— that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not who Marc is, not ruthless or cunning like Pecco has come to expect. Surely it’s just another mind game. 

But Marc sounds entirely genuine as he says, “The crash— I saw on the replay. It was bad for Alex but it looked worse for you.” He winces as his eyes flick down to the collar of Pecco’s shirt, where the bruising edges its way up his neck. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Pecco shrugs. “It could have been worse— my helmet did not catch on the tyre,” he says, slow and measured, trying not to give too much away. “Both of us walked away from it. No broken bones.”

“That’s always good,” Marc says with a knowing look. 

There’s a beat of silence between them. Marc seems unsatisfied, somehow, waiting for more— and maybe that’s the game, Pecco realizes. Offer a bit of vulnerability, see who flinches first. He hasn’t made a good counter to Marc yet, but he can. 

“Still fucking hurts, though— I am very bruised,” he says. “Do you want to see?”

Marc perks up at that. “Sure,” he says casually, but the way he leans forward belies his interest. 

So Pecco hops down from the counter, turns his back to Marc, and shucks his shirt off over his head, wincing as the movement strains his sore muscles. 

He doesn’t dare look at Marc, but he hears his sharp intake of breath, how the table shifts as he stands. “Shit, Pecco,” he hisses as he steps closer and then— 

Marc’s hand brushes the curve of Pecco’s shoulder blade, feather-light, testing. The sensation sings up his spine, sets him alight— he only just suppresses the urge to shiver. Because he knows what Marc must see, the pale skin of his back mottled purple from neck to tailbone; he’d caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and had to look away immediately, feeling ill. He’d hoped Marc would do the same.

But he seems to have no such reservations. He splays his hand out over the bruise, gently probing with his fingers. It feels— it feels good, Pecco thinks, the warmth and pressure like a soothing balm over the ache. He had tensed up, when Marc had touched him, but he relaxes into it as Marc rubs little circles down his spine. Then he reaches the small of Pecco’s back, where the skin is flushed pink, raw and irritated. It stings when Marc touches it, little jolts of pain, but then he presses down—

“Ah, fuck,” Pecco hisses, flinching away. “Gentle, please…”

“Sorry,” Marc says, and Pecco looks over at him, needs to know if that was intentional or not. But Marc does look genuinely contrite, brow furrowed in concern as he studies Pecco’s face. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, reaching out to rest his hand on Pecco’s shoulder. “That is— that is not a bruise, is it.”

“No, it’s not,” Pecco says. “It is a burn, from the exhaust— got me through the leathers.” 

Marc makes a small sound, low in his chest, eyes flicking back up to Pecco’s face. Before he can react, Marc is sliding his hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down into a hug. 

And he’s caught completely off-balance, again, stands there for a moment before it occurs to him that he should reciprocate. So he winds his arms around Marc’s back, feels him stroke a hand down his spine. Marc is so warm, pressed to him front-to-front like this— what can Pecco do but tuck his head into Marc’s shoulder, melt into him like honey, golden and sweet? 

He doesn’t want the moment to end, but all too soon Marc is stepping away, trailing his hands to rest on Pecco’s arms. “I am glad you are okay,” he says, looking up at Pecco wide-eyed and earnest, and he— he believes him, Pecco realizes, rocking him like a punch to the gut. 

But just as quickly Marc’s face relaxes again, into that easy, winning smile, as he says, “Rest well for Misano, yeah? When I said I wanted to share a garage with the world champion next year, I meant it.”

Pecco can feel his face flushing, shakes his head and says, “Okay. If only so I can beat you next weekend.”

Marc laughs and lets go of Pecco, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t push it,” he says, mock-scolding. He heads for the door— Pecco has half a mind to offer him a drink or something, get him to stay a little longer, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he just says, “Congratulations, Marc. You were incredible.”

Marc opens the door, looks back and smiles at Pecco one last time. “See you on Thursday,” he says, and then the door is swinging shut behind him. 

The latch clicks, and it’s like a spell has broken, leaving Pecco standing there blinking in confusion. Because— he buries his face in his hands and groans, loud and long— what the fuck possessed him, to make him act like that? Marc must have laid the trap, somehow, and Pecco blundered directly into it. There’s no way he’ll be able to rest— he’ll be up all night thinking about warm hands grazing his shoulder, about deep brown eyes looking up at him with open, genuine concern. 

But it wasn’t genuine, Pecco knows, it wasn’t anything real. Just another mind game— so why, he thinks, does he wish it wasn’t?

[dullgecko]

>>my bad kids overstimulation hcs<<

gorgug and adaine both get extremely scared when there's a loud noise. they will scream if they're caught off guard.

Fig needs COMPLETE QUIET in order to focus on her work (which is why she's failing since she refuses to stop listening to music for anything)

Fabian almost never gets overstimulated, so when he does the floodgates open and it's ALL THE EMOTIONS

all of the bad kids HATE talking to strangers. They've gotten better at it through their quests but when they're tired they still revert back to their default settings. (fabian, gorgug and kristen don't HATE it, but still don't like it) but they all deal with it in different ways

Adaine just freezes and goes semiverbal. Mostly nods and headshakes, Kristen covers for her by excessively talking and saying things she... maybe doesn't mean.

Fig gets REALLY aggressive and just starts thinking of MURDER. If she's silent, she's thinking about murder

Kristen wasn't really allowed to stim in their house because their parents would accuse her of faking mental illness (or insinuate Helio could heal them) so now (especially when they're overwhelmed) Kristen cannot stop stimming.

Every. Single. One of them has PTSD to some degree or another. Comes with the territory of being an adventurer and having to deal with some really fucked up stuff on the regular.

Adaines dad used to slam his hands on tables or slam doors shut when he was mad. It always triggered a panic attack instantly and he would berate Adaine and make it worse before storming off and leaving her to suffer alone.

Loud noises in Gorgugs house always meant that something had gone wrong in his parents workshop. He was in the room once when something exploded and his dad got pretty badly burned. Digby was healed up almost instantly but it's a pretty formative memory for Gorgug and he still doesnt like loud noises all that much.

Fig needs quiet to zone in but feels anxious without background noise so listens to music anyway. If she didnt have music playing in her room when her horns first started showing she could hear her parents arguing downstairs so the music was mostly to drown them out. She finds it easier to focus if she's listening to something quiet without lyrics so her 'do work now' playlist is all instrumental.

Fabian can get overstimulated by tight clothing or being restrained. Reminds him too much of falling in Leviathan and getting tangled up in all the washing lines. Especially doesnt like things tight around his throat because of how close a couple of them were to choking him. Tried to wear a turtleneck when it was cold once, lasted about two hours before he took a pair of scissors to the neckline of the sweater in a panic to get it away from his throat.

They try to keep their interactions with strangers to a minimum if possible. If they're specifically there to ask questions and get answers it's Rizs job (with a couple bardics thrown in to cover for his terrible charisma score) because he can do an interogation better than anyone else. Plus he's good at telling when people are lying to him. Otherwise it's Fabian and Fig who are the ones in charge of talking (though they tend to get very off topic if not given a specific goal).

They gave Kristen one of those spinny rings to wear when they noticed she would pick at her skin when overwhelmed. It gives her hands something to do so she doesnt hurt herself.

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym AU Wip (Part 16)

After Sanji’s nosebleed stopped, they finished eating in silence - both a little lost in their own minds. Zoro thought about the possibility of Sanji getting a nosebleed because of him and not because of high blood pressure. Sanji, on the other hand, thought desperately about anything different than Zoro, saying he has a vagina paired with his very hot body! Fuck he always knew he was into guys, too - maybe even more than into women. But if a guy had a vagina? He felt the tickle of another nosebleed and thought about dead dog puppies and sad things like that to stop it.

“What’s for dessert?” Zoro asked with an impatient smile.

Sanji looked up. Fuck him; if he were a bit more confident, he’d say “me”. But he couldn't…He couldn't say that, right? He didn't even know if Zoro was into him.

“Vanilla ice creme with hot Raspberries, if you want? Since you don't like sweets too much, I thought the sourness of the Raspberries would be a good pair with the ice cream.”

“Never tried it, so why not?”

Sanji beamed at Zoro, and honestly, that was enough to endure a bit of sweet food. Zoro helped put the dirty plates into the dishwasher and sat down on the bar chair again. He already loved watching Sanji cook - even if he just heated a bunch of frozen Raspberries. He took out two fancy-looking bowls and put the ice creme into it - topping it off with the Raspberries. They took the bowlers over to the table again and sat down. Sanji’s eyes were glued to Zoro as he took the first spoon.

“Aaaand?”

“It's…not as bad as I thought?” Zoro offered - despite the sour Raspberries it was still too sweet for his taste.

“You’re a bad liar!”

“I just don't want to make you feel bad.”

“Thanks for that,” Sanji smiled. “If you want, you can leave this for me and take the rest of the Raspberries.”

“You sure?”

Sanji nodded, and Zoro pushed his bowl over to him. After that, he went to the kitchen again and grabbed the pot with the warm berries. Coming back over, he heard Sanji snort and look at him unquestioningly.

“Seems to be delicious when you can't even get another bowl but eat straight out of the pot.”

“Am I not allowed to?” A tint of red colored Zoro’s cheeks.

“You are! I just found it funny, that’s all. To me, it’s just such a single live behavior to do that. You don't worry about a plate just because it seems unnecessary to dirty it if the pot is already dirty, and you can also eat out of it.”

“That is exactly what I tried to explain to Nami for years!”

“Well, you don't have to explain it to me.”

They both smiled and ate in comfortable silence again. It was Sanji breaking the quiet atmosphere with a blurred-out question that made his face red as a tomato only a second later.

“Are you single?”

Zoro choked on a spoonful of Raspberries and started coughing.

“Sorry! I shouldn't have asked out of nowhere! You don't have to answer! Sorry!” Sanji’s voice became more and more shrill as he spoke.

He shot up from his chair, his face now completely red, took the two bowls, and headed to the sink. Busining himself with washing the dishes as Zoro stared holes into his back while coughing.

“I…” Zoro rasped, clearing his throat a few times - choking on Raspberries wasn't pleasant; it stung and burned.

“You really don't have to answer,” Sanji said again.

Why did he even ask? The possibility of Zoro being in a relationship was so high! He didn't want to hear that he was taken. Not knowing at least meant he could pretend that this was a date. A bit fucked up, but that was what his mind was set on since Zoro agreed to come over and let Sanji cook for him.

“I am.”

Zoro’s voice came from behind but not from way back at the table. He stood behind him, Sanji realized. What did he say?

“Hm?” Yeah, such a brilliant way to ask him to repeat his words…

“I said I am, Curly. I’m single - for a while now, actually.”

“O…kay…Great…” Sanji blurred out - again without really thinking about his words. “I mean, not great! I’m sorry! Should…should I be sorry?”

Zoro chuckled behind him, and Sanji blushed an even deeper red.

“Sorry, I’m not good at this…fucking shit, this is so embarrassing…”

“I think it’s cute,” Zoro laughed - his voice even nearer to Sanji than a second before.

Sanji felt his heart taking a leap, and he felt breath ghosting over his hair. Shit, Zoro was standing close. Another breath, and he shivered so much that one of the bowls slipped out of his hand and splashed water onto his shirt as it fell into the sink.

“What about you?” Zoro asked casually.

“W…what?” His brain seemed to be turned off.

“Are you single?”

“Yes…”

Another breath, a deep one directly at the back of his head. Hell, what was Zoro doing to him?! His whole body shook, his heart seemed to want to break his ribcage, and his cheeks were burning like on fire.

“Good,” Zoro said. “Otherwise, this would be a bit awkward.”

“What do you mea…”

Sanji swallowed the rest of his question as Zoro’s arms wrapped around his body. He could feel his face pressed against the back of his head, inhaling deeply. A low sound - almost like a grumbly purr - came from Zoro and made Sanji shiver. At first, he was stiff as a plank, but he relaxed quickly and let himself sink against Zoro’s body.

“Go on a date with me, Curly?”

“I…”

“Please?”

Sanji wanted to tell him that, at least for him, this was already a date. But maybe it wasn't for Zoro? He didn't say anything about it, just smiled as he felt Zoro’s hand softly brushing over his belly.

“Yeah, I’d love to do that.”

Prev/next

First part

[elysiaheaven]

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿..? -𝟯𝟬-(The Fox's Wedding)-End ?

The day came when you were supposed to be discharged. The room was quiet, the air still, when Bailu entered, her small figure barely making a sound. She approached your bed, eyes bright with hope. "Are you awake?" she whispered, peering closely at you.

But before she could get a proper answer, your instincts took over. Panic swelled within you, and without thinking, you tore yourself from the bed and ran. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you couldn’t stay. Not like this.

Later, Feixiao received word that you had disappeared. She listened carefully as the messenger explained what had happened, her expression calm yet unreadable. "So, she ran away again…" She leaned back, arms crossed, her eyes narrowing in thought.

One of the knights beside her shifted uneasily. "Should we send someone after her, General?"

Feixiao shook her head slowly, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "No… let her be for now. Y/N needs to decide what she wants for herself today. Maybe this is her way of finding her answer."

She gazed out of the window, her mind heavy with concern but understanding. "Sometimes, people need to run before they can face the truth."

Jiaoqiu sat in his recovery bed, the faint light from the window barely making a difference to his sightless eyes. His once sharp gaze was now a thing of the past, but his other senses were heightened. He could feel every shift in the air, hear the softest rustle of the leaves, and, more importantly, he could sense the emptiness in the room—your absence.

Rayne had just delivered the news, her voice hesitant, as if she were unsure how to tell him that you had run away.

He tilted his head slightly, a small, weary smile forming on his lips. “Such a devious little kitsune…” he said, his voice low but filled with a strange affection. “Always slipping through fingers like sand.”

His hand lifted to his face, tracing the bandages over his eyes. Even though he couldn’t see, he felt you in his mind, as if you were still lingering close, as if you were just out of reach. He knew you ran because you were scared, perhaps even ashamed. But he didn’t blame you. How could he? He understood the pain you carried, the burden of your existence.

“You’ll come back to me,” he murmured softly, his voice carrying a certain patience, as if he had all the time in the world. “It will take time… but you will.”

He leaned back into the bed, sighing deeply. There was no rush. He had been through so much already, and so had you. You were both scarred in ways no one could truly understand, but he wasn’t worried. You would return, as you always did, like a fox returning to its den.

“Feixiao tells me you’re healing… slowly, but surely,” Jiaoqiu continued, as though speaking to you directly, despite the distance between you. “Maybe you’re out there… running, hiding. But I know you’re trying to find yourself.”

He smiled again, the expression soft but full of understanding. “I’ll wait. We still have time.”

He rested, his thoughts wandered to the letter you had written, the words you had left for him. He had not been able to read them himself, but he had heard them—your voice, so full of emotion, so full of something he couldn’t quite place. He clung to those words, knowing that they were his connection to you, a promise yet to be fulfilled.

“Come back when you’re ready,” he whispered, closing his eyes, sinking deeper into the quiet darkness. “We still have so much to say… and so much more to live for.”

A few days passed.....

It was confirmed...Jiaoqiu's eyesight can't be cured. Even if it's cured it would be only temporary plus, these are not advised for long-term species..

And he was unfortunately a foxian.

Feixiao met him, As he was hearing the sound of waves to...give him her promise.

An eye for a eye.

Jiaoqiu's mind was filled with something else too.

You.

"General, Can you..tell about her...medical report?"

She hesitated but Jiaoqiu wanted to know everything in full detail.

Feixiao read from the health report, her voice growing heavier with each passing line. She described the extensive damage: deep cuts, wounds that had left marks of immense suffering. Each detail was a testament to the severity of the injuries and the relentless pain endured. The gravity of her words was clear, each one weighed down by her sorrow.

When she reached the section detailing the poison, Feixiao’s voice faltered. The report spoke of the poison’s cruel effect—how it slowly and painfully ravaged the patient’s insides. Feixiao’s eyes filled with unshed tears, her distress palpable as she continued, her voice quaking with the weight of the revelation.

Jiaoqiu's reaction was immediate. His hand went to his head, clutching it as if to steady himself against the crushing realization. The poison’s grim effects had struck him deeply. He looked away, unable to confront the full reality of what Feixiao was revealing.

In the silence that followed, Jiaoqiu asked quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "Did she really take poison too?" The question hung heavily in the air, laden with disbelief and despair. His gaze was distant, lost in a maelstrom of regret and sorrow.

He then turned further away, his expression one of profound self-reproach. His internal struggle was evident, and he questioned in a choked voice, "What kind of man am I?" The question was a desperate plea for understanding, a reflection of his deep-seated remorse over the suffering that had unfolded.

Feixiao's heart ached as she watched Jiaoqiu struggle with the weight of guilt. She took a deep breath and spoke softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within her.

"It wasn't your fault, Jiaoqiu. None of this is on you." She tried to offer him comfort, to lift the heavy burden he was placing upon himself. Her words, however, seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Jiaoqiu remained silent for a long moment, his hands still cradling his head, eyes closed as though blocking out the reality of the situation. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and filled with weariness. "I… I just need to be alone right now, Feixiao. Please." The words came out strained, each syllable laced with exhaustion, as if he had fought this battle a thousand times within himself.

Feixiao hesitated, torn between leaving him to his thoughts and staying by his side. "We haven't found her yet…" she said quietly, her eyes searching for any sign that he had heard her. "But I know she’s out there… watching, somewhere. Stalking. Always watching."

Unbeknownst to them, you were indeed there, lurking in the shadows, watching the entire exchange unfold. Your gaze remained fixed on Jiaoqiu, your heart caught in the same torment that haunted him. Every word, every movement was etched into your mind as you observed from afar, torn between the urge to reveal yourself and the need to remain hidden.

You kept your distance, carefully avoiding being seen, yet your presence lingered like a specter in the background. Watching. Waiting. Stalking.

You couldn’t stay away any longer. Each step forward, though painful, pulled you closer to him. Even though Jiaoqiu could no longer see, he recognized you instantly—your uneven footsteps, the way you groaned quietly with every step, the sound of your labored breathing. It was as if his senses had adjusted to your presence, like he could feel you coming before you even got close.

"You… Where were you?" His voice was soft, heavy with relief, yet tinged with an unspoken worry.

You hesitated for a moment, standing just a few feet away. The pain in your body was nothing compared to the turmoil inside your heart. "I… I couldn’t be here," you whispered, your voice trembling. You started to turn away, wanting to retreat back into the shadows, but before you could take another step, Jiaoqiu’s voice stopped you.

"I’m glad you’re alive," he said, his voice steady, though laced with a sadness that broke you. "But… I was a mistake." His words came out in a breathless sigh. "I promised to protect you, to take care of you, and now look at me. I’m blind… I can’t do anything for you anymore. I can't even look at you to see if you're alright."

He held his head in his hands, fingers running through his hair in frustration. "If I’m such a mistake… if I’m so ugly in your eyes now…Is that why haven’t you hugged me yet?" His voice cracked on the last few words, a vulnerability in his tone that shook you to your core.

That was all it took to break the dam inside you. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you rushed toward him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. You buried your face into his shoulder, sobbing as you clung to him tightly. "Jiaoqiu… I love you," you cried, your words coming out between broken breaths. "I love you… I always have."

Jiaoqiu froze for a moment, as if stunned by your words, before slowly relaxing into your embrace. His hands reached up to touch yours, holding them gently. Even though he couldn’t see, it felt...connected.

You backed away slowly, your hands slipping from his grasp. The warmth of your touch left him, and Jiaoqiu, sensing the sudden absence, whispered desperately, "Without your touch..." His hand reached out blindly, trying to pull you back toward him, but you stepped farther away.

"No!" you screamed, your voice filled with anguish. "It's because of me you ended up blind!" You held your head in your hands, trembling, overwhelmed by guilt. Every part of you ached, not just from your wounds but from the weight of what you believed you had caused.

"Stop blaming yourself," Jiaoqiu’s voice broke through the air, filled with pain, but there was something firm in his tone. "It’s not your fault."

But his words couldn’t reach you. Your mind was spiraling, consumed by the idea that you had ruined him. "No, no, no," you murmured, rocking slightly as tears streamed down your face. And then, suddenly, an idea formed—a desperate, wild idea. You gasped, clutching your chest.

"Jiaoqiu," you cried out, your voice frantic, almost manic. "There’s still time! You can heal yourself... It's not over yet!" Your eyes widened with a twisted kind of hope. "There's still one more day... one more day before the 20 days are up. I’ll ask Feixiao... I’ll ask her to kill me. If she feeds my soul to you, you’ll live! You’ll be healed... You’ll eat again, see again, heal others again!"

You were smiling now, even as tears continued to flow. The idea seemed like salvation, a way to undo the damage, to give him back everything he had lost. You rambled on, the words spilling out as if they were your last lifeline.

Jiaoqiu remained silent, his face unreadable. His lips parted slightly, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and cutting. "You really are the goddess of betrayal," he said, almost bitterly, shaking his head. "You’d sacrifice yourself without even asking... And you think I’d accept that?"

You froze, staring at him through tear-blurred eyes, not understanding, not comprehending why he was rejecting your plan. "But... you could be whole again," you whispered, almost pleading. "You could—"

"Is that what you think I want?" Jiaoqiu interrupted, turning his face away from you, his expression distant, filled with sorrow. "What did you see when you decided I would want to devour the person I love...?"

Your voice cracked as you asked, painfully, "Why are you doing this?" The confusion in your eyes was unbearable, but the weight of his words lingered heavily in the air. "What do you mean by calling me the goddess of betrayal? Am I really that…?"

He sighed deeply, his face filled with sorrow, but he stood firm. "Yes," he said quietly, almost like a whisper, "you are… but not in the way you think."

"Stop," you pleaded, shaking your head, unable to bear the truth behind his words. "Please… stop."

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. "How long are you going to keep betraying yourself?" Jiaoqiu’s voice rose, but it wasn’t out of anger—it was pain. "Your feelings, everything you are… you're betraying it all."

His words struck deep, and you staggered back, trembling. "I'm not… I'm just trying to fix things!" you cried out. But Jiaoqiu’s expression softened into something unbearably sad as he stepped closer to you.

"And if you keep doing this…" he paused, his voice thick with emotion, "you're not just betraying yourself… you’re betraying everyone around you."

He closed the distance between you, and his hand reached for yours, even though he couldn’t see. "Do you really want me to live in agony? To know that the last thing I ever saw was you… in a bloodied, broken version of yourself?"

You couldn’t answer. You felt the weight of his words crushing you.

"I would rather be blind," he continued, his voice now softer, full of a resigned tenderness, "and just listen to you—hear your voice, your heart—than live knowing that you died… for me."

His words shattered you. You choked back a sob, realizing how deeply he felt for you, how much he didn’t want to see you gone. You collapsed, your legs giving out beneath you as tears fell harder than ever. All this time, you had thought sacrificing yourself was the answer, but in his eyes, it was the ultimate betrayal. You hadn’t just betrayed him—you had betrayed the love that still existed between you.

Jiaoqiu knelt beside you, reaching blindly for your trembling form. He pulled you into an embrace, resting his head against yours as you cried into his shoulder. "Please… don't leave me," he whispered, the pain in his voice cutting through every other sound. "I don’t need you to heal me, Y/n… I just need you."

Jiaoqiu, holding you close, felt the weight of your despair. His voice, strained and gentle, broke through the turmoil of your thoughts. "Why do you want to die?" he asked, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on your shoulders. "Tell me."

You sobbed, trying to make sense of the pain and guilt that overwhelmed you. "I killed everyone who trusted me," you cried out. "I couldn't save them. I couldn’t be useful. I couldn't be of any help to anyone."

Jiaoqiu’s grip tightened, his breath hitching as he fought against his own rising anguish. "Stop wanting to die," he pleaded softly. "You deserve to live. More than those who tormented you, more than those who hurt you."

Your cries grew more desperate, your voice raw with emotion. "I'm a mistake. Look at yourself—you're in such a worse state because of me. It's all my fault. I made a mistake, and it’s eating me alive."

Jiaoqiu's expression hardened with determination. "No," he said firmly. "You didn’t do anything wrong. This was my fault, not yours."

He pulled you into a tighter embrace, as if trying to shield you from the weight of your guilt. "You need to understand," he said softly, "if you want to pass away, I will respect that decision. But if there is still a part of you that wants to live…"

He paused, his voice breaking as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was tender, full of unspoken promises and shared pain. When he pulled away, his eyes, though blind, seemed to see into the depths of your soul.

"In that case," he whispered, his voice gentle and filled with hope, "will you still consider living? Will you marry me? Let’s have a proper wedding this time. A good one."

Your tears mingled with his, you gently pressed your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. The intensity of your emotions was palpable, and you took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.

"Jiaoqiu," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion, "if you want to get married, you have to let me take care of you. I need to be there for you, to heal you."

His face a mix of pain and tenderness. "But I might be a chore," he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite the gravity of the situation.

You couldn’t help but let out a gentle laugh, a sound filled with both sadness and relief. "We’re both stubborn," you said, your voice breaking slightly as you continued, "neither of us wants to accept help because we don’t want to be a burden. But maybe… that’s why we’re perfect for each other."

You leaned in and kissed him tenderly, your lips brushing against his with a mixture of love and sorrow. As you pulled back, you saw his ears perk up, his expression softening as he took in your words.

"Let me take care of you," you whispered, your voice filled with both resolve and affection. "If you let me, we can get married. Let's heal together..."

Jiaoqiu’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both took in the moment. The weight of your shared struggles seemed to lift slightly as you embraced, the two of you finding solace in each other’s presence.

You nuzzled closer to Jiaoqiu, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with nervous joy. "Am I still your wife?"

A small, tender smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he replied softly, his voice warm and full of affection.

Overwhelmed, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, holding him as if you’d never let go. The love you both shared felt even more profound now, having weathered the storm of suffering, and found each other again.

With a newfound determination, you tried to stand up, eager to move forward—quite literally—with him. But your legs, still weak from all you had endured, betrayed you, and you wobbled. Jiaoqiu instinctively reached out to catch you, but with his sight gone, he too lost his balance. Both of you fell, landing in a gentle, tangled heap on the ground.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, you both started to laugh, soft chuckles at first, then louder, more genuine. It was a release, a shared understanding of how far you'd come, even if the path ahead was still fraught with obstacles.

"We have a long time to practice, don’t we?" you said, your voice filled with lightness despite the gravity of the moment.

Jiaoqiu smiled, nodding slightly. "Yes, we do. But we’ll get there."

You leaned forward, a playful glint in your tear-stained eyes. "There’s nothing that would make me happier than helping you. It’s my turn now, Jiaoqiu." Your words held a tenderness, a love that ran deeper than any trial you had faced.

You caught his hand in yours, guiding his fingers through your touch, your warmth. You stood, determination in every step, and turned to face him. "Trust me," you said, your voice steady, full of conviction.

Jiaoqiu hesitated for only a moment, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. Then, he nodded, his trust in you complete, his heart open.

Slowly, you led him forward, his steps unsure at first, but with each movement, you both found a rhythm. There was no rush. The road ahead was long, but you were walking it together. You smiled, knowing that now you had the time—time to heal, time to love, and time to rebuild a future where you could both finally find peace.

Bailu carefully wrapped bandages around you, her gentle touch contrasted with the sharp pain you felt. Each layer was a reminder of your struggles, but also of your resilience. The bandages covered your neck, arms, and feet, a protective cocoon that made you feel both vulnerable and strong.

Once she finished, you donned your kimono, the fabric soft against your bandaged skin, a symbol of renewal and hope. You glanced at Jiaoqiu, who stood beside you, his expression calm but filled with unspoken worries.

"Shall we both seek the road of love we lost sight of?" you asked, your voice steady and inviting.

His lips curled into a small smile, one that filled your heart with warmth. "Sounds like a plan," he replied, his voice laced with determination.

Taking his hand, you guided him gently, your fingers interlocking like a promise. With each step, you could feel the bond between you strengthening, a thread woven from shared pain and healing.

Together, you made your way out of the hospital, stepping into the world that awaited you. The sun greeted you, its light filtering through the trees, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace.

You walked side by side, you whispered, "No more shadows, only the path ahead." Jiaoqiu nodded, and you could sense the hope in his heart, echoing your own.

together..

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 50 - Enemy

With Kid successfully rescued, it's time to go find Killer.

Word Count: ~4k

“So, what's the plan then?” Kid asked, chomping on an apple from your very quickly dwindling food stash, “they're gonna wake up and discover I'm gone soon.”

“We need to find Killer,” you replied, “I'm hoping he knows where the others are. Either because that's where he was, or because he's… working with the Shogun.” Kid sighed at your forlorn expression as you curled your knees up to your chin. “Last time I saw him was in the Flower Capital.”

“How far is that from here?”

“About a day’s walk,” you replied, laying out your map for him to see and pointing to the relevant areas, “we're somewhere around here, Heart Pirate base is here, capital is right here in the centre. I was thinking though, maybe we go to Law first, so we can get your seastone off.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Kid growled, “I don't need that smug cunt's help. Kil can pick the lock when we see him.”

“Sure, if he wasn't a whole different person right now,” you sighed, “he's more likely to fight you. We're gonna have to subdue him, maybe bring him back here. Can you carry him with one arm?”

“Aye,” Kid responded confidently, “ye of little faith, I can take him without my devil fruit.”

“It's not taking him down I'm worried about,” you explained, “his fighting is off right now. He's manic and sloppy, I can take him down no problem with my fruit. The problem is getting him all the way back here, keeping him restrained and trying to get him to talk. I don't know what they did to him but they convinced him that we're the enemy.”

Kid examined your face carefully, seeing how lost and defeated you looked. Your expression reminded him of the way you looked after you lost your baby, something was hurting you deeply, that much at least was clear to him, even if he himself was emotionally stunted most of the time. “There's something else bothering you, isn't there?” He pried. You blinked away tears and sniffed, only sparing him a short look before hiding your face between your knees. “Talk to me doll, what is it?”

“I don't even know if everyone else is alive,” you sniffed, “what if Heat is dead? I should have told him I loved him earlier, I shouldn't have made him wait. He could be rotting somewhere for all I know.”

“He knew long before you said it lass,” Kid soothed, pulling you into his lap and resting his chin on top of your hair, “he's alive, they all are, we're gonna find them Yin. Just stay strong. You've done so well on your own, you don't have to suffer on your own anymore, I've got you. We're gonna find everyone.”

“What if we don't?” You cried, “what if we're too late? What if I took too long? What if we can't bring Killer back to his senses and everyone else is dead already?”

“Shhh, shh,” Kid soothed, holding your head against his chest, “I'll have no talk of that, you did everything you could, we're gonna save them. Together. You're not alone anymore, I'm right here Yin, don't cry. You're a Kid Pirate, you've gotta be brave.”

Kid took your face gently in his hand, tilting your chin up with a crooked finger, before running his thumb softly over your cheek to catch a tear as it ran over your scattered purple freckles. “You're not alone,” he said uncharacteristically softly, “let me hear you say it.”

“I'm- I'm not alone,” you sniffed, watching his amber eyes flick between your eyes and your lips, overly aware of how close he was and warm chest against yours. “I'm not alone,” you repeated, softer, almost a whisper as you leaned towards him. He made a quiet grunt as you pressed your lips against his, but he quickly took possession of the kiss, pressing back with a harsh need and forcing his tongue in your mouth. The kiss turned frantic, moans swallowed as Kid fisted his hand into your hair and you rolled your hips to grind against his growing erection.

“Not alone,” you whined, “Kid, I need you.”

“I know baby, I know,” he groaned back, shifting you to lay on your side next to him so he could hitch your leg over his hip, holding your ass firmly so he could grind his clothed length against you. “Gonna help you, gonna take good care of you till we get your boys back, I promise. They'd want me to take care of you.”

Desperate to feel full and distract yourself from the anguish still potentially waiting for you, you pushed Kid onto his back and straddled him. You made quick work of his belts while he groped at your tits, pushing up your shirt and bra to reveal the soft flesh underneath. He squeezed them purposefully to make you release your milk, groaning as a thin line shot out somewhat violently and hit him in the face, which made you giggle a little at his surprised expression. His eyes rolled back as you freed his cock and took it in your hand, pumping him and admiring the precum beading at the tip. You shuffled to squat over him, too impatient and needy to properly prepare your cunt, pulling aside your panties and whining as you sunk down on his length, letting the painful stretch and the pleasure that followed distract your mind from your stresses. Things didn't seem so bad with Kid's fat cock buried in your cunt.

“There you go sweetheart,” Kid groaned as you rode him, “let yourself go, all will be well. Fuck, you're so tight. Good girl, such a good girl.”

Kid's praises made you whine and ride him faster, and you wondered if Killer had shared your pension for praise with him. “S-say it again,” you whined.

“You're such a good girl,” Kid cooed, guiding your hips with his one good arm, the stump of the other moving like it longed to reach out and touch you as well, “such a very good girl, Yin. Doing such a good job taking my cock. Looking after your captain like a good sweet thing. You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“Yes!” You moaned, coil pulling tight far too quickly thanks to his praise, “c-cumming!”

Kid groaned at your walls squeezing around him, his balls tightening as he realised it was the first time you'd cum on his cock, and it drove him wild. You were trying to come down from your orgasm but he began to piston up into you, making you scream as your orgasm seemed to continue on forever. “Good girl, good girl, good girl,” he chanted before making an animalistic roar and unloading inside you. The moment he stilled you collapsed against him, panting into the scarred crook of his neck, his hand still on your hip, his grip a little lighter now, keeping you sat where you were to warm his cock.

“Do you think they'll hate me?” You whispered. Post nut clarity was a real bitch.

“Who?”

“Killer and Heat,” you clarified, “do you think they'll hate me… for sleeping with you.”

“Not a chance,” Kid soothed, pressing a hard kiss into your hair, “they know you sweetheart. They know your heart is theirs. This is just a comfort. They won't hate you for just trying to feel a little comfort after all you've been through.”

“Okay..” you resigned, not entirely convinced but trying hard to trust your captain.

“Don't sweat it Yin,” Kid insisted, “you're okay, everything is gonna be okay. I'll tell them myself if you're worried about it. I promise they won't care.”

“We should get going soon,” you sighed, letting his softened cock slip from inside you and rolling off him, “it's a day's walk to the capital, we should get moving.”

“Yin,” Kid crowded behind you as you gathered your things into your duffle, stilling your frantic movements with a firm hold on your arm, “we're going to find them. When have I ever let you down?”

You let him pull you into a tight hug, his arm rubbing your back soothingly while your arms struggled to wrap around his thick waist. “I know captain,” you sniffed, “I'm just so worried.”

“Let's get going then, aye?” Kid suggested, giving you a reassuring pat on the back before separating himself, “let's go put those worries to rest.”

You slipped your visor on with a nod and threw your duffle over your shoulder, then you led your captain out of the crumbling shack, onwards to find your friends and lovers.

Your biggest concern right now was how to stay unseen and avoid fights on your way to the Flower Capital. Until now you'd been travelling under the cover of night, when you were at a visibility advantage and it was easier to hide. But with the guards at Udon no doubt having discovered Kid's escape by now, the two of you couldn't afford to stay still for any longer than necessary. You'd both allowed a few hours for a nap, but the sun was now risen, and soon there would likely be Beast Pirates out searching for the missing captain. You couldn't wait till nightfall, you had to keep moving, but that left you both exposed.

Some of the Beast Pirate Gifters were able to fly, and would spot you from a distance, especially now that they were no doubt actively searching. That left travelling under tree cover as the best option, though it would greatly slow the journey, and not all of the route had trees to hide under. You could use your devil fruit to cloak, but it would need to be used sparingly to conserve your energy in case it came to a fight, and you had no way to hide Kid's seastone cuff. If the two of you got caught out with nowhere to hide, the floating cuff would stick out like a sore tooth.

The best option, after checking with the map Kin’emon had given you, was to take a longer route via the neighbouring region of Hakumai, instead of going directly to the Flower Capital. It would take longer, but you would still hopefully make it before night. After that the plan was to search the capital after dark, being that it was the most likely time for Killer, or rather, Kamazo, to appear. The plan was less clear after that, but you hoped you would be able to disable him again so that Kid could carry him somewhere he could be bound, until you both figured out how to fix him. Or at the very least get information out of him so you could find where they were keeping the rest of the crew. You weren't keen on giving Killer another concussion, a man could only take so many knocks to the head before it resulted in permanent damage, or even a death-inducing brain bleed, but if it came to it you didn't have much choice.

The two of you made your way under the treeline, Kid refusing to let go of your hand. He felt responsible for you, as more than just a captain. He felt a responsibility to look after you on behalf of his best friend, and his long time friend Heat. Kid knew how sad and stressed you were, so he was trying to do what he thought they would do in this situation. He was no good with dealing with feelings but he was trying his best, and not to be too humble, but he thought he was doing a pretty good job. You appreciated his effort though. After more than a month on your own, a simple thing like having a warm hand in yours gave you a great deal of comfort. Just knowing you weren't alone anymore did a lot to soothe your anxiety and give you hope.

“How much further?” Kid huffed as he stomped along behind you.

“Why, tired already, captain?” you teased.

“Oi, some of us have spent the last month in a labour camp,” Kid scowled, before quickly remembering you hadn't had things much better, “Sorry, I'm fine to keep going for now, I was just curious.”

“It's still a few more hours, I think,” you hummed.

“You think?”

“I didn't have to take the long way last time,” you sighed, “have some patience, Eustass. This country is fucking crawling with Beast Pirates, and some of them can fly. We have to stay hidden.”

“Fine, whatever,” Kid grumbled.

The edge of the treeline came into view as you worked your way through the brambles, and you pressed your spare hand against Kid's chest to indicate for him to stop, the two of you squatting behind a bush. You adjusted the settings on your visor, searching for any nearby sounds or heat signatures that would indicate enemies. The next treeline was a good five hundred metres away, it was a decent distance to go without cover, so you needed to be extra careful, making sure to scan the skies as well. A group of warm bodies heading your way caught your attention, making you glad you'd taken the time to stop and check.

“Incoming,” you whispered, “big group of them, prisoner escort on their way to Udon I think, I can see one with shackles on.”

The two of you hid in the bushes, thankfully with no need for your devil fruit with the thick foliage, you could only hope that there would be nobody with good observation haki among the group. Even if you cloaked the two of you, you couldn't mask against decent haki. You heard Kid take a deep breath and hold it as the group came into view, maybe you should have warned him you'd masked sounds, to keep any accidental rustling from giving away your positon. Based on their clothing you could see they were all Beast Pirates, led by one on horseback, who dragged behind him a prisoner led by a long chain. Your breath hitched as you saw who they had, grabbing Kid's forearm and gripping it with a strength that told him something was very wrong. He hadn't seen him yet, or perhaps hadn't recognized him, given how wildly different he looked, and even moved, compared to the man Kid had been raised by.

“Killer,” you said in a hushed tone. Kid's brows, or lack thereof, shot up, amber eyes flicking between you and the blonde being forced to walk behind them.

“You're sure?” Kid replied with gritted teeth.

“One hundred percent,” you stammered. Kid made a move like he was going to stand, and you gripped him harder. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Freeing him,” Kid growled.

“And how are you gonna do that?” You hissed back, “you're unarmed, literally, without your devil fruit. All you've got is me and I'm just as fucking exhausted as you are. I don't have the energy to take that many. Not to mention we don't know if Killer will fight them or us. We're outnumbered, it's better to let them take him and free him later.”

“Fuck that,” Kid growled, “they're not taking him to that shit hole. I'll fight them on my own if I have to.”

“Kid! Don't!” You pleaded, “look, they have guns, even if you can take them hand-to-hand, you can't do shit if they shoot you. You're strong but you're not fucking bulletproof.”

As you argued with your captain the group got closer, the two of you turning to watch as Killer walked by. He stopped for a moment, staring directly at the bush where the two of you were hiding, and you knew full well that his haki told him the two of you were there. The horse-mounted pirate tugged at his chain, forcing him to continue, and he threw back his head and laughed as his feet moved again. It wasn't a happy laugh. It wasn't a laugh that said ‘my crew are here, and they're going to free me’. No, it was all pain, mixed up in his brain by the defective SMILE fruit, his true emotion was only fear and hopelessness, you could sense it in his brainwaves. Your chest felt tight watching him walk, and Kid made a soft growl beside you. There was no doubt in his mind now that it was his friend, and that something was very wrong with him. Killer never laughed out loud around strangers, let alone enemies. He hated his laugh more than anything, suppressed it except in the presence of those he loved and trusted most. Everything you'd told Kid was true, as much as he hadn't wanted to believe it, and if it weren't for his bubbling rage, he would have cried.

Kid moved to stand once again, pushing you away when you tried to stop him. “Kid, please,” you begged, “listen to reason, you can't help him right now, they have too much advantage.”

“Who's the captain here?” He bit back, “either you're with me, or you're against me. You're gonna help me free him, or you're gonna stay the fuck out of my way.”

“Kid, please!” you shouted, glad for your power masking the sounds of the argument, “you're just going to get us both captured!”

“Then don't fucking come with me,” he growled, “stay here like a fucking coward.”

Tears welled in your eyes as your hand dropped away from him. His heart hurt seeing your expression fall, but his anger was still in control of him. It always was when Killer wasn't there to show him there was a better way, only Killer had ever been able to convince him to stop and think. Kid had a one track mind to get his best friend back, and he wasn't going to let anyone stop him, not even you. Which only gave you one choice.

“Kid, please, if they take you again I might not be able to free you this time,” you reasoned, “I can't let you go out there.”

“Let me?” Kid growled. He grabbed your face and pinched your chin between his fingers hard, and you whimpered, immediately going back to that dark place in your mind that you thought you'd never have to return to. The one where every man in power was a threat to you, and you had to behave, or face the painful consequences. “You don't let me do anything, you fuckin’ hear me? You're my subordinate, and you're gonna do as you're fuckin’ told. Or you can find yourself a new crew.”

Something in your brain snapped then, images of Thompson's body under your knife flickering behind your closed eyes. His blood and piss pooling on the floor, the fearful expression on his face, the way he cried out when you cut him. His life draining from him as he choked on his own dick, the light in his eyes fading by your hand. ‘Never again,’ your mind chanted, ‘never again, NEVER AGAIN.’

“Fine,” you spat back, your voice laced with venom, “you can find yourself a new weapon. I'm fucking done. I'll find Heat on my own, you already know full fucking well he'll choose me over you. And as for Killer, you can explain to him for yourself where I am, why his girlfriend and daughter aren't back on the ship. See if he stays by your side after that.”

Kid let you go quickly, shock evident on his face. He didn't think you'd be so quick to quit, he thought he would be able to convince you to help him if he just threatened you. In the blink of an eye he'd ruined the months of trust he'd built up with you, and he immediately regretted it, but it only served to make him angrier. His anger was misplaced though, it wasn't you he was angry at, it was himself, and Kaido for tearing his family apart in the first place. But right now the only person here to receive his wrath was you, and he'd never been good at holding back when he was mad.

Multiple things happened in the blink of an eye. Before you could register it, a seastone-cuffed fist was flying at you, landing square in your gut and knocking the air out of you. You went down hard, wheezing and struggling for air as your arms wrapped around your stomach. In your struggle you groaned loudly, revealing Kid to the enemy, who spotted him immediately. You had the self-preservation to mask yourself with invisibility, but in your anger and pain you decided to leave Kid on his own. He'd made an enemy of you, he wasn't your problem anymore. He insisted he could hold his own, so he could fucking hold his own.

Next came the laughter, Killer turning manic as chaos unfolded, barely masking the two gunshots that rang out. Your vision was blurry as you lay on the ground, but you could see enough to watch Kid go down, a smug smile on your face as he realised too late that you'd been right. As soon as he went down, he knew it was over, as the pirates used the butts of their guns and swords to beat Kid until he was too hurt to fight back, all the while set to the eerie sound of Killer's mania. Your smug smile was wiped from your face as you watched them drag Kid to his feet. A new chain was attached to his cuff, which was then linked to Killer's, and the two of them were forced to walk again.

You laid shell-shocked on the ground, releasing your cloaking as soon as they were far enough, all your energy now going into the harsh sobs that racked through your body as you realised that once again, you were alone. You stayed there until night fell, curled up in a ball with your knees to your chest, wheezing as the sobs agitated your bruised ribs, twigs and stones digging into your side. The temperature dropped and you began to shiver violently, until you had no choice but to get your shit together. You had to keep going, at the very least you had to help yourself, and if not for your own sake then for Dawn's, and for Heat. Even if you couldn't get Killer out of prison on your own, you could at least sneak in and get information out of him, find out where they were keeping Heat and the others, rescue the rest of the crew, and then guide them to rescue Kid and Killer. Once you freed the rest of the crew, your commitment to them would be over, and you would leave with Heat and Dawn. Steal a ship and leave this awful fucking country for good. Maybe Killer would come find you, but you couldn't let yourself hope right now that he would even ever be himself again, hoping would only lead to more heartbreak.

With shaky breaths you struggled to your feet, your mind set. You would go to Udon, but only for information. For now, you just needed to get somewhere safe, and without Kid you could now move much faster, cutting back to your abandoned shack as fast as your legs would take you, relying on your devil fruit to keep you hidden. You ran for what felt like hours, collapsing immediately as soon as you made it inside the dilapidated building, and quickly passing out from exhaustion.

[NEXT CHAPTER] - link soon

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Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055 @eyes-ofhell @luvnisstuff

[maxladcomics]

But HOW does he spell it like that

Nova belongs to @fluo-skeletons

[lovelybucky1]

Oooohh i have a request!:

Playing “never have i ever” or something like that with logan and wade (maybe along the lines of a boring friday night with nothing else to do) and you admit to never having an orgasm by anyone but yourself

Flash forward you’re in logan’s arms and wade is eating the fuck out of your pussy, and then they switch 👀👀

i’ve written something similar two the second part here, but i love the never have i ever idea! // divider from @strangergraphics

boredom isn’t something heroes are used to. there’s always something happening somewhere, someone needing to be saved. but tonight, everything is quiet. the three of you were suspicious at first, but you checked every police scanner, news outlet, and all of your contacts and came up with nothing. the bad guys had decided to take an evening off, and now you were stuck with nothing to do.

you, wade, and logan all sit around in the living room with bottles of beer. you and wade stare at the mindless gameshow on tv while logan rests his eyes. you’re definitely bored, but wade is restless. it’s like he’s itching for something to do, like his body is physically unable to handle the inactivity.

“why don’t we play a game?” wade asks, startling logan awake.

the two of you look over at wade. “what kind of game?” you ask.

“i don’t know, ‘never have i ever?’”

logan rolls his eyes, then shuts them again. he’ll deny any “old man” comments, but he really is one. you elbow logan in the side and he opens them again.

“come on, it’ll be fun,” wade pleads.

“it’s not like we have anything better to do,” you say to logan. reluctantly, he agrees.

you reposition yourselves in the living room. you sit on the couch, leaned against the arm with your feet in logan’s lap, who sits on the other end. wade sits on the floor by the coffee table, his beer on the table without a coaster next to him.

“this is your game, wilson. you start,” logan says before taking a sip of his beer.

“no, don’t drink! you only drink if you’ve done the thing i say,” wade scoffs. how can logan be so old and still know nothing about fun? “okay, okay. never have i ever… gotten arrested.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him while logan takes a drink. you’re almost certainly wade has been arrested before. “i don’t think you’re playing this game right,” you say. “you have to say things you’ve never done.”

wade scoffs. “i haven’t been arrested, thank you very much. all the cops who’ve tried have mysteriously ended up with broken noses.”

you roll your eyes at him. “my turn now? never have i ever… cheated on a partner.”

both of them take drinks, wade with more shame than logan. ugh, men.

then it’s logan’s turn. “never have i ever worn a dress.”

you figure it’s targeted at you, just because logan’s a dick, but to your surprise, wade drinks too. logan raises his eyebrow at him, silently urging him to elaborate.

“you wish you saw that, huh, peanut?” he taunts instead. logan makes a face at that.

“i’m thankin’ god i didn’t have to.”

you play a couple more rounds, all three of you exchanging stories and sipping from your bottles. it takes a lot to get them drunk, but you’re starting to feel it. there’s a collection of empty bottles, mostly beer, but halfway through the game, wade decided to up the ante with some liquor.

it’s wade’s turn again and he says, “never have i ever been with two guys at once.”

he means it as a joke. he doesn’t expect anyone to drink. there’s no way logan would do something like that, and you’re too innocent. that’s why his eyes practically pop out of his head when you throw back the shot.

the game turned sexual a few rounds ago, but it was pretty mild stuff. talk about doing stuff in public, kinks, freaky shit like that. nothing as interesting as this.

both wade and logan turn their full attention to you, eager to hear this story.

“what?” you play dumb.

“two guys at once?” wade asks. you shrug.

“it wasn’t anything.”

“nah,” logan says, sounding interested for the first time all game. “you gotta tell us.”

you sigh. “it was a while ago. i met this couple at a bar and they said they were looking for a third. i had nothing better to do and they were both hot, so…” you trail off, shrugging again.

“give us the gory details. how’d you do it? daisy chain?eiffel tower? double cowgirl? triple spooning? come on, tell us,” wade rambles.

“you’re a fucking perv,” you tell him and he doesn’t deny it. “it was just normal dp.”

logan raises an eyebow. “that stands for double penetration,” wade tells him.

“i know that. i’m just wondering how you took it all,” logan says.

you’re used to this kind of talk from wade. the man thinks with his dick so much that you question if he even has a brain. you’re not, however, used to this from logan. he’s no prude, but he usually doesn’t participate in these kinds of conversations with wade.

“must’ve been a tight fit,” logan adds on.

you look between the men and their interested faces. you’re still pretty bored, the game having grown stale a while ago, and now you’re a tipsy. you want something exciting and right now, you’re feeling bold enough to persue it.

“do you wanna see?” you ask them.

wade and logan share a glance, but it only takes a second before they’re replying “yes” in unison.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ CAN I PUT YOU ON HOLD? ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. cunniligus, lil' bit of dirty talk and more... i'm too tired to type it all out </3

author's note: idk personally i wouldn't take that.. but i guess i would if it was satoru. anywaysss enjoy

satoru's a busy man — balancing his responsibilities as a teacher and as a sorcerer is no easy task, but he finds a way to make it work.

anyone who's known him for longer than a minute can easily tell that satoru's committed to his line of work. as much as he complains about it, the truth is that it's one of his top priorities. maybe even the first one.

and you get a taste of just how devoted satoru is when he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. 

"hello?" satoru cooes, eyes focused on your indignant expression as he holds a finger to his lips. "yeah, i'm free to talk. what is it?"

"free to talk?" you mouth at him incredulously. satoru replies with a wink and grins, enjoying the show. you're still pinned underneath him, bedsheets haphazardly strewn across your body, and satoru savors the sight of you all needy and pouty.

"yeah, take your time," satoru says amusedly to whoever's on the other side of the phone after a moment. when you reach up and swat satoru's chest indignantly, he uses his free hand to pin your wrists above your head, a clear warning in his eyes.

after a couple of mhm's and of course's, the conversation still isn't over. your patience is waning — who is satoru to just stop in the middle of fucking you to pick up a phone call and say that he's free to talk?

you try to distract yourself by thinking about the mindblowing sex you were having just minutes ago. the longing, glassy stares; the red scratch marks down satoru's back; and of course you couldn't leave out the words.

"fuck, you're taking me so well, sweetheart." "atta girl, you're a natural slut, aren't ya?" "your pussy was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"

how did that turn into "yeah, make sure the higher-ups know about this, otherwise they'll give me hell for it. mhm"?

after another bland minute, satoru rolls off of you and sits up with his back against the headboard, sheets falling to expose everything from his waist up. 

you whine in impatience, glaring at him like a sullen child. satoru basically just edged you — one second you're about to get to best orgasm of your life, the next you're forced to watch your boyfriend chat on the phone nonchalantly as if he wasn't just moaning your name like a slut three minutes earlier.

satoru shoots a glare at you and pats his lap, pressing a finger to his lips as a reminder to stay quiet.

well then, he shouldn't have picked up the phone in the middle of fucking you.

you scoot yourself into his lap, purposefully positioning yourself so that your pussy just barely rubs against the head of satoru's still-dripping cock.

it's so worth it when you hear satoru inhale a sharp breath and start to squirm under you, somehow both trying to push himself inside but also trying to inch himself away. it's like he can't decide, but the way his face flushes red speaks volumes.

his voice is breathier than normal as he squeezes his watery eyes shut. "yeah yeah, that's perfect. you mind if i put y'on hold for a sec? alright, thanks."

you glance over at satoru as he retracts the phone from his ear and puts it on mute. not even a second later, he's back on you, manhandling you into a position where he can comfortably eat your pussy, a cheeky smile on his lips.

"you think you're so fucking funny, don't ya?" satoru cooes, looking up at you as he eats you out sloppily. a mixture of his saliva and your essence drips down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornworthy. the wail that slips out of your lips when satoru bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of tonguefucking you.

"fuck, you're so lucky my phone's on mute right now," satoru groans, still buried in between your thighs. "god, if my old man could hear you now—"

"your dad's on the other end of the phone?!" you gasp, swatting satoru's head and frantically reaching over him to check if the phone was actually on mute — knowing satoru, it could've just slipped his mind. intentionally.

satoru scowls, muttering a reminder for you to stay still while he eats his dessert before rolling his eyes and grumbling "what does it matter?"

"uh, that's embarrassing!" you whine. when satoru nudges his nose against you again, you reluctantly spread your thighs for him so he can continue his meal. satoru mumbles a thanks, but he doesn't respond beyond that.

"satoru!"

"what??"

"don't you have to finish your call?"

satoru sticks out his bottom lip, fixing his cerulean eyes on you and pouting. "you were just complaining about the call and now you want me to go back??"

"it's your dad, satoru," you groan, pushing his shoulders away from your legs and ignoring his protests. "you don't get any more pussy until you finish that damn call."

"i hate you."

"love you lots, baby."

satoru sighs dramatically and unmutes the call, not bothering to respond to his dad's questions with answers longer than a word or two. after another minute of this, his dad finally hangs up and satoru lets out an elated cheer.

he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. 

"now, where were we?"