#so the idea is that the group have a hard time defeating him because he keeps reforming after they shatter him

[sirenspells]

As much as I like the idea of shattered omori being a silly little guy, regrettably he only appears in amnesiac omori au as an enemy that the group has to fight

[heechwe]

not a bad thing | 𝖍𝖛𝖈

୨୧ pairing: hansol (vernon) chwe x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 6.6k ୨୧ genre: fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: friends to lovers, light drug use, fingering, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, penetration, cockwarming. ୨୧ synopsis: Just because you've been friends for so long doesn't mean Vernon isn't keeping some secrets from you, and you're determined to confront him about it.

“Simple but still cute, or spontaneous and fun?” 

Vernon, sprawled out on his back on your bed, looks up from his phone screen in absolute confusion. He’s wearing a rainbow beanie with his plaid button-up and denim jeans, contrasting your leggings and baggy t-shirt. He always acts unaffected by how good he cleans up when he wants to, but you shake the thought out of your head and wait for his answer. “Come again?” he asks.

You’ve been holding out the red and black cropped, long-sleeve shirts for two minutes for your best friend to see. Maybe he would immediately pick one or take his time deliberating, especially with the cutout in the shirts’ centers meant to reveal hints of cleavage. However, the realization that his attention was stolen long ago by some meme in your friend group’s group chat has you huffing and flinging the shirts at the edge of your bed. 

It isn't the first time you've gotten nervous before a date, and it definitely isn't your first runaround with Vernon being out of touch with both his current and past conversations. Still, you value his advice more than anyone’s. Only you need it in an hour before your date arrives, and he’s being less than helpful. “Pick which one you like, idiot,” you whine.

“They’re literally the same shirt. The only difference is the color,” Vernon retorts. He rolls his eyes and resumes his endless scrolling.

“Exactly! I need to know which color you think I should wear. That way I give off the right impression.”

“And what impression exactly are you trying to give?”

“I don't know! Ready to have a good time but not looking to go too fast. Fuck, if only they had a shirt for that.” You rub your temple, contemplating if going on this date was the right decision.

The day Mingyu offered to set you up with his friend, you had half a mind to shut him down. His insistence on this blind date was too much to say no to, though, and going without any romantic or sexual interests for months seemed to take its toll on your resistance. While Vernon wasn't outwardly against the idea, he decidedly brushed it off with a disinterested hum and didn't mention it once until today.

Once he sees the defeat on your face, he caves, leaving his resting spot to grab you by the shoulders. It’s unsaid, but he practically asks outwardly for you to look him in the eye, so you do. “Listen. This guy is gonna like you no matter what color your shirt is. And you wanna know why?” You shrug, deflated. “Because anyone who can't see how hilarious and gorgeous you are is blind, and we don't hang out with blind people.” Vernon crinkles his eyebrows together and sighs. “You know what I mean. Like, metaphorically blind and shit.” 

You laugh. “Thanks, Han.”

You turn away from him to stare at the two shirts still spread out on the bed. “But back to this. Which color do you like more?”

After waiting a few seconds for his answer, you look over your shoulder. He’s miles away, lost in his thoughts again. The look in his eyes and etches of his face are traced with puzzlement, and when you call his name to get his attention and snap him out of it, it’s still there. No matter how hard he tries to hide it with a tight-lipped smile. “Black. Simple but still cute,” he says, his voice soft as he uses your words from earlier, proving he was still listening. 

Satisfied, you grab the top and turn, ready to make a beeline for the bathroom to get dressed. You stop short when you almost bump into Vernon on your way. It's only then you realize how close the two of you are. Less than a foot apart, to be exact. “I gotta get dressed, weirdo.” You try to sound humorous, but the breath accompanying your words sounds bated and unexpectedly airy.

In that second, all while you trace the outline of Vernon’s lips with your eyes, you wonder if maybe it would be so bad to skip the date altogether and do something else. Anything else. As long as you didn’t have to leave the house or Vernon.

“Right,” he whispers, but has no intention to walk closer to the bedroom door. Slowly, his eyes go a fraction wider than they normally do.

Like a silent cue, he steps away and fumbles over his words. “Okay well, good luck and—Sorry, I just—I’ll see you at Seuncheol’s after. You can tell us how it went. That is if you want to!” He stutters, right as he hits the back of his head against the door.

“Hansol! Are you okay—“

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He takes his beanie off to rub the sore spot. “Don’t worry about me. You don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you later!” He races out of the apartment, mumbling and clutching his head. 

While you curl your hair and put on your favorite pair of jeans for your date, your mind goes back to the look in Vernon’s eyes and the thoughts that raced in your head before he took off. And you speculate about what those two things mean, and if they mean anything at all.

“He didn’t even kiss you? What a dumbass.” Vernon mumbles, grabbing his mocha latte. He takes a vigorous sip, humming at the warmth it brings.

“I know. Now pass me a Splenda packet, please?” You pout. Well-adjusted adults would normally be at home and in bed at ten in the evening. But for you and Vernon, you decide on hanging out in your favorite late-night coffee shop for pastries and cold brew. It was better than sitting around at Seungcheol’s, the usual festivities of weed and alcohol not hitting the same way. You both settled on an alternative to fill your time instead.

“How did it go exactly,” Vernon asks, his voice garbled from the cheese danish he stuffed into his mouth.

“Well, I made it to the restaurant and he was there already, which was nice. But as soon as we started talking about ourselves, he was so flat.”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrow furrow, clearly confused.

“He was just very one-dimensional.”

“How so?”

“I mean, he was either talking about accounting, his accountant friends, or his work projects. Maybe it was better that he didn't kiss me. It might have been as boring as his capacity for communication.” You both share a laugh.

“So, I guess this means you don’t want a boring guy who presses his suits and plays golf on the weekends,” Vernon teases with a grin. You shove him playfully in the arm.

“That’s not the point! I mean, yeah, I don’t mind if a guy is serious, but I want someone who makes me laugh too. Who I don’t have to worry about liking my jokes but also sets a table or buys me flowers once and awhile.” You sigh.

While on your diatribe, Vernon grabbed your vanilla bean frappuccino. In a second, he has your straw in his mouth for a long sip. He smiles when he passes your drink back to you, unapologetic. “Someone who steals your drink for himself?”

You throw a napkin at him in retaliation. “I hate you!”

“Everything okay here, miss?” The barista asks, his name-tag shining against the dim lamps surrounding the cafe.

“We’re all good—Joshua—thank you.” You give him your best smile, to which he flashes his own at you. His teeth sparkle as much as his name-tag does, you think to yourself.

“Just Josh, please. The only one who uses my full name is my mother.”

You two exchange a chuckle, and you notice Vernon is not laughing or smiling at all. His eyes are mere slits, you can barely see the brown in his irises. His mouth follows in the same fashion, but downturned at the corners if anyone was paying close attention.

Joshua hands you a packet of chocolate-covered almonds, and he blushes. “They go really great with the frappes.”

“Oh thank you, but I didn’t—”

“It’s on the house. As long as you keep coming back.” Joshua turns to walk back to the coffee bar, suddenly tense as he leaves you and Vernon at your table.

Looking back to your best friend, you can see why. The original expression on his face has changed to pure anger. Vernon looks like he wants to blip the poor barista out of existence, and his long, hard stare in the guy’s direction might just make his wish come true.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” you ask Vernon directly.

When he turns to look at you, the stone in his expression softens a touch. “That guy seems like a creep.”

“He was just being nice!”

“He gave you a pack of nuts. Who does that?” He scoffs outwardly, and you can’t help but laugh. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Next time a cute guy gives me a snack, I’ll make sure you vet him first.” You wink at Vernon, but he remains hard-pressed. “Come on, don’t be jealous!”

“Of coffee boy? Please.” Vernon shrugs off your comment and crosses his arms. Something unreadable passes over his face for a brief moment. You would ask him about it, but you know the man is anything but overly emotional or easily vulnerable.

You try anyway. “Han, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and gets up to throw away his coffee, half unfinished. “Nothing, I’m fine,” he lies, looking away from you with a cold lilt to his tone. “Let’s get out of here.”

The sound of Vernon’s voicemail causes you to grunt in frustration, the beginning of the message you practically know by heart now. After the stint in the coffee-shop, Vernon walked you home without a word and hasn’t interacted with you since then. After being left on read for the past three days, you are all kinds of antsy. Normally, he would text or call instantly with a reason, but it’s been nothing but silence on his end. Your black phone screen makes you rub your temples. What did you do wrong?

“At this point we should send a carrier pigeon,” Lisa says with a shake of her head. 

“She’s got it bad, babe,” Hoshi comments with a wink in your direction. He kisses Lisa on the cheek on his way to their kitchen. 

When things went wrong, it was second nature to confide in Lisa and Hoshi. Two childhood friends turned dance prodigies and then inseparable lovers? They sounded like the plot of a bestselling romance novel. And admittedly, you wish you could find what they had. Why did you have to encounter so many red flags and road blocks?

“I mean, we all know you’ve been down for him for…three years now?”

“Shut up, Soon!” You exclaim, blushing. “I just don’t know why he’s gone AWOL on me.”

“Maybe he’s in a mood. You know him,” Lisa responds.

“Not like this. This is the longest we’ve ever gone without even sending an emoji to each other,” you say with a frown. You scroll through your conversation, the endless blue bubbles making your stomach sink further.

“He’s gonna be at Wooz’s tomorrow night for that party,” Hoshi says with the slam of the fridge door. You nod your head, already aware. Hoshi smirks. “Corner him there.”

Vernon was closer friends than you were with Woozi, someone you knew in passing because of his relationship with your best friend. But you had been to the guy’s apartment many times before. It wouldn’t be weird to attend, sans Vernon. Right?

“Fuck it,” you think out loud. “Lisa, can I borrow an outfit?”

The party is in full swing by the time you arrive. Chan answers the door with a grin, patting you on the shoulder when you step through the threshold. Woozi and Seungcheol are karaoke battling in Woozi’s living room while the rest of the partygoers are either drinking beer or in circles puffing and passing.

You decline when Minghao tries to hand you his half of a joint, a dopey grin plastered on his face. You want to be sober when you confront your best friend for leaving you in the dark for half of the week, even if you know it’ll take the edge off of your nerves.

When you find Vernon, he’s grabbing a hard lemonade from the spare cooler on top of Woozi’s counter. His eyes, the usual white around his irises pink from the party favors, go wide when he sees you. “Fuck me,” he says out loud.

“Yeah, fuck you is right,” you bite back. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

His mouth is agape, giving no attempt to provide an answer. no answer. You get angrier the longer the seconds go by without one.

“Okay, how about an easier question: Why couldn’t you respond with a thumbs up or something when I asked if you were still alive?”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, another curse leaving his lips.

“Fine. Keep being weird about whatever the fuck is wrong. I wanted to try and make sure my best friend was okay, but he can’t even give me a solid explanation as to why he’s being a dickhead.”

Vernon takes your hand and walks quickly with you in tow. The people you pass move out of his way before they get body-slammed, some of them confused while others are too drunk or high to care. 

When you make it to a bathroom off of the hallway, Vernon closes the door behind you and locks it. He takes a second before turning to you with a solemn expression. 

“We can’t be friends anymore.” The words that leave his mouth break your heart to pieces and steal any semblance of air from your lungs. You didn’t expect to come into tonight and lose a friend, especially when you were unsure of what you did to cause Vernon to feel that way.

Your eyes begin to water with tears, but you don’t let them run over. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I’m saying I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Your voice grows thin. You’re confused how every word from his mouth sounds more sure than the one before while you’re falling apart.

But, even though he keeps up a composed posture, you can tell something inside of him is cracking. His bottom lip is caught in his teeth and his hands are fidgeting, two signs something is bugging him beyond his will.

“Please just tell me what I did wrong and I can fix it. I can’t help make this better if you don’t tell me what—”

In a second, Vernon has your back pinned against the bathroom counter. His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, giving your quick gasp no time to leave your mouth. He swipes his teeth over your bottom lip while his hands roam from your waist to the expanse of your hips. Soon enough, his tongue is inside of your mouth. He holds your neck with one hand while the other sits on the back of your thigh, hitching it up to press your leg against his side. 

He feels the warm skin of your thigh in his palm and the center of your legs against him, making him groan. His touches and the sounds leaving him make you moan in kind into his mouth, and he swallows it blissfully.

When you separate for breath, you look deep into his eyes. Vernon’s expression brims with naked emotions, ones undecorated and unprepared, ones he cannot hide anymore. “If that’s the only time I got to do that when I’ve wanted to for so long, I had to make it count.” His confession should feel like a shock, something you were not ready for and quick to play off as an after effect of the joints he’s been smoking for the past couple hours, but it doesn't.

Instead, you accept it, with open arms and without a first or second thought to the contrary.

You soak in his words willingly, knowing for certain your heart wasn’t just wishing for someone. It was always wishing, comparing, waiting…for him. And now you have him, in this bathroom, terrified you feel anything less than what he feels for you.

Before he can step back, you take his hands in yours to prevent him from taking them off of your body. How could he think you could stop now? “Han, I need you to touch me more,” you whisper.

Vernon drops to his knees and rubs his hands up and down your thighs, his eyes requesting permission to hike up your skirt. Instantly, you nod.

He raises the denim up over your hips, meeting the cotton of your underwear with his mouth. As soon as his lips are on you, the cloth barely separating him from your clit, most of your coherent thoughts become lost to the wind.

Once he takes his fingers and moves your underwear to the side, you know you’re about to lose the breath in your lungs as well. His tongue licks a long stripe up your pussy, taking in the length of you with ease to maximize your pleasure. Your body quakes from how good he is at running his lips and mouth across you. You take in heavy breaths to try and steady yourself, but it’s no use.

Your best friend is eating you out too well and you have no idea how to function properly. You clutch his head with your hand and move your hips in time with the patterns of his mouth. The throes of your orgasm are so close, and it may just break you.

Vernon prods a finger at your walls, and you feel your body shake harder. “Han, I’m gonna come. Please don’t stop.” He hums against you and takes that as the green light to insert the digit completely.

A couple of strokes to the inside of your gummy walls and his tongue lapping at your clit makes you fall apart, whimpering quietly as to not have the people right outside the door hearing you climax.

Coming down, you sigh in pleasure. The sound morphs into breathless laughter. “I love you,” you finally say with a frail tone, but those three words have never been more true than right now.

The smile on Vernon’s lips revealing his gums and teeth is almost too radiant to stare at. It reminds you of butterflies, especially the ones that still flutter in the small spaces of your chest when he looks at you so reverently. Gently, he takes your cheek in his hand and says, “I love you too, pretty girl.”

You don’t leave the bathroom for another five minutes, spending that time in awe of what’s transpired and soaking in the feelings and love you’ve expressed to each other, all while you feel the bass of a Childish Gambino song beat against the bathroom walls.

The shuffle into your apartment is so quick you don’t hear Vernon close the door and lock it behind you. Even though you spent enough time pressed against each other in Woozi’s bathroom, the sticky and sweet feelings coming back to you in flashes, Vernon did not let go of your hand the entire walk home from the party. “It was so cold outside, I’m sure my nose is red.” Looking in the hallway mirror, you frown. “Yeah. I look like a reindeer.” You pout, falling into a fit of laughter. 

Vernon chuckles, releasing his hand from yours to place on your cheek, his fingers oddly warm. He kisses the tip of your nose lovingly. “You’re a cute reindeer, if that helps,” He says. Stepping away from you, he takes off his jacket and places it on the coat-rack. “A few minutes with the heater on and it’ll feel like summer in here.”

“Don’t make me sweat, weirdo.”

“I kind of already did, but noted.” Vernon smirks, and right after the next giggle leaves your mouth, you stop to watch him.

Despite knowing how he tasted and how the timbre of his laughter felt against your neck, you knew those things didn’t compare to the candid moments that made you love him. He didn’t take notice of the squinted shape of his eyes reading his phone screen, or even the press of his hand against your back to make you feel safe. But you did, every instance more clear than they’ve ever been before. They were so minuscule on their own, but when they were all stacked together in every year and tear and smile, it was a wonder how you didn’t know you fell in love with him so long ago. 

You don’t have to tell him you feel that way, though. He can see it in the stillness of your eyes, in the small and tender smile painting your mouth, in the red tint of your cheeks. He has felt the same too many times to count. You claimed his heart for all the reasons he claimed yours. Of course, it took you both almost half a decade to realize it.

He steps closer, a breath separating your bodies. Taking your hand in his, he kisses each finger before pressing his lips to the knuckles. You grin wider and rest your head on his chest. It’s a tiny marvel to feel the steady thrum of his heart against your ear, all the times being strictly platonic. Its tempo is a soft rhythm that has sent you to sleep on multiple occasions during sleepovers and movie marathons. Now, it’s as if the rhythm sounds different, beating with an entirely different meaning. You suddenly feel shy with him this close, the silent actions speaking for themselves.

“Are you tired,” he asks, lips brushing the curve of your scalp.

You shake your head. “No. I’ve never felt more awake.” You look up at him, a realization at the forefront of your mind. While you may have been together all night, and your mutual confession in Woozi’s bathroom was barely two hours ago, it feels like a world away since you last touched him. Intent, charged with what needs to be spoken and doesn’t, too vivid to go unnoticed.

Like the blunt release of a bowstring, it’s a sudden rush of lips gravitating to each other. The sensation is a mix of headiness and affection. In you, it’s the pull of your hands on the brown waves of Vernon’s hair and smiles slipping in between his kisses. For him, it’s the swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip to let him in, let him guide, and the reverence of kisses across your throat saying the words he knows are on your mind because they’re on his too. I love you and I want you and I need you and I don’t know how I’ll ever stop.

You make contact with the heat of Vernon’s skin when his sweater rides up, revealing the dips of his hip bones above the waistline of his pants. You spread your hands up and underneath the material to feel more of him, the warmth you desire, and the home that resides there. In his own desperate fingers, you realize he’s also exploring the places in you where he finds comfort and love.

The two of you stumble into the bedroom, caring almost as little as you did entering the apartment. You’re both so focused on each other the rest of your surroundings seem to be background noise, but Vernon does nod when you mention birth control. The back of your legs knock into the mattress, but you don’t mind with his lips at your neck, kissing and occasionally biting. He detaches his lips from your skin to tug abruptly on the hem of your skirt, wanting it gone. He rests his hands there, the request for permission clear. Once he takes it off, you raise your arms to let him remove your top as well. Once you’re clad in your undergarments, you help him with taking off his sweater in a haste, reaching for him again when the fabric finally falls to the floor. The renewed closeness seems to snap you both from your trance.

Your gaze reaches up to his eyes, and his are filled with patience and adoration. “We don’t have to rush, you know,” Vernon murmurs. He could easily let the time speed past him like he did earlier, certain there will be more moments like this to cherish at a slower pace. However, he can't deny he wants you as close as possible, determined to not let his words or actions go unsaid anymore.

You nod, running one hand against his chest while the other curls around the back of his neck. You place featherlight kisses to the column of his jaw as he unclips your bra. Each clip feels tentatively released, as though he’s slowing the two of you down like he wants to remember every moment. Maybe he feels this will only last until the morning, but little does he know that there's no way anyone or anything could be worth giving him up, not as a friend and definitely not as a lover.

He finally unbuckles his belt with determination and lets the metal clank on the wood floor. The only clothing left between you is your underwear, still damp from your previous activities, and his boxers. Immediately, you wrap your arms around each other when the busy work is finished, a clash of teeth and tongue following. A muddled moan escapes your mouth and reverberates against his throat when his groin brushes yours and his hands find your breasts. He rolls one nipple between his index and thumb while he squeezes your other breast with his opposite hand, teasing your skin with the pads of his fingers. The skin puckers and swells at his ministrations, the sensitivity between your legs growing again, wetness pooling there and leaving you aching.

The mattress dips underneath your weight when you fall onto it. You grip Vernon by the waist, but he only takes your hands away from his body and intertwines his fingers with yours. He’s all gravity, his seriousness palpable. The faintness of a smirk sits on his lips, but he shows no intentions of smiling. His boxers seem to grow tighter against him, but you don’t look away from his eyes. “Come here, Han. Please,” you whisper, spreading your legs wider, in hopes he can see how deep the ache he’s placed in every part of you goes. Vernon kisses each one of your palms before releasing them.

“Show me first. Show me how much you want me.” You bite your lip and use your hands to lower the cotton fabric of your underwear until it comes off. Your right hand trails up your body and lands on one of your breasts, squeezing and testing. No matter how you touch yourself, it doesn’t make up for the feeling of Vernon’s hands on your chest. His breath hitches when you press your opposite hand to your clit, a garbled moan unraveling on your tongue.

You tease yourself in small circles, enjoying the expanse of wetness you feel, and press your thumb to your clit again to make your hips roll. It feels like it should, a nice reprieve from the short time you’ve spent without any physical contact. But the lust-blown color in Vernon’s eyes, turning the brown irises that you love almost black, is what makes raspy sounds of pleasure leave your mouth. You want his hands instead of yours, as well as his mouth and his body on you, but his stare is enough to keep you going for him.

To amplify your torture even more, Vernon tugs at the waistband of his boxers until they fall at his feet, his cock fully erect. With the bottom of your lip stuck between your teeth, you run a finger up and down your slit at the thought of him on top of you, underneath you, and more. You release a whimper when he runs a hand up and down his cock, the tip swollen and leaking pre-cum already. You remain there together, sharing heady gazes and touching yourselves with slow and painfully gratifying motions, suspending all of the tension of the night into the air until one of you drops it. A loud, broken groan escapes him in response to the contact of his hand against himself and your body begging to be touched. If only he would let go and touch me, you think to yourself as you feel a satisfying clench in your belly.

“God, I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he says, the last words catching in his throat.

You stop to sit up and grasp the head of his cock, running your hand up and down the girth to replace his. It causes Vernon’s body to shiver exquisitely, and you revel in the way your touch affects him almost half as much as his affects you. You whisper, “You don’t have to wait.”

Those words prompt him into action, pressing his free hand to your cheek and diving for your lips. The two of you fall flat onto the bed, and when his tongue enters your mouth once again, you can’t hold back. You grind your body against his, feeling the press of his erection at your center. “Please, I want you to fuck me so bad.” In the midst of your arduous haze, Vernon’s mouth turns into a wide smile, one you forgot you could miss so much.

You laugh at the beautiful twinkle in his eyes, lust laced into the sound. “What?”

“Aside from you telling me you love me, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words”—he brushes an index finger along your lips—“come out of your pretty mouth.” You bite on the tip of his finger, and he pulls it away with a smirk. He replaces it with his lips, using his hand to align and direct the head of his cock to your entrance.

He has no desire to rush, though, a slow, languorous push of his hips to press his cock inside of you following a soft kiss to your temple. But with a sudden jolt of his next thrust that makes you yelp in pleasure, you can tell that desire is starting to wane. “Sorry,” he says, “fuck, you just feel—“

“I know,” you agree. He’s so patient and loving, but the way he fills you and drives in and out, you want nothing more than for him to grips your hips and make a mess of you. After trailing a string of kisses from his cheek to his neck as he continues trying to restrain himself with drawn-out thrusts, you say, “I don’t want you to go slow. We have time for that later.”

“I just—Are you sure?” His eyes reveal all of the yearning he has felt and the doubts that still linger in his mind, the exposure of his feelings almost too much for you to bear. You kiss his lips once again, hoping all of your reciprocated emotions pour out of you and into his reservations to drown them out.

“After tonight, I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Vernon nods and places his hands on your hips, the pressure exemplary. You wrap yours around the nape of his neck.

With a sharp and hard thrust, you moan into his mouth, loving how he pushes himself into you to the hilt. He continues his pace without slowing, loving the smack of his and your hips against each others’ and the way his body connects to yours.

“Fuck,” you whisper in unison, dragging your nails up his biceps and shoulders as he grips your hips harder. You may find bruised skin tomorrow morning, but at the moment, you love how tight his hold is on you. You wrap your legs around his lower back so he can angle his thrusts, and it feels like drowning and burning in the same breath.

From the chest to the hips, there’s an array of points where your bodies meet. With an overwhelming feeling of fullness pervading your body, you’re certain now there was never a time for anyone else to claim your heart when he had claimed it for his own long ago. You close your eyes to enjoy the thoughts bursting at the forefront of your brain alongside the build of your release, but the press of Vernon’s hand against your chin makes you snap your eyes open.

He pushes in deep, filling you to the brim once again, hitting the sweetest spot within you that has you digging the heels of your feet into his skin. You keep your eyes locked with his, but the way he presses down against your body and the new feeling of his hand against your neck makes it difficult to keep your focus on anything besides the profusion of sensations he’s giving you. You pull him in for a deep kiss, all while you push your hips back against his. This time, you capture a groan from his mouth with your lips. The hand against your neck shakes as his hips stutter, the established pace falling off.

In the midst of his lips being attached to yours, You notice the tinge of a whine accompanying his groans and how labored his breathing becomes. You press your fingers to your clit, rubbing circles into your flesh to follow him to his release with your own.

At this point, you cannot tell which sensation feels the best: Vernon’s tongue flicking against the roof of your mouth, his cock sinking into you, his hand pressing lightly against your windpipe, or the drum of your fingers along your center. Regardless, you love the filth and sweetness of each one, and how you’re sharing the same sensations with the man you love. It’s all you could ask for. You cry out when you finally orgasm. Clenching around him, you hold on to every second of the white hot bliss that coats every space of your skin.

Vernon lets out a long string of moans when he releases, filling you up and spilling inside of you. His thrusts come to a halt, pushing his hips one last time to milk what's left of his climax. Breathing fast, you press your forehead to his. Your heartbeats are drums, beating hard and clashing against each others’ tempos. With time pressed against each other, your bodies sticky and his cock still inside of you, they slowly find their way to a soft beat that compliment each other. Vernon huffs out a breath into the space of your neck, and you kiss his temple before he can raise his head and look into your eyes.

“I love you,” he says, panting, his face lit up in the dark. It’s as though he’s found rapture in the solace of your bed and in your arms, and you would not fight him on the sentiment because your smile mimics it tenfold.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him long and sweet, the damn taste of his mouth a new and unending craving.

He pulls out of you to grab some tissues from the bathroom, but not leaving without pecking your nose, which makes you giggle more than it should. He comes back to bed and wraps himself around you, and you breathe in his scent as he rubs soothing circles into your back. Despite that, you still yearn for more of his body against yours, too touch-starved to go back. “Han?”

“Hmm?” He asks, raising his head from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes.

“Could you…I don’t know,” you fumble, unsure of how to get your point across. In trying to find the right words, Vernon seems to understand as a small, boyish grin spreads onto his face. You two discussed your kinks lots of times, sometimes for the fun of it, and Vernon knew some of yours were based solely on your desire for connection and intimacy. And how could he say no to you now when all you wanted was to be close to him?

Wrapping a hand around his cock, he hisses from the lingering traces of sensitivity. He strokes himself a few times before he grows hard again and sinks himself inside of you. While he shudders from feeling you take him so well, he doesn’t roll his hips and you don’t rock back against him. You only press your bodies closer together, love and fullness coaxing you to sleep in tandem with the sound of Vernon’s heartbeat.

The sun bleeds through your curtains, and normally you would trudge to the window to close them shut and fall back asleep peacefully. This time, though, you don’t mind it when you see the rise and fall of Vernon’s naked chest in the sunlight, all while feeling his arms wrapped around you. You know you could watch him sleep all day, the gape of his mouth so kissable and the warmth of his skin calling to be savored. However, those thoughts come to a halt when the sudden desire to grab something to drink hits you. Hating to leave him, you press a soft kiss to Vernon’s temple.

You take an old button-up of his from your closet and tiptoe to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You know your bed is a room away, but you gulp down the drink to make it there faster. Of course, when you walk back into your room, you see an awake Vernon with a hand propped behind his head. His eyes are droopy, but a sugary smile sits on his lips nonetheless, taking in your article of clothing. “Is that my shirt?”

You grin, a blush creeping on your face. “You left it here, so that makes it mine.” On some level, you had worried this morning would be awkward no matter how many times you had said you loved each other the night before. Still, the ease of falling into your shared banter and routine comforts you. 

“Point taken. You look cuter than I do in it, anyway.” 

Vernon pats the empty spot next to him you were previously occupying, and you have no qualms crawling back into it and into his arms. “Does that mean I can wear all of your shirts when I want? I mean, since I look so cute in them,” you joke, kissing several spots on his jawline.

His hand creeps up to your shoulder, and thanks to the lack of buttons fastened together, he slides the fabric down until one of your breasts peaks out. “As long as I’m the only one who sees you out of them.”

“I think we established that last night.“ You giggle into his neck. “But, to reiterate, yes. You’re the only one I’ll share all of my terrible jokes with, take with me to Taco Tuesdays, and get undressed for.”

Vernon smirks. “That’s what we do anyway, minus the last part.”

“Well, call it an added bonus then, since we’re in love and all.”

The laugh that leaves his lips stops your heart, and you wonder if it’s possible to pack away a sound in your mind for every good and bad day, just to recall this moment. “Deal.”

With that, he places a kiss on your lips as the sun continues gleaming through your window.

You spend the rest of the early morning that way, wrapped up in each other and not bothering to dress. After another post-morning sex nap, you two spend the rest of the day cuddled up on your couch with Chinese takeout, reminiscing about the past, but ready to find out where the future takes you both. Lucky for you, with the way Vernon looks into your eyes, loses his train of thought every time you kiss him, and finds it again when you smile, the future has the potential to be pretty beautiful.

[ambrosiagourmet]

In chapter 28, Marcille lays out why the journey she's been on has been worth the pain: because they were able to bring Falin back. The injuries, the indignity, and the mess of it all - they are tolerable primarily in context of destination she believes she's reached at this point.

In truth, of course, the story is far from finished. In fact, I would argue that this is actually where hers really starts. This scene holds the seed of the very thing the Winged Lion will exploit to lead Marcille to become the Lord of the Dungeon. After all, with a desire as far reaching and deeply held as Marcille's, if the only acceptable outcome is success, what other choice does she have but to bargain with the infinite?

So let's talk about this idea - where it leads her, how Laios' path intersects with it, and how they both help each other move forward in the face of failure.

First though, I want to step back and talk about something else: the shapeshifter chapters.

With these chapters recently covered by the anime, there has, of course, come plenty of fun discussions about which version of each character belongs which other character's perceptions, and what that means.

One thing I've seen pointed out a few times is the fact that both Laios and Marcille's impressions of each other are based around Falin. Marcille's version of Laios is larger and more masculine, because those are the traits that stuck out to her in contrast to Falin. Laios' version of Marcille was directly inspired by her appearance and demeanor when resurrecting Falin.

So why is this important to a discussion about Marcille being focused on success? Well, it shows us where Laios and Marcille's relationship starts: built primarily around their shared love for Falin. It's from that shared beginning that they begin to learn about each other on their own terms.

And this is true for the whole group, to be clear. They are united by circumstance - love for a lost companion, a sense of responsibility, a desire for freedom - but they all grow and help each other beyond that circumstance. They help Senshi bury the ghosts of his past and eat some Hippogriff stew. They help Izutsumi open up to mutual love and friendship. And they learn so much about each other: about Chilchuck's family and Laios' love of monsters and Marcille's desires to live life alongside others.

In the particular case of Marcille and Laios, understanding each other is what lets them save each other. It is not through Falin that Laios talks Marcille down from the edge the Lion has brought her to, nor is it through her that Marcille comforts Laios after the demon is defeated, when it is still unclear how everything will work out.

In fact, it is very specifically the unknown fate of Falin that Marcille comforts him about.

She is willing to accept the outcome - willing, now, to embrace the journey itself, rather than only accepting it as a means to an end.

This is a lesson she learns from Laios, and it's a lesson we watch Laios learn, too.

Just before making her deal with the Lion, Marcille recalls everything that led her to that moment. She lingers on the pain, recalling the worst of their journey:

She only pushes through by remembering her goals: saving Falin, and equalizing the lifespans of her friends to match her own.

And yet, 10 chapters later, when reflecting on why she actually wants to see her goals through, it is the good parts of that very same journey that shine through.

There's an inherent contradiction here, one which Marcille doesn't know how to face. How can the suffering that she tolerates also be the love that drives her forward? How can the loss that she's worked so hard to reverse also be the very circumstance that created a world she, now, cannot stand to give up?

And Laios confronts her with the truth. Because it just is.

Losing Falin forced him to open up to others in a way he never had. It forced him to choose what he cares about, and in making that choice, it gave him the opportunity to be seen. To connect with others.

He has already had to come to terms with the fact that Falin's death has given him something - he would not have been able to kill her again if he hadn't.

There is something here that is fundamental to Dungeon Meshi's understanding of what life even is. Like, I don't think it's a coincidence that part of Laios' speech to Marcille in chapter 85 is actually first seen in the chapter where they fight off ghosts.

In 'Sorbet,' while possessed , Laios thinks that it would have been better if the dragon had eaten him, instead of Falin. The ghosts make people lose their will to live - they are dragged away from life.

When he's pulled back from that brink, Laios realizes that he can't move forward without accepting that she is gone. He even compares the way he was holding on to her to being possessed: it pulled him away from life, from the present moment.

To carry on, he must accept what has been lost, and focus on protecting the life that they still have.

Like Marcille, he has to accept the contradictions of their journey. That life means eating, and eating requires death. That sometimes one must be selfish in order to be kind, and that selflessness can easily be twisted into to cruelty.

That loss will, inevitably, lead you to find happiness that you may not have found otherwise.

This is how he gets through to Marcille. And I think part of the reason he reaches her with these specific ideas is because those contradictions are baked so thoroughly into their relationship.

Marcille only met Falin after she had been left behind by Laios. Laios was able to reconnect with Falin because she left Marcille. They both met each other through Falin, and yet they only really got to know and care for one another after she died.

And of course, that's why Marcille uses the same ideas to comfort Laios, in the final chapter. It is because of Laios that she is able to accept the journey for itself, and not need the happy ending to justify its meaning to her.

Together, they help each other move forward, and accept that they may not be able to bring Falin back.

Which, if I'm being honest... I think this is the reason Falin can come back, narratively speaking, without the resurrection feeling like it takes away from the themes of the story.

After all, she doesn't do it for Marcille or Laios - she does it for her own sake. Her own hunger and her own desire to eat are the things that lead her back to life.

All three of them, together, end the story like this: not clinging to the things they are afraid to lose, but knowing they can choose to move forward together.

And, importantly, this happy ending is no longer the thing that gives the journey meaning. Rather, it is the privilege of the journey itself that is her happy ending: the chance to walk alongside others in the time they have, to get to know each other, and to eat well.

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.4K words

fic masterlist previous part pt three next part

miguel unwillingly pining after reader; fantasies about you in miguel’s head; a massage (pg); a hint of jealous miguel; spanish wise—I hope I wrote everything correctly, I asked for some opinions and check ups from a spanish speaker <3 big thanks to you — after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?

“Checking the location now.” You said through your ear piece, tapping away at the keyboard. Your back was straightened as you stayed focused. You were working with a group of spider variants, who were assigned to get rid of a misplaced “villain” as they liked to put it. It just makes their job sound much more important, resulting in then coming back with a proud sway to their hips.

“Bro, why are you breathing so hard?” Hissed one of the spider variants to another.

“I’m settling into my hero act.” His tone is full of pronounced muscle—most likely standing with his arms by his side like some macho man. He takes a deep sigh. “It can be tough being such a incredible hero.”

The others just stare, clearly used to this from him, before a screech meets everyone’s ears.

“Where is it?!” One of them exclaims, frantically looking around.

“It would’ve blended into one of the buildings’ walls.” You say, scanning the area on your computer.

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘blended in’?” A spider-man asks. “What is this monster—a chameleon?”

You’re silent for a moment. “Please tell you me reviewed the mission.”

There’s silence through the earpiece. You blink a few times, then close your eyes taking a deep breath. “Why not?”

“Look, I was going to but…Parker distracted me!”

“I distracted you?!” Parker exclaimed.

“Guys.” You try, but they either can’t hear you or are choosing not to.

“You were the one who was so eager to just defeat this villain!”

In your annoyed state, you can’t help but let your mind wander somewhere that had held your attention for majority of the day…

—this morning—

You rushed down the stairs, while simultaneously fixing your hair. Shit, you were gonna be late. All because of these extensive stairs.

When you reached the bottom, your hair had become a mess again, making you place your flat palms against your head as you tried to soothe the stray hairs.

You reach the door to your office, pausing to take a breath. Twisting the handle, you walked inside.

You instantly noticed Miguel, spider suit back on, as he swiped necessary and unnecessary screens back and forth by the large spider.

You tried to stay quiet as you walked to your desk, but your luck seems to plainly not exist as Miguel’s voice greets you—rather gruffly.

“Would it be cliché to say ‘you’re late’?”

You press your lips together as he jumps down. You seem to forget how tall he is until he’s towering over you, with a look that states ‘you should be worried’.

You gulp, before forcing a smile. Miguel’s expression stays dead as he waits for you to speak, most likely to explain yourself.

When you say nothing your mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish, Miguel speaks. “I said six.”

You nod. “I heard you.”

“Did you?” His clicks his jaw, a slight tilt to his head, as he observed your quickly fixed hair and slight heave of your chest. You clearly rushed. “You just woke up.”

“No.” You say indignantly. “I’ve been awake since six, I just didn’t like the idea of walking down those stairs, so…I began working in my room.”

“Uh huh.” He sarcastically nods. “Right.”

You press your lips together, thinking you should have stitched them shut. You weren’t helping yourself.

“You keep saying you want to prove that you belong here.” Miguel begins. He leans forward, his red eyes gleaming, his fangs becoming more visible as he snarls. “If you don’t start getting here at six, then I’ll be happy to drag you out at four.”

He leans back, stalking back towards the big spider, as he webs himself up to the top. You let out a sigh, turning to your desk and swivel chair.

;;

After an hour or so of working, and going over the mission scheduled in a few hours, you feel a breath by your neck. With wide eyes you spin around to see Miguel staring down at you.

When he meets your gaze, you’re placing your hand over your heart. “Can you not scare me like that?” You mutter out.

He leans forward…and forward… and forward, until his large hands are caging you in by resting them on the chair’s armrests. “Scare?” He almost whispers in question to himself.

You’re utterly frozen as his breath tickles your nose and cheeks, which you are sure to be an embarrassing red by now.

“O’hara?” You slowly question, it comes out quieter than you had intended.

His eyes stay focused on your own, as your pulse beats rapidly in your chest. Stop it— you want to say. But you’re not sure what ‘it’ is exactly.

“…did you need something?” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“What do you mean by scare?” He asks.

You lightly shift in your chair, unsure what to do in this situation. “Um…I just mean that you’re…you are kinda scary, O’hara.” You force a chuckle, trying to ease tension you are sure is the annoyance radiating off of him.

“Is it the fangs?” He asks, his eyes strangely showing genuine interest—or what you think to be genuine.

“Kind of?” You say more so as a question. “But also how you never, well…smile.”

“Why should I smile at people I don’t want to smile at?” He asks, his eyes finally dropping away from the entrapment of your own, but to a much worser place.

You self consciously lick your lips, feeling your nerves turning them dry. His gaze doesn’t shift from your mouth for an abnormally long time.

“O’hara.”

His brows then begin to furrow, his eyes finally leaving your lips, making you unintentionally sigh.

“Why do you refer to me by my last name?”

“What does ‘chaparrita’ mean?” You counter.

He narrows his eyes, leaning away from you and back to his full height. “You ready for your lesson?” He suddenly asks, grabbing a swivel chair and leaning back.

You stare at him for a moment. So that was what he was supposed to ask this whole time? “Okay, if you tell me—“

“No.” He says monotonously. “Ahora deja de hacer preguntas y siéntate y escucha.” (Now stop asking questions and sit and listen.)

You didn’t understand what he just said but you can understand his tone, so you readjust yourself on your chair and stay silent.

“Now…what do you say when you want help?” Miguel inquires, his tone now almost babying.

You narrow your eyes, but answer anyway. “¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?”

“Mm.” He hums, letting his gaze drop. “Bien.”

Miguel notices the slight curve of your lips at his praise. He shifts in his seat. “I hope you know what that means.”

Your small smile falls, before a fake one replaces it. “Yes, O’hara, I do know what that one means.”

“You should loose the attitude, chaparrita. Si es que quieres mi ayuda” (If you want my help, that is.) He says, running his tongue along one of his fangs.

“I understood “my help”.” You say. “And the one with the attitude here is you.”

“How so?”

You raise your brows. “Do I need to answer that? I thought you were observant?” Okay, now you were just pushing his buttons for fun. He seemed to get riled up so easily.

A scowl forms on his face. “Si no fueras tan pinche bonita, creo que me gustaría verte arañada” (If you weren’t so annoyingly pretty, I think I’d like to see you clawed up.) He mutters under his breath, his gaze slightly venomous.

“¿Cómo estás?” Miguel says. “Repeat it.”

“¿Cómo estás?” You repeat.

“That means “how are you?”. And what could you reply with?” He inquires.

“Bien.” You answer.

“Mejor.”

“‘Better’?” You say with a scoff. “I feel like I should get a bit more credit…Spanish is hard.”

“First of all—it’s not.” Miguel states. “Second…you know what ‘mejor’ means?”

“It was one of the words I learnt on my phone.” You shrug.

“Any other words I should I know about?” He sounds annoyed, and you can’t fathom why.

“You’re annoyed at that? To be honest I thought you’d be grateful.”

He doesn’t say anything. Mainly because he can’t say the first reason that popped into his head. He wanted you to learn Spanish—all of it—from him, and only him. He also can’t tell you because he doesn’t know why he feels that way. It was stupid, feeling resentful to a phone, utterly stupid, but Miguel can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.

—present—

“Shut up!” You exclaim, massaging your temples.

There’s finally silence on the other end.

“The invisible monster is moving your way, on the left wall. You’ll be able to spot a slight glimmering shimmer over him. If you look close enough.”

You finally see the spider variants pick up into action, spotting the monster and beginning to attack.

Miguel watched from afar, leant by the open door to the main tech room, arms crossed as he watched you lean back in annoyance. When you were mad your eyes would hood over, narrowing to show only half of your pupils.

You would aways grow hot, occasionally fanning yourself as you unbuttoned the first button of your shirt. And Miguel would always stare, his chest picking up to a quicker beat. But the scowl would be set, Miguel hating the way he reacted. He shouldn’t be reacting at all. He felt pathetic, as he tried to look away.

Every time he’d fail, his gaze only shifting further down your body. Your legs were yet again…spread. An obviously comfortable position for you, but certainly not Miguel.

He’s embarrassed to admit—not that he’s ever actually—that he’s fantasised about being close to your spread legs, his hands being able to spread them further. You were a reactive girl, very hyper aware for a human. He hoped you’d stay the same when he’d touch you.

Your chest heaving, your mouth opening, as goosebumps littered your skin. Skin he’d be able to see a lot more of.

And to all these fantasies he would hate himself, and you. Sure, he was projecting. But he’d rather project anger then any of his hidden thoughts.

“Is it my turn now?” He asks, making you spin in your chair to face the exit and Miguel.

You had finally taken out your headpiece, the mission clearly completed. The spider-men would get back soon. A look of confusion flashed across your features before realisation hits. ‘His turn’. His side of the deal.

You stand, straightening your slightly crumpled shirt—you had been fisting the material in your annoyed state. Miguel ignores the thoughts of instead a crumpled sheet. Your fists clenching around, preferably, his—no. Not preferably his. He clears his head, biting his inside cheek, the metallic taste of blood now tangible.

“Follow me.” He turns, expecting you to do so.

And you do, walking past all the different spider variants in an effort to stay at Miguel’s heels.

Through the journey up the stairs, Miguel—who doesn’t know why he’s walking with you—has been having thoughts. Very…interesting thoughts. Some seeming very similar to those of ‘finding you annoyed kinda hot’ type of thoughts. It also fell back to the thoughts swirling in his head when he was looking at your lips.

He hadn’t meant to do that, his body seeming to have had a mind of its own when he leant over, caging you in.

He’s annoyed to admit—to himself—that he had wanted to kiss you. See what it felt like. Maybe he’d hate it and his strange, annoying crush on you would go.

He’s soon stopped by his room, finally glancing at you, to see that you look confused. “I thought I was doing what you asked…or whatever.” You say, slowing your breathing.

“You are.” He opens his door, walking in.

You watch him, brows still furrowed. You stay rooted to the hallway floor. “In your room?” You look around like you’ve done something terrible, and you’re gonna get caught.

“Maybe you aren’t as committed as you claim to be.”

Your eyes narrow at his blatancy. You edge closer to his cracked open door, him now fully inside. You take a deep breath before pushing it further open, then quickly shutting it behind you.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be in here.” You mutter, staying pressed to the door, as you took in the large looking bed, messed up from his sleep, along with a window, and plain walls. There wasn’t much character and you could tell that that was very intentional.

You then shift your gaze to Miguel who had found himself a seat, relaxing back into it as he clicked his jaw. He finally met your gaze, and in the dim-ish lighting his hair looked messier, his hand most likely having ran through it.

“So…” you drift off, not meaning to come across so awkward.

He tilted his head to the side, silently asking you to come to him, as his legs spread a fraction. You ignored the want to hitch your breath, gulping it down instead.

You stare at him, not moving.

He raised a brow. “You look worried.”

“I’m not worried…just…confused.” You again force a chuckle, a forming coping mechanism around Miguel.

“I think my direction was pretty obvious. I did say it in English.” He again made himself out to be all superior.

You sigh. “I heard you. I’m just confused as to why you asked that.”

“What—did you think I asked you in here so that you’d stay plastered to my door, chaparrita?” He asked sarcastically.

You wet your lips. “Why did you ask me in here?”

“I want a massage.” He says it just so…simply.

You blink, maybe one time too many. “What?”

“A massage, y/l/n.” He says, lowering his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Why?” You haven’t moved from the door, so, Miguel swiftly shoots a web out to attach to your shirt, yanking you forward.

You gasp, nearly tripping over your feet, as you get pulled towards him. Miguel stabilises you with a hand to your stomach, making you come to a stop in front of him. “What the hell?” You stare at him, your chest heaving in shock.

You rip the web from your shirt, quickly brushing it off. “You gave Gwen one. I heard you were good. That’s all.” Miguel says.

Your brows furrowed. “Gwen?” Then you remember. “Oh, well that’s because she just got back from a really hard mission…she was sore and I…dunno, I was bored.”

“And you don’t think I am? Sore, I mean. You do realise I take care of the multi—“

“The multiverse, yes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m just a little shocked, is all.”

“You can say no.”

You sigh. “If I want to lose my job.” You mutter, walking around him. Miguel twists his head to follow you slightly, until you stood out of his gaze, directly behind him. You pause, before gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders. Jeez, he was broad.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. To be honest you thought his requests would be hardcore, asking you to practically run around ramped. But instead here you were alone in his room giving him a massage.

You began to add pressure. Working your fingers into the instant knots you felt.

Miguel’s eyes involuntarily rolled closed, as he accidentally leaned more into your touch. You don’t seem to notice the shift as you continue massaging by his neck and along his shoulder, veering a slightly onto the top of his back.

“I forgot to ask: where did you want the massage? I just assumed the shoulders.”

“Mm?” Miguel hums in question, sounding far away, a small heavy breath leaving his lips after.

“O’hara?” You ask, stopping your hands’ movements.

A small growl of disapproval fell from Miguel’s lips involuntarily. “Just—“ he takes a breath. “What you were doing is fine.”

You place your hands back where they were, making Miguel relax back into your fingers. You were good—Miguel thought to himself. He can’t remember the last time he released so much tension.

You lean down to Miguel’s ear, your tickling breath making him gulp. “Is there a time requirement? Because I had plans tonight.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed. “Plans? What plans?” He didn’t mean to sound so disappointed and borderline desperate, but he’s thankful you barely heard his tone as your attitude didn’t shift.

You worked your fingers closer to his chest, doing your normal routine. Your grandmother was a masseuse, and of course she had to give you some tips. It was fun being able to practice on Gwen, but with Miguel you felt nervous every time you would press down hard on a knot.

But his responses seemed to be good, considering all the quiet groans and heavy breaths.

“I made plans with spider-man—“

“That’s very descriptive.” Miguel comments, his head slightly rolling to the side.

You scoff, your fingers moving to the base of his neck, where no spider suit material could intervene. The pads of your fingers rubbing his bare skin. Miguel noticed the difference a lot quicker than you did, sounds and words of approval he really didn’t want you to hear threatening to spill.

“Dios, ¿por qué tus manos tienen que sentirse tan bien?” (God, why do your hands have to feel so good?) He muttered under his breath, not really meaning for you to catch a word, but of course you pick up ‘bien’.

“Good?” You asked. “Well, then you should put in a good word for me.” You chuckle. “Maybe I should start a small business and massage all the spider-men and woman. I think I’d do well—“

“No.” Miguel says instantly, still sounding slightly breathless. “If you want to prove yourself you can’t get distracted.” Of course that’s the reason he dislikes the idea. Definitely not because he doesn’t want your hands making others feel like this…definitely not.

“Don’t worry, it was just a hypothetical.” You say, going back to his shoulders. “Now, I hope that’s okay. Because I do need to go.” You bring your hands away, and it takes everything in Miguel not to spin around in the chair, grab your hands and ask you to massage somewhere else.

The tense knots in his shoulders were gone, his neck felt light, and he wanted to feel your fingers run along his abs. This was bad. Why was the lighting so dim, why was your scent so strong?

He spun around in his chair, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t fully answer me before. Who are meeting?”

“It was gonna be spider-man, the one with the cartoonish attitude, and now it’s just Hobie. I dunno. something about an important—“

“Hobie?” Miguel interrupts. He displayed indifference, though inside he was burning.

A weird tension began to fill the room. “Yeah, so I’ll just…go.” You say quickly passing him and opening the door, before Miguel had the (bad) mind to stop you.

You rushed out into the hallway which instantly felt lighter, letting you breathe.

You head to the main communion area, paths leading everywhere along the walls to along the roof, making it easy for a spider person to navigate but not someone who can’t stick to walls.

So you stay on the simple path, skimming through talking suited spiders until someone called your name. You spin catching sight of Peter, Mayday in his grasp.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hey. Sorry, Hobie wanted me to tell you that he can’t catch up for that song session thing, something about getting called in for business.” Peter said, his hands going everywhere as Mayday tried to escape over the edge.

“Also picture that in an over pronounced British accent.” He gave you a thumbs up to which you chuckled.

“No worries, thanks Peter.”

“Mayday!” He suddenly yelled, to which you pointed to the left, displaying her climbing onto a spider-man’s back.

Peter rushes off. And you sigh, thinking you hurried for no reason. Though you are grateful that you could use that as an excuse to get out of Miguel’s room.

As you head to your own, you begin to wonder what this last minute mission could be about and why Hobie had been called in now. Usually the only person who calls people in, especially this last minute would be Miguel.

I guess crime never sleeps—you think to yourself—or something like that.

ahhh here’s part three!—I hope this one wasn’t too boring or not what you expected x part four is gonna be more SeXuAl, I promise

I actually don’t know how many parts I should do, coz atm it’s feeling like a slow burn, but I don’t want to drag you guys along a long ass fic so I’m not sure.

taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbb @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright @pix-stuff

#2 taglist

[kithtaehyung]

minted (m) (snippet) | myg

title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, both versions of yoongi have their own red warning labels smut warnings: to be dropped on drop day but lmfaoooo est. drop date: july 2024! teaser word count: 486 total word count: projecting 15-20k✌️

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back home by now, freshly showered and curling up on your worn bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching diced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the group walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun on their clothes and in their eyes. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

As he gets closer, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do. 

But from the slight confusion pinching his forehead, he didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time rushing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending in with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here?

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase.

-

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tbc :)))

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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: LETS GOOOO WHO IS HYPED BCCC..

[faeryarchives]

catch me (diasomnia x gn!reader)

requested by anon: hi, hopefully your request still open! can i request for diasomnia? where the boys kabedon mc, resulting them blushing so hard then the physical closeness enough to make mc pass out there. yeah it's kinda romantic and crack in the same time. note: delayed bc my bed broke haha (loose screw) + i got sick... requests are still not open this is a request from long time ago 😓 yuu and reader are different ppl! u have no idea how i love this (made sebek's part kinda angsty idk) 🤍 !! recent works: hey chat (first years x gn!streamer yuu!) divider credits to @cafekitsune !! her works are so pretty real 🤍

-‘๑’- malleus draconia (3rd year ramshackle dorm leader - beanfest)

'it seems like i am on the farmer's team this year. how about you, treasure?' your eyes landed on your dorm mates chilling in the lounge - eyes sparkling in unknown excitement. "what team did you and grim got assigned to?" "oh, (name)-senpai! we got assigned to the farmers team!" a shiver ran down yuu's spine after a smirk plays around the edges of your mouth. "(name)-senpai?" "that means i'll be on the monster team, huh? good luck tomorrow!" "wait, we are going up against you?!"

the survival of the beanest - the event that most students are waiting for while some of them loathes it

given that you, grim and yuu are the only members of your dorm, it was natural for you to be opposing teams -> leading you to face off against your lover, thee malleus draconia

its not often you would be on opposite sides in anything after all

after the orientation about the rules, students started to group according to their teams leaving you and malleus alone together. the fae had the most dejected everyone ever seen. he slowly took your hand in his, holding it tightly as if he doesn't want you to go to the other side. "what a shame, we could've bond over this." "you silly fae, who said we couldn't bond over this?" in a blink of an eye, malleus found himself being hugged. as if waiting for this moment, the soothing wind picked up scent of fresh lavender invaded his senses, reviving his spirits - as malleus watch you bury your face to his shoulder. before he could wrap his arms around your frame - you pulled away, grinning. "let's have fun, yeah?" "heheh, it seems i won’t be bored today."

not being able to get even a good luck kiss from you made the diasomnia leader a menace because he will lock his target for real and he will make sure he finds his target (ok this going the wrong way)

while the farmers' team looked formidable having most of the housewardens, it couldn't be denied that the monster team have the athletic and agile members - including you

you were pretty confident in your skills really and having to plan with azul and the others really gave you more confidence and boost so it will probably go well!

"there are so many players who got eliminated immediately huh?" after eliminating more than enough players, you and lilia start to scurry through the woods, you see players of opposite teams now leaning on trees looking defeated and exhausted. "well that is because all the youngsters are thrilled to let out their fun!" chimed lilia as he float next to you, his laughing smile was a clear sign of his amusement that made you a little wary. "so, i heard someone challenged our malleus to a little game. i wonder who might that be?" "hahaha how silly, who would challenge mal anyway?" the fae stared at you for a solid minute before smiling ever so eerily. the two of you exchange no more words, only hearing the rustling of wind as you run - that is until a shadow jumped right in front of you, almost bumping into it if it weren't for your reflexes. "holy-" "... good luck little bat." in an instant, lilia vanished, leaving you with the diasomnia leader. one look at him and his devilish smile was a charming mask for his mischief. "i found you."

from the start it was already hopeless to think you would be able to take him down, so you resorted to one thing - playing a game of tag

and the other students didn't even dare to step close to you because holy moly, malleus was beaming!

you don't know how long you were running for. one minute? five minutes? thirty? it felt like you already ran through the whole campus yet malleus doesn't make any move to capture you- or so you thought. "come on, treasure. don't strain yourself." you could feel him just right behind you, his deep voice ringing in your ear and sending shivers throughout your body. "this wasn't supposed to go this way- ah!" turning around, you see malleus face very close to yours causing you to trip over a large tree root and your hand grabbing the nearest one next to you - which is malleus as you both fell to the grassy ground with a loud thud near your ears. head throbbing from the fall, eyes squinting as the sunlight decided to shine on you at the moment. "... lright, (name)?" you could barely make out the voice calling out your name and after a solid minute, you finally regain your senses. "malleus?" (eye color) eyes locked onto bright green eyes blinking rapidly as malleus panic, but that was the least of your concern. because all you know right now is that you are under the fae - his arms and legs caging you in, you can barely even move! one of his hand is on your cheek, caressing it ever so gently like you were made out of glass. what set the alarm go off in your head is the non existing distance between your faces, noses are almost touching and lips one inch away from another. "are you alright, my treasure? did you hit your head hard? shall i burn the ground?" before anything else, malleus heard you mumble something inaudible, confused as why you start to cover your face with your hands. nevertheless, wanting to prioritize your being over anything, malleus leaned in closer, eyebrows furrowed as he gently pry off your hand over your face. "can you repeat that again...?" his voice grew softer and softer as he finally put the pieces together after seeing your cheeks blossomed like a flower over the years, even your ears were burning red. "...i surrender." "so i win?" ever so curious, the fae decided to lean in more - casually rubbing his nose with yours so casually causing you to blow a fuse.

while your group won in the end, i think we all know who the real winner is 😊

-‘๑’- lilia vanrouge (3rd year ramshackle dorm leader- stitch tropical turbulence)

right now, you don't know why a little blue ball of sunshine named stitch is clinging onto your shoulder, comforting you.

honestly you don't know how you got dragged into the whole mess. you even rarely go to the library!

if anything it is crazy that you got teleported in another dimension on the day you decided to read some books in the library (like literally staying inside)

just as you were about to go to the other side of the library, you find yourself following the familiar sound of your friends chatting away. walking right at the corner, familiar faces filled your vision. "woah, what are you all doing here? this is an unusual big group." "dorm leader, what are you doing here? you don't come to the library often." "nothing, just a change of pace for today. i just feel like doing it." "oh, little bat!" a blur of black and green rush suddenly rush in and tackling you into a hug that you reciprocated without batting an eye, which to everyone's surprise. "hello to you too, lils. what are you up to?" running through his hair affectionately, the fae started to share what they previously talked about before you arrive. "i miss you." "lils, we just saw each other like two hours ago." as if your words just entered one ear and exited the other, lilia wrapped his arms around you tighter, burying his face into your shoulder. "mrah?! what's going on? it's so bright?!" and being lost in your own world, you didn't notice how grim and floyd proceed to open the book - engulfing your group in a bright light. and that is how you find yourself alone in the island.

for some reason, the book wanted you to be separated from the group - waking up with small blue little guy next to you, shaking you awake

you didn't know when and how long you were out for but you are pretty sure you are alone - except for the owner of the soft small paws patting all over your face. eyes fluttering open, you find yourself face to face with a blue... koala? "...huh? what-" from the corner of your eye, you see a large figure pointing something at your direction - emitting a laser which is surely going to hit if it weren't for you rolling out of the way. "what was that for?! are you alright?" you scanned through the koala for any injury, its curious eyes watching you carefully. "another one of those humans? never mind that, give me experiment 626 this moment." the mysterious being slowly made its way to you, loud thud following with each step. "you mean this little fella...?" your blue furry friend was hiding behind you, snarling - arms multiplying?! but the thing that caught your eye is the charm hanging around his neck because it's the one you made for lilia not too long ago. "lilia's charm..." as if hearing a familiar name, 626 immediately perked up as if realizing something. "stitch is friend! not enemy!" it garbled, waving his arms in the air trying to prove its innocence. "lilia gave stitch necklace!"stitch thought that you might not understand but to his surprise - you quickly stood up on your feet and started to run away from gantu. "you are making a big mistake, human! that is no ordinary creature - 626 could destroy anything its path!" you looked over your shoulder, and stitch could see your eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity. "sorry but no way i am trusting you over my lover. let's go stitch!"

it became a game of hide and seek and actually having stitch as your company wasn't bad + he even helped you to reunite with your friends who somehow came into the island a day before you

surprisingly lilia was nowhere to be seen, others saying he went out to explore so you ventured the island once more

having to explore with no interference like robots attacking you or even gantu pointing his laser gun, you finally get to enjoy the island's beauty. blanket of golden sands, palm trees swaying gently, hearing the waves lapping at the shore and the taste of salt on your lips- everything was just so refreshing. "... i wanted to spend this moment with lilia too." you muttering dejectedly, feeling lonely due to the absence of your favorite bat fae. with your mind wandering somewhere else and mindlessly kicking through the fine sand, you failed to notice how someone creeping up behind you. noticing the presence a little too late, a faint whisper drifts through the air, seeming to come from everywhere at once. a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist "it seems like the wind guided my way to you." you yelped, pulling and jumping away to glare at the floating lilia, who is now giggling and flying circles around you. "lilia! you scared me!" "that was but a little surprise, my love. i missed you too." seeing how you stomp your foot on the ground, lilia descended from the air to stand in front of you, poking your cheeks playfully. "forgive me please?" still feeling a little embarrassed, you refused to look at him in the eyes and turned the other way. but the ever so persistent vice dorm leader of diasomnia refuse to back down. he took small steps towards to which you respond by taking small steps backward until you find yourself backed up on a tree. 'oh fuck.' as if reading your mind, lilia didn't even give you time to escape by slapping his hand on to the tree behind, trapping you in. "(nickname), can you forgive me?" "..." "love?" "(name) (last name)." his other hand caressing your cheek so fondly as he turn your head to look at him. his eyes widening in surprise seeing your face turned into shade of beet red, eyes looking everywhere interesting other than him. seeing you all embarrassed made him tease you even more, leaning in even more until your foreheads are touching "please?" as if imitating an oven, lilia watched your completely turn red and smoke coming off you. the next thing he knew, you fainted in his arms, your eyes spiraling. "...oops."

there were questions lingering in the air when lilia returned to the bungalow with you fainted in his arms, but that is for another time.

-‘๑’- sebek zigvolt (yuu's twin - phantom bride)

while everyone got to have an audience with eliza, they expected that they would be following the plan flawlessly because surely there are nothing that can ruin the flow. until they utterly failed in wooing the lady. you shocked them even more by walking so freely in the venue, waving at them with sheepish grin on your face. "well if this isn't awkward!" "(name) how did you get caught too?!" "oh, that is a good question..." sebek could feel his inside sour as he watch eliza wrap her arms around you in an oh so gleeful way - the nerve! even sebek himself doesn't have the courage to do the same thing! "oh my dear friend, you really came!" "but of course! i don't really have a choice..."

well apparently eliza took you too to be her best friend to the wedding - you were at the wrong place at the wrong time and you fit her requirements!

you could run anytime you want but leaving your gaming buddy alone was too cruel, especially when he is begging for his life for you to stay 😭

"... are you guys still there?" asking something so obvious to the all frozen students who got slapped by the bride made them look at you as if you were a lunatic. "what do you think, (name)?" "not my fault you guys decided to make it a competition..." mumbling that last part loud enough to tease vil and leona while sending rest of them an apologetic stare - you turn your attention to the next candidate for eliza, which is sebek. questions start to run though your mind after sharing an eye contact with your lover - trying to talk through nonverbal cues only for him to get the wrong idea. seeing how he pumped his fist was a bad omen already. "he is going to be one of us, isn't he?" a chorUs of agreement rang out from the eliminated squad, watching as their soon to be companion approach the ghost bride. "what is your name?" "MY NAME IS SEBEK ZIGVOLT!" the bride stopped, as if sensing something in the air, wondering why this man in front of her looked determined even though his friends are now her captives. nevertheless she went on with the audience. "how would you know if you are in love and how would you love someone?" usually, everyone would expect sebek to burst into a ranting fit about love and how will it be related to malleus and waited for a minute, then five minutes then another but they were only met with silence. "... you wish to ask me questions about love, ghost?" sebek carefully asked eliza, disbelief written all over his face as the bride nodded yes to his question. "he is going to fail this one." leona yawned, just wanting everything to be over with. sebek slowly blinked his eyes, arms crossing in front of his chest as he drown himself in his own thoughts. "...you wouldn't know immediately if you are in love, it will just sink in your mind on a random day that maybe you treat someone a little more special than others. that you can't really see a future where they are not there." his words trailing off. "and how would you love someone? that is a stupid question." sebek glanced at your direction and it felt ike he was saying it to you rather than eliza. "just give it your all. and love unconditionally. it doesn't matter if you are the most powerful ruler, the richest man or just a normal person in the world. if both of you knew you share the same feelings - everything will just click in place." no one dared to speak after sebek's speech as he rendered everyone at loss of words. eliza knew everything was perfect, his answers were good but why does it feel like- "those are not for me." she then turn to look at you, gaze softening at the realization. "you're out." eliza hesitantly raised her hand, ready to strike when you suddenly ran past the two - but not without grabbing sebek's hand. "sorry eliza, this one is off limits."

you sweatdropped after hearing your friends screaming you name

maybe it's the short time that you get to know eliza helped you to gain her trust even just a bit as you noticed how there weren't any ghost soldiers following behind as you stopped running at the hallway.

not to be that person but crowley can find other people to resolve this issue, not just passing responsibilities to children.

the only thing you need to do is to get to your sibling safely - right?

"what were you doing back there (name)? it could be dangerous for you!" shocked from the volume of his voice, you jumped while holding your still linked hands together close to your chest. if sebek didn't look worried back there, he was certainly playing the part even more now. "sebek, the whole campus is filled with ghosts." "and i was looking for you the whole day! you weren't even answering your phone, your sibling didn't have any idea either!" you didn't know how you backed up into the wall but now you have nowhere to go. sebek was zooming in without him noticing. "do you know how worried i was? i thought you vanished into thin air!" "love, we can-" the unexpected then happened, sebek slammed his hand to the wall right next to your head and buried his head into the crook of your shoulder, giving your jaw small kisses. "don't do that again, please. at least give me a heads up first..." stuck in the same position for a few minutes, sebek was starting to get worried when you fell all silent on him causing him to peek at your face only to see you overheating on the spot. "(NICKNAME)?" "i'm fine..." "you are not fine at all!"

-‘๑’- silver (2nd year ramshackle dorm student - white rabbit fest)

being able to visit one of your dorm mate's friends was incredible - never would you imagine that you would be joining the white rabbit fest with your lover, silver!

he was the one who actually invited you, which was rare because you were often the one who plan for the date

it was a saturday morning, with all your pending tasks and reports finished - you finally had the time to laze and goof around. a perfect day just to lie and watch your favorite series until a knock from the dorm's entrance rang out through the empty building. "huh, yuu and grim wouldn't probably knock at their own dormitory... must be ace and deuce." you stared at the open space, debating if you should succumb to your laziness and ignore the person on the door or stand up and see who it is.

" i'm too lazy to stand up." groaning, you buried your head into your pillow and waiting for the person to go away. "(name) are you inside?" ears perking up, body moving before your brain could process, you find yourself right in front of the ramshackle's door within thirty seconds and tackling your boyfriend into a big hug. "silver! what are you doing here? come in!" leading the knight inside, you both find yourselves in the lounge with your head on his lap and your hands playing with his. "i wanted to ask if you could come with me to the queendom of hearts and celebrate the white rabbit festival." hearing that made you froze in the spot. "(name)?" "is that a date i hear?" "i heard there are good dating spots there-" "SAY NO MORE!"

no was not really an option because its a great opportunity! heck, you even planned a whole itinerary on the outing

researching about deuce place makes you feel like you know his hometown more than himself.

when the day finally came you were so thrilled and overjoyed especially when everyone changed into their rabbit costume thanks to deuce's mom

"aww, yuu looks like a lost child in that suit." while waiting for the others to finish changing, you teased your prefect and bumped their nose playfully with your finger. "hey that is not nice at all! i am so telling silver." yuu grumbled, fixing their hat to hide their face from you, grumbling something inaudible. at the mention of the knight, you scanned the area and not one silver hair was found in sight. "where is silver? if i recall, he was the first one to change clothes..." "(name) i am right behind you." when you turned around to face the sound of the voice, your eyes lightened up like christmas lights on christmas day seeing silver looking very dashing and cute in his suit. "i need to send this to lilia, you look so good!" "(nickname), you look great too, as always. you are really perfect in everything." yuu laughed when you finally fell silent and tears started to roll down your face, making silver suddenly go to panic mode. "you can't just say that to me silver-!" "sorry, i love you." "i hate my life as a third wheel. where is grim when you needed him the most." yuu muttered bitterly.

exploring the town and everything it has to offer, it was no surprise that you were having the time of your life.

especially when silver youd pull you to the side and give you the things he not iced that you were looking at while walking - even got you both a matching pocket watch clock 🥹

but it couldn't be denied where you will eventually get unwanted attention

while the first year group went to try out some rides that ortho found nearby, you and silver finally got to spend your time alone together - that is until something caught his eye that prompt him to stand up and leave for a moment. turns out there were eyes waiting at the right time to do their plan. one by one the group of strangers made their way towards you "are you all alone?" they waited for a response or even a reaction from you but to no avail because your eyes and attention were stuck onto your phone. "hey, do you ignore us!" "people like you really ruins my day." this seemed to set off a wave of irk mark among the men. there were other people around the area but we all know no one really wants got get involve in a battle where you are fighting just to lose your honor in the end but these guys were persistent. "come on, it's not that b-" the man tried to reach out to you and just when you were about to leave and meet at another place with silver- a hand shot through between the tiny space, a loud thud of metal ringing as silver put his arm in the way, shielding you from those guys and stared deep into their souls. "i believe they said they are fine." silver turned his attention to you close and gave you a small kiss on the cheek. "were they bothering you, my love?" "... i'm alright! i could kick their ass anytime anyway!" seeing how you got absorbed in your own worlds, the strangers took it as a sign and leave without even looking back. "(name), are you alright?" turning his head back to look at you, silver was taken aback when he saw literal smoke coming out of your head and your face radiates heat at this point. to make it even worse - silver leaned in closer making your foreheads touch each other. "(name), you are burning up! we need to get some help from ortho!" "i don't think ortho can save my heart from this..." and if it wasn't enough, silver kept you really close to him - arm to arm, hand in hand and noses almost touching. one more inch and silver would surely kiss you on acc-. a child no older than 6 bumped into silver's legs causing him to close the deal and kiss you accidentally. "oof, sorry about that!" *1, 2 ,3 WARNING WARNING! (AME) SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN!* "my love!" and that was the final straw and your last memory before fainting was silver carrying you in his arms. so cute, he is not even a knight in shining armor but a rabbit knight. BEST DATE EVER.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Hangman Trying To Convince You To Go Out With Him

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Beer, flirtations, and teasing

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/N:) Wow! Look at me having a Top Gun idea in what seems like forever! I always love going back to movies I wrote so much for! But sometimes it takes a hot minute to get imagine ideas, but I had this idea a few weeks ago and it's been a little bit of a pain to get it from my brain into a post. But I finally succeeded and hopefully this makes the Hangman/ Glen Powell fangirlies happy! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Taglist: @chaoticcassidy, @the-marshals-wife, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

The Hard Deck was more rowdy than it had been in awhile. With the Top Gun pilots celebrating a hard won victory, them and everyone on base had came in to celebrate. It was busy enough that Penny called in backup to help serve the rambunctious pilots who deserved every drink they ordered. It wasn't often that she called you in, but when Penny did you knew that the night was going to be a crazy one. You had a reputation amongst the pilots, as being no nonsense and out right refusing any advances towards you before the navy men even finished a sentence. While the rumors kept the majority of would be suitors away, it only made the top pilots in Top Gun more bold.

With drink orders coming in so fast that you were barely able to keep up with them. Penny stayed close by picking up the orders you couldn't handle and ringing up tabs. You didn't pay much attention to the people that came to the counter until a familiar uniform caught your eye.

"Give me just a second and I'll be right with you," you handed off two beer bottles before setting into opening several more.

"I'll wait all night for you if that's what it takes," the pilot replied.

You stiffened, recognizing that voice. He was a notorious flirt and never knew when to take no for an answer. It wasn't your first time dealing with him and this moment would not be the last either. No matter how many times you shot him down he always kept coming back, always cocky and sure of himself.

A few moments ago...

Hangman didn't know the definition of the word defeat and he had his eye on the prize. And that was taking out the most difficult female bartender in the Hard Deck's lineup.

"Dude," Coyote tugged on Hangman's arm stopping the pilot in his tracks. "When are you going to give up? She's shot down more pilots than Maverick has and Rooster crashed and burned just last night with her."

"That's Rooster," Hangman scoffed. "I'm different."

"No you're not. What is this the third time you've tried?"

"Fourth."

Coyote rolled his eyes but watched Hangman walk away.

Now....

"Oh great," you sighed, "it's you again."

Hangman chuckled leaning against the counter, trying to get as close as possible. You took a step back, removing the last bottle cap a little violently and passing the drinks out. Grabbing more you glared at him sending a cap flying in his direction.

"Aren't you glad to see me," Hangman asked.

"Not particularly. I don't have time for you."

"And here I thought that the whole world had time for me," he smirked.

Rolling your eyes you turned away, another group of people calling for your attention. But still though you had walked away, Hangman stayed. His eyes never leaving you, watching you closely. You tried ignoring him, but when that didn't work, you glared. That only made his grin widen and he gave you a little wave. You slammed glasses down a little harder than necessary as your patience was wearing thin.

"Why do we have to do this every time?"

"Because," Hangman purred, "I don't like taking no for an answer."

"I noticed."

Watching you intensely while you grabbed another bottle of beer, you removed the cap and took Hangman's hand. His fingers immediately curled around yours and you slapped them back open, causing him to jolt before you placed the cold glass bottle in his palm, then wrapped his fingers around it and waved your hand in a 'shoo' motion. Digging some money from your tip jar, you put the cash into the register, 'Shoo. It's on me. Have a nice life Bagman."

Hangman laughed, defeated once more but not done in the slightest as he made his way back to the pilots crowding into one corner of the bar. Laughing at him and pointing fingers in his direction. What they didn't know was he was wounded, but not crashing and burning just yet. He saw that glint in your eyes and he had to sink the hook in a little more and he would have you.

Hours later and Penny flipped the sign and locked the door. You were finishing cleaning up the last bit of the bar when a check was waved in front of your face.

"Thank you so much for coming in and helping out," she said taking a seat.

"No problem," you replied putting the check in your pocket.

"I see Hangman has taken quite a liking to you," she grinned mischeviously.

"Ugh," you rolled your eyes, "don't remind me."

"He's not a bad guy."

"Sure if you like egotistical pilot maniacs. He's very obnoxious."

"Isn't that what makes him charming?"

"Absolutely not!"

Penny laughed before taking the rag from your hands, "Go on and go home. It's getting late."

"Let me know whenever you need help again."

Penny waved and you made sure to lock the door behind you. She wasn't lying that it was getting late as the sun had long ago set and quiet had settled over the beach. It was always a little creepy, especially the walk to your car. Normally you weren't scared but it was just a little off putting when no one was around and anything could happen.

"Leaving already?"

A voice sounded close by your shoulder causing you to jump and spin around. Hangman started to laugh at your startled expression, causing you to start punching him in the shoulder.

"Don't do that to me!"

"I was hoping you'd jump into my arms instead, I wasn't taking into account that you're a fighter. Can you please stop hitting me now?"

"Depends," you were fuming, "are you ready to stop being a jerk?!"

"Not particularly."

"Then I'm not done beating you yet!"

He let you get in a few more whacks before grabbing your fist and keeping a firm grip on it. You sucked in a breath, gaze flickering from his face to your joined hands back again to his face. He never stopped smiling.

"C'mon let me walk you to your car," Hangman cut the silence. The tension eased from your body and you tried yanking your hand away, only for him to tighten his grip. You huffed but relented, though you did start to protest when he intertwined your fingers together.

You could admit to yourself, that you did feel better that you weren't walking alone in the dark. Hangman had been waiting, not wanting to give up just yet as he really did like you. He just enjoyed aggravating you because you were so easily riled up.

"If you felt uncomfortable walking alone you could have said something to me," he mumbled rubbing at his neck.

"I appreciate it," you looked away squeezing his hand. "Maybe you aren't that major of an egotistical jerk."

Hangman laughed, releasing your hand so you can grab your car keys. "That makes me feel better then."

You unlocked the door and he opened the driver side door before you could even reach for the handle. Ushering you in he closed the door, letting you get buckled before leaning against the door. You rolled the window down and he stuck his head in.

"Thank you," you picked at the threads on the steering wheel.

"You're welcome," he tapped his fingers against your arm. "Does this mean that I'm growing on you?"

"Possibly."

"Think you could stomach a date with me?"

"I'll think about it."

"A kiss for your knight in a pilot uniform," he pointed to his lips.

"Absolutely not," you laughed rolling the window up causing him to hurry up and yank his head out. You backed up leaving Hangman in the headlights as he waved at you. For such a smug Top Gun pilot he could actually be really sweet. He wouldn't give up and you could respect that so for the first time you broke down.

Quickly rolling the window back down as you drove away you yelled out the window.

"Hey Bagman! Pick me up here tomorrow evening and buy me dinner!"

He laughed loudly, "It's a date!"

"Sure it is!"

You drove off, leaving an extremely happy pilot behind.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters as Teachers

As requested by @little-cute-pink-horrible-being :)

If Cosmere characters were teachers, what would they teach & what would it be like?

1. Jasnah: History teacher

Let's just say that she has, uh, high expectations of her students.

Jasnah: Anyone can memorize facts and dates. Jasnah: You all will do that, of course, but you will also learn to draw conclusions from those facts, track historical trends, and maybe, if you work hard, you can come up with a theory of your very own. Bravest student: Uh, miss? We are seven. Jasnah: I do not tolerate excuses.

2. Hammond: Philosophy Professor

He has a hardcore group of students who are huge fans of his.

Student 1: Hey, you're in Professor Hammond's class? Student 2: Yeah. Student 1: Isn't he the guy who wrote that book So What if the Poor are Genetically Destined to be Poor? Revolution is Still the Answer? Student 2: That's him. Student 1: And that's why your an anarchist now, huh? Student 2: Listen, he's pretty persuasive.

3. Elend: Political Science Professor

Elend, a Political Science professor at a university, is the sort of teacher who assigns a LOT of reading.

Elend: Remember: politics is for people. Even when the people you serve suck. A lot. Student: You...sound like you're talking from experience? Elend: You have no idea.

4. Shallan: Art Professor

She mainly teaches drawing and painting classes.

Shallan: You all need to decide what your art means to you. Shallan: Whether it be capturing a moment or representing a person's essence or seeing into realms not normally discernable to human eyes--as long as it's art from your soul, it will be right. Student: What, uh, was that last part? Shallan: Art should be from your soul? Student: N-No, the part before that? Shallan: Anyway, everyone start drawing!

5. Painter: Also an Art Professor

I mean, it's literally his name.

Painter: The key to art is repetition. Painter: When a Nightmare is staring down at you, you don't want to be hesitating over what to draw! Student: Professor Nikaro, please, we've been drawing bamboo for a week! Painter: ...I'm not sure what the issue is?

6. Sigzil: Science teacher

Sigzil is one of those general science teachers you get in middle school.

Sigzil: Remember: the key to science is...? Students, as a chorus: Writing things down! Sigzil: That's right! Sigzil: Now let's see what's the heaviest thing we can stick to the wall using glue--last year we managed to stick me to the wall for a couple seconds! Students: [cheering] Sigzil: ...I'm better at this than I would have expected.

7. Wayne: Theater Teacher

Wayne teaches theatre at a high school.

Wayne: Acting is all about not acting. Wayne: You gotta just be the person. Wayne: Understand their past, embody their present... Student: ...wear their hat? Wayne: Exactly!

8. Kaladin: Also a Theatre Teacher

Look me in the eyes and tell me that Kaladin doesn't understand drama.

Kaladin: [talking to an school administrator off to the side while the class watches] And you can tell the school board that the next time they want to cut funding to the arts, I will be there. Kaladin: I will be there at every meeting where even a word of funding reduction is breathed. Kaladin: I will haunt those meetings, carrying pictures of my kids doing their plays and being happy. Kaladin: And I will make them look me in the eyes if they dare to vote to take that away! New student, hesitantly: Performance art? Student: Nah, he always talks that way.

9. Sarene: English teacher

If only because I don't think they have dedicated fencing professors at most places.

Sarene: English is not simply about reading books--it is about learning to think and interpret information. Sarene: You can take the skills you learn in this class and apply them very widely: to understand the news, to read between the lines of what a person says to you, to craft effective rhetoric to get your own way. Sarene: Read everything. Sarene: Remember: you cannot defeat an enemy unless you understand your enemy. Student: ...enemy? Sarene: Don't worry: you'll have enemies when you're older. Student: Yay?

10. Navani: Engineering

Navani would be an engineering professor at a college.

Navani: Your job, students, is to get this ball through that window high up on the wall. You can do it any way you want. Student: I'm immediately seeing: trebuchet. Navani [nodding sagely]: Go with your heart.

11. Pattern: Math teacher

...Listen, I'm not saying he's a good math teacher.

Student: [staring gloomily at their test] Friend: That bad, huh? Student: Mr. Pattern wrote "Mmmm delicious lies" all over it! Friend: So...you failed? Student: Yeah...

12. Raboniel: Chemistry Teacher

She may seem strict, but she actually quite likes kids.

Raboniel: ...And that, students, is how you build a very effective chemical bomb. Students: ... Raboniel: Any questions? Bravest student: Uh, miss? We are seven. Raboniel: So...basically adults, right? Wait, how fast do humans age again? Teacher's aide: [whispering frantically] Raboniel: ...I may have made an error.

[soobchwe]

not a bad thing —⋆˚࿔ 𝐜𝐡𝐬

SFW version of my fic posted here on @heechwe .ᐟ ✿ pairing: hansol (vernon) chwe x fem!reader ✿ word count: 3.7k ✿ genre: fluff, angst if you squint ✿ tags: friends to lovers, light drug use ✿ synopsis: Just because you've been friends for so long doesn't mean Vernon isn't keeping some secrets from you, and you're determined to confront him about it.

“Simple but still cute, or spontaneous and fun?” 

Vernon, sprawled out on his back on your bed, looks up from his phone screen in absolute confusion. He’s wearing a rainbow beanie with his plaid button-up and denim jeans, contrasting your leggings and baggy t-shirt. He always acts unaffected by how good he cleans up when he wants to, but you shake the thought out of your head and wait for his answer. “Come again?” he asks.

You’ve been holding out the red and black cropped, long-sleeve shirts for two minutes for your best friend to see. Maybe he would immediately pick one or take his time deliberating, especially with the cutout in the shirts’ centers meant to reveal hints of cleavage. However, the realization that his attention was stolen long ago by some meme in your friend group’s group chat has you huffing and flinging the shirts at the edge of your bed. 

It isn't the first time you've gotten nervous before a date, and it definitely isn't your first runaround with Vernon being out of touch with both his current and past conversations. Still, you value his advice more than anyone’s. Only you need it in an hour before your date arrives, and he’s being less than helpful. “Pick which one you like, idiot,” you whine.

“They’re literally the same shirt. The only difference is the color,” Vernon retorts. He rolls his eyes and resumes his endless scrolling.

“Exactly! I need to know which color you think I should wear. That way I give off the right impression.”

“And what impression exactly are you trying to give?”

“I don't know! Ready to have a good time but not looking to go too fast. Fuck, if only they had a shirt for that.” You rub your temple, contemplating if going on this date was the right decision.

The day Mingyu offered to set you up with his friend, you had half a mind to shut him down. His insistence on this blind date was too much to say no to, though, and going without any romantic or sexual interests for months seemed to take its toll on your resistance. While Vernon wasn't outwardly against the idea, he decidedly brushed it off with a disinterested hum and didn't mention it once until today.

Once he sees the defeat on your face, he caves, leaving his resting spot to grab you by the shoulders. It’s unsaid, but he practically asks outwardly for you to look him in the eye, so you do. “Listen. This guy is gonna like you no matter what color your shirt is. And you wanna know why?” You shrug, deflated. “Because anyone who can't see how hilarious and gorgeous you are is blind, and we don't hang out with blind people.” Vernon crinkles his eyebrows together and sighs. “You know what I mean. Like, metaphorically blind and shit.” 

You laugh. “Thanks, Han.”

You turn away from him to stare at the two shirts still spread out on the bed. “But back to this. Which color do you like more?”

After waiting a few seconds for his answer, you look over your shoulder. He’s miles away, lost in his thoughts again. The look in his eyes and etches of his face are traced with puzzlement, and when you call his name to get his attention and snap him out of it, it’s still there. No matter how hard he tries to hide it with a tight-lipped smile. “Black. Simple but still cute,” he says, his voice soft as he uses your words from earlier, proving he was still listening. 

Satisfied, you grab the top and turn, ready to make a beeline for the bathroom to get dressed. You stop short when you almost bump into Vernon on your way. It's only then you realize how close the two of you are. Less than a foot apart, to be exact. “I gotta get dressed, weirdo.” You try to sound humorous, but the breath accompanying your words sounds bated and unexpectedly airy.

In that second, all while you trace the outline of Vernon’s lips with your eyes, you wonder if maybe it would be so bad to skip the date altogether and do something else. Anything else. As long as you didn’t have to leave the house or Vernon.

“Right,” he whispers, but has no intention to walk closer to the bedroom door. Slowly, his eyes go a fraction wider than they normally do.

Like a silent cue, he steps away and fumbles over his words. “Okay well, good luck and—Sorry, I just—I’ll see you at Seuncheol’s after. You can tell us how it went. That is if you want to!��� He stutters, right as he hits the back of his head against the door.

“Hansol! Are you okay—“

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He takes his beanie off to rub the sore spot. “Don’t worry about me. You don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you later!” He races out of the apartment, mumbling and clutching his head. 

While you curl your hair and put on your favorite pair of jeans for your date, your mind goes back to the look in Vernon’s eyes and the thoughts that raced in your head before he took off. And you speculate about what those two things mean, and if they mean anything at all.

“He didn’t even kiss you? What a dumbass.” Vernon mumbles, grabbing his mocha latte. He takes a vigorous sip, humming at the warmth it brings.

“I know. Now pass me a Splenda packet, please?” You pout. Well-adjusted adults would normally be at home and in bed at ten in the evening. But for you and Vernon, you decide on hanging out in your favorite late-night coffee shop for pastries and cold brew. It was better than sitting around at Seungcheol’s, the usual festivities of weed and alcohol not hitting the same way. You both settled on an alternative to fill your time instead.

“How did it go exactly,” Vernon asks, his voice garbled from the cheese danish he stuffed into his mouth.

“Well, I made it to the restaurant and he was there already, which was nice. But as soon as we started talking about ourselves, he was so flat.”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrow furrow, clearly confused.

“He was just very one-dimensional.”

“How so?”

“I mean, he was either talking about accounting, his accountant friends, or his work projects. Maybe it was better that he didn't kiss me. It might have been as boring as his capacity for communication.” You both share a laugh.

“So, I guess this means you don’t want a boring guy who presses his suits and plays golf on the weekends,” Vernon teases with a grin. You shove him playfully in the arm.

“That’s not the point! I mean, yeah, I don’t mind if a guy is serious, but I want someone who makes me laugh too. Who I don’t have to worry about liking my jokes but also sets a table or buys me flowers once and awhile.” You sigh.

While on your diatribe, Vernon grabbed your vanilla bean frappuccino. In a second, he has your straw in his mouth for a long sip. He smiles when he passes your drink back to you, unapologetic. “Someone who steals your drink for himself?”

You throw a napkin at him in retaliation. “I hate you!”

“Everything okay here, miss?” The barista asks, his name-tag shining against the dim lamps surrounding the cafe.

“We’re all good—Joshua—thank you.” You give him your best smile, to which he flashes his own at you. His teeth sparkle as much as his name-tag does, you think to yourself.

“Just Josh, please. The only one who uses my full name is my mother.”

You two exchange a chuckle, and you notice Vernon is not laughing or smiling at all. His eyes are mere slits, you can barely see the brown in his irises. His mouth follows in the same fashion, but downturned at the corners if anyone was paying close attention.

Joshua hands you a packet of chocolate-covered almonds, and he blushes. “They go really great with the frappes.”

“Oh thank you, but I didn’t—”

“It’s on the house. As long as you keep coming back.” Joshua turns to walk back to the coffee bar, suddenly tense as he leaves you and Vernon at your table.

Looking back to your best friend, you can see why. The original expression on his face has changed to pure anger. Vernon looks like he wants to blip the poor barista out of existence, and his long, hard stare in the guy’s direction might just make his wish come true.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” you ask Vernon directly.

When he turns to look at you, the stone in his expression softens a touch. “That guy seems like a creep.”

“He was just being nice!”

“He gave you a pack of nuts. Who does that?” He scoffs outwardly, and you can’t help but laugh. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Next time a cute guy gives me a snack, I’ll make sure you vet him first.” You wink at Vernon, but he remains hard-pressed. “Come on, don’t be jealous!”

“Of coffee boy? Please.” Vernon shrugs off your comment and crosses his arms. Something unreadable passes over his face for a brief moment. You would ask him about it, but you know the man is anything but overly emotional or easily vulnerable.

You try anyway. “Han, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and gets up to throw away his coffee, half unfinished. “Nothing, I’m fine,” he lies, looking away from you with a cold lilt to his tone. “Let’s get out of here.”

The sound of Vernon’s voicemail causes you to grunt in frustration, the beginning of the message you practically know by heart now. After the stint in the coffee-shop, Vernon walked you home without a word and hasn’t interacted with you since then. After being left on read for the past three days, you are all kinds of antsy. Normally, he would text or call instantly with a reason, but it’s been nothing but silence on his end. Your black phone screen makes you rub your temples. What did you do wrong?

“At this point we should send a carrier pigeon,” Lisa says with a shake of her head. 

“She’s got it bad, babe,” Hoshi comments with a wink in your direction. He kisses Lisa on the cheek on his way to their kitchen. 

When things went wrong, it was second nature to confide in Lisa and Hoshi. Two childhood friends turned dance prodigies and then inseparable lovers? They sounded like the plot of a bestselling romance novel. And admittedly, you wish you could find what they had. Why did you have to encounter so many red flags and road blocks?

“I mean, we all know you’ve been down for him for…three years now?”

“Shut up, Soon!” You exclaim, blushing. “I just don’t know why he’s gone AWOL on me.”

“Maybe he’s in a mood. You know him,” Lisa responds.

“Not like this. This is the longest we’ve ever gone without even sending an emoji to each other,” you say with a frown. You scroll through your conversation, the endless blue bubbles making your stomach sink further.

“He’s gonna be at Wooz’s tomorrow night for that party,” Hoshi says with the slam of the fridge door. You nod your head, already aware. Hoshi smirks. “Corner him there.”

Vernon was closer friends than you were with Woozi, someone you knew in passing because of his relationship with your best friend. But you had been to the guy’s apartment many times before. It wouldn’t be weird to attend, sans Vernon. Right?

“Fuck it,” you think out loud. “Lisa, can I borrow an outfit?”

The party is in full swing by the time you arrive. Chan answers the door with a grin, patting you on the shoulder when you step through the threshold. Woozi and Seungcheol are karaoke battling in Woozi’s living room while the rest of the partygoers are either drinking beer or in circles puffing and passing.

You decline when Minghao tries to hand you his half of a joint, a dopey grin plastered on his face. You want to be sober when you confront your best friend for leaving you in the dark for half of the week, even if you know it’ll take the edge off of your nerves.

When you find Vernon, he’s grabbing a hard lemonade from the spare cooler on top of Woozi’s counter. His eyes, the usual white around his irises pink from the party favors, go wide when he sees you. “Fuck me,” he says out loud.

“Yeah, fuck you is right,” you bite back. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

His mouth is agape, giving no attempt to provide an answer. no answer. You get angrier the longer the seconds go by without one.

“Okay, how about an easier question: Why couldn’t you respond with a thumbs up or something when I asked if you were still alive?”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, another curse leaving his lips.

“Fine. Keep being weird about whatever the fuck is wrong. I wanted to try and make sure my best friend was okay, but he can’t even give me a solid explanation as to why he’s being a dickhead.”

Vernon takes your hand and walks quickly with you in tow. The people you pass move out of his way before they get body-slammed, some of them confused while others are too drunk or high to care. 

When you make it to a bathroom off of the hallway, Vernon closes the door behind you and locks it. He takes a second before turning to you with a solemn expression. 

“We can’t be friends anymore.” The words that leave his mouth break your heart to pieces and steal any semblance of air from your lungs. You didn’t expect to come into tonight and lose a friend, especially when you were unsure of what you did to cause Vernon to feel that way.

Your eyes begin to water with tears, but you don’t let them run over. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I’m saying I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Your voice grows thin. You’re confused how every word from his mouth sounds more sure than the one before while you’re falling apart.

But, even though he keeps up a composed posture, you can tell something inside of him is cracking. His bottom lip is caught in his teeth and his hands are fidgeting, two signs something is bugging him beyond his will.

“Please just tell me what I did wrong and I can fix it. I can’t help make this better if you don’t tell me what—”

In a second, Vernon has your back pinned against the bathroom counter. His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, giving your quick gasp no time to leave your mouth. He swipes his teeth over your bottom lip while his hands roam from your waist to the expanse of your hips.

When you separate for breath, you look deep into his eyes. Vernon’s expression brims with naked emotions, ones undecorated and unprepared, ones he cannot hide anymore. “If that’s the only time I got to do that when I’ve wanted to for so long, I had to make it count.” His confession should feel like a shock, something you were not ready for and quick to play off as an after effect of the joints he’s been smoking for the past couple hours, but it doesn't.

Instead, you accept it, with open arms and without a first or second thought to the contrary.

You soak in his words willingly, knowing for certain your heart wasn’t just wishing for someone. It was always wishing, comparing, waiting…for him.

The shuffle into your apartment is so quick you don’t hear Vernon close the door and lock it behind you. Even though you spent enough time pressed against each other in Woozi’s bathroom, the sticky and sweet feelings coming back to you in flashes, Vernon did not let go of your hand the entire walk home from the party. “It was so cold outside, I’m sure my nose is red.” Looking in the hallway mirror, you frown. “Yeah. I look like a reindeer.” You pout, falling into a fit of laughter. 

Vernon chuckles, releasing his hand from yours to place on your cheek, his fingers oddly warm. He kisses the tip of your nose lovingly. “You’re a cute reindeer, if that helps,” He says. Stepping away from you, he takes off his jacket and places it on the coat-rack. “A few minutes with the heater on and it’ll feel like summer in here.”

“Don’t make me sweat, weirdo.”

Despite knowing how the timbre of his laughter felt against your neck, you knew those things didn’t compare to the candid moments that made you love him. He didn’t take notice of the squinted shape of his eyes reading his phone screen, or even the press of his hand against your back to make you feel safe. But you did, every instance more clear than they’ve ever been before. They were so minuscule on their own, but when they were all stacked together in every year and tear and smile, it was a wonder how you didn’t know you fell in love with him so long ago. 

You don’t have to tell him you feel that way, though. He can see it in the stillness of your eyes, in the small and tender smile painting your mouth, in the red tint of your cheeks. He has felt the same too many times to count. You claimed his heart for all the reasons he claimed yours. Of course, it took you both almost half a decade to realize it.

He steps closer, a breath separating your bodies. Taking your hand in his, he kisses each finger before pressing his lips to the knuckles. You grin wider and rest your head on his chest. It’s a tiny marvel to feel the steady thrum of his heart against your ear, all the times being strictly platonic. Its tempo is a soft rhythm that has sent you to sleep on multiple occasions during sleepovers and movie marathons. Now, it’s as if the rhythm sounds different, beating with an entirely different meaning. You suddenly feel shy with him this close, the silent actions speaking for themselves.

“Are you tired,” he asks, lips brushing the curve of your scalp.

You shake your head. “No. I’ve never felt more awake.” You look up at him, a realization at the forefront of your mind. While you may have been together all night, and your mutual confession in Woozi’s bathroom was barely two hours ago, it feels like a world away since you last touched him. Intent, charged with what needs to be spoken and doesn’t, too vivid to go unnoticed.

Like the blunt release of a bowstring, it’s a sudden rush of lips gravitating to each other. The sensation is a mix of desire and affection with the words that you both were too scared to say blended in: I love you and I want you and I need you and I don’t know how I’ll ever stop.

The sun bleeds through your curtains, and normally you would trudge to the window to close them shut and fall back asleep peacefully. This time, though, you don’t mind it when you see the rise and fall of Vernon’s chest in the sunlight, all while feeling his arms wrapped around you. You know you could watch him sleep all day, the gape of his mouth so kissable and the warmth of his skin calling to be savored. However, those thoughts come to a halt when the sudden desire to grab something to drink hits you. Hating to leave him, you press a soft kiss to Vernon’s temple.

You take an old button-up of his from your closet and tiptoe to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You know your bed is a room away, but you gulp down the drink to make it there faster. Of course, when you walk back into your room, you see an awake Vernon with a hand propped behind his head. His eyes are droopy, but a sugary smile sits on his lips nonetheless, taking in your article of clothing. “Is that my shirt?”

You grin, a blush creeping on your face. “You left it here, so that makes it mine.” On some level, you had worried this morning would be awkward no matter how many times you had said you loved each other the night before. Still, the ease of falling into your shared banter and routine comforts you.

“Point taken. You look cuter than I do in it, anyway.” 

Vernon pats the empty spot next to him you were previously occupying, and you have no qualms crawling back into it and into his arms. “Does that mean I can wear all of your shirts when I want? I mean, since I look so cute in them,” you joke, kissing several spots on his jawline.

“I'll accept it.”

You giggle into his neck. “And you’re the only one I’ll share all of my terrible jokes with and take with me to Taco Tuesdays.”

Vernon smirks. “That’s what we do anyway.”

“Well, call the kissing an added bonus then, since we’re in love and all.”

The laugh that leaves his lips stops your heart, and you wonder if it’s possible to pack away a sound in your mind for every good and bad day, just to recall this moment. “Deal.”

With that, he places a kiss on your lips as the sun continues gleaming through your window.

You spend the rest of the early morning that way, wrapped up in each other and not bothering to go outside. You two spend the rest of the day cuddled up on your couch with Chinese takeout, reminiscing about the past, but ready to find out where the future takes you both. Lucky for you, with the way Vernon looks into your eyes, loses his train of thought every time you kiss him, and finds it again when you smile, the future has the potential to be pretty beautiful.

@hyperdramas @tocupid @hursheys @slytherinshua @yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[latanyalove]

Stay the Night with Me

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Pairing: Eustass Kid x Y/N

Dialogue: “Stay the night with me. Please…” 🧲😡

A/n: It's very long so get ready for this 9,413 long story which is also going to have a Part 2 :) .I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

Taglist: @stuckinthewrongworld for the idea!

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"Stay the night with me. Please…" The plea hung in the air, charged with emotion. The magnetism of desire clashed with a hint of frustration.

The request was simple yet layered with unspoken words, begging for a response. The intensity of the moment lingered, waiting for a decision to be made.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with anticipation and uncertainty.

Each heartbeat echoed loudly in the room, underscoring the weight of the request and the gravity of the unspoken emotions that hung in the air. . . .

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Eustass Kid, also known as the "Captain" of the Kid Pirates, is a notorious and feared pirate in the One Piece world. With his magnetic powers and fiery temper, he is not someone to be messed with.

Eustass Kid strikes fear into the hearts of both his allies and enemies alike, as his magnetic powers allow him to manipulate and control metal with deadly precision.

Combined with his explosive temper, he is a truly terrifying force to reckon with on the high seas. 

You, being the newest member of the Straw Hat Pirates, had heard of the infamous Eustass Kid and his crew. They were known for their brutal methods and lack of mercy towards their enemies.

So when your crew unexpectedly crossed paths with the Kid Pirates, you were on high alert.

Luffy and the rest of the crew seemed more relaxed with the Kid Pirates, maybe it was because they had defeated many enemies side by side or maybe Luffy was too gullible into trusting him so easily.

But not you. You weren't going to fall for his tricks.

You sat far from the group, who looked like they were having the time of their lives, while you glared straight at the red-haired pirate with cautious eyes. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to Eustass Kid than meets the eye, and you vowed to keep a close watch on him, ready to defend yourself and your crew if necessary.

"Hey, why aren't you with the group celebrating?" Nami said curiously behind you.

Startled by Nami's sudden voice, you turned around quickly, trying to hide your unease. "Oh, I just needed some fresh air," you replied, forcing a smile.

"So why are you staring at Kidd like that?" Nami teased, sitting beside you.

You hesitated for a moment, then leaned in closer to whisper, "I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about him just doesn't sit right with me. I think there's more to him than meets the eye, and I don't trust him."

"Or maybe," Nami started, leaning closer, "You just like him,"

"No way!" you jumped back, feeling your face heat up. "That's not it at all! I just have a gut feeling about him, that's all."

Nami smirked mischievously and nudged your shoulder. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

Nami then stood up, said goodbye, and walked over to the group, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you continued to observe Eustass Kid from afar, you couldn't help but wonder what secrets he was hiding beneath that intimidating exterior. . . .

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The atmosphere suddenly shifted as Sanji and some of Kid's crew finished preparing the feast. The cheers and laughter grew louder, and even Luffy couldn't contain his excitement.

"Y/N, the food is ready," You opened your eyes to see Killer standing over you, his mask covering his face as usual.

Killer, the stoic and enigmatic member of the Kid Pirates, rarely showed any emotion. His mask concealed his face, adding to the air of mystery surrounding him. It was hard to read his intentions or gauge his reactions, making him an even more intriguing figure to watch closely.

As he extended a hand to help you up, you couldn't help but wonder what lies behind that enigmatic facade.

With a yawn, you took his hand and stood up, ready to join the festivities.

Unfortunately, you had to sit beside Kid to eat as all the other seats were taken. As you took your place beside him, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease and curiosity, wondering what secrets he was hiding and if they would ever come to light.

As you ate, you noticed that Kid was always tense even when he laughed, his body language betraying a constant state of alertness. It was as if he carried a weight on his shoulders, constantly on guard.

It only fueled your suspicion that there was indeed something more to him than meets the eye.

Suddenly, Kid stopped eating, his eyes darting around the room with a heightened sense of vigilance. His grip on his utensils tightened, and a frown creased his forehead as if he had sensed something amiss.

"I have to go," he said, suddenly standing up and walking over to where the ships were anchored.

Everyone was confused for a while but then they went back to talking to each other except Killer.

Killer's gaze remained fixed on the spot where Kid had disappeared to, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. It was clear that he knew more than he let on, and you couldn't help but wonder what he had seen or sensed that made him so focused on Kid's departure.

Despite Killer's intense gaze and the mysterious departure of Kid, you chose to dismiss any concerns and immerse yourself in the joyous celebration.

It was a time to revel in the camaraderie and enjoy the feast, leaving any thoughts of hidden secrets and enigmatic figures for another day.

As the night wore on and the merriment continued, you found yourself in a friendly competition with Zoro to see who could hold their liquor better.

Shots were poured and downed, laughter and cheers filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, all thoughts of Kid and his mysterious aura faded away as you focused on the exhilarating challenge at hand.

"Okay, I give up," you declared, placing the bowl back onto the table. The drinking competition had taken its toll, and you were finally admitting defeat.

As you leaned back in your chair, feeling the effects of the alcohol, your mind couldn't help but wander back to the enigmatic figure of Kid and the unanswered questions that still lingered in the air.

As you stumbled away from the festivities, a nagging thought tugged at the back of your mind, reminding you that there was still much to uncover about Kid and the secrets he held.

As you stumbled towards the ships, the sound of a muffled voice reached your ears, growing louder with each step.

It sounded like a scream, piercing through the night air with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. Your heart raced as you followed the sound, the darkness shrouding the source of the scream adding to the sense of unease and mystery that surrounded Kid's sudden departure.

You quickened your pace towards the ships, your footsteps echoing through the quiet night. Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated through the air, causing the Kid Pirates' ship to tremble slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realised that there was more to Kid's disappearance than meets the eye.

It was when you saw something red out of the corner of your eye, but it disappeared as soon as you turned to get a better look. The fleeting glimpse left you with a sense of unease and a nagging feeling that there was a deeper mystery surrounding Kid's disappearance.

"I can help you!" you yelled, your voice slurred because of the alcohol. But your words seemed to get lost in the night, swallowed by the darkness and the unsettling silence that followed.

Your vision then went black, and you went unconscious, collapsing onto the ground. The last thing you heard before succumbing to darkness was the distant sound of footsteps approaching, leaving you with an unsettling sense of dread and the lingering question of what had truly transpired that night. . . .

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You woke up with a massive headache, the events of the previous night still hazy in your mind. As you tried to piece together the fragments of your memory, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something sinister had unfolded while you were unconscious.

You didn't remember how you had ended up in bed yesterday, yet here you were, tucked in your bed with no recollection of how you got there.

The missing hours only added to the mysterious puzzle surrounding Kid's disappearance, leaving you desperate for answers and determined to uncover the truth.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, wincing as the throbbing pain intensified. The room spun as you stood up, and you had to steady yourself against the dresser.

As you stumbled towards the bathroom, you couldn't help but wonder if the events of the night before were somehow connected to your own sudden blackout.

You splashed cold water on your face, hoping to clear your mind and shake off the remnants of the alcohol-induced haze.

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but notice a faint red mark on your neck, as if someone had grabbed you forcefully.

The realisation sent a shiver down your spine, as you began to suspect that there might have been more to your blackout than just excessive drinking. The red mark on your neck hinted at a possible altercation or even an encounter with someone who had a vested interest in Kid's disappearance.

Feeling a renewed sense of urgency, you quickly changed your clothes and headed out, determined to retrace your steps from the night before and gather any clues that could shed light on what had happened during your blackout.

As you walked onto the deck of the Thousand Sunny, the talking became louder, and you realised that the voices were coming from your crewmates and Kid's crew who were gathered around, deep in conversation.

"Who could have made such a big hole?"

"Maybe there's a wild animal around. Hehehe!"

"Ahhh! I think I have a wild-monster phobia!"

Curious about their discussion, you jumped off the ship and landed close by. Nami, who seemed relieved to see you, looked over at you and gestured you over.

"Apparently someone or something made a hole in Kid's ship, which means that they can't sail for a while," Nami explained, her voice filled with concern.

As you joined the group, you couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling in your gut. The timing of this incident and your blackout seemed too coincidental, making you wonder if there was a connection between the two.

"We're trying to figure out who or what could have done it. Any ideas? You were the second to leave after Kid left."

You looked around but he wasn't there. "Where is Kid?" you asked anxiously, scanning the faces of your crewmates for any sign of him.

"He's still asleep," Nami replied, her brow furrowed with worry. "Killer mentioned that Kid was knocked out cold when he checked on him earlier. So, it couldn't have been him who made the hole in the ship."

So who did you see then? Maybe it was your mind tricking you but then why do you have a mark in your neck?

As you went over to look at the damage, you noticed a familiar scent lingering in the air - the same scent that had filled your nostrils during your blackout.

This realisation made your heart race, as you began to suspect that the person responsible for the hole in Kid's ship was none other than the one who had grabbed you forcefully.

"What's that mark on your neck?" a voice said behind you, causing you to turn around in surprise.

It was Killer, Kid's loyal right-hand man, who had a concerned look on his face as he pointed at the mark.

He was looking at you with a mix of concern and suspicion, as if he already knew the answer to his own question.

"I don't know," you stated, fully facing him, "but it looks like you do." The intensity of the situation heightened as you locked eyes with Killer, realising that he might hold the key to uncovering the truth behind both the hole in the ship and your mysterious mark.

Killer sighed before gesturing over to the bench nearby, indicating that you should sit down and have a serious conversation. It seemed that he was ready to reveal the truth behind the incident and the mark on your neck, finally shedding light on the unsettling events that had taken place.

Reluctantly, you took a seat next to Killer, your heart pounding with anticipation. As he reached out to examine the mark on your neck, you flinched, still wary of his intentions.

"Trust me," Killer said softly, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I had nothing to do with this. But there's something you need to know, something that might explain everything."

The mark on your neck was unlike anything you had ever seen before. It was a metalic, etched into your skin with roughness and harshness. As Killer carefully inspected the mark, you couldn't help but notice his focused expression.

After a few moments, he retrieved a small bottle from his pouch and showing it to you.

"What is it?"

"It's a medicine for when we get hurt by...." Killer paused, dropping a few drops of the medicine into his hands and rubbing them together.

"By what?"

"By Kid," Killer replied, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and concern. "There is a time every year around now when Kid is not himself. At first, it wasn't bad but now, it's unbearable to even hear his anguishing yells."

"So it was him that was yelling yesterday," you muttered to yourself, finally connecting the dots.

"Why are you telling me this?" you turned to him, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. Killer met your gaze, his eyes filled with determination.

"Because you're the only one who can help us stop him," he said, his voice steady.

"I've heard about your devil fruit," Killer said, his voice hopeful. "You can remove pain away from a person, right? We believe that your ability is the key to stopping Kid and preventing further harm."

You kept quiet, thinking about the weight of the responsibility that had just been placed upon you. It was a daunting task, but deep down, you knew that if there was a chance to stop Kid and protect others from his uncontrollable rage, you had to take it.

"I don't know if it will work," you explained, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Usually, my ability works to alleviate pain that is inflicted by a person or object. I've never tried to remove pain that is generated by the body itself. But I'm willing to give it a try if it means stopping Kid and protecting others from harm."

Killer nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "We understand the risks," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "But we believe in your power and know that you're our best chance to bring an end to Kid's torment."

"Okay, I can try, but there is no guarantee that something will happen," you cautiously agreed. "I'll do my best to use my ability and see if I can alleviate Kid's pain. But we need to be prepared for the possibility that it might not work."

"That's all I ask for," Killer said, gratitude evident in his voice.

As soon as you touched your neck, you felt like nothing was there. It was as if there was nothing there in the first place.

Though before you could compliment the medicine and its effectiveness, a voice caught your attention from far away.

"Jaggy! You're finally awake! Your ship has a hole. Shishishi!" Luffy's voice yelled, interrupting the serious conversation.

"Stupid monkey! You probably broke it!" Kid's voice yelled, frustration evident in his tone.

You quickly stood up and ran over to where the voice came from, eager to see what was happening and hoping that Luffy hadn't caused too much trouble.

As soon as you came into view, Kid caught you immediately and had eye contact. His expression turned from frustration to surprise, and for a moment, you could see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Jaggy! Where are you going?"

"Away from here."

You quickly walked closer to them, realising what Kid was trying to do. He was trying to distance himself from the vulnerability he had shown in that moment, pushing you away to protect himself from further emotional exposure.

"Y/N, where did you come from?" Luffy commented.

"I came to talk to Kid," you answered, your voice calm and determined.

Kid halted and turned around to face you, his eyes locked with yours. There was a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his gaze as he carefully studied your expression.

He then walked over and towered over you, his imposing figure casting a shadow. The intensity of his gaze did not waver as he leaned in closer, as if trying to unravel the mystery behind your calm and determined demeanor.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism.

"I know what you're facing. Let me help you," you muttered, your voice filled with empathy and understanding. Kid's skepticism softened slightly, and he took a step back, allowing a brief moment of vulnerability to flicker across his face once again.

His gaze shifted from Killer, who stood in the distance, to you, and then back again. It was clear that Kid was torn between trusting you and protecting himself.

"You can't help me, no one can," Kid muttered in frustration, turning around to walk away from you.

As you watched him walk away, you crossed your arms, a determined look in your eyes.

"I knew he was going to do this," Killer said, now standing beside you, "you don't have to try anymore," he reassured you, his voice filled with concern. But you couldn't give up that easily. You knew that behind Kid's tough exterior, there was someone who needed to be understood and supported.

"But I can't just give up on him," you replied, your voice filled with determination. "He may push me away now, but I believe that deep down, he still needs someone to understand and support him."

Despite his resistance, you knew that you wouldn't give up on him that easily. You were determined to break down the walls he had built around himself and show him that he didn't have to face his struggles alone.

Plus, the quicker you can help him, the quicker his ship will be fixed and the both of your crew can separate and probably never see each other again.

You were doing it solely for the sake of fixing his ship and ensuring the smooth separation of your crew, with no ulterior motives or personal gain involved. . . .

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The ship was going to take a while to repair by Franky's calculations so you had a lot of time to study Kid and the pain he was having.

Fortunately Robin was interested in basically anything to do with pain so it was easy enough to find a collection of books about the pain that Kid was feeling.

As you got to know Eustass Kid better through Killer's stories, you learned about his arm and the constant phantom pain he experienced. Despite his tough exterior, you could see the pain in his eyes whenever he clenched his fist or winced in discomfort.

You would spend nights upon nights reading about the phantom pain and how to release the pain but there was nothing like that. The thing you discovered in your research was that phantom pain is a complex phenomenon that is not fully understood, and there is no definitive method to release or eliminate the pain.

One thing you were determined to find out was whether your devil fruit powers could somehow alleviate Kid's phantom pain. You knew that even if there was no specific information on it, you wouldn't give up without trying every possible solution.

Even though Kid had started to avoid you after you confronted him, you were determined to find a way to help him. You believed that your devil fruit powers had the potential to alleviate his phantom pain, and you were willing to try every possible solution, regardless of his avoidance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

One night, both of the crew members were sitting by the fire after a long day of repairing Kid's ship and you made sure you were sitting beside Kid.

As the night went on, you watched Kid carefully for any signs of pain, hoping for an opportunity to test your theory. You then noticed a slight grimace on his face as he shifted in his seat. It was a subtle but telling indication that the phantom pain was still present.

You could see the pain etched on his face and without thinking, you reached out and gently placed your hand on his amputated arm.

To your surprise, Eustass Kid's tense muscles began to relax and the pain seemed to subside.

So your devil fruit does work on the pain that is generated by the body.

He looked at you with shock in his eyes, unable to believe that the pain he had been carrying for so long had finally eased. Kid's expression softened, and a mix of gratitude and disbelief crossed his face as he whispered, "How... how did you do that?"

"I told you that I could help you," you muttered, letting go of his arm. "Now don't you feel better?"

He nodded, still speechless, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

It was a moment of validation for both of you, confirming that your determination and belief in your devil fruit powers had paid off in helping alleviate Kid's phantom pain.

"Good, now I'll be going to sleep early," you muttered, standing up and walking back to the ship.

Usually when you used your devil fruit on people who are injured, you would only get the smallest headache and that was hardly the case but when you used it on Kid, you felt like all of your energy was drained out of you.

As you made your way back to the ship, you could feel Kid's gaze burning into your back. His eyes followed your figure, filled with a mix of shock and disbelief. It was clear that the impact of your ability to alleviate his phantom pain had left him speechless, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

"What happened?" Killer asked, nudging Kid's arm, breaking the silence that had settled over the two of them.

Kid looked at him, his expression still filled with shock and disbelief, before finally finding his voice. "I don't know," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "But whatever it was, it worked."

"What worked?"

Kid stated, his voice filled with awe, "She stopped my phantom pain, just like she said she would."

"Really! Hehehe, that's great!" Killer replied, "I knew she could do it."

"I want her to be in my crew," Kid muttered to him, his voice filled with a newfound determination.

"What did you say-"

"Hey Luffy! Let Y/N join my crew!" Kid yelled to Luffy, who was sitting at the other side of the table.

The rest of the crew turned their heads in surprise, but Luffy simply grinned and nodded. "Sure, why not? But Y/N has to agree to it first."

"Huh!" the crew members said in unison, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief. They had never expected Kid to make such a sudden request, especially considering how fiercely independent he had always been.

Kid grinned to himself as he drank the alcohol, his mind filled with excitement and anticipation. . . .

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You didn't know why, but you noticed that Kid was staring at you more often, his eyes lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

It seemed that your ability to reduce his phantom pain had sparked a newfound interest in you, and he couldn't help but wonder what other hidden talents you possessed.

You didn't pay any mind to it. It was normal to be interested in someone if they helped you get over a pain that affected you.

The feeling would fade eventually and when that happens, the both of you will be separated into your crews and we will be enemies again.

However, despite his initial interest in you, Kid hardly came to you anymore for his phantom pain. It seemed that your ability had truly worked, providing him with the relief he needed.

As a result, the connection between the two of you began to fade, and the reality of being enemies once again became evident.

For some reason, you couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness as the connection between you and Kid began to fade.

Even though you knew it was inevitable, a part of you had grown accustomed to his presence and the brief moments of camaraderie. As the reality of being enemies once again became evident, you couldn't shake off the feeling of longing for that connection.

So much for doing it solely for the sake of fixing his ship and ensuring the smooth separation of your crew, with no ulterior motives or personal gain involved.

"Ahhh! Y/N! Y/N!" Usopp's voice came to play, waking you from your thoughts as you remembered that you were doing a job before you started to contemplate.

You turn around to see the long-nosed Usopp running towards you, holding his back in pain. It seems like he's injured himself again during the job, and you can't help but sigh, realising that there's always something happening when you're part of this crew.

"What happened, Usopp?" you ask, concerned.

"Luffy hit me with a big plank and now I think I'm going to die," Usopp cried out, rubbing his back.

You sighed again, "You're not going to die Usopp,"

"You're just being dramatic as usual," you said with a smile, as you activated your healing ability and placed your hand on Usopp's back, extracting his pain with a gentle touch.

The familiar warmth flowed through your fingertips, relieving his discomfort and reminding you once again of the unique gift you possessed.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Usopp said gratefully, giving you a hug before running back to where he came from.

As you watched him go, a bittersweet feeling washed over you. While you were glad to have the ability to help your crewmates, it also served as a constant reminder of the inevitable separation of Kid and returning to being enemies.

When you turned around to walk away, your eyes were met with red/orange ones in the shadows of the trees, which belonged to Kid. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, making it clear that the connection between the two of you was far from faded, and the lines between friend and foe were blurred once again.

"Kid, is something the matter?"

"N-no, there's nothing," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper, as he turned around to walk away.

But the lingering tension in the air and the unspoken words between you both made it clear that there was definitely something bothering him.

You ran over to him and stood in front, blocking his way, as another sigh escaped your lips.

You could feel the tension in the air as Kid's face turned red. It was clear that something was bothering him, but he seemed hesitant to share it with you.

You stood in front of him, blocking his way, and asked again, "Kid, is something wrong? You can tell me."

"It hurts again," Kid muttered, gesturing to his amputated arm. His face was twisted in pain and his body contorted as if he was suffering greatly.

You smiled warmly before placing your hand gently on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. With a firm grip, you slowly began to massage the area, applying just the right amount of pressure to extract the pain and ease his discomfort.

As you worked your magic, you could feel his muscles relaxing and his breathing becoming more steady. Finally, after a few minutes, you removed your hand and looked up at him with a reassuring smile, knowing that you had helped alleviate his pain.

Kid, slightly gasping for breath, looked down at you and managed to utter a sincere "Thank you".

You graciously responded, "You're welcome. You know you can always ask me to do that for you, I am at your service."

Kid, feeling embarrassed, averted his gaze and turned away. As he did so, he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head, perhaps hoping to distract himself from the awkward situation.

"I wanted to apologise," he started, his tone contrite and apologetic. He looked directly into your eyes, hoping to convey the sincerity of his words.

His heart felt heavy with regret as he continued to speak, "I remember that I held you wrongly and caused a mark to be on your neck."

"Ah, that thing is what you are referring to!" you exclaimed, your mind drawing a blank for a moment before you realised what it was that was being discussed.

"I am truly sorry for my actions and the hurt they caused. Please forgive me."

"It's completely understandable that you reacted the way you did. Given the pain you were experiencing at that time, it's natural to respond in a way that reflects your emotions."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, looking down at his feet.

You expressed doubt with the question, "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

His eyes widened with astonishment as he gazed upward, caught off guard by your words.

"Yeah you are still alive," he replied, his voice slightly hesitant and reserved.

"Good, if not, who would be able to stop you from making another hole on your ship," You joked.

Eustass Kid's flushed and red face perfectly complemented his lipstick as he was overcome with a mix of emotions, causing his blood to rush to his cheeks.

The vibrant hue of his makeup reflected the intensity of his feelings, creating a striking and powerful appearance that captured the attention of everyone around him.

"I made something for you," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Curiosity piqued, you gently probed, "What is it?"

Sheepishly, he handed you a small, beautifully crafted necklace. The intricate design and attention to detail spoke volumes about the effort he had put into making it, leaving you touched and speechless.

Taking a closer look at the small, beautifully crafted necklace, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. "Kid, it's beautiful," you said breathless at the sight of it.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" you chuckled, teasingly.

Kid's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he stammered, "I-I wanted to make something special for you...to show you how sorry I am."

"Thank you so much, Kid. This means the world to me."

Kid nodded before walking away nervously, a mixture of relief and anxiety evident in his movements. The weight of his apology and the vulnerability he had shown hung in the air, leaving you with a newfound understanding of his sincerity and the depth of his remorse.

You smiled, touched by Kid's gesture, before delicately tying the necklace around your neck. As the pendant rested against your chest, the cool metal against your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of forgiveness.

It's not like being friends with him is against your own rules right?

As you felt your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if your feelings for Kid went beyond friendship. The intensity of your emotions raised questions about the nature of your relationship and whether it was possible to cross that line without breaking your own rules.

There was no point in even thinking about it. After all, you were just a mere crew member and he was part of The Worst Generation.

The boundaries between friendship and something more were blurry, but you knew that navigating the complexities of a romantic relationship with Kid would be a challenge you weren't sure you were ready to take on.

But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that Kid's gesture meant more than just pity. The sincerity in his eyes and the effort he had put into making the necklace hinted at something deeper, something that made you question the boundaries of your relationship.

"This is too much," you muttered to yourself before you walked to where you were supposed to be 20 minutes ago. As you hurriedly made your way to your destination, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - gratitude, confusion, and a lingering curiosity about what could lie beyond the boundaries of friendship with Kid. . . .

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Nami laughed teasingly, "I told you that you loved him!"

"Come on, Nami, don't start with that again," you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

"So it took you three weeks to figure out your feelings," Nami stated as she peeled a tangerine. "That's a slow burn if I've ever seen one."

"Why don't you stop judging and give me advice?" you muttered, stealing a slice of the tangerine and dropping it into your mouth.

"Advice? Gurl, you need to take your butt out there and tell him how you feel," Nami answered, eating the rest of the tangerine.

"Did you not hear a word of what I just said?" you asked, lying back on the chair.

"Yeah, you don't want to disrupt the relationship between the two pirate crews right?" Nami said with a sly grin. "But hey, sometimes you have to take a risk for love. Who knows, maybe you and Kid could be the ultimate power couple of the seas!"

"That's not real advice, Nami," you groaned into your hands, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. "I can't just jeopardise everything for a potential romance. I need to think this through and consider the consequences."

"You think too much," Nami commented, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes, you just have to follow your heart and take a leap of faith. Life's too short to overthink everything."

As you were going to respond, the door opened and revealed Killer, Kid's first mate and closest confidant. The sight of him caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had overheard your conversation with Nami.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?"

You nodded before saying goodbye to Nami, who had a grin on her face. As you walked towards Killer, you couldn't shake off the feeling that he had indeed heard your conversation. Your heart raced, unsure of what he might say or how he might react.

As you closed the door behind you, you faced Killer and asked, "Is something wrong?" His expression seemed serious, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over you.

"During this day every year, I've recorded that Kid's phantom pain increases threefold," Killer said, his voice filled with concern. "I know you care about him, and I wanted to warn you that he might not be in the best state of mind right now."

"I thought you should know, since you're the only one who seems to have a calming effect on him. It's important that you understand the impact you have on him."

You nodded in understanding, grateful that Killer had shared this information with you. As he started to walk away, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of responsibility towards Kid and his well-being, knowing that your presence had such a profound effect on him.

"Umm, Killer, can I ask you for a favor?" you said hesitantly, hoping he would agree.

He turned around with a curious look, his gaze fixed on you. "Of course, what do you need?" Killer responded, his tone indicating his willingness to help.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I appreciate you providing this room for me", you said, sitting on the new bed.

"It's no problem," Killer said, leaning against the door frame on the other side of the room. "I'm glad I could help. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask."

You nodded, grateful for Killer's support, and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone to gather your thoughts.

Feeling a mix of emotions, you then laid on the bed, trying to process the weight of Killer's words and the newfound responsibility you held in Kid's life.

The room felt heavy with the realization that your presence could make a difference in someone's well-being, and you couldn't help but wonder how you could best support Kid during his struggle with his phantom pain.

"Umm, Killer, can I ask you for a favor?" you said hesitantly, hoping he would agree.

He turned around with a curious look, his gaze fixed on you. "Of course, what do you need?"

"Since Kid may need my help during the night, can I stay over at his ship for tonight?" you asked, hoping that Killer would understand the urgency of the situation.

Killer's expression softened, and he nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, I think that would be a good idea. Kid will appreciate having you there for support."

Why did you ask him that? Why were you on Kid's ship? This was definitely going to cause some problems for both of the crews if they saw where you were.

"You think too much," Nami commented, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes, you just have to follow your heart and take a leap of faith. Life's too short to overthink everything."

You sighed, remembering Nami's words. Sometimes, you just have to trust your instincts and do what feels right in the moment.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as you lay on the bed, knowing that your proximity to Kid's room could potentially complicate things.

There is only one purpose for your presence here, and that is to help Kid.

Laying down on the bed, you tried to get some sleep, hoping that a good night's rest would help clear your mind and prepare you for the challenges ahead. However, thoughts of the potential complications lingered, making it difficult to find peace in the midst of your newfound responsibility.

You held the necklace that Kid made for you tightly, feeling its familiar weight against your chest. It brought you a sense of comfort and reminded you of the connection you shared with Kid.

As you drifted off to sleep, you hoped that your presence on Kid's ship would ultimately bring more good than harm. . . .

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In the eerie darkness, Kid found himself paralysed with fear as he witnessed Victoria, his beloved, trapped in a nightmarish scenario, fading away before his very eyes.

Her anguished cries echoed in the void, sending shivers down his spine. Despite his desperate attempts to reach out and save her, he was rendered powerless, a mere spectator to her tragic demise.

As the nightmare unfolded, a sinister force seemed to take hold of the dream, twisting and distorting reality.

Suddenly, you appeared in the scene, just as you had that fateful night a week ago, drunk and stumbling. Kid's heart raced as he desperately tried to make sense of your presence in this haunting nightmare, unsure of the role you played in the twisted reality unfolding before him.

Kid's body started to move without his command, running towards Y/N. Panic and confusion filled his mind as he tried to regain control, but his limbs seemed to have a will of their own.

The closer he got to Y/N, the more intense the feeling of dread became, as if his own instincts were warning him to stay away.

In a surge of terror and desperation, Kid's hands clenched around Y/N's neck, his grip tightening as he lifted them off the ground. The place filled with the sound of Y/N's gasps for air, mingled with Kid's anguished cries, as the nightmare took a horrifying turn.

"K-Kid, I can help you," you muttered, gasping for air, desperately trying to convey that you were not the enemy in this twisted nightmare. Your words hung in the tense air, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Kid would snap out of it and release his grip on your neck.

Kid also hoped so too, that his body would listen to him and leave you alone.

But of course, since it was a nightmare, Kid's body remained under the control of the sinister force, tightening his grip even further. The glimmer of hope quickly faded as Y/N's vision started to blur, their consciousness slipping away as the nightmare reached its horrifying climax.

Your hand then touched his arm and suddenly Kid felt refreshed, as if a surge of energy had coursed through his veins. The effect of your devil fruit powers seemed to break through the grip of the sinister force, loosening Kid's hold on your neck.

As his senses returned, Kid's eyes widened with horror at what he had almost done, his trembling hands releasing their grip as he fell to his knees, overcome with guilt and relief.

Y/N lay motionless on the ground, gasping for air and clutching your throat, the remnants of Kid's grip still visible on your skin. The weight of guilt and relief washed over Kid, leaving him paralysed with the realisation of what he had almost done.

"Please, not you too," he muttered, his voice filled with a mixture of anguish and desperation, as he stared at your motionless body on the ground. . . .

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Kid woke up in a jolt, sweating profusely. He looked around, relieved to find himself in his own bed, safe and sound.

It took a moment for him to realise that it was all just a nightmare, but the guilt and fear still lingered in his mind.

As the night went on, Eustass Kid's arm continued to bother him. Kid lay awake in the darkness of his quarters aboard the Kid Pirates ship.

The memory of losing his arm in a fierce battle replayed in his mind, causing him to grimace in pain as he felt the phantom ache that still haunted him. The room was suffocatingly silent, except for the occasional creaks and groans of the ship as it managed against the dark waters.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his missing arm, causing Kid to sit upright with a gasp. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he clenched his teeth, trying to push away the pain that felt all too real.

He longed for a distraction, something to take his mind off the agony that had consumed him.

Just then, a soft knock sounded at his door, followed by the creak of the hinges as it opened slowly. Kid's first instinct was to lash out, but he stopped himself when he saw who stood before him - you, your concerned gaze locked on his troubled face.

"I... I heard you groaning in pain. Is everything alright?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.

Kid's initial reaction was to brush you off, to insist that he was fine, that you should leave him be or even question how you were on his ship. But as he saw the genuine concern in your eyes, he hesitated.

For a brief moment, he let his guard down, allowing the vulnerability that he usually kept hidden to surface.

"My arm... it still hurts sometimes but it's worse now. The pain never really goes away at this time," Kid murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Do... you want me to help you?"

At first, Eustass Kid was taken aback by your offer even though you've been helping him for weeks now.

"Yes... please," Kid replied, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, but you also saw the genuine need for companionship. Without a second thought, you agreed to stay.

It's not like anything would happen right?

As you adjusted to the darkness, you realised that Kid was shirtless, revealing the scars that covered his muscular chest and arms. The sight took you by surprise, but you quickly averted your gaze, focusing instead on the pain that was etched across his face.

You slowly walked up to him, his eyes never leaving you. His eyes held a mixture of pain, longing, and vulnerability, as if they were windows to a soul that had experienced more than its fair share of hardships.

In that moment, you could see the depth of his emotions, the weight he carried on his shoulders, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could provide him with the solace he desperately needed.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching over to his amputated hand when he grabbed you with his other hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

"Kid?" you questioned, your voice filled with concern as you met his gaze. "Are you okay? You can talk to me, you know."

Despite the fact that he was generally regarded as an independent person, he could not deny that he had a strong desire for someone to stay with him tonight.

He wanted you. He needed you.

"Stay the night with me. Please..." he finally spoke, his voice laced with vulnerability.

Your eyes widened at his statement, surprised by the depth of his vulnerability and the sincerity in his plea. The weight of his words hung in the air, and you found yourself unable to resist his request.

"I'll stay," you said, your voice gentle and reassuring. "What do you want me to do?"

Kid's reply was a soft whisper, barely audible in the darkness. "Just... stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.

Gently, he pulled you closer by your hand, his touch both tender and desperate, closing the physical distance between you.

The warmth of his touch and the vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that all he needed in that moment was your presence.

Placing your hand close to Kid's head, you felt the softness of Kid's hair against your fingertips, which made your heart skip a beat.

As Kid's hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, a wave of goosebumps cascaded over your body, electrifying every inch of your skin that his touch grazed. The intensity of the moment heightened, revealing the depth of his longing and the raw vulnerability he entrusted to you.

"What do you want?" you repeated, your voice a gentle whisper.

"I want you, even if it's only for tonight," he confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and desperation that sent shivers down your spine.

"What about the others?" you muttered, your mind racing with thoughts of the potential consequences.

"I just want you here with me," Kid replied, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and determination. "I don't care about the others. All I need is you."

"Okay, for tonight," you agreed, your voice filled with understanding.

In that moment, Kid took it as a sign to cup your cheek and lean closer, his lips gently brushing against yours, igniting a fire within both of you.

His lips were soft and warm, molding perfectly against yours as they moved in sync. The gentle pressure and the taste of his kiss sent a rush of heat through your body, making you forget about everything else except the intense connection you shared in that moment.

As the kiss deepened, Kid's tongue gently traced the outline of your lips, seeking permission to explore further. Your heart raced with anticipation as you granted access, allowing the kiss to become even more passionate and intoxicating.

His tongue danced with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth with a hunger that mirrored the intensity of his longing. Every stroke and caress of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, erasing any doubts or hesitations that lingered in your mind. In that moment, all that mattered was the intoxicating taste of him and the electrifying connection you shared.

You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. The intensity of the moment had left you dizzy, and you needed a moment to collect your thoughts and reassess the situation.

Kid's lipstick was definitely smuggled all over your lips, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, a reminder of the passionate connection you had just experienced.

"I like the taste of your lips on mine," he muttered, his voice still filled with longing. The words sent a thrill down your spine, igniting a desire within you that mirrored his own.

"Well, if you like the taste of my lips, maybe you should try them again," you replied with a playful smirk, unable to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you.

"If you're offering, I wouldn't want to deny you another taste," Kid responded with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Only if you promise to make it even more unforgettable than the last time," you said, your voice dripping with seduction.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you, he captured your lips once again, his kiss even more passionate and intoxicating than before.

As you kissed, Kid's hands gently slid down your back, pulling you closer and causing you to straddle him. As the kiss deepened and his hands explored your body, one of Kid's hands slipped under your shirt, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

The touch of his warm skin against yours heightened the intensity of the moment, fuelling the desire that burned between you. . . .

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to the smells heavily of metal and copper, the remnants of the passionate encounter with Kid still fresh in your mind. As you took in the scent, a mix of desire and satisfaction washed over you.

You opened your eyes to see Kid's peaceful face beside you, his breathing steady and his lips slightly parted. The sight filled you with a sense of contentment and a desire to continue exploring the depths of your connection with him.

The sunlight streaming through the curtains caught your attention, and you realised that it was morning. The soft glow illuminated the room, casting a warm, golden hue over the tangled sheets and the two of you intertwined within them

As you watched Kid sleep, a sense of gratitude washed over you, knowing that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

"Okay, for tonight," you agreed, your voice filled with understanding.

The things you said last night haven't escaped your memory.

However, deep down, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness that this passionate encounter with Kid was only meant to be a single night. The bittersweet feeling lingered as you admired Kid's peaceful face, wishing for more moments like these to come.

You slowly got out of his bed, gently releasing Kid's grip and tiptoeing towards the door.

As you looked back at his sleeping form one last time, you couldn't help but wonder if fate had other plans in store for the two of you, and if this unforgettable night was just the beginning of something more. . . .

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Why can't you stop the pain in your heart?As you thought, gripping your shirt, you realised that the pain in your heart cannot be stopped because it is an emotional pain that stems from deep within.

"Stay the night with me. Please..." he finally spoke, his voice laced with vulnerability.

─────────────────────────────────────────

"I'll stay," you said, your voice gentle and reassuring. "What do you want me to do?"

Kid's reply was a soft whisper, barely audible in the darkness. "Just... stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.

─────────────────────────────────────────

The warmth of his touch and the vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that all he needed in that moment was your presence.

Placing your hand close to Kid's head, you felt the softness of Kid's hair against your fingertips, which made your heart skip a beat.

─────────────────────────────────────────

As you ran your fingers over the necklace Kid had made for you, the memories of last night stayed in your mind, reminding you of the deep connection you shared.

You weren't going to deny that you had fallen in love with Kid.

Eustass Kid's vibrant red hair was wild and unkempt, adding to his rugged and unpredictable appearance. The fiery colour of his hair reflected his fiery personality and his willingness to take on any challenge.

He possessed a towering and imposing physique, adorned with a labyrinth of battle scars and metallic implants seamlessly integrated into his arms and shoulders.

You couldn't help but find Kid's rugged appearance and fiery personality incredibly attractive.

"Okay, for tonight," you agreed, your voice filled with understanding.

You remembered the promise you made to him - this was only for one day and at the time, you thought it was enough for you but now you regret it.

You longed for the feeling of his hands on your skin, the way they would trace delicate patterns and send shivers down your spine.

You were torn between your desire for more and your initial agreement to only stay for one night. The memories of his touch haunted you, and you couldn't help but yearn for more than just one night together.

Yet, you knew that breaking your promise would only lead to more complications and heartache.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door, interrupting the bittersweet longing in the air.

"Come in," you said, your voice slightly shaky as you tried to compose yourself. As the door opened, you put on a brave face, hoping that no one would see the traces of tears that lingered in your eyes.

The door revealed Nami with a worried look, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of distress. You quickly wiped away the traces of tears and put on a smile, masking the pain that still lingered in your heart.

"Hey, Nami," you greeted, trying to sound cheerful. "What brings you here?"

"Kid just left with his crew, and you were the only one who wasn't there to see him off," Nami explained, her voice tinged with concern. "I wanted to make sure you're okay. Is everything alright?"

"I'm okay," you replied, forcing a smile. "Thanks for checking in, Nami."

She sat on your bed and sighed, her eyes filled with understanding. "I can see that something is bothering you. You don't have to pretend with me, you know," Nami said gently.

"I know," you said, touching the necklace again, "But there was no way anything would happen even if I sent him off."

"So he didn't ask you?"

"Ask me what?" you asked curiously.

"That dinner when you left early, Kid asked Luffy if he could have you join his crew and surprisingly Luffy agreed but if you agreed to it too,"

You were speechless at Nami's words. Kid asked Luffy to join his crew? Why didn't he ask you? Did he think you were going to reject his offer?

Did he not see how much you longed for him? Did he not feel the same connection as you did? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with a mixture of regret and confusion.

"Why didn't he ask me?" you muttered out loud, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

Nami assured you, "You can ask him next time we bump into each other. Maybe he just didn't find the right moment to bring it up. Don't worry, I'm sure there's a reason behind it."

"I guess," you muttered, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over you.

Eustass Kid, does he not realise how smitten you have become with him that he's using you as a toy for his own entertainment without even knowing?

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Part 2?

[4only1]

could you write something about Yamazaki shingen can be anything

The Last Great Yamazaki Dynasty

Yamazaki Shingen x Reader Word Count: 620 Warnings: Suicide Masterlist ------------------------

He was in his prime when you met. You think maybe it was the aura that he carried himself with that attracted you to him. Or Maybe, it was how he protected you from the group of thugs harassing you, it wasn’t clear. What was clear was how deeply you fell for him after that.

You didn’t think you would see him after, but you did. It was again, him appearing to defeat some gangsters that harassed you. You got a name the second time you met, Shingen Yamazaki. He wasn’t exactly the most charming man, more gruff than anything. 

It could also have been how mysterious he was that attracted you. He never said many words every time you met, and you kept meeting. Whether by coincidence or it was planned by him, it was clear both you and he had developed an interest in each other.

It wasn’t that long ago that he held you closely and stroked your hair as you sat on his lap. It was a quiet but a clear sign of affection coming from him. He never did the action for anyone else. Not one of his 8 other mistresses did he hold and touch like he did to you. He slept with the other 8, but they never got to feel this vulnerable touch.

You knew you were his most special person when you discovered that his other mistresses expressed the emotion of jealousy before you. They sneered when you walked alongside him and gritted their teeth as he constantly called for you. The only reason they never retaliated was out of fear of what punishment might befall them.

They certainly didn't spare their words from reaching your ears however. They called you all sorts of thing, maddest, shameless, loudest woman they've ever seen.

When he was defeated by Gapryong Kim, he first went to you for comfort. A comfort that he wished was there now. The warmth he found as he stroked your hair, as he held you tightly in his arms had vanished. Perhaps your leaving is what further made him dive into depression. 

You had sinned and needed to pay the price. You sinned by distracting the great leader of the clan, leading to his defeat. You weren’t like the other mistresses who would only pay with their fingers, you would pay with your life.

The note was left to discover in your room when you returned from visiting him. You knew it was coming, why wouldn’t it be? You had distracted him with your body, you were a temptress who needed to pay. Leaving wouldn’t be enough, he would find you, death was the only way you could atone.

It was bittersweet for you. So this was the end…it was nice. You got to choose how you would go instead of facing the brutalities the clan might force onto you. You didn’t leave a note, nobody would read it, and whoever found it would dispose of it before he could ever see it.

The next morning, your body was found. When news reached him, he had no reaction. He was already a shell of his former self, how could react? Inside however, very deep inside, he felt what was left of him break. You didn’t get a funeral. You were a sinner, why did you deserve one?

Who knows if you never showed up what could have been? Words spread again. There goes the maddest, shameless, loudest woman this clan had ever seen. She must have had a marvelous time ruining everything.

His void started with you and had no signs of ending. To him, dying sounded nice, it meant he might have a chance to see you again.

------------------------

Was waiting for the newest chapter to come out before writing this so I could get more of an idea about him. Again it is hard to write about a character that we know so little about so I decided to set this pre-gun backstory.

Again probably a million spelling errors but oh well. I enjoyed getting this request because it allowed me to think of a scenario that would also work in the canon storyline.

If anybody else would like to request don't be afraid. Just allow me some time to create an idea and write it down to my satisfaction. It may take a while but I will get there.

[chxrrysangel]

What Best Friends Do

Pairing | perv!eddie x best friend!reader

Warnings | MDNI 18+, porn with plot, Eddie is a such a perv(only for reader tho, he has some morals), he stares A LOT, meddling friends, guided masturbation (f), cumming together, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants, Eddie basically has an innocence kink

Words | 1,895

Summary | Forced to be gentlemanly with pussy on his mind, Eddie spends the night with his best friend for “the sake of safety”. A best friend with the shortest skirt and cutest pout he’s ever seen. Can he keep it together?

Technically Part Two

Eddie didn’t think this through. At all. 

When Steve suggested taking everyone home in one trip, a resounding yes erupted from the group. The only problem was that there weren’t enough seats. Neither of you thought it was a massive deal at the time, it was only a 30-minute car ride. That was roughly 5 Metallica songs, 3 random brought-up topics between the 6 of you, and maybe 10 stoplights throughout Hawkins. 

Everyone piled into the car as Robin called shotgun, while Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie took the backseat. Hand in yours, your best friend helped you onto his lap for a less-than-comfortable ride home. But you would survive, it was just Eddie after all. The second your ass met his front, he regretted the entire thing. Every single pothole or speed bump pressed your body closer to his, and it was hell. 

Eddie prayed to every god he could think of, hoping that Ozzy and Kirk could hear his pleas somehow. He tried to think of anything to stop his dick from pressing farther into your ass, but not even the image of his nana naked could make the smell of your perfume turn him on less. You could feel him, he was sure of it. And you were too innocent to not realize that every time you rubbed up against him made it worse. A particular “break test”, as Steve liked to call them, had Eddie’s arm wrapping around your waist, pushing your bodies so close together he had to bite his tongue to swallow his moans. If he was any more pathetic, he might’ve cum in his jeans. 

So he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heartbeat of your pussy against his crotch. Someone must’ve answered his prayers, because the next thing he knew Steve was triple honking to signal a house stop. Luckily enough, it was yours. Eddie braced your body as the car door opened, stopping you from falling. You thanked him, no matter how many times he said it was no trouble. Before anyone could say their goodbyes, Steve perked up to share an idea. 

“Are your parents home?”

You told him no, and that they wouldn’t be back until much later in the night. 

“Munson, haul ass and stay with 'em.”

The two boys made eye contact in Steve’s dashboard mirror, a silent war that you couldn’t decipher. Eddie turned towards the others to beg for help, all feigning innocence and ignoring his silent plea. Right now he was rock hard, and Steve was ruining his chance to go home and jerk off until he got friction burn. But then he turned to see your patient gaze as you waited for their decision, and just melted. 

Fuck. 

Sighing, Eddie climbed out of the car in defeat. He waited until you began walking to your front door to scold the rest of the car. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he angry-whispered. 

“I don't know what you’re talking about Munson. Have fun though.” With that, Steve winked at the metalhead and drove off into the night. 

 He’s gonna regret this and he knows it. 

“Eddie, you comin’ ?” 

“Um, yeah. Sorry.” 

~~~

Eddie’s eyes began to unfocus, his head pounding as he took in the sight before him. There was something so… enticing about how little you understood the effect you had on him; on people in general. You didn’t think it was a huge deal, walking around your room in just a robe. But to Eddie, it was a massive deal. The thoughts he had earlier were coming back in full force and he had no way to escape them. There was only a single layer of material separating your naked body from the outside world and it drove him insane. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how short it was, making it so that just the right bend of your knees would him the perfect view of your pussy. 

Eddie didn’t really believe in God, but now he was reconsidering it. He knew it was bad to think of you like this, especially someone like you, but he couldn’t help it. If anything, your lack of experience or knowledge made him hornier. The pillow covering his crotch didn’t help much either, the dense material providing friction with every movement of his hips. 

“Eddie?” Your voice pulled him back to attention, focusing on you but not staring. Or at least trying not to stare. 

“Yes baby?” You blushed at the nickname, never truly getting over his terms of endearment for you. 

“I have a question.” He can tell by your tone that you’re nervous, and god it’s so cute. You bite on your lips as you think of what to say next, and all he can think about is that pretty little mouth sucking on his tip. 

“Shoot.” You took a deep breath, trying to find the courage somewhere to say what you need to. 

“Earlier in the car, I uh– I felt something.” Eddie fought off the urge to grin, the possibilities of what you said next giving him a depraved kind of rush. 

“What did you feel sweetheart?” He pressed the pillow further into himself, grinding his hips ever so slightly for relief. 

“Something hard. And…it felt good. I um…liked you pressed up against me. I felt tingly.” Eddie sat up straighter at your confession.

He could cum right now off your words alone. 

“Yeah?” You nodded in response, averting your eyes as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Do you wanna feel that again?” Eddie wanted to tear the pathetic robe off and fuck you over the nearest surface, but he knew he had to be patient and gentle. 

“Yes.” 

“Come here, baby. Come to Eddie.”

The bed dipped as you climbed over to him, your robe loosening just a little bit which he took notice of. Eddie removed the pillow, giving you a full view of the rock-hard erection he’d been hiding. A gasp fell from your lips, a hesitant hand reaching out before you thought better of it.

“You can touch if you want. I don’t mind.” You debated over it for a few seconds before reaching for his crotch. Your fingers brushed lightly against the tip, the friction making Eddie hiss in pleasure. 

“Oh my god, Eddie I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, don’t apologize. Didn’t hurt at all. It was the exact opposite. ” His voice was so gentle, like nothing you’ve ever heard from him before. It encouraged you to put your hand back where it was, rubbing softly to see how he reacted. You had no idea what you were doing, which made Eddie even more eager to ruin you. In his peripheral vision, he caught his eye on your closet mirror, inciting a genius idea. 

“Okay baby, I’m gonna make you feel good now. Can you do something for me?” You would do anything for him; so of course, you said yes. 

Eddie grabbed your hand, guiding you to sit in front of him with your back to his chest. His warm calloused hands bore a feather light touch as they grazed along your thighs. Slowly they inched higher, stopping just before where you needed it and pushing your thighs wide apart. Your best friend stared at the slickness of your folds, licking his lips in anticipation. Everything he'd ever fantasized about was slowly becoming part of reality.

In the reflection of the mirror, you stared at yourself, not quite sure who was looking back at you. It felt foreign to have anyone, let alone Eddie’s hands on your body in this way. The cross necklace you’ve had your entire life glittered in the light, and you willed the guilt rising up your throat to be swallowed back down. You wanted this. The brush of your best friend’s fingers across your stomach pulled you out of your trance, eyes tracing his movements. 

“Baby, you see this little button at the top here? That’s called your clit. It’s your best friend. And its favorite thing is to get rubbed on.” 

Eddie licked his fingertips in the reflection, bringing them down to between your legs to demonstrate. The wet feeling of his spit on your clit as his calloused hands began to rub circles was so foreign yet welcomed. Your brain began to feel fuzzy as the pleasure took over and your best friend enjoyed watching you come apart for him. Breathy moans and whimpers escaped your lips as you rutted into his hand, chasing something you weren’t even sure what to call.

He cooed at you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears. The ghostly feeling of his lips brushing against your hot skin clouded your mind, making it almost impossible to enjoy his praises. It was almost too much and yet you craved more. But then he stopped. 

“Eddie! Why’d you do that?” Whatever was building up in your lower stomach, aching to be released, slowly began to dissipate along with your excitement.

“Because, I want you to do it yourself.” He paused to kiss your temple, softening the blow of your disappointment. 

“But I can’t—”

“Yes you can, and you will. Give me your hand.” You did as told, watching as Eddie put two of your digits in his mouth and sucked. It was so…sinful. Nothing like anything you’d ever seen; and you couldn’t get enough.  He pulled your spit coated fingers down btwn your legs, right down to the center of your pleasure. 

“Now rub. And don’t stop until I tell you.” You did as you were told, slowly at first to get used to the feeling. 

Soon you fell into a rhythm, high off the feeling and chasing your own pleasure. Your back relaxed into Eddie’s arms, pushing your bodies impossibly closer together. His hips matched the rhythm of yours, which only made you wetter. Your moans were matched by his as you stared at yourselves in the mirror. He was enjoying this just as much as you were. 

“Eddie, oh God. I feel…I feel..”

He grinned at his reflection. 

“I know baby, I know.” He pulled your hips into his, trying to maintain as much friction as he could. At this rate, he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Hurts a little, yeah? Keep going gorgeous, it’s gonna feel so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” His voice broke on the last few words like he was gonna burst into tears at any moment. Your lower belly tightened with a delicious kind of pain, one you chased eagerly. You rubbed your fingers at a faster pace, desperate for some kind of release as Eddie grinded against your ass. He whispered the dirtiest things in your ear, saying how good you feel and how close he is. And then, the tightness stopped as a wave of pleasure coursed through your entire body, enough to make your toes curl and ears ringing. Eddie’s name fell off the tip of your lips as you came, the final straw as wetness spread through his boxers and hips slowed to a halt. You stared in his eyes as you caught your breath, trying to find the words to describe what just happened.

You were putty in his hands, he knew that now. A post-orgasm smile spread across his lips, shamelessly staring at your fucked-out state. He had plans for you.

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Thirteen

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Chapter Warnings: Jake and Skipper fight, Bradley flirts, Vivid descriptions of drowning, Supernatural elements, Siren Song, Biting, Smut (P in V, fingering, dirty talk), Confrontations, Love confessions, Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending. Think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 6k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Your group walked down the lamp-lit streets silently, an air of tension surrounding the four of you. Of course, you knew what you had done had been completely stupid, and they were right to be mad at you. But you knew you had done the right thing, and you knew they knew that too. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t scared them though, and you let out a quiet sigh as you waited for the inevitable blow up from one of them - most likely Jake, if you had to guess.

He was tense beside you as you all continued down towards the house, his jaw clenched so hard that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding. His eyes still glowed ominously, though not as vividly as they had only minutes before. He refused to look at you, eyes trained forward as he kept his hands shoved in his pockets, refusing to touch you.

You deserved his ire.

Bradley hit the steps of the house first, walking up them casually as if he didn’t have a care in the world. You saw the way his nostrils flared though and the way his eyes seemed pinched as he ripped the screen door open and stepped inside.

Bob was close behind him, lips pulled into a tight frown with eyes trained on the ground. He grabbed the door before it slammed shut, pausing for just a moment to look back at you, blue eyes reproachful. You met his gaze, silently communicating your apologies for having scared him, and he must have understood you because he let out a defeated sigh before stepping inside.

You moved to follow him, letting out a shocked gasp as you were dragged backwards and pinned against the pillar of the porch.

Jake’s gaze was thunderous as he finally looked at you, a deep frown on his face as his eyes glowed that ominous green in fury. He leaned into you, forearm pressed to the wood above your head as he crowded you.

“Do you have any idea,” he hissed, eyes narrowing at you, “of how badly you scared me just now?”

You said nothing as he took a deep breath in before letting it out, eyes falling closed for a moment. He opened them again, and this time you could see a mixture of fear and despair beyond the palpable anger.

“I need you safe, Skipper,” he continued, voice so low that it was almost a growl. His hand came up to cup your cheek, eyes begging you to understand him. “I needed to know that you were going to be okay, and what did you do? You ran off without telling anyone where you were going. Do you have any idea how out of my mind I was when I realized you were gone?”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you whispered, heart thumping in your chest as you watched him. “But I’m not sorry for what I did.”

Jake’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing at you, jaw clenching.

“What?” He all but spat at you. Despite his obvious anger, his hand remained gentle on your face.

“I’m not sorry for what I did,” you repeated, voice firmer this time as you jutted your chin out. “I did what I had to do. Running away wasn’t going to fix any of this, and you all know it. It was a temporary solution to a bigger problem. I did what needed to be done.”

“You could have gotten hurt,” he growled, the glow in his eyes brightening as his pupils once again narrowed to slits at the thought of what could have happened to you. “You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t,” you reminded him. You knew you were pressing your luck in that moment, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Jake let out a hiss mixed with several different clicks, the sound not unlike that of a dolphin.

“You’re mine,” he hissed.

“If I’m yours,” you started, “then you’re mine too. And just like you protect what’s yours, I’m going to protect what’s mine.”

Jake let out another growl, dropping his hand and pushing away from you, running a hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated grunt. You pushed off of the pillar, following him towards the edge of the porch as he paced back and forth, feeling your own emotions rise up in your chest.

“I did what I did because that could have so easily been you, Jake,” you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes. “I saw you in Cole. It could have been you losing control. It could have been you hurting people. Jake, I could have lost you.”

He paused at that, coming to a halt in his movement. He looked up at you, his pupils returning to normal as the anger and despair melted from his face, leaving behind a look of uncertain neutrality.

“But it wasn’t,” he told you.

You stared at him, slack jawed before pulling your shoulders back and pressing your lips into a thin line.

“It wasn’t,” you agreed. Jake’s own lips pursed as he shook his head, taking a step towards you and offering you his hand.

“It won’t be,” he promised, eyes shining in the low light of the porch, the glow having altogether vanished. Your bottom lip began to tremble, heat rising to your cheeks.

“I know,” you whispered, cursing at how your voice cracked. Jake’s gaze softened as he looked at you, crossing the distance to cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked over the apples of your cheeks.

“It won’t be,” he repeated, offering you a gentle smile. “And do you know why?”

“Why?” You asked, lifting your hands to rest over his.

“Because Cole didn’t have what I have,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours, nose brushing you. “He didn’t have you, darlin’. With you by my side, nothing bad is ever going to happen.”

You huffed out a laugh, lips tugging into a shy smile as he grinned along with you.

“There you go being all cheesy again,” you teased, earning a chuckle.

“Only for you,” he agreed, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips. You hummed against him, eagerly returning the kiss, and he pulled back with a chuckle.

“We ought to get inside and let the others say their peace,” he winked, and you let out a tired sigh.

“Might as well get it over with,” you muttered, allowing him to lead you into the house.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Nat cried out as soon as you stepped foot into the living room, running up to you and pulling you into a hug. “You had us all scared to death.”

“Thought Jake was gonna break all the furniture,” Mickey agreed, pulling you from Nat to give you his own hug.

Javy shook his head with a look of pure exasperation. “Thought we were going to have to knock him out there for a second if he didn’t calm down.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Reuben chimed in, patting you on the back with a sympathetic smile. “She’s safe and here now. That’s all that matters, right?”

“I don’t know,” Bradley drawled from his spot on the couch. You all turned to him, watching as he slowly stood to his feet and sauntered over to you, a serious look on his face.

“What you did was impulsive and reckless,” he continued, coming to a stop right in front of you. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, looking down at the floor.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.”

Your head shot back up, eyes wide and lips parted in shock as you stared at him. The others also turned to look at him, confusion written all over their faces.

“You have a lot of making up to do,” Bradley sniffed, leaning down so that his face was right in front of yours. A slow, lascivious smirk pulled on his lips as he looked at you. “You can start by letting me take you out, and then we can come back here to-”

“Bradshaw, I will bite you again, so help me god,” Jake growled, pulling you back towards him so that your back bumped his chest. Bradley threw his hands up in surrender, shooting you a wink with a much more playful smirk.

“Alright, scrap that last part then. But you’re buying me some cheese fries from the diner,” he told you, pointing a finger in your direction.

“Deal,” you grinned.

It had been a couple of days since you last saw Jake, your boyfriend having told you that he needed time to prepare for the height of his frenzy.

“I just want things to be perfect,” he had told you, holding your fingers to his lips with gentle kisses against them as he looked at you. “You deserve the best.”

“I suppose I do,” you hummed, a teasing grin on your face. “After all, I am pretty great.”

Jake’s lips quirked into a grin as he placed another kiss to your fingers.

“The greatest,” he agreed.

And now here you stood on the deck of Susan and Richard Floyd’s home, a small piece of paper in your hands. You had been sitting in your room, reading when a familiar feeling overtook you, your ears perking up as a song called out to you from down below.

Come outside, It sang. Obediently, you set your book down, making your way down the stairs and out the back door. You stepped out into the summer evening, breathing in the ocean air. You frowned when you realized that you were all alone, your boyfriend nowhere in sight. You walked the length of the deck, turning the corner to still find no trace of him. With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips, moving to go back inside when something caught your eye.

On the top of the stairs that led down to the dock sat a large whelk shell, the coloring dazzling as it sat on the wooden step. You walked over, crouching down to pick it up and revealing a small piece of white paper laying underneath. Furrowing your brow, you plucked it up, sitting down on the top step to read it.

Meet me at the sea. One hour.

You didn’t have to be told where to meet. You and Jake had discussed it before and he had made it clear to you that he wanted to be close to home, the comfort of knowing that safety was nearby soothed his anxiety about the situation.

You glanced towards the water, a small smile on your face as you tried to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend among the waves. You could feel him watching you, but you saw nothing. Shaking your head with a little laugh, you stood back up, making your way back into the house to get ready.

And hour later, you were walking down the road towards Jake and Bradley’s shared home. The house was uncharacteristically quiet as you walked past it towards the beach, the small dock coming into sight as the sun dipped towards the horizon. The sand shifted underneath your feet, soon giving way to the solid wood that led into the ocean in front of you. You slipped off your shoes, placing them next to you as you took a seat at the end of the dock, your feet swinging back and forth casually as you waited.

You didn’t have to wait long as the sound of the water sloshing to your right caught your attention. You turned, eyes meeting intense, glowing green as Jake rested his arms on top of the dock, cheek pressed against his forearms as he watched you. You could see the length of his tail as he watched you, the brilliant silver shining in the waning light. His face remained unreadable as he continued to watch you, but his eyes were so tender as you took him in.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, voice sounding a little breathless as your eyes continued to roam. A smile crept onto Jake’s lips at your words, and you watched in awe as he lifted himself the rest of the way up onto the deck, the scales of his tail fluttering and falling away to reveal his legs. He wore nothing as he shifted between the two forms, and though you had seen him change many times before now, it still left you a little breathless to see him.

He moved so that he sat next to you, his shoulder pressed against yours in a bid of silent comfort. You sighed, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you looked out at the water. The two of you said nothing for a long stretch of time, simply watching the sun sink lower and lower towards the horizon and enjoying each other’s company.

“I kicked Bradley out for the night,” Jake said finally, voice quiet and pensive. “Wanted it to be just you and me. There’s a cave that people use sometimes for the claiming bite, but I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“Oh,” you breathed, soaking in his words. Wordlessly, your hand drifted from your lap to grasp his as you felt nerves rise up in your stomach. Jake sensed your hesitation and turned to look at you, worry pinching his brow as he pursed his lips.

“We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want, Skipper,” he told you, squeezing your hand in his. It wasn’t that you were inexperienced or didn’t want to. No, it was the thought of the process itself. You knew what to expect, and still it was different from actually doing it.

“I want to,” you assured him, giving him a tight smile that you could tell only served to amp his worry.

“Are you sure?” He asked. You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment before nodding.

“I’m sure about you,” you answered earnestly. “I’m sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A smile broke out across his face as he let out a chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. He pulled away after a moment, resting his forehead against yours as his thumb stroked the back of your hand.

“I love you,” he said, eyes glowing bright as he looked at you. Your heart skipped a beat as your grin matched his.

“I love you too.”

“Are you ready?” He asked, worry creeping onto his face once more.

“I’m ready,” you nodded. Jake swallowed thickly, pulling away from you and pushing himself off the dock and into the water. He entered smoothly, the water barely making a sound as he did so. He resurfaced only a moment later, eyes looking at you expectantly as he reached out his hand. Without hesitating, you placed your hand in his and allowed him to pull you into the water.

The water rushed around you, bubbles skewing your sense of direction as you were engulfed on all sides. Your t-shirt billowed out around you, and you felt strong hands take it and left it up over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bra. You opened your eyes, the sting of the salt water almost making you close them again, but you pushed through it as you caught sight of Jake.

He really was beautiful, silver tail flashing in the low light that was left by the setting sun, golden hair looking soft as it floated in the water, and eyes the color of sea glass glowing, pulling you in and practically suffocating you as you got lost in them.

His hands came up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as the two of you floated there. A song spilled past his lips, the sound both haunting and comforting. His hands lowered to wrap around you, pulling you farther out to sea, the water growing darker and darker the deeper he dragged you. Your lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen, your body starting to panic as Jake held fast onto you. You clung to him as water rushed by you, your vision beginning to grow blurry as you fought to for air, only to inhale the surrounding water. Slowly, your vision began to grow black, his song being the only thing you could focus on.

It was full of lament, the pain of seeing you near death’s door evident in the way he cried, but the promise of relief sinking in around the edges as your grip on him loosened, losing the fight within you as he let you go. Your eyes fluttered closed as your body accepted its fate, all the fight within you gone. The water was still around you, only the sound of the song and your slowing heartbeat to be heard.

You felt the water whip around you as glowing green came into your limited vision, the dream of strong hands cradling your face once more as you drifted further and further into oblivion. The hands moved to wrap around you once more, the song growing louder and more insistent as your limbs grew heavier despite the weightlessness of the water. You were vaguely aware of a body pressing closer to yours, lips skimming over your cheek, along your jaw, and down the column of your throat before settling at the junction of your shoulder and neck.

A prick of pain shot through you, followed quickly by a rush of warmth that spread from your neck and through your veins, the heavy weight of drowning lifting off of you as your mind came rushing back to the surface. The water around you sharpened in clarity, growing brighter as the warmth continued to seep through you, giving strength to your limbs and easing the ache within your lungs. You suddenly realized that you were able to breathe, eyes searching wildly about you as they finally landed on Jake. His pupils had narrowed into slits, the green glowing so brightly that for a brief moment, you wondered if it hurt.

You reached up to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately nuzzled into the palm of your hand, eyes never leaving you as he did so. A wave of heat washed over you as desire clutched at you. Jake must have sensed the change because he pulled you towards him, swimming towards the surface. You buried your face in his neck, suddenly overwhelmed by the new sensations within you as you hurtled for the surface.

The two of you broke the surface with a splash, the sun having slipped below the horizon during your time beneath the waves. The stars began to litter the night sky above you as the faint glow of orange grew dimmer and dimmer. Your eyes searched Jake’s for a moment, taking in his appearance. Eyes still narrowed into slits, his teeth were sharpened to points as he panted in front of you, chest heaving as if he were trying to hold himself back. The sight of him sent a twinge from the fresh mark on your neck down to the apex of your thighs, and without thinking, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his in a heated frenzy.

Jake crooned against you, hands gripping every part of you that he could as he pulled you along towards the shore, scales once again giving way to legs as the two of you sat in the surf on the beach. Your lips moved against each other in a kiss that became more tongue and teeth with each passing moment, your hands wandering across his chest and shoulders as if you could never get enough and already had too much all at the same time.

Jake pulled away after a moment, eyes roaming over you as you worked your mouth along his jaw and down the length of his throat. You nipped at the spot just below his ear, drawing out a pleasured moan from him as you laved your tongue over the spot, sucking a bruise into the skin.

“We should go inside,” he panted, hands tight on your hips as if to help ground himself in that moment. You shook your head, dragging your lips down his neck and to his shoulder where you placed several open-mouthed kisses along his golden skin.

“Need you now,” you whined, nails dragging down his torso and earning a hiss as he threw his head back. “Need you inside of me.”

Jake’s eyes snapped back to you, the beast within taking hold in that moment as he crashed his lips back against yours, swallowing your moans as his hands worked on shoving your shorts down your legs. His hand came back up to cup your mound, the heat of him drawing out a cry from you as you arched into his touch. A finger ran up your covered slit, an embarrassing keen spilling past your lips as Jake grinned.

“Already so needy for me,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your lips before pulling away, repeating the motion with his hand as you whined. “So desperate. Wonder if you could come just like this.”

“Jake,” you pleaded, eyes wide and imploring. He chuckled, pushing your underwear to the side as finger circled your clit. You squirmed against him, but his hips shifted against you, pinning you down as he toyed with you.

“So wet for me,” he cooed, slipping a finger inside you, stretching you. Your back arched up against him, a wanton moan escaping your lips as he began to thrust into you with lazy strokes, content to watch your face contort with pleasure as he worked the one digit into you. He soon added a second finger, picking up his pace as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, free hand stroking your hair out of your face tenderly.

“So tight and warm around my fingers,” he whispered reverently, eyes drifting down to where his fingers were stills buried inside of you. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock, squeezing and milking me dry.”

His words sent you sprinting towards the edge, the coil in your belly tightening as he found the spongy spot inside of you. Your hands flew up to his arms, nails digging into the skin as you met his thrusts.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he cooed once more, kissing your lips in a chaste kiss that was a stark contrast to what he was currently doing to you. “Come on my fingers. Give it to me.”

The coil inside you snapped as you came, release flooding out of you as you rode out your high. Jake watched you, mesmerized as you came down. Once your breathing had evened out, he pulled his fingers out of you with a squelch that had your cheeks heating. He brought the fingers to his lips, sucking on them with a hum as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you as your breathing picked back up.

“We should really go inside n-”

He didn’t have a chance to finish before you had him on his back, straddling his hips as you undid your bra, throwing it off to the side and quickly ridding yourself of your underwear. You had never considered yourself to be bold like this, but the combination of adrenaline and lust running through you had you acting in ways you would never have dared to before.

Jake stared up at you with wide, shocked eyes before relaxing into the sand below as his hands rested on your hips.

“Need me that bad, huh?” He teased, squeezing you as you huffed.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, leaning down to press your lips against his once more. He licked into your mouth, and you hummed at the taste of yourself that still lingered on his tongue. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before another wave of desire rolled over you, and you pulled away, shifting to line him up at your entrance, teasing the tip through your folds with a moan.

“Skipper,” he gasped, eyes hooded and lips parted as he watched you, feeling your tight, wet warmth run over him.

“Now who’s needy?” You teased breathlessly. Jake glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it as you slowly sank down onto him, letting out a pleasured hiss at the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck,” he ground out, eyes pinched closed and head thrown back in ecstasy. You leaned over him, head resting on his shoulder as you sank further and further onto him. When you were fully seated, you took a moment to bask in how full you felt.

Jake’s hands were like vices on you, fingers flexing as your walls fluttered around him. You raised yourself up to look down at him, the two of you simply content to feel each other in that moment. Slowly, you raised yourself up, dropping yourself back down onto him just as slowly. You worked yourself on top of him, alternating between bouncing and grinding as moans escaped his lips. His hands left your hips for a moment to push himself up into a sitting position as you continued to ride him, your own gasps and moans mingling with his. One of his hands rested on your back, pulling you flush against him as the other guided your hips over his, his mouth seeking yours out for a languid kiss.

“Feel so good wrapped around me like this,” he murmured as he pulled away, a strand of saliva connecting your lips as you whimpered when he nudged that spot deep inside you. “So fucking tight, sweetheart. You were made just for me, huh? Made to stretch around me. Such a good girl taking all of me like this, yeah?”

The hand on your back trailed down to reach between your thighs, rubbing small circles on your clit that sent you keening, the pressure in your belly quickly building to another peak.

“Gonna come around me?” He asked, voice sweet as you rested your forehead against his, movements growing erratic as you chased your high. “Wanna feel it, baby. Wanna feel your tight, little pussy come around me. Wanna feel you squeeze and milk me dry just like I said. You like the sound of that? Like the sound of me filling you up? Fuck, I can’t wait to see you leaking with me. Gonna fuck it back into you so you don’t waste a drop, how’s that sound?”

You whined, fingers running through his hair as you teetered at the edge, your eyes drifting down to look at him as you hurtled towards the edge. Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and He smiled up at you tenderly before crashing his lips against yours, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose against yours, breath fanning over you. “I’m right there too, but I need you to come first. Please, baby. Let me feel you.”

Your climax hit you with a cry, your head thrown back, exposing your neck to Jake. His lips pressed against the claiming mark on your neck, and you saw stars as the warmth of his own climax filled you. Jake moved you against him as the both of you came back down from your individual highs, breaths coming out in pants as you came back to yourselves.

The water crashed against the shore as the two of you basked in the afterglow. Your fingers carded through Jake’s hair, his face buried in your neck as his hands soothed up and down your back.

“I love you,” he whispered into your skin after a moment, and your heart swelled with so much love, that it startled you for a moment. Jake chuckled against you, pulling back to look at you.

“It’s not just you that you’re feeling,” he explained, nodding towards the mark on your neck. “That mark is not only a sign of our bond, but a link to each other. You can feel me, just like I can feel you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in his words.

“I love you too,” you sniffled, leaning in to kiss him once more. Jake smiled against your lips, thanking whatever forces were out there that he got to experience this.

The bell above the door chimed as you entered the shop, the cool air conditioning a sharp contrast to the late July heat. It had been a couple of weeks since the night with Cole and the night when you finally let Jake claim you. You wore the mark proudly as a symbol of the love you shared with the man.

The shop was filled with familiar knick-knacks as you moved deeper and deeper into the space, a fan blowing behind the counter with a faint buzz. You perused the shelves, fingers trailing over the different shells and trinkets that lined them.

It wasn’t long before the sounds of footsteps sounded from the back, stopping as they stepped out into the room. You looked up to see Mrs. Cambroni eyeing you warily, a frown tugging on her lips as she regarded you. The two of you stood and stared at one another for a few moments before she broke the silence.

“I suppose you’re here to yell at me,” she sniffed, voice croaking, and it was then that you noticed how red her eyes looked. “You’ve every right, of course. I should have stopped him.”

“Why didn’t you?” You asked, curiosity instead of anger lacing your voice. Mrs. Cambroni’s eyes darted to the ground before looking back up at you.

“To be truthful,” she began, letting out a heavy sigh as her eyes looked past you. “I knew something was going on to an extent. I tried to talk to him about it because I knew he was getting older and I knew that he was struggling. Did you know that late bloomers tend to have more feral frenzies? His second had been so hard on him, and I suspected that his third was nearing. Late bloomers tend to have delayed frenzies, you see, so it was hard to pin down when exactly it would strike.”

She let out a breath, chewing on her bottom lip as tears filled her eyes.

“He told me that he had found someone,” she continued, voice filled with emotion. “Told me he was courting her, so like an old fool, I let my guard down. I trusted him and that he knew what he was doing.”

A tear ran down her cheek, her face contorting with grief, and your heart broke for her.

“I thought the murders were done by a vagrant, a sea person not from here. I admit, I should have known better, should have known that it was him, but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that he was capable of doing those things, even if he didn’t intend to do them.”

She looked at you then, grief so palpable in her gaze that it sent you back a step.

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” she whispered, breath coming out as a choked sob. “I should have done something to stop him. I should have done more. Words can never express how truly sorry I am for what he did. If I could go back and change things, I would, believe you me.”

A moment of silence stretched between the two of you as her words settled in the air.

“He was your nephew,” you said finally, an edge of uncertainty coating your words. “You loved him.”

“I did,” she nodded, hands clasped tightly in front of her. “And while his actions were inexcusable, at the end of the day, he was still my nephew, and I still loved him dearly.”

“I’m not asking you not to,” you sighed, glancing out the window as a group of friends passed, laughing loudly as they walked down the street. “I wish he didn’t have to go through all of that alone.”

“Me too,” Mrs. Cambroni nodded, a sad smile pulling on her lips as she regarded you. “But from the sounds of it, he wasn’t alone in the end, and for that I have to thank you.”

“You shouldn’t thank me,” you told her, shaking your head. “I did it for purely selfish reasons.”

“Love will make you do strange things,” she agreed, eyes drifting towards the front door. The bell chimed, signaling someone entering the store, and you turned to see Jake already heading towards you. A sense of worry pulled at your bond, and you gave him a reassuring smile as he glanced over at Mrs. Cambroni. He wrapped an arm around you, hand running up and down your side in greeting. You gave another smile to the older woman, moving to leave the shop.

“I’ll see you around, Mrs. Cambroni,” you told her, Jake following along after you, pausing to give a tight-lipped smile to the shop owner. The bell chimed one last time as the two of you exited, heading down the street towards the beach.

“I won’t even be that far away,” you laughed, looking at your boyfriend with a look of pure incredulity. Jake grinned up at you, leaning against his arms as the two of you sat on the sand.

“Doesn’t matter,” he proclaimed, eyes shining in the waning sunlight. “I’m gonna miss you no matter where you go. I miss you when you’re off with Nat. I miss you when you leave our bed to go make breakfast. I miss you when you go to the bathroom-”

“The bathroom?” You exclaimed, giggles falling from your lips. Jake’s grin grew as he watched you.

“Especially when you’re in the bathroom,” he said, waggling his eyebrows, and you laughed, shoving at his shoulders. He chuckled, shifting so that his head rested on your lap. Your fingers immediately began carding through his hair, a contented hum coming from the man below you.

“See,” he chirped, “now why would you want to leave this and go back to school? This is perfect.”

“Because I want to expand upon my education so I don’t end up as some trophy wife?” You challenged. Jake pretended to think, hand rubbing at his jaw before another grin split across his face.

“You’d make such a pretty trophy wife, though,” he purred, hand reaching up to curl along your side, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re ridiculous,” you scowled playfully, glaring at him. Jake shrugged, letting his hand fall to grab one of your own, playing with your fingers as he continued.

“Seriously though, I’m going to support you no matter what you do, Skipper,” he murmured. “Even if what you want to do means we’ll be separated for a little while. I’ll live with it.”

He paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried not to smile, green eyes dancing with mischief.

“Even if it also means I waste away from loneliness.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, throwing your head back. Jake turned his head to press a kiss to your thigh.

“You love it, though,” he grinned. You smiled down at him, eyes soft as you took him in. You and Bob would go away to start your studies in grad school in just a week’s time, and though you were reluctant to admit it, you would miss Jake just as much as he claimed he would miss you. Of course the two of you would have video chats and texting, and you’d come visit every chance you got, but that didn’t mean you’d miss him any less. Jake must have seen the look on your face because he leaned up to press a kiss to your lips, one you happily reciprocated.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he murmured against your lips, thumb stroking your thigh. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, nodding slightly. “I know that.”

“I love you,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. You sank into his touch for a moment before pulling away, eyes shining with pure, unadulterated happiness.

“I love you too.”

A/N: Oh my god, it's finally here! The finale! This has been such a wild ride, you guys, and I want to thank each and every one of you for sticking around. I have so much love for every single one of you. Whether you've been here since the beginning or this is your first time reading through it, thank you from the bottom of my heart! If you are interested in receiving updates on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciate. You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[mikimakiboo]

I had a concept idea a while ago for a video game that takes place in the multiverse, so you would meet different aus and, of course, different sanses through the game

Just like in Undertale there would be a pacifist a neutral and a genocide route, except to finish the genocide it's hard af

I honestly didn't think much about it, I only got the encounter with the bad sanses (Killer, Dust and Horror, Cross isn't part of the group here) in the genocide run lol but anyway, you meet them through the game individually and then meet them again all together in the end, you don't meet Nightmare until the very end, after the group encounter

To make a genocide route you obviously have to kill the bad sanses, as they are part of the game, but here's where it becomes tricky:

• you have to kill at least one individually to unlock the group fight at the end, if you spare the three they won't fight you at the end, turning your genocide route to a neutral route and you have to start again to make a new genocide

• if you kill one, the other two will avenge him in the final fight, same if you kill two, the last one will avenge them, so expect the fight to be incredibly hard

• however, if you kill anyone but Killer first, he'll reset your game himself, so you have to kill Killer first, but he's the last one you meet, so you would have to spare the first two and either come back later to kill them or wait for the group fight

• you can kill the three individually, just make sure to kill Killer first or he'll reset your game

• you cannot spare them in the group fight, if you killed one, you'll have to kill the other two, even in neutral, they won't let you spare them and won't end the fight so it's the only way out

• Nightmare will only show up after the group fight once you killed the three, and it'll be his turn to avenge them and fight you, however, Nightmare being immortal and not letting you spare him, you will be trapped in an endless fight that'll force you to reset your game

At that point you might think the genocide is impossible as you won't be able to go past Nightmare's fight, but there is a way to kill him ! It's just hard to figure

• you have to complete at least three pacifist routes and meet Dream each time to complete his quests, on the fourth pacifist route he'll recognize you as someone with a good heart and will give you one of his arrows

• you can now reset, the arrow will stay in your inventory, however it takes three arrows to defeat Nightmare, but Dream won't give you another one if he sees you already have one in your inventory, so you have to put it in a box, complete a new pacifist to get the second arrow, put it in the box with the first one, and complete yet another pacifist to have the third arrow, then you can take the first two back

• you can now start a new genocide while making sure to kill Killer first out of the three and NOT use the arrows

• Nightmare will show up at the end for the final fight, and that is when you'll use Dream's arrows to kill him and complete the genocide

Congratulations ! You completed a genocide route !

I have absolutely zero ideas for the rest of the game so if anyone wanna make their own quests and include their own characters then go on, but please do tag me because I would wanna see :D

EDIT:

You will only be able to fight Dream after you've killed Nightmare, however, he is pissed that you killed his twin using his own arrows that he gave you because he trusted you, due to that he won't spare you and his fight will be very hard, you have no choice but to kill him

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey its me who asked for your The Unexpected Guest, and it was brilliant! I love the idea of part 2 it makes more sense!

I loved your idea of once they get to Rivendell Thorins and readers feelings are explored and some spicy stuff happens

Thank you, and love your work!☺️x

(I'm really glad you enjoyed it! I'm really sorry for the wait for part 2 - uni work, work work and writer's block are not a great combo and I didn't want to rush this (this part also got WAY longer than I thought it would), plus I've made some minor edits to part 1 since I wasn't totally happy with it - been a hot minute since I wrote smut so I hope this is ok :D thank you all for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!)

(link for part 1 - warning for NSFW content below, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

ghivashel - treasure of all treasures, amralime - my love

An Unexpected Guest pt.2 (Thorin x AFAB!fem!human!reader)

The journey to Rivendell was taxing on all of you, though you couldn't help but feel most sorry for Bilbo. The hobbit was so new to adventuring - you doubted he had ever been out of the Shire before now - and you had decided to support him wherever you could as a helping hand. Just helping him set up camp, saddling his pony in the morning, offering him water, little gestures seemed to make a difference in his demeanor.

Spending time with the hobbit to keep his morale up, especially after the troll attack, did mean that it was getting harder to find a spare moment with Thorin. The two of you had spoken much more frequently since his confession, and you wished for more time, but the whole group was in poor spirits as it was. While they were all happy for you, public displays of affection were just likely to irritate everyone further. And Thorin's burden of leadership would likely not be eased while you were still on the road. For the moment, all you could do was keep moving and offer comfort to whoever needed it.

Needless to say, arriving at Rivendell was a weight off your shoulders. Even if the dwarves tried to pick a fight with Elrond.

You had all taken your time to settle in and relax, having taken full advantage of the elves' hospitality (and you were forever grateful for being able to feel clean after the long journey). When the group of you were provided with dinner and the inevitable food fight broke out, you were happy to see how everyone's spirits had been lifted. However, you couldn't help but notice your One stood to the side. There was a content smile on his face, but you could easily see the tension that still bristled through him.

You soon found him after everybody had retreated to their rooms for the night. It was hard not to hear him - the pacing in his room seemed to echo through the hallway, if only slightly. Raising your hand, you softly knocked at the door, hoping that he wouldn't be too stubborn to talk to you.

"Come in."

Even his tone of voice betrayed his stress. He visibly relaxed when you entered the room though, shutting the door behind you, and you felt glad to at least be some comfort.

You smiled in greeting, and spoke softly. "Will you tell me what's going on with you?"

"I assure you, I am fine. Do not trouble yourself."

You closed the distance between you hesitantly, giving him the chance to back away, and took his hands. "Please, Thorin. I can see something is troubling you."

"I am just... concerned. About the future of this quest, about everyone's safety." You saw a struggle in his mind of not wanting to be vulnerable, but he seemed to give in, and sighed in defeat. "I fear that people are going to be hurt because of me."

"Oh, my love..." you breathed, pressing your forehead to his. "You are the best leader any of us could ask for, and I promise you that you will not be the cause of any hurt."

He gently pulled back and looked into your eyes. "You truly believe that?"

"Of course I do. Those in this company are strong and intelligent. Perhaps with the exception of your nephews," you chuckled, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. "They are all capable of making their own decisions. They knew the risks of coming along, but they have all chosen to join anyway because they saw a courageous dwarf that they wanted to follow."

"I only want to do right by my people."

"And you will. We all have faith in you."

He pressed his forehead to yours again. "You're far too good to me, ghivashel," he murmured.

"All I want is for you to be happy, my love."

And with that, you tilted your head up and kissed him, your fingers tracing his cheekbones as you pulled him closer. It wasn't rushed and clumsy, as it was when Thorin first confessed, but slow and loving, every movement of your lips against his a confession of love in itself. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you flush against him, trying to feel as much of you as possible.

When you separated to take a breath, meeting his lust-filled gaze was all the encouragement you needed.

"I wonder if there's any way I could relieve some of your stress..." Your tone was playful as you slid your hands achingly slowly down Thorin's chest, and you heard him inhale as you stopped just at his hips.

"Amralime, are you sure? If we start I will not want to hold back."

"I trust you, Thorin." You smiled and nodded towards the double bed. "And we may as well take advantage of the luxury while we have it."

He smirked. "I'm beginning to think you came here just to bed me."

"Hey, I would never-"

Your sarcastic reply was cut off by him kissing you again, with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before. Maybe you had awakened something long kept under control, but any coherent thought of that was soon lost when he shrugged the furs off his shoulders and his fingers found the hem of your shirt.

Soon becoming restless feeling him trace the curves of your waist, you broke away from the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt off. Thorin did the same, and after some hurried fumbling between more stolen kisses, you were both undressed. His hands never left your body as he backed you up towards the bed.

"You are so beautiful, ghivashel..." he murmured, lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. It was so easy to get lost in the sensation, but when he tried to sit you down on the bed, you stopped him.

"Tonight is about you, my love." You turned the two of you around and gently pushed him back to sit down, taking the time to admire his toned body as you knelt in front of him.

Thorin's eyes were wide with surprise and he almost looked as if he wanted to protest, but the twitch of his already hard cock gave him away.

"You... you don't have to-"

"I want to." His breath hitched when your lips traced his thigh, and you smiled. "Relax, my king..."

Any further protest was soon lost when you leaned forward and licked a long stripe up his length, wrenching a gasp from his lips. Your movements were slow, mapping out every inch of him with kitten licks until he was writhing impatiently before you, until you were done teasing and sucked his tip into your mouth.

The room was filled with the sounds of breathy groans and muttered Khuzdul that you could barely focus on as you continued. Thorin twisted his fingers into your hair when you began taking him inch by inch into your mouth - his grip was firm, but never controlling - and when you started bobbing your head he was certain that he must've been dreaming.

Looking up at him and pressing your thighs together to suppress your own arousal, you watched his head tilt back in ecstasy every time you pressed your tongue flat against his tip when you rose. The sounds he made were so beautiful that it was becoming more and more difficult to control yourself. Fortunately, it seemed you wouldn't need to for much longer. You felt the tension in his body increase with every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue, and as your movements grew faster you wrapped your hand around the base to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Yet, when you next looked up at him, he gently pushed you away, denying himself climax.

"Is everything alright, my love?"

He leant down for a brief kiss, still breathing heavily, and nodded. "That was... incredible." He took your hands and guided you to stand, then pulled you closer to straddle his lap.

"Then-" You inhaled sharply feeling his lips and teeth over your throat. "Then why didn't you let me finish?"

Thorin didn't answer for a moment, too busy creating a cluster of pink marks along your neck. When he was satisfied with his work, he tugged your hips down to press his hard length against you.

"Because I want to finish inside you, amralime."

You simply nodded, feeling too flustered and on edge to offer any sort of response beyond a whispered, "Please..."

Thorin stood up holding you, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, and carefully laid you down in the center of the bed. He slotted himself between your legs and wasted no time in moving to prepare you. Pausing to receive a nod of consent, he slid one thick finger into you, and you gasped at the sudden feeling. He soon added a second when you began rocking your hips against his hand impatiently, begging for more.

"Patience," he chuckled. "I do not want to hurt you."

"I don't care." You moaned breathlessly with every curl of his fingers. It felt like so much already, but still not enough. "I need you now, Thorin."

"Who would I be to deny my queen?"

He withdrew his fingers and you immediately pulled him forward to kiss you, a soft gasp being pulled from you when he ground his hips against you, ever so lightly pressing against your clit. Holding himself up over you with one hand, he used the other to guide his tip to your entrance and, swallowing your cries in the kiss, he slowly pushed into you.

His hand found yours and your fingers intertwined while he waited for any signs of your discomfort to fade. It was an uncomfortable stretch to fit his thick cock, but it soon became a welcome sensation, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to urge him on.

He moved carefully at first, until your cries of pain became cries of pleasure, and soon his hips snapped back against you much more firmly. Each thrust hit so deep inside of you, filling you up so perfectly, and his fingers gripped your hips almost tight enough to bruise. You clutched onto him tightly, trying to stay grounded amongst the sensations. One hand was buried in his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, the other was digging into his back, leaving scratches that you were sure would last a few days at least. Though it didn't seem to bother him - every time you dug your nails into his back, it seemed to be encouragement, and he relentlessly kept up his pace. It was firm and deep, but never rough, though part of you wondered how hard he would go if you asked.

With each thrust, you bucked your hips to meet him, trying to get more friction to ignite the coil of heat growing in your core. Thorin's moans soon grew louder, despite him trying to remain as quiet as he could, and when his rhythm grew unsteady his fingers slipped down to circle your clit as his teeth latched onto your neck again.

"Ghivashel..." he murmured, his voice strained. "I'm so close..."

Your mind was spinning with pleasure, and you felt yourself reaching your peak as well. "I am too..." you panted.

His hips shifted just enough to hit a spot inside you to make you see stars, and along with the attention on your clit and your neck, it was enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on him tightened as the coil snapped and heat spread through your body, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your cry of pleasure.

It seemed to last forever, and in your pleasure-filled haziness you registered Thorin also growing tense, and you heard his deep groan as he reached his climax and came inside of you. He felt so perfect, and you both stayed clinging onto each other, lost for breath, until you both came to.

Still catching his breath, he kissed your forehead and pulled out to lie next to you, and you couldn't help but whimper at the sudden emptiness.

He lay on his side, facing you, and brought your hand up to his lips. "You are so wonderful, amralime."

You smiled softly and shuffled closer, putting an arm over his waist and tucking your head under his. "So are you, my king."

You glanced back at the door to the room and chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Maybe we should lock the door next time."

[verbenaa]

to eden | chapter ten

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 7.1k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈:

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Astarion throws the knife aside, uncaring where it scatters itself as it clangs against stone with a sharp sound, before he cups her paling face within his palms. 

“Rin!” It will do no good yelling in her face when she’s very much not conscious as she lays still on the ground; but he can’t seem to help it, running his thumb over her cheek as something inside him snaps with a painful twist.

It’s a very strange feeling, the one bubbling up in his chest and throat to pierce his unbeating heart through, only carnage left in its wake. 

A part of him, one long forgotten about and buried deep into the forsaken corners of his mind, recognizes it for what it is. 

Fear.

𝒶/𝓃: hello again! apologies it's taken me so long to get this out. I ended up having to split this chapter into 2 due to the length, so here is the first part! hopefully the other half (which will now be ch 11) won't take nearly as long since it's about 75% done. love you all sm and let me know what you think in the comments! kisses xoxoxo

read on ao3 | masterlist

With blurring vision, Rin can see Karlach fell the last of them from her position on the ground as blood leaks out of her at a rate that she feels should probably be alarming, though she can’t quite find the energy to be all that concerned about it at the moment.

In hindsight, it was perhaps not the brightest idea she’s ever had to send herself leaping off a rock and into a horde of enemies in an attempt to distract them from the large, whirling portal that Halsin had disappeared into.

It was probably a very stupid idea.

It worked rather well in the end, though, so Rin will consider it a success in the long run; provided she doesn’t bleed to death on the cold, hard ground before they can celebrate their victory.

But fuck, if the consequences of her actions didn’t hurt.

This was far from Rin’s first time to be stabbed—that honor went to when she was a gawky and awkward teenager, hair chopped short and dressed in overlarge clothing; and had found herself cornered in an alleyway following a foiled escape attempt after snatching several gold pieces off a tavern tabletop. 

She had earned herself a small, pocket-sized knife to the side, slid neatly between two of her ribs. The blade had been barely longer than her fingers, the metal of it brittle and cheap; and so while it had certainly hurt she can’t say it really compared to the one she’s presently dealing with.

It was a good thing, in Rin’s opinion, that she couldn’t move. 

Because if she were able to look down and see the size of the dagger sticking out of her chest, she fears it might make the pain even worse. Some things were simply better not to know, and she’s convinced this has to be one of them.

She had been able to feel it as the blade had spiked through her leather armor before piercing into her skin; pain erupting in her chest and spreading through every inch of her body, so agonizing she could barely take a breath as she had staggered back.

She managed one last spell, a shockingly well-executed thunderwave towards a group of shades off to her side—she’ll need to be thanking Gale for helping her perfect her technique on that one, she reminds herself off-handedly—before she had sank to her knees and eventually down onto the bloody dirt. 

She doubts anyone even noticed her defeat in the chaos of it all, but surely they’ll notice soon. They have to, don’t they? Wasn’t she their leader, or whatever it was they liked to call her?

In the near distance, she recognizes the booming of Halsin’s voice as it resonates through the air and though she can’t focus on his words she can make out the vague sentiment that it was done and that he had succeeded in his mission. 

Rin manages a sigh of relief, the motion inordinately painful in this position. If she had more strength she would roll herself over or perhaps even call out for help, but that seemed like an awful lot of effort at a time like this.

Where was Shadowheart, anyway? She desperately needed the cleric and her healing touch, in the event she’s even closer to death than previously assumed, a fact that was looking more and more likely by the minute.

And what a truly awful place to die this would be, so dark and with nary a beam of sunlight to be found. Perhaps her companions would give her a nice burial somewhere, at least, were she to perish in the next few minutes. 

At the pretend funeral Rin oversees in her mind, she imagines a lovely hillside with wildflowers of all colors blowing on a gentle breeze—but there aren’t any of those nearby thanks to the curse.

Utterly depressing. 

She sighs again, sending another concerning stab of pain through her form, hands gripping on nothing but air as she suffers through it with a quiet, pained whimper.

Karlach, at least, would probably cry at her funeral; she was wonderfully soft-hearted like that. Gale, too, seemed like the sobbing type; the ones who always go all teary-eyed at weddings and funerals and baby celebrations. 

Astarion would—well, actually, she doesn’t want to think about what he would do at her pretend funeral. She hopes he would mourn her in some way, but in the end he’s already lost plenty and she’s just another person and someone he hasn’t even know that long on top of that and— 

An errant thought hits her, and oh, poor Astarion. Who else would he drink from were she to perish here? She’s certain none of their current companions would willingly offer up their necks (or any other parts, for that matter) to him.

There’s a quick pattering against the earth that reverberates against her head where it lays on the trampled and singed pine needles—footsteps, she realizes a bit too slowly for her liking—and it’s as if she’d summoned him with her thoughts as a familiar set of gloved hands turn her over with less finesse than she would expect from the rogue. 

Rin bites back a sob at the motion as she finds herself settling in Astarion’s hold, her head tucked into the curve of his arm and the elf’s features carefully blank, though there’s something that looks curiously like panic sparking across his claret gaze as his eyes meet her own.

“Hardly the place to be on your back, darling,” He manages as his eyes hone in on her newest accessory, unfortunately still attached to her. Or inside her, more accurately. 

Astarion’s voice is surprisingly smooth and soothing despite the increasingly frantic look in his eyes as they dart back and forth between her face and the dagger currently embedded deep in between the leather scales of her armor.

Rin likes the sound of it, she decides. He should speak to her in such a way more often, the dulcet tone of his words nothing short of lovely.

He could probably lull her to sleep if he were to keep talking, and she vaguely considers the idea. Astarion seemed to be decidedly opposed to the idea of them resting together in any other way, but maybe he’d allow it while she’s on her potential deathbed.

A pity that it had to be that way, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, could they?  

“Apologies,” Rin winces as she speaks, another wave of pain cascading through her. “I shall try to die closer to your bedroll next time around.”

Astarion tsks, the sound of it wonderfully familiar and a hazy smile settles on her lips as she lets her lashes slowly drift shut, only for a moment.

“Oh, I think there’s life in you yet. You’re far too pretty to die, dearest.”

She’d blush if her blood weren’t busy elsewhere, namely flowing out from her chest.

Distantly, Rin notices that his words aren’t quite so soothing this time around, something that sounds an awful lot like concern tightening around the edges of them; but it’s good enough for her and will do just fine as the darkness behind her eyes begins to beckon with a siren song that she’s unsure she can resist for much longer.

She’s bleeding all over Astarion, and not in the way she knows he would prefer; the bright ruby of her blood falling in a steady stream from where the knife is buried deep in the skin below her collar, hilted into the soft flesh of her breast and mere inches from her blessedly still-beating heart.

Gods, she must look like a mess.

Rin settles further into the darkness as she finds the strength to turn her head towards Astarion’s chest, nose bumping the darkly spun armor he wears (and fits him rather beautifully, she thinks) as she takes a shuddering breath, the sound wet and heavy.

Strange, she didn’t think breathing was supposed to make that noise.

“No, no. No sleeping,” Astarion says sharply despite what she thinks must be his thumb running up and down her armor where he holds her, his touch calming even through all the layers between them. “You can rest later, but now’s not the time.”  

But it was so tempting, what does he expect her to do? There’s a knife in her chest, her head feels funny, and he’s holding her so delicately in his arms. Going to sleep was the only logical solution at a time like this.

There’s more pounding of what Rin assumes must be footsteps and she somehow manages to catch pieces of Shadowheart and Halsin’s conversation from afar, their voices sounding far more distressed than they should be following success. 

Not a great sign, all things considered.

“Hey Soldier, you doing alright?” Karlach bends down from several paces away, trying to get a good look at her as heat still steams off of her from the battle, sweat and blood beaded upon her fiery skin in equal measure before directing her words towards Astarion. “She’s not kicked the bucket yet, has she?”

“Still here. Sorry to disappoint.” She manages a weak smile Karlach’s way as she forces her heavy, tired eyes to open. “However, I think I could do with some healing.”

Karlach smiles at her and Rin is suddenly dizzy despite not being in motion, inky black clinging to the edges of her vision as she blinks slowly in an attempt to clear the troublesome vignette encroaching upon her, its presence yet another decidedly bad sign of the state of her health.

Rin isn’t exactly sure whether its minutes or seconds that pass as she lays in Astarion’s arms, something strange in his gaze as he looks at her, but finally she feels the vibration of a final set of feet making their way towards her. 

She hears Shadowheart before she ever sees the cleric, her clear voice ringing out from beside Rin as she appears within her field of vision while she still lays tucked into Astarion’s chest. “Stay still so I can get a look at you.”

“How lucky for you that I can barely move,” Rin muses. 

The cleric only responds to her with a familiar, wry look laced with a touch of warmth before turning her attention to meet Astarion’s hard gaze, his thumb still brushing in sweeps across her arm.

“We’ve got to get the blade out before we can heal her.” Rin isn’t quite sure why Shadowheart is addressing Astarion and not her, the injured person, but she’s not in the mood to entertain the reason. “And fast. She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Oh, you don’t say?” Astarion scoffs with a baleful roll of his eyes, tugging her infinitesimally closer to him and Rin doesn’t even mind the lance of pain because she realizes she can still smell him over the scent of battle—rosemary and brandy and earthy citrus far preferable to the fire and acrid brimstone of battle. “Did Shar herself teach you such sagely medical advice?”

“At least I have medical advice to give. Vampires aren’t known for their healing prowess last time I checked.” Shadowheart cuts an imperious look Astarion’s way, chin raised.

“Can someone please just do me the honor of removing it, then?” Rin interrupts with a heaving sigh, the effort required peculiarly difficult.

There’s a beat of silence that has her contemplating the merits of falling asleep again, and she’s fairly certain she’s willing to risk the ire of her companions for a cozy little nap at this point.

“Astarion, your hands are likely the steadiest. Can you remove it without doing extra damage?” Shadowheart queries, her tone far more serious now.

“Of course I can,” He snaps in reply before he redirects his glance back to Rin’s face, expression softening. “I’ll be gentle. Or as much as I can be.”

She would hope he would be.

Carefully, Astarion shifts her back onto the ground and Rin mourns the loss of his arms, and it’s a very unfair exchange in her opinion—she’d much rather die in the comfort of his hold than on the impersonal chill of the ground.

She whimpers when his fingers meet the handle protruding from her chest, the slight motion managing to jostle it, sending another cascade of agony through her.

“Ready, darling?” His grip on the dagger is sure as he swallows, unease swirling in his eyes as they meet her own. A terrific sign of her fate, on all accounts. “On the count of five.”

Rin manages a nod as she stares up at him with clouded, hazy eyes that she doesn’t realize only serve to alarm him even more before speaking softly, tasting blood on the syllables as they weakly leave her lips. “I trust you.”

He looks as though she’s gutted him with her words as his brow creases and eyes widen as if stricken, which is rather ironic considering she’s the one with a knife inside her and he is practically free of any sort of wounds aside from a bloodied lip and a darkened eye as far as she can tell, still just as handsome as ever.

“One, two, three–” Astarion takes a deep breath and pulls, and the last thing Rin remembers before darkness overtakes her is the look of genuine apology on Astarion’s face as a searing pain erupts in her chest, her very last thought that he’s a downright liar for not waiting until he reached the number five.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

The first thing Astarion feels when Rin loses consciousness, the handle of the dagger that had just been buried in her chest now enclosed within his palm, is sheer, illogical panic.

It rings in his ears and sets his chest aflame, and if it weren’t for his terror that she was now dead and that he was the one who had accidentally killed her in his attempt to save her life instead, he would be concerned that something was awfully and horribly wrong with him instead.

Astarion himself was no stranger to pain or injury, having bled enough over the centuries to probably fill several fountains worth of his blood; and while her injury was undoubtedly quite pressing in the nature of its severity, the blade had thankfully avoided the important bits when it had imbedded itself into her skin.

If it hadn’t, she would have already been dead by the time he had reached her. 

But the sight of it, the blood pouring from the wound in rather copious amounts, the look of agony etched across her features, and then her eyes falling shut and body going lax—it was all very dramatic of her. 

A bard, indeed, if that performance was anything to go by.

Astarion throws the knife aside, uncaring where it scatters itself as it clangs against stone with a sharp sound, before he cups her paling face within his palms. 

“Rin!” It will do no good yelling in her face when she’s very much not conscious as she lays still on the ground; but he can’t seem to help it, running his thumb over her cheek as something inside him snaps with a painful twist.

It’s a very strange feeling, the one bubbling up in his chest and throat to pierce his unbeating heart through, only carnage left in its wake. 

A part of him, one long forgotten about and buried deep into the forsaken corners of his mind, recognizes it for what it is. 

Fear. 

Astarion has known fear, of course. 

He’s spent so many years afraid, alone, and hurting—he still vividly remembers the potent fear of death as it had loomed over him and then struck all those decades ago, only for him to awaken six feet underground with a hunger he’d never known the likes of before in the pit of his stomach as he had clawed his way to what he thought was to be his freedom.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

He remembers each and every moment of fear instilled in him by Cazador with an unfortunate, visceral clarity; every trembling ounce of it as he had waited for a punishment to be handed down, for the door to slam in his face to lock him away for Gods knew how long, for whatever other horror had been divined up for him—all of them perfectly designed to break body and soul and spirit.

But he’s not quite sure he’s ever felt fear like this for someone else before.

Astarion immediately hates the feeling with every fiber of his being.

“What’s happened to her?!” He demands at Shadowheart and there’s something frantic that shakes in his voice, the sound of which he’s wholly unfamiliar with as his eyes fixate on Rin’s face, looking as though she had simply fallen into a deep sleep, though the pained furrow of her brow tells a different story.

He hates that he hates the sight of it as his thumb continues to brush foolishly across her now pale cheeks, the freckles dotting her skin in familiar clusters standing out against the pallor of her face, as if the motion would coax her back awake and ease the pain causing it somehow.

“She just fainted, Astarion.” The cleric sends him a look that he does not appreciate, and he scowls back at her in response. “She’ll be fine so long as you let me focus.”

Karlach takes a step closer behind him, the heat emanating off of her hitting him like a wave. “Aw, did she pass out? Poor Rin.” 

Normally, he wouldn’t mind the warmth from the infernal engine that churns inside her chest, but now all it does is make the cold sweat that’s beading on his skin that much more noticeable, sending an unshakable chill through him instead.

“Her pain tolerance leaves much to be desired, it seems,” Shadowheart drawls before she sighs, raising her hands in front of her and hovering them over Rin’s increasingly still body.

Too still for his liking, her chest moving up and down with only the slowest of motions. Much longer, and it would simply stop moving altogether. 

Astarion ignores the way his throat tightens at the thought, unable to swallow down the rampant terror surging through his chest.

“Can you just heal her already? Insult her to her face when she’s awake.” 

“I’m getting to it.” Shadowheart cuts a glare towards Astarion, though it doesn’t have half the bite the Sharran thinks it does. 

“Te Curo.”

Slowly, waves of glowing blue begin to emanate from Shadowheart’s palms, enveloping Rin in a familiar, soft effervescence and Astarion can imagine the feeling of it—a cooling sensation followed by the telltale itch of skin reknitting itself, the feeling vaguely uncomfortable and slightly sickening.

He’s been healed enough times to know that Shadowheart’s spell should be enough to close the wound, but the strange panic slicing at his insides seems intent to not let up despite the spell’s conclusion, that icy cerulean haze slowly evaporating from the air like the clearing of mist.

“We need to get her out of this armor, I want to make sure the wound healed fully. Karlach, since we’re so close, can you carry her back to camp?” Shadowheart queries with a glance up.

For once, Astarion agrees with the cleric though he’s not about to admit it, and only gives out a murmured affirmation in response as he counts the breaths moving Rin’s chest.

The tiefling walks up behind him and he begrudgingly stands to move out of the way for her to take his place, and he once again hates the feeling that resonates through him at having to leave her side. 

How tiring this all was beginning to be.

“Up ya go,” Karlach gathers her up as carefully as she can, and Rin looks pitifully small and slight in Karlach’s hold. “Ooh, light as a feather, isn’t she?”

“It’s because her head is mostly empty,” Astarion edges out. “It’s a wonder the worm even has anywhere to hide itself in that brain of hers.”

If she had a brain, she certainly hadn’t used it today. Her logic—provided there even was any at work—was infuriating, and anger threatens to intercede over the slowly lessening grip of fear that had taken ahold of him. 

He considers allowing it. 

Anger was a much more palatable emotion, after all. One that he understands. 

Being angry was comfortable, easy; something that he knows all too well how to wear like an armor that he can summon up at will. He doesn’t like the way this newfound fear has settled over him, clawing up his throat to choke him and paralyze his heart even though it no longer beats.

Anger would be much preferred, in the end. 

But the anger doesn’t yet come, not really—or at least not in the way he would expect.

He can feel it burning there, a slow simmer in the depths of his chest at the sheer stupidity, the idiocy of her forgetting that she was very much mortal and therefore quite liable to injury; but a foreign sort of relief intercedes over it, taking control of and transforming his anger into something else that he doesn’t quite understand or yet have a name for as he keeps his gaze trained upon where Rin rests near motionless in Karlach’s arms. 

She might not be conscious, but she was very much alive.

And he’s damned to the hells and back for caring about that fact.

Part of him—the irritating part that seemed to be upset, of all things—wishes he were the one holding her instead.

But at the very least, out of everyone to get to carry her, Karlach was the next best option so Astarion shall allow it as he walks on beside them, his eyes on the lookout for any trouble heading their way despite the fact that they’d already walked back into the shimmering dome of Selûne’s light.

They’re bustling into Rin’s tent within minutes, Karlach settling her onto a still-unmade bedroll, the threadbare blanket kicked into a messy heap at the foot of it, yet to be pulled back up for the day.

“Right then,” Shadowheart says in a no-nonsense tone as she steps inside, briefly glancing around the tent before kneeling beside Rin’s still sleeping form. “Armor off.” 

They set to work and no one mentions Astarion’s ease at undoing her armor or the way his now-ungloved fingers know exactly where the next buckle or tie is before discarding it to the side with practiced finesse. 

Her shirt’s a bloody mess when they finally peel the scaled leathers and ruined gambeson off her form, now stained the deep, dark crimson of her own blood down the front in a ghastly splash, tainting the simple embroidery along the hem.

“Off with it.” Shadowheart gestures with a nod of her chin towards Astarion. “The shirt, I mean.” 

“You want me to take off her shirt?” He narrows his eyes at her before lowering his gaze back down to the garment in question.

“Well, you certainly have the most practice at getting her out of her clothes, do you not?” 

Astarion scoffs and rolls his eyes, but can’t exactly refute the fact. 

Nor would he want to. 

“Why, is that jealousy I detect in your voice, Shadowheart?”

It’s not escaped his knowledge that some of their companions had made their own invitations to her once upon a time—she herself had said so before she had chosen him, after all—and he can’t help the slight hint of gloating in his voice as he jeers at the cleric. 

He’d never questioned Rin as to who had, exactly, professed their interest; but he knows how they all look at her. The sight of it has certainly annoyed him enough the past few weeks.

“You’re hearing things,” Shadowheart responds sharply as she glares his way. “Now, are you doing it or am I?”

“Oh, I’ll do it,” He grumbles in defeat, though he’s not certain there was ever any sort of actual debate on his answer. 

As if he’d let anyone else undress her under his watch. Even if it was only for very valid medical reasons. 

The tunic was undeniably wet with blood, sticking to her skin as it begins to dry. His eyes flit up to Rin’s face, brow blissfully uncreased as she still sleeps on, wholly unaware of his apparent inner turmoil. 

The sight of it and the knowledge that she’s perhaps no longer in much pain sends a wave of relief through him that he didn’t realize he needed, and it’s yet another strange feeling that he’s not used to.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s even bothered to consider someone else’s well-being, and he’s unsure what to make of it. 

Caring in such a manner is crossing a line he’s had drawn for centuries, and he fears once it’s been stepped across, there will be no turning back.

“Can’t you just…rip it off her? Like they do in the books?” Karlach queries from beside him, arms crossed in front of her chest as she sways from foot to foot, her non-broken horn mere inches from snagging on the canopy.

“I would have thought that was in your particular skill set, Astarion.” Shadowheart agrees, quite unhelpfully in Astarion’s opinion, from beside him.

He was very capable of tearing off clothes when inclined to do so, thank you very much.

“Even if it is—” Astarion cuts a sharp look towards Shadowheart before continuing. “She’d burn me alive if I ripped her shirt. Without her permission, at least.” 

He knows he doesn’t need to add on the last part, but it felt necessary in order to preserve his image as a rakish, no good sort of man. Which he most definitely is, of course.

Astarion remembers the last time she threatened to burn down his tent (and him with it), and he has no intention of inciting another threatened ignis from her; or at least not for this,of all things. If he must be threatened in such a manner again, he’d rather it be for a much more enticing and scandalous reason, not because he was trying to do something as tedious as saving her damned life.

“Can you not just peek underneath it? Why must it be taken all the way off?” He demands, unable to pinpoint why, exactly, he’s so bothered by this.

It was just a shirt. And she was just another person, in the end.  

He’s lost count of how many times he’s undressed others and undressed her—the contours of her form an image he could envision in his mind and conjure the feeling of against his fingers without a second thought.

He could do it easily. In seconds, probably, even with all the blood sticking to her skin.

It would be rather uncomfortable for her to stay in her tunic like that. He can imagine the stiffness of it, knows the feeling all too well firsthand, and he shifts uncomfortably with a frown as he stares at her.

“Fine,” He relents with a groan while Karlach just watches on amused, though he doesn’t understand what she seems to find so humorous about this entire debacle. 

Astarion suddenly wishes the others weren’t here, that he wasn’t here and being forced to face the fact that she had practically died and that he seems to feel rather strongly about that fact, but he pushes the unhelpful and unnecessary chatter in his mind aside as he works her tunic off of her sleeping form instead.

It takes all of his dexterity to keep his motions soft and smooth, jostling her as little as possible until he’s finally pulled it up and over her head before bringing the fabric up to his face to examine the slash.

A clean cut through the weave and it’s really a wonder she managed to live through the battle at all. He’d have to mend it for her, later on. It wouldn’t take too long and with any luck he could return it before she’d even noticed it was gone in the first place.

The shirt may have been utterly drab and boring to the point of offense, but if he’s not careful, she’ll pick something worse next time around—Gods know the rags they’ve found so far on this journey have been downright awful.

Shadowheart leans in as he stashes the ruined tunic beside him and out of sight from the others, and she lets out a pleased hum as she checks the wound, poking at the reknitted skin with a gentle touch.

There’s a swish of fabric that has Astarion’s head swiveling towards the entrance of the tent, reflexes at the ready and hand reaching for one of the daggers at his side when none other than Gale, of all people, sticks his head inside.

“Is everything alright in here?” The wizard asks in a manner he likely thinks is helpful, when in reality it’s actually just plain irritating, at least in Astarion’s opinion. “Is anyone in need of my expertise?”

The wizard’s gaze peruses the interior of the tent, wandering from object to object as he takes in the space for what Astarion assumes must be the first time. His eyes stop, though, on the form lying in the middle of it all.

Gale of all people would not be seeing Rin’s nearly naked body if he has anything to do with it—and thankfully, he does!—so Astarion shoots a cold glare the wizard’s way as he maneuvers himself in front of her form, shielding her from the pair of wandering eyes.

“Out of here, mate. No one invited you,” Karlach sighs out at the same time as Shadowheart says cooly, “No, Gale. I seem to have things perfectly under control without your help.”

“Well, I didn’t realize this was an invite-only sort of thing. I simply wanted to check in on our fearless leader’s well-being and offer up some of my rather extensive knowledge, if needed. That’s all, nothing more.” He holds up his hands in mock-surrender, the gesture infinitely grating.

“Her well-being is very much already being taken care of,” Astarion snaps, words as cold as ice. “So go find something else to use all of your ‘expertise’ on.”

“And with that—” The wizard sends him a pointed look which Astarion merely glares back in response to. “—I shall go busy myself elsewhere. Good luck and goodbye!” 

The wizard backs out of the tent as quickly as he had peeked his head in, gone in a flash of garish purple to go do whatever the hells it was that he did when not annoying someone else. 

Good riddance.

Shadowheart releases an audible sigh as she moves to stand to her full height post unwanted interruption. “Well, she shall live another day. Once she wakes up, she’ll probably be back to her normal self and serenading us all drunk at the campfire by dinner. My work here is done.”

He looks at Rin’s sleeping face once more—still so dreamy, sweet, and unaware. 

Defenseless as a fawn. Terribly mortal. The definition of an easy target.

“I can—” Astarion starts, back stiff. “I will watch over her.”

The two women turn to him, their expressions both far too intrigued by his words for his tastes.

“Well, then, Astarion.” Shadowheart says, brow raised in skepticism. “We’ll leave her in your…capable hands.”

Karlach affords him a genuine smile as she ambles towards the exit and he swears she lets out a noise that sounds an awful lot like an ‘aw’ to Shadowheart as she ducks between the flaps, though he will not be acknowledging that at this present moment. 

The two of them share a final look—highly unnecessary, in his opinion—as they leave together, and the tent is rather abruptly very empty and very silent, the soft sound of Rin’s breathing the only noise.

He stands frozen, staring at her sleeping form—she looks so much more human in her sleep, so mortal and delicate without her sharp words to act as armor—as a barrage of thoughts hit him all at the same time, warring together against him.

He’s not even sure why he’s still here, why he even volunteered for such a thing, considering she was fine now. 

More than fine, honestly.

She was alive, which is what matters. She doesn’t really need someone to just watch her sleep, for Gods sake.

But he’s compelled to stay by some unknown force that he relents to despite the blaring in his head telling him to leave and get out while he still could. Nothing good could come from being this near to her sleeping form, for who knows what that ever-present traitorous voice will tell him to do. 

Likely something sweet—a sickening thought, as always.

Astarion shifts from foot to foot, unsure of what quite to do with himself. He’s never really been much of a caretaker, so to speak. 

The opposite of one, really. 

But Rin, for all her lack of consciousness, seems settled enough; her lovely face clear of any discomfort despite the speckles of drying blood scattered across her cheek and neck as her chest rises and falls in a slow, even rhythm. 

With unsure hands, he reaches out and tugs the blanket at her feet, pulling it up until it rests underneath her chin, covering her nakedness and guarding her from the ever-present chill of the curse that hovers around them. 

His bare hand brushes against her neck by accident, her skin soft but still just a touch too chilled and he’s quick to yank it back, flexing his fingers before balling them up into a fist as his stare becomes harder the longer he fixates on her sleeping face.

Astarion, unfortunately, remembers watching her go down in unnervingly stark detail. 

He hadn’t seen her jump off that rock and into the chaos, otherwise he would have done more, done something at the very least, to cover her. 

But he did see it when that dagger hit her, a warning immediately going off in his head as he had noted exactly where the blade had been directed. It was a kill shot, certainly, and frankly he’s surprised that the cultist who threw it had managed such precise aim. 

In his mind, he could still hear the startled gasp that left her lips as the knife had hit and she had fallen to her knees, sending off a final spell before collapsing into the dirt.

It was the least he could do, in the end, to show the cultist what precise aim actually looked like.

An arrow to the throat, perfectly placed to cut through the windpipe, was all it took to down his new number one target and though he unfortunately did not get the opportunity to watch them suffocate—he had more important things to deal with—he knows that at the very least it was an appropriately miserable way to die.

He had feared the worst when he had finally reached her; fully expecting to turn her over and see those vibrant green eyes he liked so much staring blankly ahead, devoid of life, and her chest frozen on her final breath. 

Discovering her still alive, though hurt, was a much better outcome. 

Rin even still possessed the wherewithal to respond to him with some semblance of her usual irreverence and it had taken all of his self-control to not do something rash like profess his relief at the sound of her voice and the life still held within it.

Still, she managed to have the last laugh in the end, those damned words of hers clanging around in his head regardless whether he wishes them to or not.

‘I trust you.’ 

Gods. She may as well have staked him in the heart with that little sentence, for he doesn’t deserve her trust. 

Not after the way he’s been playing her like a fool for weeks and months now—he forgets which it is sometimes, the days and nights of their exploring and killing blending into one another; the only moments that stand out to him those that feature her in the center of them recently, the number of which seem to be increasing by the day and if he’s not careful she will be the only thing on his mind, her name and face a constantly repeating banner in his thoughts.

Although at this point, he’s not so certain he isn’t actually playing himself as well.

He must be set on his own demise, clearly, to harbor such…feelings toward her, even if he doesn’t—and won’t—admit the existence of them to himself most of the time.

What is he supposed to do with such useless things, anyway? He indulges in her enough as it is, any more will only put him at a level of risk he can’t afford.

With a sigh, he steps away from her figure, blanket securely pulled up around her to preserve her warmth and preferred modesty, a quirk about her he finds to be so very entertaining with how quickly and with such great enthusiasm she seems to shed her clothing for him. 

As it were, she wasn’t keen to show terribly much of her pretty skin—a loss for humanity at large, in his opinion, as she looks very lovely wearing very little; but a win for him, as he gets to enjoy the sight all on his own with no one else the wiser of the beauty she keeps hidden beneath those drab tunics of hers. 

Comfortable, she calls them. He scoffs at the idea.

No wonder she never made much money as a bard. Perhaps if she indulged in some of the more risqué fashions he’d seen others don over the years, she would have been more successful at her art.

With little else to do he resigns himself to waiting, though he isn’t quite sure what for. For her to awaken from her slumber, perhaps? It would invite a rather awful amount of questions, though, were he to be present at such a moment. 

Questions he is unwilling to answer.

So, Astarion doesn’t count the time as it passes and simply busies himself with a variety of other things instead. Time, he has found, can be quite strange when one finds themselves immortal and so he has gotten rather good, if he may say so himself, at filling the minutes and hours as they leisurely pass around him.

He pays half-attention to the errant thoughts that swirl in his head as he cleans the sharp edges of his many blades—though he avoids the ones that center too intensely around Rin, for now.

He looks at her makeshift vanity and at the only makeup she apparently possessed in an attempt to decipher why, precisely, he always seems to find her lips to be so enchanting— he finds a pretty rose colored balm that he knows can be used on both lips and cheeks, however the discovery does little to solve his mystery.

He uncorks the almost empty bottle of perfumed oil she uses to sniff at it for himself, another foray into his prior investigation—it smells so much better on her than it does in the bottle, but he isn’t quite sure why or how that is, and again leaves him with more questions than answers.

He stares at the single stalk of purple foxglove she had somehow procured and placed into a small decanter to act as the singular decoration in her tent and he counts every bell-shaped flower—he’s impressed she managed to find a living plant in a place so cursed, even if it is still poisonous in the end, but it adds a certain warmth to her tent that feels so very her he can barely stand it.

He’s flipping through one of the books she has stacked in a corner—The Druid Who Daredaccording to the worn and broken spine, the decidedly indecent contents on several dog-eared pages of which he will definitely not be forgetting about—when he comes across something hidden in between two thin pages.

It’s nothing unusual, especially in her tent, just an innocuous piece of parchment folded thrice. 

The same way she happens to fold all of her letters.

Astarion’s brow quirks as he takes a glance back at Rin, still snuggled peacefully in her blanket and none the wiser.

He shouldn’t. He knows better. 

Most people don’t read other people’s personal letters, especially when said person is something like a lover, even if their situation is somewhat complicated.

But Astarion considers himself to be infinitely worse than most people and can’t help the curiosity that fills him when he sees what looks an awful lot like his name written many times over in dark ink bleeding through the thin vellum.

He’s seconds from reaching into the book, intent on grabbing the slip of parchment to open and read it, careful and covert, when he hears the soft rustling of movement behind him. 

Astarion slams the book shut as if it had grown teeth and threatened to eat him, setting it back onto the stack where he had found it lightning-quick as he turns back around, expecting to be heavily berated to when he inevitably meets what he assumes will be a very angry bard.

When he does turn, however, he’s greeted instead by the sight of Rin not yet fully awake, only just stirring with soft groan and her back arching in a stretch, head tossing to the side.

Luck, it appeared, is on his side today. 

In more ways than one.

Despite his apparent good luck, however, he’s now faced with the issue of leaving. Because he certainly can’t be found in her tent standing over her like some guardian angel.

How could he possibly explain to her that he’s been watching over her like some nurse, caring for her like he has any right to—even if only by watching her from afar.

He doesn’t have the words to explain himself and so he will not. 

But he doesn’t plan on being too far away tonight, either way. Someone needs to keep an eye on her in the event something happens. He doesn’t know what that something might be, but his point still stands. It may as well be him to take on the job.

And so, Astarion grabs his gloves along with her ripped, bloodied blouse and flees with every ounce of stealth at his disposal, sneaking out of her tent just as Rin’s eyes begin to flutter open.