#I TRIED SO HARD TO REIN HIM AND KILLER IN

[nehswritesstuffs]

fly little seagull, the world awaits - Part 5 of 5

Okay, NOW I promise we’re done, lol. I have actually two different endings for this, but the first I wrote less than a day before I read ch 1079, which then screwed it up, so you have this one now instead ahahaha I’ll also let y’all figure out for yourself what got written before and after I read 1081 last week (more before than what you might think), so... enjoy!

Chapter 1 on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Chapter 2 on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Chapter 3 on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Chapter 4 on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Onigashima shall rise and fall. A boy shall become a man. Friends shall part ways. A certain legacy shall come full-circle despite the need to be broken. [14,616 words; AU where history repeats itself in the worst way]

It had not been long and Nauja was beginning to deeply regret her decision to sneak onto Onigashima. Tengu-ya had been extremely angry when they had left and she was beginning to understand why. She didn’t have a Devil Fruit ability like Tama or Momonosuke—only her knife—and things were already pretty hairy. There was not a familiar face around as she and Tama wandered around the chaos; most of the people running by them were Beast Pirates and other lackeys of Kaidou and Orochi.

“Okay, let’s split up,” Tama decided. They were both riding on Komachiyo, having snuck off Speed’s ship when no one was looking. “We can cover more ground that way.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“We’re here as samurai—we need to find our units,” the junior kunoichi reasoned. “Your father and his men should be around somewhere, while I have to find the Straw Hats and distribute these dango.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Nauja nodded. She and Tama high-fived before she slid off Komachiyo’s back. “Let’s do this!”

“Right!” Tama rode off speedily, while Nauja crept about in the shadows, trying to not be seen by the large amount of adults that were wandering about. Some of them were engaged in fighting, while others were simply going to and from different stations. She eventually found a large alcove where she could catch her breath without anyone around, glad for the breather. Her dirk was already getting heavy against her wrists and she wasn’t anywhere near a member of the crew.

“…a child…?” a voice marveled. Nauja jumped nearly out of her skin and turned around, raising her knife in defense. There, she saw a strange blond man standing there, his expression unreadable, but there was no mistaking him for any of the other bounty posters she had been quizzed on. “What is a child doing here…?”

“What do you want with me, Basil Hawkins?!” she snapped. Instead of answering her directly, he brought out his tarot cards, the bits of paper hanging in the air.

“A Paradise accent tempered by a conspicuous Northern lilt,” he said, swishing the cards around. “Approximately seven or eight years old, accurate identification of other pirates, bladed weapon, very short hair, yellow and black hearts on her lavender yukata, a Sora backpack and matching charm on her weapon’s sheath… probability of being a certain Supernova surgeon’s natural child or ward… ninety-seven-point-two-six percent.” Nauja shivered and a chilling smile crept onto his face. “I was correct.”

“Get lost, you creep.”

“On the contrary: I think I found my way to get back on Kaidou’s good side,” Hawkins observed. “With this offering, I might survive that much longer.” He held out his hand. “Come, child, I shall bring you to safety. All this fighting must be scary…”

“No,” she snapped. Her dirk wavered in her hands. “You said Kaidou—I can’t trust you.”

“He’s not necessarily interested in you, child, but your father,” he said. “You’re worth more to him alive, trust me on that at the very least.”

“I won’t go with you!”

“Do not make me use force—I do still have some respect for your father, after all.”

“Then don’t you dare touch her!”

Out of seemingly nowhere, a large rock seemed to teleport itself to slam into Hawkins, which he had to create a straw shield to defend against. When he brushed aside the rubble, he saw Law had slid onto the scene, looking rather worse for wear as he knelt down and brought his daughter into a hug before he began physically checking her for injuries.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!” Law scolded, panting hard from his effort to get to her side. His heart felt as though it was going to explode out of his chest. “I told you to wait with the other kids!”

“Vaor, I did wait with Tama-ya… kind of…” the girl grimaced. “She’s here too…”

“You girls are in so much trouble!” Law groaned. “After all that, you deliberately disobeyed me and now you’re in the one place I wanted you far away from?! How did you even get past Tengu-ya?!”

Nauja bit the insides of her lips and tried to look away guiltily—busted.

“Quite possibly, my fortunes have changed.” Hawkins stared at the cards in front of him before clearing them from the air. “A forty-percent increase… it’s worth it.”

Glaring at his fellow Supernova, Law held Nauja close to his side as he extended his free arm, attempting to activate a Room to get them out of there. It wasn’t working, with each attempt flickering out in his panic.

“Kaidou is going to love this,” Hawkins stated. He drew his sword, readying to strike. “Trafalgar and his brat, handed to him on a—”

Just then, a massive roar cut him off, so loud that it shook everything around them. Hawkins turned to look and instead got a face full of allosaurus tail, which cleared him through the far wall. The dinosaur slowly stomped into full view, growling lowly at the broken wall before shifting down into X Drake’s Human form.

“Are you two alright?” he asked. He saw Nauja’s eyes were wide in amazement; few kids were immune to the charm of a literal dinosaur saving them.

“It was under control,” Law hissed.

“Mmhmm, sure.” Drake watched as the other man put the child down and leaned against the wall in an effort to catch his breath properly. “Hey… can I, uh, give her something?”

“What could you possibly have to give?” Law asked. Drake bent down and picked up a pen Hawkins must have dropped when he was hit and procured a piece of paper from his inner jacket pocket. Law raised an eyebrow, knowing full-well what sort of paper it was.

“Something I never really should have had on me to begin with.” He knelt down and used the floor as a writing surface before beckoning Nauja over. “What is your name, darling?”

“Trafalgar Nauja,” the girl beamed. “Who are you?”

“Nice to meet you, Nauja. My name is X Drake, and as you can tell, your father and I know each other… in a way.”

“You sound a little like him. Are you also from the North Blue?”

“I am,” the man admitted. “I even have a father like you have Trafalgar here. Got him in a similar way, if what I hear is correct.”

“Your dad’s navigator found you and he just kind of took over?”

“More like my father’s friend found me, but close enough.” He sat directly on the floor in an attempt to hunch over more and be at her eye-level better—curse his height. “I even have a brother, although I never met him. He left our father’s life as I entered it. Although I’ll never know his laugh or hear his voice or learn what he thinks of me, I’ve been living in his shadow this entire time… seeing and experiencing the consequences of his actions. He’s like a ghost, in a way, and there’s something telling me that he would want you to have this.”

Drake held out the paper and handed it to Nauja. She looked at Law before accepting it, only doing so once he nodded. Looking down at the note, she scrunched her nose in thought.

“‘Please take care of her. Dorry.’ That’s weird. Why do you want me to have this?”

“…because one day, you might run out of options,” Drake said. “Your father is strong and capable, but even he has limits. If you ever find yourself with nowhere to hide, and he can’t help you, let this paper guide you to my father. Call him Grandpapa and give him a hug and show him this paper.” He then paused for a moment. “Do you know what a Vivre Card is?”

“Oh, yeah! We have some of those! That’s what this is?” She held open her palm and laid the paper in it—sure enough, it began to shuffle across her fingers.

“Yes. Remember: only use it as a last resort. There is only so much my father can do for you, but it’s safer than wandering around on your own. He will make sure nothing bad happens while you’re in his care… he will think of what my brother would have done—what my brother did for a scared little boy before he died—and will hide you from the bad people in the world until you are ready to face them yourself.”

“Then I’ll keep it safe,” the girl nodded. She carefully secured the note in her yukata sleeve. “Thank you, Dinosaur-ya, for this special gift.”

“…and how do I know I can trust your father?” Law asked. Drake shrugged and stood.

“You don’t,” he replied honestly. “Is this a risk? It’s a major one, but you are the only one who can truly talk to him about my brother, and that is at least worth something.”

In an instant, everything felt to Law as though it shifted violently and clicked into place as he stared at the other Supernova… this now-former Tobiroppo… there was more to him than he could have ever imagined. He wasn’t just any deserted Marine… he was Sengoku’s project after Cora-san died… Law was sure of it. His eyes went to the Vivre Card in Nauja’s hand—to trust her with it was to trust him with it, Drake clearly under the assumption that he wasn’t going to use it to attack the former Fleet Admiral. The other man’s actions were all beginning to make a lot more sense, even if all it did was make him more conflicted…

“Does he know about her…?”

“Possibly…? He doesn’t hear a lot of chatter these days, but at the same time, many of Kaidou’s officers know she exists. The intel might stay on Wano, it might extend off the island—that I can’t say. What I can say, however, is that it wasn’t me if it gets leaked.”

Just then, a massive burst of Haki came from the ruined wall, causing Drake to shove Nauja towards Law. “Hawkins is coming to; I suggest you book it.”

The little family did, not even turning around to watch Drake morph into an allosaurus and roar so loud he shook the building.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Law slashed the last of the guards down and finished descending the staircase into the lowermost basement. Nauja tap-tap-tapped her way down the rest of the stairs, avoiding her father’s unfortunate victims. The room they entered held a large blue stone, covered completely with strange symbols that made the little girl’s eyes go wide.

“This is a Poneglyph?” she marveled. Law nodded, placing his hand on the smooth, cool stone.

“It is—people have died for so much as being able to read what’s on it.”

“You can read that…?!”

“I can’t, but Nico-ya can. Her home island died because some of them could read Poneglyphs. She was the only survivor.”

“…like you…?”

“Indeed.” He let his fingertips catch in the grooves, feeling the enormous weight of the writing’s unknown message. “I wonder how many people died for this over the centuries.”

“Couldn’t they just listen…?” Nauja asked. She looked up at Law and tilted her head. “It’s whispering… you don’t even need to read it.”

“You can… hear it…?” He looked at her and raised his eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“I… don’t… know…?” The little girl looked at the Poneglyph and tilted her head. “It’s just kinda… I dunno… humming, I guess…? In a way? I understand it.”

“…and what is it saying?”

“It’s talking about a legendary warrior and how he killed a dragon with a perfect sword, becoming a hero to all of Wano and the world,” she replied, wrinkling her nose in thought. “Do you think I can hear it because it’s part of the age-related hearing range?”

“No… I think you can hear it because of something special.” He placed his hand on her head and stroked her hair.

“Symetesia…?”

“No, not synesthesia,” he paused, “more like the Voice of All Things. I’ve heard of it being something before, but wasn’t certain about the existence of such a talent due to the rarity and lack of clinical observation.”

“Really…? It’s rare…? Then why can Momo-ya hear it too…?”

Law stared at his daughter. “What do you mean?”

“Momo-ya could hear a voice at Zou. I couldn’t make it out, so I ignored it, but he could hear it clearly. That was the excuse he used to hide in his room all the time.”

“Was it now…?” He needed something to tell her, and quickly. “If it is the Voice of All Things, then that is a rare trait, possibly an offshoot of Observation Haki if my theory is correct.” He considered something briefly, then knelt down to be at her eye level. “Does this whisper anything about the Will of D.?”

Nauja paused, closing her eyes. “No. Why? What’s that?”

“Cora-jiisan once told me that the People of the D. are the enemies of the gods… meaning the Celestial Dragons. Something the crew doesn’t know—not even Bepo-ya—is that I am one of them.”

“You… you are…?”

“Trafalgar D. Water Law was the entire name your opa and oma gave me, the name your jiisan told me to keep hidden,” he explained. He placed his hand on the cool stone of the Poneglyph again, Nauja copying him. “Nico-ya says I must search for the Poneglyphs in order to discover the truth. What you told me confirms I need the red ones.”

A low rumbling shook the floor, making the plaster above them creak.

“A sub-basement is probably not the best place to be right now, in retrospect,” Law noted. He grabbed Nauja again and opened a Room, bringing them to a higher floor again and the heat of the battle. “Those assholes better not do anything drastic without me.”

“Uh… that looks kinda drastic,” Nauja squeaked. She was pointing to some nearby rubble, which contained an arm draped in a familiar kimono sleeve.

“Shit,” Law spat. He put Nauja down and spotted the familiar allosaurus on the other side of the hall. “There’s Drake-ya. Stay with him. I’ve got some samurai to bring down here.”

“Vaor…?” He looked at her and saw that her eyes were glassy with tears. “I’m sorry for sneaking over here anyhow despite agreeing not to. Please come back.”

“I’ll do my best, famke,” he echoed. He pressed a kiss to her hair before swapping her with a rock next to Drake and himself with a splinter of wood from an even higher building level.

Honoring an alliance sure was shit.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Drake wasn’t certain as to why he had Trafalgar’s child by his side again so soon, but he definitely imagined it had something to do with the fact her father was on the roof of the building fighting with Kaidou and Big Mom. He allowed her to sit on his oversized allosaurus foot, the girl clinging to his leg as he stomped around in an attempt at intimidating people. Anyone who dared to snatch or otherwise harm her got either tail or teeth making the definitive decision for them: no.

Not on his watch.

Drake fought and intimidated the Beast Pirates while he watched over not only Nauja, but the little reindeer-doctor as he synthesized a cure for the chilly disease that was ripping through Beast Pirates and Alliance members alike, not caring about things such as sides and loyalties. He only began to relax as the Straw Hats’ doctor blasted a cure into the air. It even had a certain smell to it—sweet with a hint of spice—that brought him back to the infirmary of Tsuru’s ship, where he had been laid up for so, so long after she had found him. The girl slid off his foot and he shifted back into his Human form, looking over the scene as frozen limbs melted and the healing flames from Whitebeard’s former doctor, of all people, seas be damned, flickered out.

“NAUJA!” The girl jumped as she heard her name called, seeing Shachi run up to her and Drake, accompanied by two of Kid Pirates. He flicked her on the forehead, which caused her to squeak. “What are you doing here?! Does the captain know?!”

“He knows,” she admitted sourly. “I’m just here with Dinosaur-ya because Vaor’s up there.” She pointed at the giant hole in the ceiling. A roar just above the basement of Human hearing came from the hole, which made them all shudder.

“Impressive,” one of the Kid Pirates nodded.

“I think we can take it from here, beefcakes,” the other Kid Pirate said, giving Drake a wink. Shachi facepalmed, her crewmate ignored her, and Drake simply stared.

“We’re kind of in the middle of a life-or-death war here…” he mentioned.

“Little flirt don’t hurt,” she shrugged. She then looked at Nauja, who seemed some level of disturbed. “C’mon kiddo; let’s get you to the main of the group before shit gets too hairy around here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nauja replied. The adults all exchanged a quick look—yeah, kid must have been in a ton of trouble already. They left Drake’s side to head on back to the little group of Penguin, Bepo, and some stray Kid Pirates, who were fighting Beasts Pirates to the best of their abilities.

“Oh, fuck,” Penguin cussed soon as he saw Nauja. “Cap’s gonna blow a gasket…”

“Already blown!” Nauja insisted. “I think I’m grounded until I’m older than Bone-ya.”

“Sounds about right,” another Kid Pirate nodded. He then noticed a large horned person running their way. “Ah, fuck, another strong-looking one…” Except, Shinobu was there too…? The fuck…? “Hey, what’s going on?!”

“Are you the one referred to as Trafalgar Nauja?” the tall person with Shinobu asked, voice booming. The pirates all tensed, only not attacking because they knew the kunoichi was trustworthy.

“Uhh… yeah…?”

“Oh, good!” squeaked a voice from nearby. It sounded familiar…

“Momo-ya…?”

Sure enough, Momonosuke fell out of the tall person’s pant leg and ran up to Nauja, wrapping her in a hug. “I heard that you and the junior kunoichi had joined the battle! It’s so auspicious that you’re still alive!”

“It’s… auspicious… that… you are… too…?” she replied. She tried looking to the adults for answers—none had any.

“I have decided,” Momonosuke declared. He held Nauja at an arm’s length and put on his most serious face. “Verily! If we survive this and I become shogun, in recognition of your bravery and service to Wano, I shall name you as my intended!”

If the area around them all could have become quiet, it would have.

“What the fuck,” the horned person groaned, snatching Momonosuke up by the collar. “You dragged us all the way over here to propose to your girlfriend?!”

“I’m not his girlfriend!” Nauja snapped, the boy’s words now clicking into place in her brain. “Ask Tama or Toko to marry you, pervy brat!”

“O-Tama is a vassal and it would therefore be inappropriate, as would O-Toko for being my sister’s ward,” Momonosuke stated plainly. “You are the natural choice.”

“Ooooh, Kid’s gonna want t’ hear about this,” a Kid Pirate marveled. A couple of her crewmates nodded sagely in agreement—any ammunition for their captain against the others’.

“This is stupid; Oden out,” the horned person scoffed, stuffing Momonosuke under an arm. By the time Nauja had recovered from the shock of the encounter, the other three members of the Heart Pirates were staring at her with amused expressions that made a chill go down her spine.

“Don’t tell Vaor!” she insisted. “Momo-ya’s just being dumb!”

“Love makes people do dumb things,” Penguin chuckled. Still paying attention to their surroundings, he took his polearm and used it to knock some arrows out of the air. “Look alive! We’re still targets, people!”

Nauja drew her dirk and tried to stay close to the other pirates, attempting to not get too close to any enemies. She really regretted coming along with Tama—so much was happening, everything, all at once, everywhere, and to make matters worse, she was missing the festival! For what?! Her dad being cross with her and Momo being weird? Yeah… this wasn’t one of her most brilliant ideas.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Having popped back down below the battle to regroup, Law and Kid found themselves unfortunately within one another’s company. They were going to have to figure out a way to separate Kaidou and Linlin; the only way those two could have been even more dangerous if they had been actual siblings instead of, well, whatever the fuck they truly were.

“Feck… sounds like the ol’ bird’s down below too,” Kid noted as they ran through the corridors. “Did our dirty work for us.”

“Wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Law grunted. He tried not to think about what had happened before he ran into the Southern redhead again, having been snatched out of the air by a Northern blond, who he repaid in kind by having him watch over the severely injured Wanolese Easterner. Fuck, there was a lot going on. “We need to figure out where our crews are; they’re our support system.”

“No shite, Shirley,” Kid scoffed. He raised his eyebrow, however, at the nearly distracted look on the other man’s face. “Thinking ‘bout some other orders Straw Hat gave yeh?”

“Fuck off,” Law growled. They turned a corner and saw the group that their respective crews had merged into, with Killer already there and helping protect them. “It’s about time… Penguin! Report!”

“No one else has been able to get on Onigashima,” Penguin replied as he parried a blow from a Beast Pirate. He pushed his opponent back and a Kid Pirate took over, slashing their adversary across the stomach. “Sounds like Tama’s here too, working her dango-magic.”

“I figured as much. Based on that, I figure you have her little co-conspirator?”

“I have stabbed a lot of people,” Nauja stated, popping out from behind Penguin. She was splattered in blood, but it was clear it was not her own. “This is way worse than when we show up in a Marine port…”

“Yeh brought yer bairn t’ the battle?!” Kid said, completely flabbergasted. “What the actual fuck, Trafalgar?!”

“Not on purpose, let me assure you,” he replied, marveling at the fact he didn’t have a headache already.

“Och, aye, like I’d believe yeh at this point, yeh bloody fucking twat,” Kid snapped. He then turned to Nauja and gave her a toothy grin. “Ever get tired of the pompous ol’ windbag an’ yeh can come visit wi’ yer Uncle Kid. We know how t’ treat a wee bairnie right.” The little girl giggled, making her father roll his eyes.

“He’s not your uncle; don’t listen to him,” Law deadpanned. “He’s just an idiot whose metal plate in his skull’s gone magnetic.”

“At least I don’t do any of that daft posing shite,” Kid shot back. “Yeh looked like yer at a modeling gig, not fighting for our fucking lives!” He struck a couple poses to prove his point. “At least the Straw Hat knob’s putting in visible effort!”

“Sorry my Devil Fruit requires concentration and finesse!”

“Fucking finesse yersel outwith m’sight, yeh moody-arsed beanpole! Big Mam’s mine, yeh ken?!”

“Are we speaking the same language?!”

“Awww, playin’ the daft laddie, aren’t we? Well, while yer nerd-brain’s so busy tryin’ t’wrap its processes around m’accent, I’m gon’ take t’ bint’s head mysel.”

“As though I’d let you take all the credit after all that shit I had to pull to keep you together!”

“Aye; I bet yeh’d like it all, eh? Took yer turn already, Trafalgar! Now it’s time for the lads’ lads t’shine!”

Just then, a giant spider made of straw crashed onto the scene, with Basil Hawkins sticking out of its back. It roared—somehow—and made it clear it was out for blood.

“A’ll gie him laldie,” Killer said, his voice almost mirthful. “Fucker’s mine.”

“Then let’s split up!” Kid shouted at the rest of his crew. “Pick off some officers!”

“Bepo!” Law saw his navigator’s ears perk up and the Mink took the three steps to join him. “Take Nauja and run. I don’t care where. Just get her someplace quiet.”

“Understood,” Bepo nodded. Before Nauja even had time to protest, he picked her up and ran, dodging Beast Pirates and arrows as he did his best to do what was asked of him.

“Come on, Kid,” Law scowled. “We’ve got an Emperor to distract.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Blood pounded in Law’s skull as he watched Charlotte Linlin grow both in girth and in power. He knew there were some who called his Devil Fruit abilities horrifying—and rightly so—but what was happening before his eyes was down-right chilling. She was tampering with people’s life forces; she was killing them without so much as a drop of consent. It wasn’t just the doctor in him, but his very humanity was sickened.

“All I do is for my family,” she chortled as she continued to bulk up. “My children are heirs to a legacy of greatness. As their mother, it’s my duty to clear a path for them. I’m sure you will understand as I grind your bones into dust.”

“Classy,” Law replied, rolling his eyes.

“Yer eldest is fifty, yeh dusty ol’ bint,” Kid scoffed. “That’s more than time t’ stop relying on mam to fix yer problems.”

“Say a pair of brats who don’t know a mother’s touch,” Linlin smirked. “I still have some daughters I could marry you to if you decide to do the smart thing and submit. I’ll teach you a little something about filial piety.”

“Fuck that,” Kid spat. “That shite got m’crew and me nowhere! All we got, we took oursel!”

“…and you, Trafalgar?” Her voice rumbled with power, echoed with the cries of all the souls she ripped from their hosts. “Do you wish to become Mama’s new favorite?”

“My parents never played favorites—that’s part of what made them good at parenting,” Law fired back. Kid let out a snort—fuck this was the good shit. “Besides, I wouldn’t use my daughter’s wedding as a bargaining chip. She’s too headstrong for such a thing, even if I was that shitty of a parent.”

“Roast t’ hag!” Kid cheered amongst the gasps and marveling. “Gie ‘er good!”

“What would you know about being a parent?” Linlin sneered at Law. “My intel does say you have a bratty little tag-along these days. That’s not a daughter; that’s a charity-case. What sort of pirates resort to charity, I wonder?”

“If being a father is charity, then I wonder what your children think of their fathers? What your sons think of their children.” Law drew his sword and widened his stance slightly. “I know more about being a father, being a parent, than you can ever fathom.”

“You really think she’s yours, you delusional boy?”

“More mine than whatever caused your multiple uterine prolapses are to you.”

Kid was fucking cackling.

“Have it your way,” Linlin hissed. “Napoleon! Prometheus! Hera! Let’s finish these upstarts.”

Law brought up a Room and Kid cracked his knuckles and neck. Now they were talking.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a while for Bepo to finally find a corridor that was relatively quiet before he felt safe enough to put Nauja down. Surprised that there was even a place still calm within Onigashima, he searched for a storage room before ushering in his littlest crewmate and closing the door behind them.

“You alright?” he asked. She nodded. “Good, now let’s figure out what we’re going to do from here.” He peeked out into the corridor to double-check and breathed a sigh of relief—no one.

“What’s gonna happen if Vaor can’t stop them?” Nauja wondered. She looked around the room in a panic, seeing that it was empty aside from some low tables, boxes, and stacks of Wanolese seating cushions.

“This place crashes into the Flower Capitol and we would have to get back to the Tang fast as we can,” Bepo replied. He looked back at Nauja and saw that she was shaking as she tried to not cry, likely overloaded by everything and regretting having come along. She was so different from the first time he saw her—a pair of curious eyes poking out from behind smears of dirt and matted hair—and it only showed him how far she’d come with them… with Law. “Listen: nothing bad’s going to happen, okay? We’ve got this.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” chuckled a low voice. The Mink scooped the child up into his arms and held her close. “Cute… as though either of you are anything other than a liability…”

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not getting to us that easily,” Bepo announced. He put his back to the wall and tried to sniff out the other person in the room and couldn’t; the smells from elsewhere in the complex were still too strong.

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… little brother…”

A figure stepped out from behind some cushion stacks and both Bepo and Nauja gasped. There, standing before them as though everything was completely normal, was Zepo.

“You’re dead!” Nauja declared, pointing at the other Mink.

“How would you know?” Mystery Zepo chuckled. “What would a Lesser Mink cub know about me?”

“Enough to know you’re not real!” She looked at Bepo, who seemed completely at a loss for what to do. “Come on! We need to get out of here!”

“I… I…” Bepo breathed, his brain sputtering out. “Was Fred wrong…?”

“He can be,” Mystery Zepo replied. A large explosion rumbled from elsewhere in the castle.

“No, he’s the one lying! That’s proof!” Nauja wiggled from Bepo’s grasp and tried to shake him out of it. “Bepo-ya…!”

“…but… how can he be here…?”

“Shoot…” The small child looked around and tried to figure out what she could do to snap Bepo out of whatever it was that was keeping him from knowing that this wasn’t real. Was it a Devil Fruit? A robot? A really good imposter? She needed to figure it out, and quick.

“You’re going to let me take care of the cub,” Mystery Zepo said. He began to step forward towards the pirates, sending a chill down Nauja’s spine.

“Bepo-ya! It’s a trap!”

“Of all the people in this place, don’t you want to trust your brother?”

“Don’t listen to him!” Nauja could see that there were tears forming in the Mink’s eyes as he trembled against the wall. “I don’t know who he is, but he’s trying to trick us!”

“Why would I trick my brother?” Mystery Zepo asked.

“Your brothers are Vaor and Penguin-ya and Shachi-ya!”

It was no use—Bepo was absolutely frozen in indecision. Nauja knew she had to do something, or else they were going to fall victim to… whatever it was that mimicking the long-dead Mink.

“Bepo-ya! Look at the moon!” she shouted, running to the shut balcony door. She struggled to pull the frame open. “Look at the moon and let’s get out of here!”

Just as she was able to force the frame open, the Mystery Zepo was there next to her, having appeared in nearly an instant. He took a knife from his belt and glared at Nauja, sunglasses glinting in the moonlight.

“This is not your place,” he hissed. “Don’t you da—”

Mystery Zepo was cut off, a giant paw reaching around his skull and crushing it. Electric sparks frizzed from his body as the illusion tech broke, revealing a faceless robot in its place. Bepo, in full Sulong, casually tossed the contraption to the side and straight through the wall.

“Nothing hurts the captain’s daughter,” Bepo growled, voice low and gravelly. Nauja carefully went over to the now-ruined wall and looked at the robot, taking careful note of the markings along the side.

“PUNK…?” she wondered aloud, tilting her head. “Why’s it got the word PUNK painted on it?”

“I don’t want to hang around long enough to find out,” Bepo replied as another explosion made the building quake. He muttered a low apology as he swept her up into one paw and burst through the outer wall of the storage room, bringing them into the open air. Despite there being no change to the color, his fur was now longer and fiery, and his face more fierce.

He roared at the moon in mid-air, cursing and thanking it in one long, rumbling note that crackled in Electro.

If he ever found the people who tried to trick him with his brother’s face, he was going to rip them apart.

“Hang on, Nauja!” he boomed. She held on tight as he brought them to the ground around the palace, the clouds closing up once again once his paws were on the dirt and he shrank back to his normal size. He shuddered and coughed up some blood—one of the benefits of an underwater ship was being able to avoid Sulong and the effects therein.

“VAOR!” Nauja screeched as she saw the flames that were engulfing the castle. Bepo grabbed her and secured her against his chest—she wasn’t going anywhere.

“We have to stay out here!” he insisted. “I can’t let you burn!”

“…but Vaor…!”

“…wants you to live!” Bepo exclaimed. “Everything he does, everything the crew does, is so that you can live!”

Nauja went limp at that, knowing that he was both right and correct. Guilt settled on her, knowing that her actions, her presence was what drove Law and the crew to do a lot of what they did, and it hurt more than she could comprehend. Bepo let go and placed her on the ground, a paw resting supportively on her shoulder.

“All we want is a future you can look forward to,” he said.

“…but… why…?” Her voice cracked as tears began to choke her. “I’m just some kid you found…”

“You’re Law’s kid, the crew’s kid…” He licked her temple gently. “We love you.��

“…but… why…?” she repeated. “What did I do to deserve it…?”

Bepo stared at Nauja, completely flabbergasted. “Nauja… you didn’t need to do anything.”

“…but I’m nothing but trouble!” she cried. “If it wasn’t for me coming along, you’d…!”

“Don’t think that way!” Bepo held Nauja’s face in his paws and made her look directly at him. “There’s no reason for us to love! We just do! Why else would we let you stay? Why else would we take care of you? Why else would the Captain adopt you as his own daughter?” He saw the tears and snot running down her face and tried to wipe it off with his sleeve. “We knew what bringing a kid into the crew meant… we wanted to love you. There doesn’t have to be a reason other than that.”

“…even though I do stupid stuff…?”

“Kids do stupid stuff all the time—it’s how they learn.” He saw she was biting her lower lip in an effort to stop crying, it not really working. “The rest of the crew does stupid stuff all the time too, and they’re adults, so I don’t know why a few mistakes is such a big deal.” He licked her forehead again. “Sorry, but you’re stuck with us.”

Nauja nodded weakly and hugged Bepo, letting the Mink comfort her as they remained hidden in their spot outside the castle. The muffled sounds of war punctuated their embrace; both were drawing strength from the other, the aftereffects of the raid and their conversation completely wiping them.

Just then, a curious smell reached Bepo’s nose, then a noise that was definitely not fire.

“Is… is that seawater…?” he marveled. He and Nauja looked at the castle and saw that there was water and smoke coming out of the building—something was extinguishing the flames.

“Vaor!” Nauja gasped. She broke from Bepo and began to run towards the castle. She made her way past water-logged Beast Pirates and samurai, Bepo tailing close behind, as she searched for Law. By the time she found him, he was laying down in a pile of debris, eyes closed as he breathed heavily.

“Dinna worry; he ain’t dead,” Kid groaned as he caught sight of the child. He was laying in his own pile of debris, though had his eyes open. “The ol’ bat kicked our arses, but we got her in the end.” He gestured towards a nearby hole in the floor, presumably where Big Mom went.

“Vaor…?” Nauja knelt down beside him and put her hands on his chest, shaking him. “Are you alright…?”

“Ja, famke,” he groaned. Law struggled to lift his hand, reaching out towards Nauja. He was able to find her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb as he opened his eyes. “I’ll be alright. That was just…”

“…a lot…?”

“Yeah… it was a lot.” He offered her a wan smile, which she took as permission to hug him, clinging desperately as he rested his hand against her back. “Ball’s in your court, Strawhat-ya.”

Almost as if Luffy heard him, a gleeful shishishi reverberated throughout the castle.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After having the sheer audacity to to return to the fray on the back of a dragon, Luffy turned into Nika to no-sell Kaidou.

Fucking hell… Monkey D. Luffy became Nika, the legendary sun god and liberator of peoples from times ancient and immemorial, while Law had a time with the hag that just wouldn’t die? And the “help” he had gotten from Kid? Had to almost carry the moron while he was staggering about and yet Strawhat-ya turned into a literal god.

Now wasn’t that some straight-up peak protagonist-level shit right there?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The aftermath of the raid on Onigashima was, fortunately, plenty less complicated than was feared. With Kaidou and Big Mom done for (Law did not want to say they were dead, as he knew he needed a corpse to do that), the Beast and Big Mom Pirates scattered like ants after a good threatening from Yamato. Orochi actually was dead, confirmed by Hiyori and Denjiro, who were there as he spoke his final words before being consumed by flames. The royal siblings were reunited and Oden’s long-lost heir proclaimed himself shogun.

Wano was free.

Oh, the celebrations that were had! Those who had been in the Flower Capitol wept in joy and relief, knowing that they had nearly become victim to a misplaced Onigashima. Parties broke out throughout the lands, bolstered by food sent from the unpolluted farms. Talk of the old ways now flowed freely, bringing with it reminisces of a society—while not perfect—was still defined by full bellies and factory work not being a death sentence. Many of the Alliance members were met with cheers and grateful platitudes, much to their derision. Pirates were not heroes, after all, and honestly had been in it for their own reasons. Whether itching for a fight or wanting information, they were not the ones that Wano should have been heaping their praises on.

Despite this, while members of the victorious forces recovered, there was a heightened sense of wonder and gratitude in the air. Adults took their first clean drink of water since childhood alongside their own children, festival stalls did not close up, and people smiled in the streets at whomever crossed their paths. It was even evident that the inhabitants of Ebisu were genuinely happy, as there was something about their demeanor that was simply right. All were thankful, even as they cleaned up the messes that had been left behind in the fighting.

Meanwhile, invitation had been extended to all the members of the Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance to stay within the royal palace while things were settling down. Although Law would have rather started living in the dockyards in Tokage, he subjected himself to the Flower Capitol for a while longer as he put aside Nauja’s impending punishment and allowed her to remain with her new friends. He had taken to wandering around the palace while they were at play, doing exactly the sort of thing he knew his daughter couldn’t whilst aboard a submarine full of adults.

“Vaor! Vaor! Vaor! Look at this!” Having been examining a frieze in a quiet corridor, Law glanced over to see Nauja with Tama and Toko, the three girls striking a set of poses out of Sora, Warrior of the Sea, with the pink-haired girl in the middle with her arms up and arched, while the older two stood on either side of her, hiding their faces in the crooks of one arm while their other pointed up and towards each other at an angle, nearly touching in a point.

“Teaching them about Sora, I see?” he chuckled. “How does he compare to Wanolese stories?”

“O-Ja tells us tales of this warrior, and he seems mighty!” Tama gasped dreamily. “I wonder if he ever gets sent to the New World…?”

“Well, I like Poison Pink!” Toko giggled. “She’s really cool! And her hair’s like mine! I can wear her costume!”

“Maybe when you’re a bit older,” Law replied. Shit… he hoped the kids saw the earlier versions of the Germa 66 costumes and not the ones that looked more like the real deal. There was no way he was getting blamed for a Wanolese child wanting a neckline that passed her navel. A distraction, a distraction… “Say, how about the four of us head down to the festival before it gets too crowded?”

All three girls’ eyes became large and round—perfect.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Okay, so maybe being a chaperone to three energetic children wasn’t the smartest move after all. The trio were excitable and bouncy and not only chattered like chipmunks on uppers, but moved as such too. Between that and the fact that he was out in public, it made Law tired just existing, which wasn’t a very good look if he was perfectly honest. An even worse look would have been opening a Room just to keep tabs on them—he only had two eyes and there was three of them.

Then again… this must have been how his parents felt when they were taking him and his sister to festivals, wasn’t it?

Still attempting an aloof aura, Law smiled inwardly as he watched the girls rush from stall to stall; Nauja had friends and that was irreplaceable. They bounced and giggled and acted like normal children, making him wonder if any of them had ever been this way before… if that luxury had been afforded them. At least he knew more days like this were ahead of them… ahead of him…

“Oh, what’s that…?” Nauja asked, pointing at a stall. People were standing in front of it and lighting incense, a sight that made her tilt her head in curiosity.

“That’s some leftover incense from the Fire Festival,” Toko said. “Haven’t you ever seen any?”

“They don’t have it where we’re from,” Nauja replied. “What does it do?”

“You light it as an offering to people who’ve died,” Tama explained. “I light some for my mom and dad every once in a while. Some people say you can talk with their spirits that way.”

“Like… tell them you’re doing alright…?”

“Yeah! Do you want to light some for your mom?”

Panic seized Nauja as she came at a crossroads. What was she going to tell her friends…?

“Ahahaha! O-Tama, some people don’t have moms!” Toko laughed. “I don’t! I only had a dad too!”

“…but you have Hiyori-sama!”

“She’s more like my sister!” Toko then turned to Nauja and grinned, tilting her head to the side. “Do you have anyone you’d like to light incense for?”

“Well… um…” Nauja glanced back at Law, who nodded in permission. “My grandparents… and my aunt. I never met them, but I want to say hello… let them know my dad’s taking good care of me.”

“Then that’s perfect!” Tama gasped excitedly. She and Toko pulled their friend to the stall, their chaperone hanging back. “Three sticks, please!”

“All three of you girls are going to light one?” the stallkeeper asked, trying not to chuckle.

“O-Ja never has and we need to show her how!” Toko said cheerily.

The stallkeeper nodded at that and set out three sets of incense. Each girl got a wooden skewer, which they lit with the flame of a lantern. Nauja watched as her friends transferred the flame to the ends of the incense, which she copied, and snuffed the remaining flame on the skewer in some provided sand. She placed her hands together and closed her eyes in imitation and tried to think.

‘Uh… hi Oma, Opa, Tante Lami, Cora-jiisan… I don’t really know if this is going to work, but I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Nauja and I’m your granddaughter… or niece, in Tante Lami’s case. Law-san is my dad now, and although I’m not related to any of you by blood, I’ve heard stories about you that makes it feel like that doesn’t matter. Vaor and the crew love me and protect me and take care of me, and that’s more than I’ve ever had before. Thank you for making him so kind. Even when he’s sad, he is kind, and I know you all did that.’

She peeked at the incense sticks—only halfway.

‘Well, I know about you, so I guess you should know about me! I’m almost eight years old, I love reading Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and drawing! I want to become a doctor, like Opa and Oma were and like Vaor is now! I love drawing things like how they are in the textbooks! Clione-ya calls it “hyper-realism”. Oh, yeah, and we live on a pirate ship! It can go under the water! Vaor’s crew is made up of some of the kindest pirates out there. I know, I know, there shouldn’t be such a thing as kind pirates, but there are. All they want is to be free. There are other crews like that we’ve been meeting, and I really like it a lot!We’re good friends with so many other kind pirates and that makes our crew seem not so weird!’

Another peek—nearly done.

‘Okay, the incense is almost done! I know we’ve never met, but I love you! Thank you! Bye for now!’

Opening her eyes and letting her hands fall to their sides, Nauja watched the incense as it fizzled out. It was kind of stinky, but it was a good sort of stinky, she guessed.

“Did you girls have a good chat?” the stallkeeper asked as Toko and Tama also opened their eyes. “I’m sure whomever you were talking to loved the attention.”

“I’m sure they did as well,” Law said. It was barely there, but Nauja could hear his voice crack slightly. “Now let’s hurry back—you don’t want to miss the fireworks, do you?”

The three girls gasped—no they did not!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

With stray mochi wrappers and broken konpeito littering the balcony, Nauja watched as the fireworks reached their grand crescendo. Tonight she and her friends were watching with Zoro-ya, Hiyori-ya, and Sanji-ya, with each child snuggled into an adult. Toko-ya was already snoring against Hiyori-ya and Tama-ya was beginning to falter in her perch on Zoro-ya’s lap; only Nauja was really awake of the three.

“I believe it’s high time we put these little ones to bed,” Hiyori-ya said sweetly as the last bit of glitter faded into the sky and smoke. Zoro-ya grunted something and stood, hauling Tama-ya up with one meaty arm and accepting Toko-ya with the other. “Did you wish to join them, Lady Trafalgar?”

“No, I should clean up here,” Nauja said, leaning out of Sanji-ya’s grasp and grabbing at some of the wrappers. “I promised I’d sleep with the Hearts tonight anyhow.”

“Suit yourself,” Zoro-ya shrugged. Hiyori-ya followed him inside, with Sanji-ya’s eyes trailing behind them in a way that Nauja couldn’t tell who he was looking at. He then turned his attention back to Nauja, taking care to stub out his cigarette before moving to help her.

“You’re such a hard-working kid,” he noted. “Does Trafalgar work you that hard with chores?”

“Technically, I’m still in trouble,” she reminded him. He nodded, knowing that she was talking about sneaking onto Onigashima. “Most of my actual punishment is gonna come after we leave Wano—I won’t get any sweets or be allowed to do anything but study or train for a while after this.” She saw that he had a curled eyebrow raised in question. “It’s… more than fair.”

“You’re a pretty neat kid, Nauja-chan,” Sanji-ya chuckled. “I mean, you were brave enough to go to begin with.”

“It’s not bravery if you go in not thinking about how bad it could be,” Nauja muttered. “All I wanted was to be with Vaor.”

“Still… not everyone can figure out who I am without me giving more facts,” he replied. “You had me sweating on Zou when you mentioned my eyebrow. No one had made the connection until then.”

“Then everyone’s stupid,” she scoffed. Sanji-ya snorted at that, which in turn made Nauja grin. They finished putting all the wrappers in a bag and left the spoiled konpeito shards for birds before heading inside. Zoro-ya and Hiyori-ya met them in the corridor, the other two adults now free of Tama-ya and Toko-ya.

“You coming?” Zoro-ya asked. Sanji-ya swallowed hard and glanced at Nauja: the final obstacle.

“I can find my dad on my own,” Nauja said frankly before walking away. She heard a door to one of the rooms slide open and shut as she made her way down the corridor, not wanting to alert her adults to the fact she knew what possibly might be going on.

The palace was quiet as Nauja padded her way through the corridors and staircases looking for her dad, the only other ones active being the staff. He was not in the large bedroom where most of the rest of the Hearts were already asleep on the giant mega-futon they made by pushing a bunch of singles together. Nor, she noticed, was he in any of the banquet halls and receiving rooms, where he had been apt to sulking in the past few days. The only ones she could find were the members of the Hearts who were off cavorting with pretty maids or the handsome footman, making her wrinkle her nose in irritation… some use they were being…

Wait! There he was! Nauja found a staircase that led down into a room that had dozens upon dozens of wooden dolls. A blue Poneglyph sat in it, whispering to her tales of Wano’s past. Ignoring it for the time being, she went down what looked like another staircase set into the floor, continuing to descend deeper and further into the rock below.

“Who is this joining us?” As Nauja’s eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that Tengu-ya was standing there without his mask, leading her Vaor and Nico-ya down below the surface. “Ah, another intrepid explorer for our group.”

“If the fireworks are over, you should be headed to bed,” Vaor said sternly. Nauja shook her head instead and grabbed hold of his coat.

“I wanted to stay with you,” she reasoned. Nico-ya giggled quietly, while Tengu-ya simply gestured to an opening in the wall where a dim light shone.

“I think there is something here that you all might wish to see,” he said. Nico-ya and Nauja proceeded to crawl in through the hole, while Vaor placed himself at the end with his Devil Fruit ability.

There, beyond a pane of clear glass, was an underwater Wano shimmering in the moonlight.

“That is Old Wano,” Tengu-ya explained. “Our nation used to be much bigger, but when the country was sealed off it was done so literally, and the rainwater had nowhere to go. The buildings you see are probably around eight hundred years old. It is good that the sky is so clear tonight, or else it would be impossible to see except for in the daytime.”

“Wow…” Nauja marveled. “Does that mean there’s even older stuff further down?”

“There is,” Tengu-ya said. The girl slid out from the opening and rushed down the staircase, the clack-clack-clack of her geta echoing against the stone-hewn walls. Once at the bottom, she gasped in wonder at what she saw in the pale moonlight filtered in past waves and glass.

There, telling her its secrets, was a red Lode Poneglyph.

“Vaor!” she squeaked. “Oh, seas, Vaor!” Nauja ran up to the fence that surrounded the stone and jumped up and down excitedly. When Tengu-ya brought Vaor and Nico-ya to the chamber, both were nearly at a loss for words.

“It’s really here,” Nico-ya marveled. She tilted her head in confusion as she watched Nauja stare at the Poneglyph in wonder. “What do you know about these, Nauja-chan?”

“It’s singing!” the girl replied cheerily. All three adults blanched. “The blue stone that was on Onigashima and the one upstairs were just whispering, but this one is singing! I can hear it clearly!”

“How can you do this?!” Nico-ya gasped. She grabbed Nauja by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, scared beyond her mind. “If this is a game, Nauja-chan, you need to tell me, now.”

“She’s been showing signs for a while,” Vaor replied, his tone calm and serious. “It’s the Voice of All Things—I think she can hear it. She did on Onigashima.”

“That legend…?” Tengu-ya questioned. He then scoffed. “Then again, look at all here that otherwise lives in folklore and whispers…”

“Why is that such a bad thing?” Nauja asked. “It’s just something I can do… it doesn’t hurt anything, right?”

“It might not to you or to the rest of us, but this means that you understand this,” Nico-ya said. She pointed at the Poneglyph, which seemed to buzz in joy. “Never tell anyone outside this room you can hear those. Do you understand?”

Nauja nodded.

“It’s like my full name: we have to hide it from the world,” Vaor added. “Never be ashamed of it, but you have to know that if a bad person discovers you can hear what these things have to say, then our travels might become more dangerous than they need to be.”

“A secret name?” Tengu-ya mused.

“You may know, as payment for this,” Vaor said, gesturing at the Poneglyph. “My name in-full is Trafalgar D. Water Law. My parents died before they could pass on the knowledge of its meaning upon my coming-of-age.”

“So you wish to search for the meaning behind the Will of D., hmm…?” Tengu-ya asked. Vaor nodded. “Then you must take care… as though this old man needs to tell you that. There is nothing of the Will in what has been passed down in the shogunate, but I believe it is something you might be able to find an answer for at the End.” He then stared at the younger man, intensely curious. “Where are you from? I was one of the few with access to newspapers, even after my escape, so I might know of it.”

Vaor hesitated. “Flevance, in the North.”

“Ah—then how fortunate that the son that survived bears such a name, and that he might be one of the heroes that graced this country.”

“We’re no heroes, and we are far from saints,” Vaor stated. “We are pirates—our goals merely aligned.”

“Hmm… strooth… however, it does not change what you have done, nor will it change the meaning behind your name.” Tengu-ya went to Nico-ya and Nauja, putting a hand atop the little girl’s head. “Now, my child, can you tell me what it is this lovely stone sings of?”

She recited it perfectly.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the late following day and Law was returning to the Flower Capitol after having visited the dock at Tokage Port where the Polar Tang was now sitting. Ikkaku and some of the more mechanically-inclined members of the Hearts, along with Robo-ya and Nose-ya, were working on making some additional upgrades to the ship, some that put him at-ease and others that were… questionable at-best. He made it back to the palace before it was time for dinner, the festivities still going strong. How long did a festival need to be, anyhow? A quick check on Nauja—she was reading some Sora books to Tama and Toko, who presumably could not read common script, given their expressions—and he decided it was time for a bit of wandering before dinner.

…or else he would have, had Shachi and Penguin not cornered him.

“So…ooo… Cap…tain…” Penguin said, drawing out the words. “We hear the Head Brat in Charge is looking for ya; has all day.”

“I am not beholden to Momo-ya now that he’s shogun,” Law frowned.

“It’s about Nauja,” Shachi said. Law blinked at that.

“Is she still beating him up?”

Shachi grimaced slightly, making a tsk noise as his lips parted. “No… more like… I think you need to get changed into something more appropriate.”

“What about my clothes is inappropriate?” Law threatened. He was wearing a button-down shirt, jeans, and boots, with his usual hat and his feather-trimmed coat draped over his shoulders. Just because he wasn’t still in Wanolese garb didn’t make him look inappropriate…

“Nothing normally,” Penguin said, “but come on, let’s go; Bep’s getting Momo for us.”

“I don’t like this,” Law stated as his two officers dragged him through the corridor, one on each arm. They got him to the room the lot of them had been sharing before most of the crew left for Tokage and wrestled him back into his yukata… the one he could have sworn he left on the Tang. “You two better explain yourselves, and quickly.”

“It’s probably better we don’t,” Shachi claimed. He and Penguin then pulled him along again, bringing their captain to a small meeting room where Bepo was waiting nervously out in the corridor.

“Oooh, ready…?!”

“Bepo…” Law warned. The polar bear mumbled an apology and quickly slid open the door, allowing Penguin and Shachi to literally shove him in. By the time he regained his footing, the door was traitorously shut behind him.

“Lord Trafalgar, there you are.” Law’s attention snapped towards the voice and saw that it was Momonosuke; he was still not used to the deeper timbre of his older self. “Please, have a seat.”

Law raised his eyebrow; they were the only two in the room, the young shogun already sitting seiza on a cushion while an empty one sat across from him. He complied, sitting in the Wanolese fashion in hopes that this wouldn’t take long, placing Kikoku down at his side.

“Mind telling me what this is about?” Law asked, getting directly to the point. Momonosuke swallowed hard.

“It… it’s about your daughter… the Lady Trafalgar…”

“You know you don’t have to refer to us by titles we don’t have,” Law stated, pinching the bridge of his nose. Wano was so nauseatingly extra he could barely stand it. “What did Nauja do?”

“Uh… nothing… I…”

“She and I, as well as my officers, are staying here at your request, in order to not break up the friendship she has with Tama-ya and Toko-ya while we can,” he explained. “If she has done something that needs addressing, then I shall address it as her father.”

“You see, that’s it! She hasn’t done anything!” Momonosuke gasped. Law narrowed his eyes. “It’s just that, since I’ve become shogun, I’ve been made to think of the future!”

“We’re setting sail soon; I don’t expect to return any time in said near future,” Law said. “I know Tama-ya and Toko-ya are fond of Nauja, but they’ll have to make do with letters.”

“Then… will you come back? In, say, fifteen years?”

“Why fifteen?”

“We shall be the year we both become twenty-three years of age; verily, I seek your permission to wed Lady Trafalgar upon such an auspicious reunion.” Momonosuke bowed deeply, his hair hiding his face as his nose nearly touched the tatami mat. “She is a hero to the nation, and no doubt shall become a fine woman. It would be an honor to have her as a bride.”

Of all the fucking…

“You know you’re older than me now, right?” Law mentioned, voice sharply deadpan. “You know… the man who is her father…?”

“I am eight years of age!”

“You are twenty-eight goddamned years old,” Law said firmly. “In fifteen years you will not be twenty-three, but forty-three. Furthermore, I am not the person whose permission you would need in order to marry her.”

“…then whose would it be…?”

“Nauja’s!” As a pirate and a medical professional, he had heard plenty of absurd things in his life, but this conversation was quickly ratcheting itself towards the top of the list. “She’s not some thing to treat as a token! It’s not my job to barter her away!”

“…but, I…!”

“…and what the actual fuck makes you think that, even if you were still an eight-year-old brat today, that she would want to get married to you in fifteen years?!”

“Her fortitude and dedication to this country’s freedom makes her an excellent candidate to be a shogun’s wife!” Momonosuke cried. Fuck… Law really still was bullying a kid, wasn’t he? “Her character is precisely the sort of thing that this country needs at my side, that I want to see in my own children some day!”

“This conversation is over,” Law decided. He picked up Kikoku and stood, trying to flex impending numbness from his calf muscles. “If I ever hear that you’ve come within fifty feet of my daughter without my presence, you shall learn precisely why they refer to me as the Surgeon of Death on my bounty posters. Do I make myself clear?”

“Uhh…”

“Then let me make it clearer: I don’t care that you leapt through time and this,” he gestured at all of Momonosuke, “is because of a Devil Fruit. I don’t care that when I met you a few months ago, you were still a literal child. I don’t even care that you are Shogun of Wano and Strawhat-ya’s new idkbff. Come near my daughter again and I will make you wish I killed you.”

“…o…okay…”

Law slammed open the door, finding that all three of his officers were there, as well as Hiyori, the princess looking rather irritated while the pirates all jumped at the sight of their captain.

“I told him it was a horrid idea,” Hiyori said, composure calm as only a vindicated younger sibling could pull off. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi, however, were frightened into silence.

“How long have you known about this?” Law glared.

“Ju-just when we were s-sent to g-g-get you…” Penguin lied. Law turned his amber eyes towards the weakest link: Bepo.

“Onigashima!” The bear cracked instantly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! We should have told you sooner, but it was low priority since we kind of had other things on our mind!”

“It was the middle of the battle!” Shachi added. “He was still a kid then! We thought it was cute!”

“Didn’t you ever propose to a girl when you were a kid?” Penguin asked, trying to brush it off. “I mean… that’s just what boys do when they find a girl that doesn’t put up with their shit…”

Completely done, Law turned on his heel and went back to change his clothes. Once he was in actual pants again, he found where Nauja was, with her and her friends trying to act out a scene from Sora.

“Alright girls,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Sleepover at the Tang. Grab your stuff. Come on, this means all of you.”

“Oh, do you think Jean Bart will bake us cookies?!” Nauja gasped.

“Wait…” Toko stared at her friend, smile still wide, but the tiniest hint of confusion in her voice. “What is this ‘sleepover’ your father speaks of, O-Ja?”

“It’s when friends all stay the night over at someone’s house!” Nauja explained. “Well, if submarine ships count as houses!”

“So… this has been a sleepover this whole time…?” Tama asked, looking around the room. That’s right—none of them really lived there.

“Yup, and now I’m returning the favor; chop chop,” Law said. The girls cheered and began to gather the stuff they would need to head back to the Polar Tang. Once he was able to corral them out into the corridor, they ran into Hiyori again, the woman giving him a knowing smirk.

“Hiyori-sama, we’re going to have a sleepover with O-Ja!” Toko grinned. “Isn’t that neat?!”

“It is,” she agreed. She then turned her attention to Law—they really had seen a lot for their age, hadn’t they? “I shall set my brother straight. He has a lot to learn.”

“A lot to learn about what, Hiyori-ya?” Nauja asked.

“Never you mind,” Law said. He took the bag that had Tama and Toko’s things and waved the girls off. “Make sure everything’s in your backpack before we go—I don’t know when we’re coming back.”

“Okay!” The three girls rushed down the corridor towards the Hearts’ room, leaving the two adults.

“Don’t fret, Lord Trafalgar,” Hiyori assured. “By the time you return to these shores, my lord brother will have long-forgotten all about his childhood crush. She’ll be safe.”

“I hope so,” he frowned, staring down the corridor. She giggled at that, catching his attention. “What…?”

“Sir Denjiro looks at me that way when I’m being particularly troublesome,” she admitted. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ll never stop worrying, you know.”

“I know.”

“One day, she will thank you, and it shall be about everything you’ve never told her about… this included.”

He nodded and inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. “I know.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was well after nightfall and the dockyard was still bustling with activity. Several bonfires were lit to help with light, though they also served as gathering places for the varying pirates and shipwrights that were not currently working. One pirate in particular was utilizing the atmosphere to take to storytelling, with three pajama-clad children sitting rapt in front of him.

“Aye, so there we was, staring down this absolute unit of a granny; bigger than the whale that guards the entrance t’ the Grand Line!” Kid watched as the girls giggled at him, all three amused by his tale. “She tried t’ gie us t’ join her, but that would’ve involved marrying some kid of hers and that bloody fucking bunch of reprobates? Aye, right, I dinna ken a worse fate than being tied to one o’ them.”

“Don’t swear like that around them,” Law scowled in disapproval from his reading spot on the other side of the fire. Kid scowled right back and gave a venomless two-fingered salute.

“Yer lads cuss.”

“My lads can speak without anyone feeling like they need a dictionary.”

“Where the fun in that?” Kid then noticed Toko let out a yawn, the pink-haired girl being the first to flag. “Oi, Trafalgar, I think the bairnies here need a wee kip.”

“Is that right now?” Law asked. “Time for bed already?” Nauja, Tama, and Toko all shook their heads in a panic.

“NO!” they all chimed in.

“I thought Eustass-ya couldn’t tell you what to do!” Nauja added.

“He can’t tell me what to do, but he is part of the Inter-Seas Association of Semi-Capable Adults and therefore knows when certain children might need their sleep.” He snapped his book shut and placed it in his inner coat pocket before standing. “Now then, say goodnight to Eustass-ya.”

Pouting, the three young friends tackled Kid in a hug, not entirely wanting to leave just yet. He was able to wrap his right arm around them with a chuckle. “I can finish in the morning if yer that interested.”

“We are!” Tama replied. “Even though O-Ja and I were there, we did not see all the events unfold!”

“Yeah, and I was not there at all,” Toko said. She closed her eyes and hummed. “You’re warm.”

“You’ll be warm inside too,” Law said. He plucked Toko from Kid’s grasp and motioned for the other two girls to follow. After exchanging a knowing glance with Kid, Law led Nauja and Tama over to the side of the Polar Tang, opening a Room so he could place them by the top deck’s entrance. They went below, with Nauja leading the way to her bedroom. It had been finished earlier that afternoon, with more shelves, chests to place her things in, and a bunk bed that was sitting over a desk. The older two girls marveled at the changes, while the third was already too asleep to notice.

“Oh, wow!” Nauja gasped. “This is all mine?!”

“That it is,” Law replied. He placed Toko underneath the blankets while Nauja and Tama investigated the rest of the room. “Robo-ya and Nose-ya worked rather hard on it with Ikkaku-ya.”

“I’ll have to thank them in the morning!” Nauja beamed. She hugged Law tightly before climbing up the ladder leading to her bed. “This is so cool! I thought this place was neat before, but now… it’s the best!”

“Did you sleep here before?” Tama asked, following her friend.

“Yeah, but before that I had to sleep with Vaor, because this room was actually storage,” Nauja said. The girls allowed Law to tuck them in as they settled in on either side of Toko, the three fitting snugly. “Ikka-ya put this together for me when it was decided I needed my own room.”

“That’s neat…”

“Good night, girls,” Law said. “If you need me, I’m at the end of the corridor, to the right.”

“Good night,” Nauja and Tama echoed back at him. Law then turned out the lights and switched on the nightlight—the star-filled, mid-ocean sky illuminated the ceiling, garnering a couple little gasps before he closed the door.

Nodding, Law went over to the kitchen and made himself some coffee first before heading into his cabin. There, he sat up with his mug of liquid life and a medical tome he had acquired from the Flower Capitol, reading it to see what sorts of things Wanolese medicine did the same and different compared to others. It was a surprisingly engaging read, making it so that he almost flew through the first half of the book on only the one mug of coffee. As he put the mug down after draining it, the photos secured to the wall caught his eye. He had recently added some more of Nauja, snail-captured images of her having fun with him and the crew surrounding the ones he had of his parents, sister, and Cora-san.

“You’d be proud,” he whispered in the silence. “I’m gonna figure out this mystery myself, so I can give my daughter our true identity. I’ll teach her everything, and then she’ll do us proud.”

The photos simply smiled back.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When it was finally time for the Polar Tang to depart, it was difficult separating Nauja from Tama and Toko. The three girls sobbed at the prospect of not being together again for a long time, with some of the Wanolese well-wishers that had gathered needing to hold the girls back. Even Momonosuke was there, wailing about not wanting Strawhat-ya to leave, though in reality, it was the same deal.

They would come back again, one day. It was a promise between friends.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

They were nearly at the next island when they ran into trouble again.

“Captain, uh, we’ve got a problem,” Hakugan stated, peering through the periscope. He, Law, and Bepo were in the navigation room, with the captain sitting in his chair.

“What is it?”

“It looks like there’s people already on the island…”

“…so…? There are people on most islands.”

“It doesn’t look like it holds a permanent settlement, but there is a small harbor. Some affiliates of Blackbeard are currently docked there.”

“Fuck…” Law’s upper lip curled into a sneer as he contemplated the new information. He didn’t want to risk pissing off anyone who answered directly to one of the Emperors, not if they didn’t have backup. Wano was one thing and this was another. “How close by can you get to the island in order to reset the magnetic field?”

“…for this place? It’s gonna have to be close.” Bepo was checking the Log Pose and comparing it to the map he had unfurled on the dash. “According to the information we got from Zou, this place has a tight reset zone.”

“Alright—down periscope and dive—I want us off their radar soon as possible,” Law stated.

“Aye, aye,” Hakugan nodded. He turned off the periscope and concentrated on a series of dials and switches, which he used to begin prepping the Polar Tang to dive. “Huh…”

“…what…?” Law raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“No… just… I feel kind of funny…” He then grunted suddenly, holding his stomach. “What the…?”

“I feel weird too,” Bepo agreed. “Do you think it might have been those pies Penguin made…?”

“The pies were cooked,” Law sighed, “you’re just being sill—urgh!” A sharp yet pulsing pain hit him in the abdomen as well, causing him to fall out of his chair and collapse on the floor. Something odd coursed through his body, making it feel as though it was changing, much to his chagrin, and they hadn’t even started to dive yet.

“Captain!?” The voice sounded like Bepo, and yet wasn’t. It was too high in pitch. “Captain!? What’s happening?!”

“I don’t know, I…!”

Law paused at the sound of his own voice, something intrinsically off about it. He struggled to his feet and looked over at Bepo, only to see that his navigator was donning a hairstyle close to Fred’s and was gaining a pear-shaped figure. Looking at Hakugan, he saw his helmsman was now sporting a cup size probably larger than Ikkaku’s. He felt his chin and discovered his goatee was no longer there, which caused him to look in the glass of the porthole at his reflection.

After all the years of his father staring back at him in the mirror, it was now his mother’s turn.

“FUCK!” he cursed. “Hakugan, dive, NOW!”

“Captain, what’s going on?!” the helmsman asked, attempting to maneuver to ship fast as he could.

“I don’t know! We’ll figure it out later!” Law turned towards the doorway and saw Shachi standing there with four mugs of coffee in his hands, now staring wide-eyed at the scene.

“What the fu…?”

Suddenly, a rumble shook the Polar Tang, spilling coffee and sending those in the control room into furniture and walls. Shachi in particular landed in Law’s new cleavage, which the captain did not appreciate. By the time he shoved off his crewmate, he was looking at Shachi alright, but a Shachi with the sort of hourglass shapeliness he’d normally be chasing instead of sporting.

“WE’VE BEEN HIT!” Ikkaku’s voice blared over the intercom snail. Sirens started to go off and a deep panic seated itself in Law’s chest.

Nauja.

“TACTICAL MANEUVERS!” Law ordered into the receiver on the dash. “BATTLE STATIONS!”

Once the command was given, Law rushed out of the navigation room and went to the engine room, seeing that Ikkaku was already barking orders, and then the mess hall, where most of the crew still were. A leak had sprung near a join—it was worse than he thought.

“CAPTAIN?!” gasped several crew members. Someone in the back was already infected, with Jean Bart changing into a bearded woman before his eyes.

“Vaor?!” Law’s head snapped towards the sound of Nauja’s voice, seeing that she was running towards him. “What’s going on?!”

“Sorry, but I’m gonna look like Oma and Tante Lami for a bit,” he said quietly. The terror in her face made him sick to his stomach, yet he kept it together as he looked at the rest of the crew and their quickly-transitive state. “What’s the status of that leak?”

“It’s hard to hold! We’re going to take on water sooner than later!”

“Shit!” Law grabbed the intercom snail and hissed into it. “We’ll need to surface!”

“…but Captain…!”

Another blast shook the ship, where transforming people got flung into walls and Nauja clung to Law’s leg.

“Captain… it’s Blackbeard himself! We have a visual!”

No…!

“If we keep going down, the water pressure will crush us!”

“Let’s surface!” Law ordered into the Den Den. “Prepare for battle, and be quick about it!”

“Vaor, what’s happening?!”

“I don’t know, famke,” he frowned. The girl watched as Law finally realized what was going on and used his Haki to bust through the forced gender flip, going back to his normal self. Once he did, the others in the room began to change back as well.

“How the fuck…?” Law whispered. He looked at his hand, then at his crew, as they went through changes at different rates. A sense of dread filled him like nothing he had ever felt before.

They had made it into the ship without so much as boarding.

Blackbeard’s crew had made it on the ship without boarding, and was about to make them surface.

“Shit—Nauja, backpack, now!”

Squeaking in reply, the girl scampered off, dodging crewmates as they ran around the ship, popping back to normal and panicking about the condition of the Polar Tang. She made it to her room and found her Sora backpack, putting in it all the things that she knew she needed: Professor Nanuk, books, photos of the crew and her family, the envelope with money and some Vivre Cards, her dirk, a jacket…

“Nauja, move!” She jumped and looked over at the door; Law was standing there, his arm outstretched and his face stern. He grabbed her soon as her backpack was secured and carried her through the ship.

“Vaor…?! What’s going on…?!”

“I need you to listen to me, Nauja,” he murmured in her ear, voice softer than she expected. “The crew loves you. Can you remember that?”

“…but Vaor…!” She looked around and saw that suddenly they were in the loading bay. “What’s going on?!” He set her down on the floor and knelt before her, ignoring the blaring klaxons and flashing warning lights all around them.

“Repeat what I said,” he demanded, voice shaky. She nodded weakly.

“The crew loves me.”

“I love you.”

“You love me.” She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Vaor… Vader… Dad… please…”

“It’s going to be too dangerous from here on out,” he said. He gently placed her on a chair in a sort of… thing…? She wasn’t sure what, but he strapped her into a harness and kissed her hair and forehead. “Be good, alright? You’re going to grow up to be an amazing person, Trafalgar D. Water Nauja. It’s a shame I won’t get to see it.”

“Vaor…?!”

“I love you, Nauja, with all my Heart.”

Nauja’s eyes went wide as Law hit a button on the wall and the seat turned into a capsule. She screamed for her father as she struggled against the harness, although he couldn’t hear it thanks to the workmanship of the pod. It sank onto a track and another wall slid down between them, a glass panel allowing them to keep eye contact as the capsule settled into place and tears streamed down their faces.

Fly little seagull, he said silently. The world awaits.

The escape pod jettisoned itself, whisking Nauja far away from the current battle. The torpedo chamber filled with water as the contents were all forced out until only air bubbles and the sea remained.

Law set his face and exhaled heavily—it was time to take care of Blackbeard and, if he was lucky, at least his crew would survive this.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nauja stared at the folded Vivre Card in her hand, then up at the building in front of her. Everything her father ever told her came rushing back all at once, as she knew she shouldn’t be there. It was the Marine Headquarters, which was precisely not the place for a pirate to be, even a little one. She was glad she put her boilersuit in her backpack a while ago to blend in with just her t-shirt and shorts—this was going to be leagues more difficult than infiltrating the okiya.

Knowing she wasn’t going to get anywhere with hiding in the wharf, Nauja stepped out into the sunlight and began to walk up to the Marine Headquarters with her head held high. Recruits and minor officers all stared at her, wondering whose kid she was, all the way until an elderly lady with kind eyes stopped her.

“Where are you going, my dear?” she asked. “I think you’re a bit young to be signing up.”

“I’m here to see my grandfather,” Nauja said. She held up the folded Vivre Card and it shuffled on her palm. “My uncle gave this to me because I don’t remember what my grandfather looks like.”

“What is your grandfather’s name? That might help.”

“Uhh… Grandpapa…?”

The woman chuckled; oh, the innocence of children. She then noticed that there was writing on the inside of the Vivre Card. “What’s that?”

“A… erm… a note.”

“For whom?”

“It’s for Grandpapa from Uncle Dorry.”

The elderly lady inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide for just a moment. Nauja began to panic, only for the woman to reach out and grab her arm.

“I know your grandfather; let me take you to him.”

“You… you do…?”

“Yes. I knew your Uncle Dorry before your grandfather knew him.”

A light went on in Nauja’s head—this was the friend that Dinosaur-ya had mentioned. She nodded and let the woman take her hand, bringing her through the maze-like corridors of the Marine Headquarters. She eventually found an office, where there was an elderly man sitting at a desk doing paperwork.

“Tsuru, what’s this?” he wondered, sitting fully upright. He watched as the little girl detached herself from his old comrade’s side and approached him, holding up a Vivre Card. It spun in her hand when she was directly next to him—it was his.

“I think you should read that, Sengoku,” Tsuru suggested. He picked up the Vivre Card and unfolded it, seeing the familiar, distinctive script inside.

‘Please take care of her. Dorry.’

“Where did you get this, child?” Sengoku asked gently. Nauja shuffled in place nervously.

“Your son gave it to me,” she said. “He knows my dad, and we met not too long ago, and he gave me that saying that if I were ever in any trouble Dad couldn’t handle, that I should find you.”

“Did he, now?”

“Yeah; he said something about his brother, and how although they never met, his brother would want me to have this.” The adults both looked at one another, which allowed the girl’s eyes to wander towards the photo frames on the desk. “That’s him! That’s Uncle Dorry!”

“Yes, it is him, isn’t it?” Sengoku nodded. He pulled the photo frame closer, allowing Nauja to see both the portraits clearer. She gasped when she saw the other one in the frame, before it having been shielded by glare from the lights. “What’s the matter?”

“That’s Cora-jiisan!” she realized. Nauja went into her backpack and pulled out an envelope, from which she presented a copy of a photo she last saw on her father’s wall. “He was Dad’s dad! Like how Dad is my dad! Dad needed Cora-jiisan and he took care of him, like how I needed Dad and he took care of me!”

“Is that so…?” Sengoku marveled, looking at the photo. It was something he had never seen before, with his son taking the photo of himself and a sour-looking teen with white patches on his face and in his hair. He wasn’t sure there was a time he had seen that sort of smile on him as an adult, and it made him nearly want to cry.

“Yes! This is Dad and me!” Nauja said. She held out another photo, this one of her and a very familiar-looking pirate. It was the teen from the first photo, no longer sick and now the adult taking the picture. Sengoku stared at the photos side by side, then stared at Tsuru, terrified of what was happening.

“I did not know,” he apologized to the child. “Since I’ve retired from my normal duties, I don’t hear a lot of chatter about who is in what crew these days. That this man has a child is news to me.”

“Dad didn’t really think he was my dad until very recently, but now that his adoptive uncle’s in prison, we’re safe to be a family! Well… kind of…”

“What do you mean by that?” Tsuru asked.

“Well, there’s this big, mean, ugly guy who made his crewmate turn all the guys on the ship into women! After he fixed it, Dad had me get my backpack together and he put me in an escape pod. I… I’ve been going by this ever since.” She tapped the now-still Vivre Card on the desktop. “Now I’m here! Why do you have a picture of Cora-jiisan?”

“He was my son, before your Uncle Dorry came into my life,” Sengoku said. “I found your Cora-jiisan, he found your father, and your father found you. We are family.”

“Then maybe,” Tsuru said, “this is a chance to make things right.”

“Indeed.”

Sengoku stared at the little girl for a moment, wondering what he did to deserve such a sweet and innocent thing as this. He had done so much wrong by his son—by the boy he had taken in without thought of reproach from the Celestial Dragons—and the kid he’d decided to take in. That Flevench boy should have grown up to become a Marine… should have been allowed to do great things, and yet he had squandered it. He, Sengoku, had squandered the future of a young man he’d never met—Trafalgar never truly had any autonomy when it came to this—and now the man’s daughter was here… in his office… in need of a place to be safe and free.

“What is your name? I can’t introduce my adorable little great-granddaughter if I don’t know what her name is.”

“Trafalgar D. Water Nauja,” the girl said firmly, head held high. “My dreams are to become a medical illustrator and get justice for Vaor and the crew and the ship that was our home. Dinosaur-ya—erm—Uncle Dorry said that you can keep me safe while I grow up. Is that true?”

“It is,” Sengoku nodded, “and it shall be. No one, pirate or Marine, will know what hit them.” He brought her into a hug and the girl broke down into sobs. Tears flowed from them both as the finality washed over them, unaware of the note that had been slipped into her backpack, tucked between the pages of a book about a city long-razed, written on the back of a photo taken while neither subject had been paying attention as they read together in the sun.

You shall fly, my little Nauja, and the world shall know your name.

#Trafalgar Law #Trafalgar Nauja #Heart Pirates #One Piece #fan fiction #Penguin (One Piece) #Shachi (One Piece) #Bepo #Straw Hat Pirates #X Drake #ch 1044 spoilers #ch 1063 spoilers #Eustass Kid #I TRIED SO HARD TO REIN HIM AND KILLER IN #but their dialogue still reads like it's out of The Thick of It #because they're just Jamie and Malcolm if Jamie was the boss prove me wrong #Trafalgar D. Water Law #Kurozumi Tama #Shimotsuki Toko #semi spoilers for ch1081 #post the 1313th

[mysticmunson]

best kept secret; eddie munson

prompt: eddie munson is hated by every man in town, but secretly loved by all the ladies, and not just for his large personality.

word count: 3k

warnings: SMUTTTT (go away children), mentions of hands on necks, brief mention of breeding kinks, dumbification, idk what else but just let me know :)

Was this a bad idea? Probably.

No, this was definitely a bad idea, but you weren’t thinking when you showed up at Eddie Munson’s trailer at 11pm, horny and desperate. 

When you appeared at his door, he was shocked to say the least. You had been in school together since elementary, in separate social circles, but you were never mean to him, so you were an acquaintance in his book.

“Uh, hey?” He said, shirtless in just some flannel sleep pants, making your mouth water already. 

“Can I come in?” You asked, his eyebrows raising but letting you in, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater. 

“Not to be a dick, but why are you here?”

The question was valid on his end, but to you it made total sense. Eddie Munson just happened to be Hawkins best kept secret amongst women, he was known to be killer in the bedroom. While most girls at school would turn their nose in public, some did the same thing you hoped for, losing their mind against his sheets.

“I, uh, was wondering if I could have some assistance?” You stuttered, playing with the bracelet on your wrist as he leaned against the kitchen counter. 

He suppressed a chuckle, “What, like a flat tire? Cause if it’s school related, you’re screwed.”

Smiling, you tried to think of any way to ask the abrupt question with any amount of composure or decency. The nerves stockpiling in your stomach were consuming you, but the need to be touched was far greater.

“I know your reputation.” You blurted, taking a step closer to him that you could practically feel his body heat. 

“I think everyone does?” He peered at you, trying to get any read on your emotions or the reason why you decided to show up at his door.

Blood flushed to your cheeks as you let out a nervous laugh, “No, I mean, uh, with the ladies.”

The toothy grin appeared after a few beats as he took one step closer to you, only a few inches from his face. You wanted to look away in shame, but his brown eyes were capturing you.

“Thought you had a little boyfriend from the football team?” This was true, you had been dating Ben Prout for about a year and you two were far from a power couple, like Jason and Chrissy, but people were aware of your relationship.

“He doesn’t touch me.” The words felt icy, but it was the truth. Ben was a selfish lover, usually opting to finish and leaving you high and dry. “Plus he's been cheating on me with Marcia, from seventh period, for a few weeks.”

A bit taken aback by your vulnerable revelation, he nodded, taking a step closer to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingers were coarse from his guitar playing, leaving chills across your body in their wake.

“You need to get fucked don’t you?” The lewd words dripped from his mouth into yours as it hung open, breathing hard before colliding lips. While you began eager, it didn’t take long for him to take the reins, holding your face and determining the pace. He backed you into his bedroom, slamming the door shut with such force it shook the trailer a bit. 

He wasted no time in undressing you, pleasantly surprised to see how your bra and panties matched, a soft lilac color with a small flower on the waistband. You sighed as his hands began roaming your body, his mouth nipping at your collarbones to leave hickies that would remain for days afterwards.

Stepping back to get a look at you as you fell against the bed had him pause, a sly grin etching his face at your needy demeanor. “So you came all this way, just to get screwed by the town freak?”

His body stood between your legs as he peeled off his shirt, an unintentional groan exerting from your mouth. “Yeah, I need you.”

“Awe,” He taunted, peeling off his jeans to leave him in his boxers, “You need to get fucked that bad? Going to a guy you barely knows house just to get stuffed.” 

You agreed as he kissed down your chest, removing your bra, “Yeah, but I know you Eddie. We’ve gone to the same school for years.” You whimpered when his mouth reached a nipple, spit sliding off the curve of your breast.

“Y-You’re in that band, right? Corroded Coffin? A-and you’re in Hellfire with those other boys?” Your stammering pleased him as he released from your chest with a pop, not missing the faint blush on his cheeks, but making sure to make a remark to save his ass, “Someone did their research.”

The trail down to your navel was littered with kisses, nibbling, and sucking before his breath hit your soaking center. Eddie could be a greedy bastard if he wanted to, this was one of those times. Immediately pulling down the frail material, his fingers entered you as you mewled, arching your back. He let out a string of curses at the sight, feeling himself growing harder in his boxers, dipping down to place his tongue on your clit.

“Look like a damn pornstar. You’re soaked already, ole Benny been neglecting you, hm?” He cooed, watching as your slick began to cover his rings, shining against the light of the moon through his window. He wished he had a polaroid to capture this, but his lips went back to work against your bundle of nerves, already feeling a climax approaching.

“I think I came one or two times with him, but he didn’t go down on me.” You admitted, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at yours, a bit stunned. He chose to keep his mouth on your pussy, working faster until you were on edge. His two digits pumped in and out, curving to find your g-spot as he traced shapes and letters against your bud. 

As your orgasm approached, your hands went to his hair, holding it lightly while your moans got louder. The first climax of the night rolled over your body calmly, slightly shivering as he quickened his pace, sensitive from it all. It had been months since you came and it was apparent. 

Eddie lifted up bending your knees to your chest to get a better view of your swollen pussy, your wetness coating his lower face. “He’s missing out.” He ogled, letting his thumb run against your labia as you shivered, “Feeling okay?”

You gave him a thumbs up as you tried to regulate your breathing which made him laugh, coming to eye level to kiss you again. The taste of yourself mixed with his spit felt exhilarating, hand going behind his neck and gripping at his hair. He caught your bottom lip in his teeth, dragging it briefly.

“You wanna keep going?” He checked as you felt his clothed boner against your cunt, the feeling alone could have sent you over the edge. 

“Fuck yeah.” You beamed, his own toothy grin making an appearance.

“Can’t lie to you, you’ve really got me going.” He started, “Gotta tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?” Once you acknowledged your consent, lips met one anothers again, his hand coming down to press your hips against the bed. You could feel him aching through his boxers while he grinded against you.

Raising himself up, he sat on his haunches and helped you position on all fours. This alone was thrilling as you had been accustomed to just missionary, which was good, but this was enticing. His hands grabbed at the meat of your ass, a hiss leaving your lips at the tension. He lifted to his knees, guiding himself against your center with one hand gripping at his headboard. 

When his tip entered, you suspended any movement, completely focused on every ridge and vein. You felt his spare hand rubbing your hip, “Gotta relax for me, gonna hurt if you don’t.”

You obeyed, dropping to your elbows as he sank further in, beginning small strokes. He hadn’t even fully entered you yet and you were falling apart. The dainty noises leaving your mouth edged him on as he went deeper. You let out a ragged moan as he flushed against you, holding you still against him.

“Feel good, baby?” His voice was kind, but littered with arrogance as he knew he had you in the palm of his hand. “Wanna go faster?”

He thought your head could fall off from how intensely you nodded, he landed a slap against your ass before speeding his tempo. He mixed between full and half thrusts, trying to figure out what was getting you going the most, but they blended together as he saw how your upper half was sinking to the mattress.

“Tell me,” He gruffed, grabbing your hair to pull up to his face, voice tickling your ear, “How good do you feel?” You only released a squeak to his delight, a few tears falling down your cheek. 

“Awe, you need dick so badly, don’t you? Just need someone to fuck you properly?” He teased, you hadn’t expected Eddie to be as into dirty talk as he was, but you should’ve expected it. He spent most of his time playing a fantasy game where he made new characters, of course he was gonna be good with his words.

He let your head fall back down, slapping your ass again, “Fuck yourself on me.”

You whined as your hips went backwards, stunting at the feeling of his cock fully inside you, but he smacked your ass harshly, swinging you back into motion. You thrusted against him as he enjoyed watching you adjust to him, taking a few calming breaths to make sure he didn’t explode quite yet. 

While it was fun to see you try and get yourself off, he much preferred seeing you a mess beneath him. He clasped onto your side with one hand as the other went to your clit, flinching at the sensitivity, but immediately softening at his touch. You thought you could feel him everywhere as your mind began to slip.

Actions ruthless, he laughed as you came again, “Shit, you’re just too easy, you love it.” You cried as he didn’t withhold any motion on the account of finishing again, feeling your body shake against his. 

“How much do you love it?” He gritted, moving his hand from your clit to rub at your stomach, the soothing motion was enough to get you to form words.

“A lot, thank you master.” You babbled, drool coming from your lips and a bit onto his sheets. But his mind was hyper focused on the pet name, yanking you up again by your throat, cool rings making it all the more hypnotic. 

“Master?” He gaped as you gulped, he could feel it against your warm skin. He loved the name, always wanting to experiment with it in the bedroom, but figuring most girls wouldn’t want to feed into his peculiar status as Dungeon Master. Taking one look at you, he knew there was another motive.

“What’s my name?” His grip tightened against your neck, gasping with a moan as his hips still moved steadily. You whimpered, biting your lip in slight embarrassment.

“You got so fucking cock drunk that you forgot my name, didn’t you?” He ridiculed, his fingers going to your open mouth to rest on your tongue. More than anything, he was amazed he was able to bring you to this state, forgetting the name of a boy you’d known since childhood.

“My. Name. Is. Eddie.” He proclaimed, each halt resulting in a firm thrust, gasping at each one. You mewled against his fingers, but he pulled them to grab your cheek and look in your eyes, back fully against his chest.

“I love your cock, Eddie. So much!” You cried, letting him lower both of you against the bed, his weight resting on you until he propped up, still inside of you. He fucked you into the mattress, the squeaks from the bed and your mouth filling the room. 

“Eddie, please.” You fussd as abruptly pulled out, much to your dismay, but you glanced back to see him extremely flushed. You could tell by the throbbing he was on the brink of losing it, hands rubbing his face. 

Wordlessly, he flipped you to your back, kissing you as he thrusted in fully. You wailed, arching against him as he forced your legs against your chest, knees bending. Watching as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. 

“Oh my God.” You sobbed, feeling so stretched out you could rip in two pieces. But if it meant you could feel like this? You would rip into a million for him. His knees shifted beside your hips, giving him better access to you.

He held your face in one hand as his eyes bored into yours, both of you too pent up to be thinking about how romantic these long gazes were. His thumb pulled your bottom lip down, letting him spit into your mouth to watch you greedily swallow it.

“You really are such a cock slut, aren’t you?” He cooed, “You get so dumb over my dick, let me spit in your fucking mouth, I bet you’d even let me fuck a baby into you?” While it was a backless taunt, he felt the way you squeezed around him, the thought of him filling you up to the brim had you aching even more. 

He let out a breathless, astonished laugh. “You would let me fuck you so good, I could give you a baby? Just so you could get filled up?” You nodded in shame, crying as he bottomed out again, rubbing circles against your clit. “Would you let me fuck that little asshole?” He pressed, but to his surprise you kept nodding, watery eyes staring into his. He could see how fast you were losing it, mouth still hanging open from when he spit in it. 

“You would do anything for this cock, wouldn’t you?” At this point, he was feeding his own ego, but watching you submit to him was as pleasurable as the feeling of being inside of you. 

He groaned before kissing you again, hand coming to tweak your pert nipple. Your body was on fire underneath him, brain completely flustered by his actions, but you couldn’t tell if Eddie was igniting or extinguishing this desire. Was he fucking you so good you’d be sedated for a few weeks or would you need this daily?

You didn’t have much time to contemplate as your body shook, another orgasm threatening to come across your overstimulated body. Your mouth left his as you sniffled, his grasp on your face to force you to look at him. 

You were at his complete disposal as you looked into his kind eyes, breath staggering as he approached on his own finish. You lifted your hands to cup both sides of his face, pulling your foreheads together.

“You’re okay, I got you, I got you.” He stuttered, feeling you convulse against his body before he let go himself. He cursed against your cheek, flooding your walls with his release, giving a few weak thrusts to milk it out, falling against you limply.

You laid in each other's arms momentarily, still wrapping your heads around what happened just seconds ago. He rolled onto his side, exiting your cunt while you whimpered, the feeling of being empty was chilling. But he pulled you into his chest, kissing your head affectionately, giving you a few more minutes to collect yourself.

“Do you fuck all your girls like that?” You couldn’t help, but wonder if this sensation was for all the women who wandered into Eddie Munson’s trailer on the wrong side of the tracks or if you had just gotten incredibly lucky. You felt his warm breath against your head, taking a sharp inhale.

“No.” He imparted, stroking his fingers against your soft hair, “I’ve only fucked, like, 3 girls like 2 years ago so word really does get around.” You giggled at his comment, suppressing the surprise that, while he was fantastic, he wasn’t this holy grail man all the girls came to. 

“But this?” He trailed, his digits going to rub your arms, “This was by far the best though, that was so hot.” You felt bashful as you shoved your face against his rumbling chest, pulling you to look in his eyes, “Kinda hard to hide from me now since I literally just spent half an hour inside you.”

His tone was playful as you rolled your eyes, smiling at him, feeling his seed still seeping from your hole. You almost moaned at the feeling, a reminder of the way he contorted you into extreme amounts of pleasure.

As the laughter faded naturally, you laid there across from one another, exhaustion hitting both of you like a truck. You were able to peel yourself from his warm embrace to put your clothes back on, a sly whistle leaving his lips when you bent over to get your underwear from the floor. He noticed his release beginning to trickle down your thigh, resisting the urge to lap it up with his tongue and kiss you. He only snapped out of his fantasy to see you giving him the middle finger playfully.

“Thanks, by the way, hope it wasn’t too weird.” You confided, adjusting your belt to the correct loop, pulling it through. 

“Not at all, I’m always here.” He foreshadowed, knowing this couldn’t be the last time you would wind up here because now he knew to seek you out as well. You smiled kindly, leaning down to kiss his forehead and walking out his front door.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

authors note: hey so i wrote this on a whim while horny so there's probably mistakes but WHOOPS.

i will never escape the horny on main allegations, sorry.

anyways heres the taglist, lmk if u wanna be on there, feedback is always appreciated :)

@meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @wicked-wordy-witchy-witch @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @imsuchafriggensimp @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @diaryofthedoll

#elora writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie stranger things #eddie my love #stranger things s4 #eddie my beloved #stranger things #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x y/n #stranger things season four #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things season 4

[micahwritesweird]

Hmm..

Kidd or killer with a fem?

I would also say izou but you don't know him yet so oop

Let's see if you can tell who I am

I certainly can, but I’m not too familiar with them yet so I apologize if this isn’t that great 😅 Unfortunately still haven't seen Izou yet, but im very close! About 40 episodes I believe. (also ty for sending a dm to confirm who you were/your age <3) (edit: so sorry I forgot their headers, these were very rushed 😭) NSFWTWT Links & mini scenarios - Eustass 'Captain' Kidd and Killer x Fem!S/O

Warnings: Possibly slight somno in Killer’s part, manhandling, choking

Careful! Links at their names!

It's no secret that Kidd is a big boy, and not just under the waist band either. He knows it, and you certainly know it. He’s used his large frame and muscles to his advantage countless times even before the two of you were an official ‘thing’. Towering over you a little too close because he liked the way you would squirm and avoid his gaze, a firm grip on your shoulder every now and then that would linger a bit too long, he overwhelmed you just the right amount that made you putty in his hands. And of course, this power was transferred to the bedroom (or wherever he decided) too. Kidd knew his strength and knew how easily he could break you, and lucky for you he was a man with... enough self control to know when to hold back, especially when it came to you. But after a night where you were a little too mouthy and getting a little too close to other men in the bar, teasing and taunting him with the outfit you decided to wear that you knew would attract the eyes of all others around you, he had finally reached his breaking point. And your misbehavior couldn’t go unpunished now could it?

After a long, hard day of, well, being Killer, he finally found time to relax in his room. Some time later, you find him asleep with an arm over his mask, chest heaving with each breath with a familiar bulge in his tight jeans. Your face flushed a light pink, and as you tried to quietly tip toe out of the room you’re stopped in your tracks when you hear the sleepy, panting lull of your name off of Killer’s tongue behind his mask. Did you hear that right? Was Killer dreaming about you? After a moments hesitation and considering your options, you’re closing the door being you and walking over to his bed. “Killer~” You whisper next to his masked face followed by kisses down his neck and shoulder. He wakes with a slight gasp, propping up on his elbows and muttering your name lightly followed by a small groan from the tight sensation in his pants. Offering to help him out with his... ordeal, you proposed an idea that would allow him to take off his mask to comfortably enjoy the help that he gladly accepts. His mind still hazy with sleep, Killer lets you take the reins and do as you please as you bounce yourself on his lap, the burning sensation in your thighs with each rise and fall worth it for every moan and whine that leaves Killer’s voice.

#one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece twitter links #one piece eustass kid #one piece kidd #one piece kidd x reader #one piece eustass kid x reader #kidd x reader #eustass x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kidd x reader #one piece killer #killer x reader #eustass kidd smut #killer smut #eustass kidd scenario #killer scenario

[elliestwoleftfingerss]

Hey, can you write something for Tommy Miller? The reader is tommy's wife and he finds her after serval years after he thought she was dead (she using all his tricks, she learned from him) he being a proud husband. Thank you 💜

Sorry if I took a while to reply to this, my absolute dumbass was reading it at 10 at night and thought the gender was switched (I basically thought Tommy was the one who was supposed to be dead lmfao). This gave me strong 'Huntsman: Winters War' vibes, so if it goes off a little, blame Chris Hemsworth <3 Thanks for the request, and I hope y'all enjoy :>

Not proofread

Gender: Female (She / Her)

Word count: 1125 words, 6054 characters

Warning: Mentions of death, Mentions of violence, Strong language

You knew death was coming to you. It was an inevitable end, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Death seemed like a foreign concept to you; you were always out of reach, but this time, it dug its claws into you and made up for those times you’d cheated it.

With everything you’d experienced in your life, death was more of a welcome than a burden. Your body finally gave in, your mind being able to finally rest from the endless trauma. You’d lived your life, and death opened its arms to you.

Where you were ready to let go, however, Tommy was not. You’d never seen him fight for something so hard before. With half-lidded eyes, you watched your beloved husband as he battled your dance with death to keep you awake. These hands, that had slaughtered more men than you were ever aware of, were so gentle with your broken form as he applied a pressure on the stab wound to your abdomen. The ruthless hands of a killer, handling you with the utmost care.

He tried everything he could think of to stop you from giving in to the temptation of death, but you eventually shut your eyes and let yourself rest.

“Tommy, if you’d just listen to me-” Joel’s gruff voice started, but the older brother wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Tommy interrupted him, for the umpteenth time. He refused to believe what he was hearing.

“Stop fuckin’ lying to me,” Tommy spat, his hands planted firmly on his hips as he turned his back to Joel to pace around the bar. “She isn’t alive.”

No, the dead are supposed to stay dead. Tommy watched you die. In a futile attempt to keep your heart beating, he knew you were long gone. He felt your pulse slip away, the only indicator of your life fading into oblivion like it had never existed at all.

“You aren’t hearing me!” Joel boomed. With Tommy already talking with a loud voice, Joel was now full-blown yelling. He couldn’t get his brother to listen to him; Tommy was convinced that you were dead. Everyone was convinced you were dead. They knew you were.

So how the hell were you alive?

“Because I watched her die!” Tommy snapped back, his voice threateningly low as he whirled around. This was clearly something Joel and Tommy didn’t agree on.

Before the boys could finish this argument, Tommy grabbed his pack and swung it over his shoulder. He didn’t hear any more of what Joel had to say, and stalked out of the Tipsy Bison.

Tommy and Joel’s horses, Justified and Old Beardy, stood tied up outside of the bar, and Tommy was fast to walk down the front steps of the Tipsy Bison and unknotting Justified’s reins. He hopped onto the horse’s back with his pack around his shoulders, spinning the animal in a tight circle and galloping off toward the woods.

As Tommy fled into the woods, he thought about what Joel had told him. It seemed impossible that’d you be alive: you died in his arms. He was first-hand witness to the whole situation, so he knew that there was nothing that could bring you back.

Joel said otherwise. How were you still active, after all of this time? You’d been killed years ago, and Tommy knew what he saw. He saw the woman he loved and valued most, lose the light in her eyes as she gave up the battle of staying conscious to the world.

Tommy huffed as Justified slowed down, the horse trotting his way through the woods with Tommy upon his back. The man needed some time to think about the information that his older brother had just tried to give him. Riding through the woods always gave Tommy some peace of mind.

That is, until he heard a loud gunshot ring through the trees.

The force of the noise was enough to startle Tommy and his horse, the animal immediately taking himself in a circle to run away from the direction that the noise came from. It came from deeper within the forest, the brunt of the shot bouncing around the wooded area.

A normal person’s first instinct would be to run in the opposite direction of a gunshot, but Tommy was drawn to it. Was someone else out here? How close were they? Should he sus out the situation and follow the noise?

The middle-aged man chose the latter, and gave his horse a firm boot with his heels to send him galloping into the woods. The horse wasn’t happy to oblige, but gave in due to the sheer force that was Tommy Miller.

As they raced deeper into the woods, Tommy hoped another shot would ensue so he could try and find the source. He hadn’t seen any people outside of Jackson that he didn’t know, so the situation was refreshing to him.

Tommy pulled Justified to a halt, the horse’s hooves pacing against the foliate ground as the man on his back perked up. Tommy had spotted something – something large, lying on the ground.

Swinging his legs over the saddle and landing with a silent groan, Tommy led his horse toward the thing he’d spotted. As he got closer, he noticed that his observation began to take the shape of some kind of large animal. Upon closer inspection, the animal was a deer. He wasn’t sure what kind of deer, but it was dead.

The deer had a bullet wound at the side of its head, which would’ve killed it instantly. It was a strategically placed shot for a person, so whoever had killed it must have been a good marksman.

Tommy knelt beside the animal and inspected it, one hand holding his horse’s reins, and the other trailing over the wound that the deer had in the side of its face. He wondered who’d shot and killed it. The deer only had the single wound there, so whoever shot it did it effortlessly.

A twig cracked.

Tommy’s head snapped over his shoulder, and his pupils contracted when he was met with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his face.

On the other end of the gun, a woman, no older than Tommy himself, clutched the weapon with both hands. She adjusted her fingers against the firearm as she kept the front end of the gun in line with Tommy’s eyes.

As Tommy’s eyes crept up the length of the gun and the extended arms of the person, his gaze eventually reached their face. He swallowed back a lump forming in his throat as he took in the bloody-faced woman standing before him.

You, his wife. You were alive.

As promised, a tag for @musings-of-a-rose

Another part? Let me know in the comments or reblogs :) Thanks for reading, and remember my asks are open so bombard me <3

#elliestwoleftfingers #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou x reader #tlou2 x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us 2 x reader #the last of us x you #tommy miller #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller x reader

[esther-dot]

When I first read abt Arya killing that poor singer I thought she did it to punish him because he deserted Jon. Do you think she followed her father's example? Sure she knows about the executions of deserters, but I thought the key to that was Jon. She has just learned news about him, that he is lord commande and they call him "black bastard of the Wall".

This is so old, I can't find what it was in response to, but I found the draft and thought I'd post it anyway, anon. Sorry about that!

I suppose to me it felt jarring because Ned had a duty as Warden to kill deserters, and yes, to the reader, we understand the problem in that he doesn’t take the stories of the Others seriously, that he should have sought to understand before passing judgment, and of course, I object to the institution of the Watch as a whole, but in-world, he was enacting justice and doing his duty. 

Arya has no such duty. She isn't tasked to carry out the king's justice, there is no honor demanding she act here. When I read her killing that singer, I thought she chose to kill when it wasn’t required of her in any sense. Not only was it not her duty, her life or the next person’s wasn’t in immediate danger, so I felt an implicit judgment in the writing that it was indicating something about Arya that should concern us.

I agree that we can read it in a sympathetic way because of her loyalty to Jon, but that’s where my thoughts regarding “well, if you kill one person for deserting your brother then where’s the justice in supporting your deserter brother?” enter the chat, and I have questions about what Martin was thinking because he writes Jon's feelings about this so compellingly:

Tyrion Lannister had claimed that most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it, but Jon was done with denials. He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life—however long that might be—he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name. Wherever he might go throughout the Seven Kingdoms, he would need to live a lie, lest every man's hand be raised against him. But it made no matter, so long as he lived long enough to take his place by his brother's side and help avenge his father. He remembered Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair. Jon would have to come to him in secret, disguised. He tried to imagine the look on Robb's face when he revealed himself. His brother would shake his head and smile, and he'd say … he'd say …

He could not see the smile. Hard as he tried, he could not see it. He found himself thinking of the deserter his father had beheaded the day they'd found the direwolves. "You said the words," Lord Eddard had told him. "You took a vow, before your brothers, before the old gods and the new." Desmond and Fat Tom had dragged the man to the stump. Bran's eyes had been wide as saucers, and Jon had to remind him to keep his pony in hand. He remembered the look on Father's face when Theon Greyjoy brought forth Ice, the spray of blood on the snow, the way Theon had kicked the head when it came rolling at his feet. He wondered what Lord Eddard might have done if the deserter had been his brother Benjen instead of that ragged stranger. Would it have been any different? It must, surely, surely … and Robb would welcome him, for a certainty. He had to, or else … It did not bear thinking about. Pain throbbed, deep in his fingers, as he clutched the reins. Jon put his heels into his horse and broke into a gallop, racing down the kingsroad, as if to outrun his doubts. Jon was not afraid of death, but he did not want to die like that, trussed and bound and beheaded like a common brigand. If he must perish, let it be with a sword in his hand, fighting his father's killers. He was no true Stark, had never been one … but he could die like one. Let them say that Eddard Stark had fathered four sons, not three. (AGOT, Jon IX)

Obviously, we weren't being guided to think Robb would or would be right to punish Jon. Later, Robb names Jon his heir to really bring that home. So, as much as we're primed to view Daeron with anger due to Sam's frustrations, I still don't think we're meant to be comfortable with Arya's actions.

I also think this fits in with a bigger issue of, you can't be a just ruler if you're favoring family and exempting them from the rules. Bran will be king, does he reform the Watch so deserting is no longer punishable by death? He can't be "just" if Jon is allowed to abandon it while others cannot. And, as much as justice is of the upmost concern, mercy is a consideration too. AGOT has the struggle between Ned's merciful nature and his duty to his king. We aren't meant to think he was right to capitulate when the demand for execution was wrong, but if the right thing for Ned to do was to defy his king, refuse to do his duty, how is it right for Arya to voluntarily kill a guy when she has none of those pressures? I agree that her love for Jon was a factor, but I don't think we’re meant to be ok with this.

#dot chat #< for filtering

[phoenixkaptain]

There is something so comforting about characters who choose not to be evil.

Like, Luke Skywalker stands on the precipice of not coming back, almost let’s his rage and fear overtake him, and you can see him realize that. You can see the moment where he makes the conscious decision to take the hard way out of this. You can see him choose to stop, choose to control his own impulses, and choose to show mercy on a being that has not showed or been shown mercy in a very long time.

Or Cissie King-Jones in the Young Justice run. Her school was attacked, the woman who got Cissie out of her horrible living situation was murdered, and Cissie was inadvertently shown the tape that the murderer made of killing her, where he made her beg to live but shot her anyway. Cissie is rightfully pissed. Cissie hunts down the shooter. Cissie makes him beg for his life, makes him fear that she’s going to kill him. And, Superboy comes in to remind her that she doesn’t want to be a killer, but it’s Cissie herself who stops. It’s Cissie herself who realizes that she doesn’t want to be in this position, that she’s scared and feels alone and vulnerable and she doesn’t know what to do. Cissie pulls herself out of the situation, she decides that she can’t kill someone who isn’t worth going to prison for. She makes that choice, even though it’s the most difficult choice she’s made.

Peter Parker’s violent thoughts are often portrayed as a joke, especially early on, but Peter is always holding himself back. He is constantly making the choice not to hurt people. He is always conscious of his super strength and how easily he could hurt someone or kill someone with it. He is always aware of his own potential to cause pain. But he chooses not to. He chooses to keep his touch light, even when he could make the excuse he was distracted. He is always making that choice, he always makes the choice to be a better person, he always tries so damn hard to be a halfway decent person, even on days he wishes he could be awful and selfish and cruel.

There’s just something about characters who have walked that line. Characters who stopped themselves and thought “I don’t want to do this.” Characters who are scared and who worry that their capacity for evil alone makes them less good. Characters who decide that it doesn’t matter, because they’re going to try to be a better person whether the universe allows it or not.

I don’t know. I just love those characters who had to go through Hell to be what they eventually become. Characters who are broken down and build themselves back up even stronger. Characters who put the reins on their impulses and decide that they’re in control, not their instincts and not anybody who might desire to control them.

There’s something immensely comforting that some of the most powerful characters in media are not made any less powerful or any less heroic because of things they cannot control, like their thoughts. They can only control how they respond to those thoughts. That’s what separates them from villains, that’s what makes them so powerful, they don’t choose the easy way out of things. Their willpower is stronger than steel. And it’s nice.

#luke skywalker #cissie king jones #peter parker #star wars #dc #young justice #marvel #spiderman #imperfect characters #luke looking at the past and choosing to extend a hand in mercy #cissie realizing that murdering the guy will just be giving him an easy out while making her own life more difficult #peter having impulsive thoughts about murdering people who are cruel to him #character analysis #these characters are near and dear to my heart #because they prove that choosing to be good #is what makes you good #you aren’t born good or bad #your goodness is determined by your actions #and your thoughts are not sinful #you can’t help your mind going to some dark places sometimes #and that doesn’t make you bad #you don’t have to be perfect to be good #you choose to be good #the inane ramblings of a madman

[enzohuang]

unfair / a self para

location: nightrest pd 

time: the night vivian was stabby stabbed & after the jane doe body was discovered

trigger warnings: police, violence, guns, murder

Even with how cooperative he had been in answering their questions, the officers in front of him looked at Enzo with open disgust and it wasn’t hard for him to know why. Thoughts of his past ran through his mind, that night when his aunt’s cop boyfriend took out his gun and aimed it right at her head because he was done listening to her during their argument that Enzo had walked into. 

The way Enzo tried to deescalate the situation by putting his hands up and standing between the two, trying to calm his aunt’s then boyfriend down, but his presence didn’t seem to be a calming on. It was a quick movement, so quick and so slight, an unpracticed eye wouldn’t have seen the quiver of a finger that itched towards the trigger that got Enzo to lunge forward to try and grab the gun from him. A struggle ensued and as he looked into the crazed eyes of the man who wanted nothing more than to win, no matter the cost, Enzo knew he didn’t have a choice. 

The trigger was pulled but it was by his own hand. 

Nobody cared that it was self defense then, just that it happened and the life behind bars started. 

Enzo hated being here in their little questioning room, noting the camera at the far side of the room as he faced the two officers in front of him, matching looks of contempt and disgust on their faces. 

“I’ve answered all your questions. Can I go now?” He asked, only to be met with stony silence. A flash of annoyance can be seen on his features as he sat up slightly. “Yes, I saw Vivian because she brought her car over to Mike’s. No, I hadn’t seen her since then. No, I had no fucking clue there was a fucking body right by the place where I work at because I hadn’t noticed anything. I pass by it everyday, and every damn time, I just thought it was fucking snow,” Enzo said, listing his answers to the questions they keep asking him, even though it seemed like they didn’t even want to listen. 

“You know, what I don’t understand is why we shouldn’t just lock him up right now,” one of the police officers said, blatantly ignoring Enzo as he turned towards his partner. “On what fucking grounds?” Enzo blurted out, his eyes narrowing as the cop slammed his hands on the table with a resounding boom. 

“On the grounds that you’re already a murderer.” The cop muttered, and Enzo could only stare them both down. “It was self defense,” Enzo immediately said, the agitation of having to repeat himself gnawing at him. He just wanted to go the fuck home already. Wasn’t this supposed to just be a simple questioning? Protocol? What part of this was considered normal? Was this even legal? If he had Josie here right now, she would shut this thing down so quickly.

"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” The other officer asked and Enzo couldn’t hide his anger now. “It’s the truth. You think I enjoyed seeing that guy die because of me? You weren’t fucking there. You didn’t see the way he wouldn’t listen to reason. I had to kill him or he would have killed me. Or my aunt. Probably us both, then would call it a day and go back here to be with you pigs,” he spat out just to be met with  what sounded like such cruel laughter. 

“Maybe he should have. Rid the world of the disease that’s you and your slut of an aunt.” 

Enzo gritted his teeth, trying his best to rein in his raging temper. 

“You probably killed those two women too, didn’t you?”

“Cop killer.”

“Murderer.” 

Enzo didn’t stop to think about what he was about to do. He wasn’t restrained, and there was such sweet satisfaction when his fist hit the jaw of one of the police officers, hard enough to knock him off his chair so he’d fall on his ass. 

Before he could even blink, more police officers got into the room, holding his arms behind his back before dragging him into one of the overnight cells he had stayed at before when he’d get into fights. But those nights happened before he had been locked up for real and the last thing he wanted was to be behind bars again. “You can’t fucking keep me here!” Enzo said as he put up a struggle, his breaths turning heavy when he was tossed in. 

His belongings had already been confiscated before he got inside the room where he had been questioned so he had nothing on him.  Just the clothes he was wearing and with the look in the police officers’ eyes as they looked at him, Enzo just knew he wasn’t going to be getting a phone call any time soon too. Couldn’t call his aunt, his sister, EJ. Fuck, he couldn’t even call Josie for help, even if he wanted to. He had nothing. Completely at the mercy of people who seemed to not care what would happen to him. Good thing he didn’t have a meet up with a customer tonight too, because being caught with drugs would have just been the icing on this shitty cake of a night.

One of them leaned in, her eyes steely as she held up a photo of a pretty blonde. 

“You killed Harlow Sotheby, didn’t you?” 

Enzo merely let out a disbelieving laugh as he wondered how stupid these people actually are. Thinking they had a lead just because they have someone with a past crime locked up in what he was sure wasn’t a completely legal way. Trying to prove they’re all big and mighty because there were bars between him and them now. How many times are they going to call him a murderer before they realize he didn’t do jackshit?

The funny thing is if he just hadn’t gone in for his shift tonight at Mike’s like he had previously planned, he wouldn’t fucking be here. That, mixed in with the anger at their quick and consistent judgment of him solely based on his past, and the confusion of being shown a picture of a woman he’d never seen before in his life, made him feel the strong urge to want to hit something. 

“Who?” Enzo asked, watching them walk away from him. 

--- 1.5 days later ---

Enzo’s threats and curses fell on deaf ears the entire time he was detained, but word had gotten back to his aunt -- Enzo knew nothing would get past that woman -- and Catherine Graves got him out eventually. “I can’t believe they made you stay overnight in that holding cell,” she said with a huff as he signed the waiver to get back his wallet, and his phone. “Look, I got somewhere to go, but you’ll be okay?” Enzo asked as he walked out of there, glaring at everybody he passed. 

Their time will come eventually, he thought darkly. 

At his aunt’s nod, he wrapped an arm around her for a quick hug. “Thanks for getting me out,” he murmured before walking back towards Mike’s so he can get his car.  

#( self para ) #this was supposed to be posted yesterday blame drunk!ev

[captain-tch]

Blast from the Past (Glenn Rhee x Platonic!Reader)

When you encounter an acquaintance from your life before, you're reminded of the pains and joy of reunion. Inspired by this request.

Deanna had roped you into some bullshit, yet again. She always said you had a way of getting people to open up, get them at ease and loosen their lips. When she told you about the newcomers, you were wary. Having only been inside the walls a few weeks yourself, you knew the utter hell that was occurring outside. You were well aware that to survive, sometimes you had to abandon all morals and do what you needed to do to see another day. A group this large... You couldn't even fathom the atrocities they faced and the blood they had to shed.

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

Clearing your throat, you clenched your fists, then loosened them again. Your palms ached with relief, imprints of your fingernails indented deep into your flesh. You focused on that relief, taking a deep breath and you rapped your hand on the door before you could think about it anymore.

The door squeaked open. Your heart juddered in your chest. As much as your hairs were on end thinking of this group, you couldn't help but wonder. Who were they? Were they good people? Were they people you could one day be friends with? Or were they the type of people to slice your throat in the middle of the night and run away with your supplies?

Absentmindedly, your hand drifted to your neck.

The door opened further. It revealed a man, hand on the door handle looking slightly lost. You couldn't even imagine how strange it felt to hear someone knock on the door, and actually wait to be invited in. Manners were a luxury in this world.

"Um, hi." You snapped back to attention at the sound of his gravelly voice, taking a moment to take him in. He was dark haired, an unruly beard covering his jaw. Instinctively your eyes darted to the blood splatters on his neck. Scenario's whirred in your mind. Self defence. Murder. Ultimatum. Sacrifice. No matter the story playing out in your head, all you could see was the danger that blood implied.

You tried to control your nerves as you flashed him your best smile.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. I hear you guys are new to town?"

The man grunted. "Rick." His voice was husky as he uttered one word. "Yes."

There was a reason Deanna asked you to speak to them. Speaking to this man was like pulling teeth.

"Uh, I joined recently so I know it's hard to adjust." You shrugged, shuffling on your feet. "I help lead the runs around here, so if you ever get any cabin fever I'll hook you up."

Rick's lips twitched into an echo of a smile. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me." Sending him a quick grin, you start to retreat away. You hoped you did what Deanna wanted. There was no way in hell you were going to get them to tell you their whole story after one conversation; maybe you calmed their worries. You resisted the urge to wash yourself clean: for some reason, speaking to these people made you feel dirty. Maybe it was because they reminded you of a past you were trying to put behind you, or maybe it was because Deanna was the real reason behind why you were having a conversation with someone other than Aaron.

Behind you, you heard low mutters, then Rick calling your name.

You spun around, eyes widening as you caught sight of the familiar face in the doorway. All of the worries you had disappeared as you stared at this familiar stranger in a world gone mad. You wanted to dance and cry at the same time; a tie to a world long gone, a reminder of both the beautiful things, and of the horrors since passed.

Before you could rein in the words your mouth was moving. "Holy fucking shit, you're alive?"

The man frowned at you. He seemed tense, wariness clear on his face. It didn't bother you at all.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I've changed a lot since you last saw me. I'm glad you got rid of that god foresaken hat, jesus it must have been a game killer."

Still there was no recognition on his face. You were talking to this man as if he was an old friend. You tried to ignore the smallest pang of hurt in your chest at the blankness of his expression.

There was only one thing you could do.

"Flat 120B."

You could see the cogs turning in his head. He looked at you, staring with a slack jaw. One by one the pieces started to fall together. A bright grin full of disbelief spread across his face. "How - how are you here?"

"I could ask the same of you," you echoed his expression, grinning just as brightly. "Glenn."

Before you could comprehend what was happening, he was rushing towards you, thrusting his arms around your neck. You instinctively fell into his hold, suppressing the thin veil of tears coating your eyes. You breathed in his scent - sweat and blood - and desperately tried to anchor yourself to him.

"Where's Alex?"

The smile on your face dropped. You suppressed the lump in your throat, forcing your words out. "They're not here. Hasn't been for a while."

Realisation dawned on him. He only held you tighter, squeezing you so hard you felt as if your ribs were about to pop. He dropped his head down, mourning someone who he had believed had been gone for a long time.

"I'm sorry - do you two know each other?" Rick's hands fell on his hips, his brow raised.

Glenn pulled away, turning to face Rick. You already ached missing the warmth he gave off... It had been so long since you had been touched, yet alone held. To be hugged by someone who shared the pain of your loss, even if they only knew Alex as a friendly customer, it grounded you in a way you hadn't been in a long time. At the same time, it made the grief so much more real.

Clearing your throat, you tried to hide a sniffle. "Back when everything hadn't hit the fan he would come deliver a BBQ cheese pizza 8PM every Friday night, like clock work."

Glenn smiled fondly. "You guys always gave the best tips."

"My partner," you tried to ignore the strain in your voice as you pushed back it, "and I, we saved up all week for that. Worth it every time."

"I - I never knew you did that."

"You were a good kid." You shook your head. "I don't guess you're much of a kid now."

"Hey, do you want to come inside? Meet the others?" Glenn looked towards Rick, who's warning glance softened at Glenn's eagerness. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Rick looked at you, then back at Glenn. He kept his hand on his holster, not saying a word.

"Uh," you backed away a few steps. "I actually have a few errands I need to run. You guys settle in. When you're ready, I'm at the house down the street, with the green door."

"But-" Glenn tried to convince you to stay, only to be silenced by Rick.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You took that as your cue to leave. Leaving them with a small smile and a wave, you turned on your heel, setting off back to your house.

An hour ago, you thought you were alone in this world. You were surrounded by strangers who didn't know the horrors of survival. All trace of who you had once been had disappeared.

And then you saw Glenn.

A pizza delivery man who only showed up once a week, to drop off your food and to exchange a few pleasantries. A man who would always try to turn down your tips, yet eventually left with a few extra dollars in his pocket. He was associated with some of your happy memories with Alex.

After seeing him for not even ten minutes, this blast from the past had given you something you hadn't been able to find for a long time.

Hope.

the walking dead masterlist

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #glenn rhee x reader #daryl dixon #glenn x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

#nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #nct scenarios #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin smut #jeno smut

[oxmelsa]

insomnis

(a/n): Mobius has made the list into top fav characters. Owen Wilson is just *chefs kiss*. enjoy this little ficlet... to be continued...? :-)

It’s hard to get a read on Loki’s boundaries.

Mobius is a friendly guy, what can he say-- little pokes and pats here and there tend to loosen people up, get them open, get them talking. He’s no chatty Kathy, that’s for sure, but it’s nice to be able to maneuver socializations with some semblance of grace, and even nicer to smooth it over with a good ol’ pat to the back. But Loki isn’t exactly open to the idea of touch, which honestly isn’t that surprising to literally anyone, and that can often lead to little awkward moments here and there where Mobius has to remind himself to take a step back and take it one conversation at a time.

...But. It’s just. Loki has this killer sense of humor, right, and he’s charming and intelligent and conversation comes so easy that it’s incredibly difficult to remember to keep himself reined in. To take it one conversation at a time. It’s dizzying to be the only one in the entire department who can elicit positive responses from Loki, God of Mischief (and yeah, okay, sue him if he has a little bit of a massive, interruptive crush). Ravonna had told him going into this case, after all that he had a soft spot for broken things, but Mobius likes to think of it as more than that. Mobius just likes to think that he can give good things to people. That he can do something as simple as touch, and that it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Everyone’s already gone to bed, now, but he’s perched in the library, restless and twitching for something to do. To contribute to. The stacks of files mock him from his cubicle, even from so far away, but hell if he wants to touch that thing with a ten foot pole. The sight of another manila folder right now might actually be the thing to drive him over the edge and prune himself, for Pete’s sake.

“Insomniatic, are we?” comes a familiar voice.

“Hm,” Mobius sighs. He doesn’t turn to face him yet. “Pot meet kettle.”

“I haven’t the foggiest what that means.”

Mobius glances over, then, and can’t help but smile a little. “Hey there, Loki.”

“Evening,” Loki says, curtly. His hands are clasped behind his back. “Or, morning, more like.” 

“Time doesn’t really work like that--”

“--down in the TVA, I know.” Loki sits down with an impatient huff; one that Mobius knows well, now. “I’m beginning to suspect the ‘T’ in ‘TVA’ might stand for ‘tedious’.”

Mobius chuckles, takes the bait. “And the ‘V’?” 

“‘Vendetta,’ obviously.”

“‘Obviously’,” Mobius repeats, mimicking Loki’s posh accent. It’s a terrible impression, but it gets a smile/grimace out of Loki, so it counts for something. He adds, “Vendettas sound more like your area, pal.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Vendettas are for children.” 

“F’course they are,” he murmurs, feeling the affection within him swell to proportions that threaten to burst. Loki glances over at him, looking wary, and Mobius holds his gaze, smiling, warm and fuzzy and everything all nice. “What’re you doing up, anyway? Looking for something to corrupt?”

Loki leans forwards to rest his forearms on his knees, staring straight ahead. “Looks like I found my target.”

Mobius barks a genuine laugh, one that seems to startle the other. “You couldn’t corrupt me if you tried.”

Loki turns to smile thinly. “You underestimate me,” he says.

“Nah.” He has a glint in his eye, now, he just knows it. “I think you underestimate me, though.”

“I don’t plan on making it a habit,” Loki admits, breaking their gaze. Mobius grins, reaches out to prod him in the ribs--

Quick as lightning, Loki’s hand snaps up to intercept the contact, gripping Mobius’ index finger with the kind of furious strength that frankly isn’t needed. Show off. 

Interestingly enough, beneath all that anger and fanfare, Loki looks caught out, like he’s just played his cards at the wrong time.

...Oh. 

Oh.

A ticklish show off.

“Touch me again without warning and I will tear you limb from limb,” he hisses, all sharp teeth and dark eyes. The effect is undermined when he begins to try to scoot away on the library bench, hand still clamped around Mobius’ offending finger.

“Ho-ly shit,” Mobius gapes, and he knows his genuine delight in the face of Loki’s fury is thick in his voice when he continues, incredulous, “You’re ticklish?”

“What?” Loki squints. His grip around Mobius’ finger tightens, and he looks like he knows he’s fucked. Oh, this is good. “No.”

“Yes!” Mobius laughs, bouncing his legs up and down in pure, uncontained glee. This is the best damn thing to have happened since sliced bread, honestly, might even top the invention of motorized vehicles. “Yes, you totally are!”

The beginnings of a flush of shame are beginning to creep up Loki’s neck, curling him inwards and away from Mobius’ obvious, blatant delight in such a humiliating discovery. But hell, if that ain't just the darndest thing-- Loki, God of Mischief, friend of fuckin’ Mobius, ticklish.

“This is just-- oh, this is gold. You know I can’t just let this one slide, right?” he grins. Loki eyes his trapped finger with mounting dread. “You know I have to investigate, as an analyst.”

Loki sputters, fighting for purchase. “Mobius-- no-- if you even think about touching me I will--” 

“You’re fighting a losing battle here, friend,” Mobius chuckles, and even quicker than lightning, strikes with his free hand.

Everything on Loki is lean and pale and very accessible through the polyester and denim TVA prisoner uniform-- Mobius’ hand finds home in the shape of a claw at Loki’s ribs, and Loki, holy hell, Loki.

He bucks.

“Oh, shit--” Mobius grunts, nerves alight with glee as he tries to chase the wriggling fish of a man with his hand--

“LET GO OF ME,” Loki bellows, wiggling like one of those pretty hula ornaments. “YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IMBECILIC CHILD, LET GO--”

“Keep your voice down, Hollering Hank, you’ll wake the whole unit up,” Mobius chides, grinning like a little boy on Christmas. He jabs quickly at Loki’s sides as he says it, and Loki’s legs spasm upwards with it. 

“Mobius--”

“I’m barely even trying to fight you, here!” Mobius laughs, trying in vain to free his other hand from Loki’s grip as he chases more spasmic reactions, maybe even laughter if he could get in there for long en--

“Oof,” he says instead, upon receiving the gift of Loki’s fist to the sternum.

He immediately flies backwards, sliding with emphasis to the other side of the bench; Loki is standing up in a flash, crimson as the dawn. Now ain’t that something, he thinks, coughing around the empty space in his lungs.

“You are pathetic,” he spits, dusting off his clothing. “A child.”

“You just punched me!” Mobius protests, laughing breathlessly.

“It was self-defense!” he cries. “A warranted attack!”

“You’re a... warranted attack,” Mobius retorts cleverly, preoccupied with staring at the flush set high on Loki’s cheekbones, visible in the darkness of the library. “...You’re also blushing like a bride.”

“Oh, fuck off, will you,” Loki groans, turning on his heel (drama queen that he is).

“C’mon, now, Loki,” Mobius calls after him with a laugh as he marches away, head held high. “It’s just a little tickling!” Loki offers no retort, but Mobius likes to imagine that he can see the tips of his ears go pink, then, too.

S’not the end of the world, after all.

#mine #fic #tickles #lokius #ticklish!loki #loki series #mcu

[jaskierswolf]

The Love We Have

Part 1/5 - AO3 - Next

Summary: Kaer Morhen has an old tradition in order to keep the witchers safe after the siege. Only witchers and their partners are allowed in the keep but Geralt is tired of parting with Jaskier over the winter so decides to invite him to Kaer Morhen... only he forgets to mention one tiny little detail.

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None?? Maybe... I'll add them later if I remember any.

(Written as a prompt that got way out of hand for @dani-dandelino and beta'd by @professorjaskier)

____

The path up the mountain was steep, treacherous and fucking cold. Jaskier felt himself slipping on the loose rocks underfoot. He yelped, ready to meet his maker but Geralt’s strong arms wrapped around his waist before he could hit the floor. It was all very reminiscent of a lover’s embrace.

One could only dream.

Geralt had been particularly stoic on the trek up The Killer, barely responding to even direct questions and grunting orders when they set up camp for the night, but there was none of their usual banter. Unfortunately, Jaskier’s fingers had been too frozen to pluck at his lute, leaving a deafening silence between them. To top it off Geralt was now glaring at him from across the campfire.

Jaskier sighed, stuffing his hands under his armpits, pulling his hood closer around his ears. “Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes widened as he seemed to finally register their surroundings, and he let out a low hum.

“Have- have I done something wrong?”

The crease between Geralt’s brows deepened, his jaws clenching. “No.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, scoffing haughtily. “Oh sure. Sure. So that’s why you’re acting all…” Jaskier trailed off, gesturing at Geralt’s direction with a flick of his wrist.

“Hmm.”

“Oh no. No, no, no. We are not doing this!” Jaskier tried to put his hands on his hips but the motion let a biting cold breeze into the thick woollen travelling coat that Geralt had insisted he buy for the journey to Kaer Morhen. “You’ve been grumpier than usual and honestly, I wasn’t sure that was possible. What’s going on, Geralt?”

Geralt let out a long heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wore a weary expression that Jaskier thought was utterly adorable; not that he would ever tell Geralt that. He’d learnt the hard way how much a witcher’s punch to the gut could hurt. Instead, he rested his chin on his knees and pouted at his friend. “Come on, Geralt, you invited me here. No pretending that we aren’t friends anymore.”

Geralt smiled faintly at that and then sighed once more. “I haven’t been honest with you.”

“About us being friends?” Jaskier laughed “I stopped caring about that years ago. Your actions speak louder than words, my dear.”

“Jaskier!”

Jaskier’s mouth snapped shut. He was barely able to conceal his gleeful smirk. This felt like coming home after the stone-cold silences of the last few days. It almost warmed the chill in his bones; almost. It would take a veritable miracle at this stage to fend off the frost bite.

“Done?” Geralt growled and Jaskier nodded. Pressing his lips together. “We have an old tradition at Kaer Morhen, ever since…” Geralt trailed off with a growl. “It’s to protect us, our home.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrow, tongue flicking out to lick his lip, a habit he’d picked up to prevent himself from interrupting Geralt. His witcher often took longer to find the right words, and Jaskier had learnt it was better to be patient.

“Only significant others are allowed.”

Jaskier blinked and Geralt’s words hung heavy in the air.

“I’m. I’m sorry, what?” he gaped.

Significant other?

“You heard me, bard.”

Jaskier let out a nervous laugh, wringing his hands in his lap. “But. but we’re. we’re not?”

Oh, if only they were.

“I know that.”

“Then why?!” Jaskier wasn’t proud of the way his voice squeaked, jumping two octaves.

“I. I trust you.”

Jaskier scoffed. After nearly a decade of friendship he sincerely hoped that the witcher trusted him. He had been absolutely delighted when Geralt had extended the invitation to his elusive home in the mountains. He hated leaving Geralt over winter, the cold making his dorms at Oxenfurt seem even lonelier… but to pretend they were dating?

It was a little too close to the truth for comfort.

He was surprised Geralt had asked him at all. The witcher rarely admitted they were friends. Jaskier couldn’t imagine he’d be particularly thrilled about pretending to be lovers, and he had a brilliant imagination!

Unless, of course, Jaskier had gotten the wrong end of the stick. He could be jumping to conclusions. Geralt probably hadn’t meant for them to pretend to be lovers at all. It was just a pre-warning that Jaskier might not be entirely welcome until he earned the other witcher’s trust. They were breaking the rules. That was it.

“So…” he trailed off, not knowing how to voice his question. Geralt, helpfully grunted in response. Jaskier rolled his eyes and tried again. “Are you nervous about breaking the rules?”

Geralt frowned, that adorable little crease on his forehead deepening and Jaskier yearned to smooth it out with a press of his thumb, but alas the witcher remained grumpy and unobtainable. “They won’t know,” he huffed.

If Jaskier had been eating or drinking at that moment, then he certainly would have choked on it or spat it out all over the floor in his shock. As it was, he almost fell off the log he was perching on. “I’m sorry?”

“They’ll make assumptions. We won’t correct them.”

Jaskier was sure that his jaw would never leave the floor. “We. we won’t?”

“No.”

“Alrighty…”

An awkward silence fell over the camp. The crackling of the fire suddenly sounded louder than any tavern in Oxenfurt. Jaskier could hear every breath like a hurricane blowing through the camp, the howling of distant wolves clawing down his spine. What felt like hours was probably only seconds when the silence became too much to bear.

“Oh ho ho, no. No, no, no. No. I’m sorry. What the fuck, Geralt?”

Geralt sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I should have asked sooner.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking of me?” Jaskier peered suspiciously at the witcher, wringing his hands in his lap and flexing his fingers. He desperately wanted his lute, his notebook… something, anything.

“Just don’t correct them?”

Jaskier snorted. “Just don’t correct them?” he asked incredulously “Oh sure, it’s that simple. Geralt, my dear, you’re asking me to pretend I’m in love with you.”

Jaskier barely managed to conceal his flinch.

Pretend.

Hah!

If only it were that simple. He was a pretty decent actor, most graduates of Oxenfurt were, but to act like he was only pretending to be in love with Geralt? That would be perhaps his toughest role to date.

And it would fucking hurt. Especially since Geralt hadn’t seemed to have realised he would have to do the same.

“Fuck.”

Jaskier tilted his head at the witcher, brushing his fringe from his eyes, his hand shivering from the cold. The penny had apparently dropped; finally.

He smirked, “Well, I was thinking we’d only have to kiss but if you insist?”

Geralt growled and pushed him onto the floor.

____

That night had been a particularly awkward one. The biting cold meant that Jaskier had to curl up into Geralt’s side to prevent himself from freezing to death. Geralt would normally wrap his arms around Jaskier in his sleep, making it more comfortable for both of them. But when he woke Geralt was lying rigid next to him; only staying as close as absolutely necessary and nothing more.

They ate their breakfast in silence, with even Jaskier’s normal chatter and noise absent. Jaskier was starting to get really sick of silences but he knew that Geralt needed a chance to process. The witcher would only blow up in his face if he said something now. It was a struggle for both of them. Jaskier was always desperate to fill the silence. He never enjoyed being left alone with his own thoughts and chattering about everything and nothing helped to calm the anxiety inducing void, and yet he knew that Geralt sometimes needed time. He would normally be scribbling away in his notebook, or carving patterns into the dirt with his boots, anything to keep busy, keep moving. Instead, he tapped out silent lute fingerings on his leg beneath the cloak and chewed on his lip, only stopping when he tasted the sharp tang of blood.

It was only after they had packed up camp and been walking for a few minutes that Geralt finally spoke, seemingly calmed by Roach’s reins in his hand.

“We should plan.”

Jaskier, still shivering under his cloak, snorted; a cloud swirling in front of his face like he was some kind of draconid. “Plan?”

“Hmm.”

“Pray tell me, dear witcher, what are we planning?”

Geralt grunted, gesturing between them, a trace of a blush on his cheeks which utterly delighted Jaskier. The blush meant that Geralt could only mean one thing, and Jaskier was having a ball!

His grumpy, allergic to feelings, witcher wanted to plan how they were going to convince a keep full of witchers that they were not only dating but seriously involved. Geralt wanted to talk about it. That was a first. Perhaps the witcher was treating this like just another contract to prepare for. That thought made Jaskier’s heart clench in his chest.

Just another contract.

Fuck.

He plastered a bright smile on his face before Geralt could notice his inner turmoil and clapped his friend on the back. “What’s there to plan?” he asked cheerfully, voice full of fake camaraderie. “We’re pretending to be in love, should be easy! I’m a bard, a troubadour, a graduate of the famed Oxenfurt academy!”

“Jaskier, shut up.”

Jaskier gaped and shoved Geralt in the chest. “You wanted to talk, Geralt!”

“We need boundaries.”

Jaskier’s heart sank and his smile faltered. “Right, yes, of course. I was. I was joking, last night, when I said…”

“I know.”

“We probably will have to kiss though.” he mumbled, his cheeks were a blazing fire and he probably resembled a tomato. Hopefully Geralt would just think he was cold, which he really really was. Honestly, he was starting to think that he might never be warm again. What was heat anyway? He swallowed, digging his nails into his palm. “Maybe just on the cheek. Think your family will buy that?” Geralt shook his head. “Well… bollocks.”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier looked up at him with a sheepish smile. Geralt actually had the decency to look apologetic for the mess he’d gotten them into. “It’ll be just enough to convince them, nothing more.”

Nothing more. Of course it was nothing more. These were the boundaries that Geralt was talking about. He didn’t want Jaskier to think it was anything more than an act. Well, message received loud and clear! He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He should be ecstatic, finally a chance to kiss Geralt… but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what he wanted.

It wasn’t real.

Geralt grunted, his own hands were buried in Roach’s mane as they walked side by side up the perilous mountain. He paused suddenly and began fussing with Roach’s saddlebags. Jaskier wrapped his arms around himself, shuffling from one foot to another to keep moving. He had to keep moving or he might freeze to death. He could already feel his toes going numb and the perpetual stinging in his fingers. Oh he was definitely getting frostbite. He watched Geralt for a few moments. The witcher’s shoulders were tense and his jaw was clenched. Jaskier sighed and placed a hand on Geralt’s arm, enjoying the soft warmth that radiated from the witcher, letting it seep into his frozen bones.

“Do. Do you want to practice?”

“What?”

“Kissing,” Jaskier said with a flick of his wrist. “You want boundaries, so let’s practice. That way we’ll know what we’re comfortable with”

“You want to kiss me?” Geralt asked, brow furrowed and arms crossed in front of his chest.

Jaskier scoffed at Geralt’s emotionally constipated antics. He was nearly at his limit with stupid witchers and he hadn’t even reached Kaer Morhen yet. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

Jaskier poked Geralt in the chest. “You suggested it!” he pointed out “and I’m never going to refuse the opportunity to kiss such a gorgeous person. You, dear witcher, are no exception!” He hoped that Geralt would be fooled by his nonchalant flirting. He did this all the time in taverns and courts all around the Continent and Geralt had witnessed it on many occasions. This was just what Jaskier did, nothing out of the ordinary… nothing to worry about.

He swallowed, a bubble of fear rising up in his chest and he couldn’t calm his racing heart. Oh gods, this was really far too close to the truth.

Geralt just gave a hum but let go of Roach’s reins. He gripped Jaskier’s shoulder and cocked his head, giving Jaskier the fondest of smiles. “Last chance to back out, bard.”

Jaskier grinned, raising his chin. He had a stubborn streak that would serve him well here. He never could say no to a challenge. “Just kiss me, you coward.”

A lie. Geralt was no coward. If anyone were it would be Jaskier. He couldn’t even tell Geralt the true depth of his feelings. They were concealed in songs for the whole Continent to hear but he couldn’t tell the one person that really ought to know. It was pathetic, pining over his best friend for years and years instead of moving on or just… admitting the truth?

Luckily Jaskier’s joke seemed to break the tension between them. Geralt hummed and cupped his cheek with more tenderness than he’d expected. Chapped lips pressed against his, warm and gentle as Geralt’s thumb stroked his cheek, calloused fingers brushing against the stubble that was beginning to prickle up through his skin. Jaskier wasn’t sure where to put his hands. He yearned to cup the nape of Geralt’s neck, to pull his lover closer and never let go. In a more passionate affair, his hands would land on his partner’s arse, squeezing cheekily as the kiss deepened.

Jaskier wanted to cry. It was all so sweet, so perfect, and none of it was real. This was his fate. Like a character in one of his ballads, a flower doomed to wither away without the heart of his beloved.

But this was Geralt.

This was his friend.

He settled for holding onto Geralt’s waist, his fingers digging into the wool of Geralt’s cloak. The kiss was over all too soon, leaving his head spinning. He felt breathless, like all his soul had been poured into the kiss. He pulled back from Geralt’s embrace in a hopeless attempt to calm his beating heart, but it was too late. The damage was done. With a single kiss Geralt had ruined Jaskier for all other love. Before it had been pitiful yearning but now…

Gods…

He was utterly done for.

His fingers itched for his quill. Oh, the poems and ballads he could pull from just a single kiss. A buttercup crushed under the paws of a great wolf as he roamed through the forests. Okay, that one might be a tad obvious. He preferred to at least try and hide in plain sight.

A dandelion perhaps?

Geralt would never need to know that Jaskier had almost chosen a different flower as his namesake.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier blinked and looked up at Geralt. Normally Jaskier was able to pick up the most minute changes in Geralt’s expression and his eyes were usually an open book. The witcher’s face gave away nothing and it was bloody infuriating.

“That…. that went well?” he stammered, pulling at a loose thread in his cloak.

“Hmm. We’ll be fine,” Geralt turned from him, looking more and more like the Butcher of Blaviken of old, and less like Jaskier’s darling White Wolf. “It’s not long now. We should get going.”

And get going they did.

#the witcher #geraskier #fake dating #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #kaer morhen #wolfie's witcher writing

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers: Part 10 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

synopsis: reveal, don't conceal.

wc: 1.4k

tw: none

masterlist

"Come out one at a time with your hands up."

You stand idly by as the militia pulls people out of the SUVs; lingering behind Suguru as he watches the former members of the CSB kneel on the ground and be restrained with zip ties. When you see the familiar pink hair of Yuji Itadori, you start a little, eyes widening as he lays on the ground and is zip tied before being brought to his feet and made to kneel beside another comrade of his.

Of yours.

You can't see all of the faces, but the fact that Yuji made it out alive meant that he would try his best to get the others out alive. And that's enough for you.

A sea of about eighty people are kneeling on the cold floor of the aircraft hangar beside the main building, and every single one of them is restrained.

"Your entire organization has been burnt to the ground," Suguru begins. "And you come to me to get answers?" No one speaks. The implications of his words are enough to make everyone in the area gulp hard. "Why not ask your Grand Council?" Suguru wonders and chuckles from the guards echo around the room.

"We did," a voice - Nobara Kugisaki - calls out, and you raise onto the tips of your toes to try and see her. "but they sent us away without an answer."

"What about your leaders?"

Another silence.

"One of you tell me what truly happened. And be quick about it, my patience does not extend far."

"They sent..." Choso. "They sent in people we did not know to gun us down. We were all gathered in the Grand Hall, where we originally thought we would be informed about the next steps to take since we filed our grievances."

"And?"

"They told us to go to our barracks and wait for further instruction. The massacre started as soon as lights went out."

"It was so dark," someone cries out, sniffling. "They shot my partner before... before--" Various people begin to sob, and you grab Suguru's arm, looking over at the group sadly. Every single one of them had escaped from hell, and now they're here, looking to the both of you for help. Suguru peers over his shoulder at you, face set in a grim expression.

"Maybe we should give them some time before we ask them about everything," you whisper.

"The sooner we know as much as we can, the safer we'll be," he replies, turning back to the crowd in front of him. "All of those who work for us will be brought to the conference room. The rest of you will be given a good meal and put in temporary residences. You will be heavily guarded and watched. You will not be permitted to leave the Fallen Sun District until we have determined that everything is safe. Communication with your families that reside outside of the district will be cut off, and communication with the media will be punished. Guard set A, take those who are our agents. Guard set B, take the others away."

_____________________________________________________________

You sit beside Suguru in the conference room, arms crossed. You all look at the agents filing in, and Choso comes in as the last one - which isn't really a surprise - capping off the small crowd of ten double agents.

"I need details," Suguru states, and looks back at the person at the door, who nods and switches off the lights. A projector switches on, and an aerial map of the CSB headquarters comes on the whiteboard wall. "Where did the chaos begin? Where was Toji? Yuki? Gojo? And where are they now?"

"From the South Wing down to the Cafeteria, then the killers split up and took the East, North, and West Wing," someone mentions, and Suguru draws lines in accordance with the account.

"And the leaders of each faction?"

"Gojo disappeared long before the massacre began, but I know Toji orchestrated the attack," Choso answers.

"How?" you wonder, squinting your eyes. "And don't tell me you caught him talking about it in the open and said nothing."

"That's how it happened," Choso states grimly. "I'm the one who sent the email. I thought you would come and help us, Suguru." Suguru doesn't reply, staring at the aerial map and biting the inside of his cheek. "Those people died because you didn't come to help us. Do you know how many bodies I had to crawl over just to get to freedom? How many people had been shot down in their beds?"

"You know I know what that's like," Suguru replies tersely. "You know I know what it's like to have no fucking help."

"Then why? Why did you let us be slaughtered like animals, Suguru? Why couldn't you just do the right thing and come and help us? You put us in that mess! And you left us to die!" Choso stands up suddenly and produces a revolver from the inside of his coat, and points it at you. Guards instantly unholster their weapons and aim them at Choso, red lights pointed at his entire body.

"Don't shoot!" you cry out, hands up. "Don't shoot him!"

"Is it because of her?" Choso wonders, eyes empty and devoid of compassion. "Did she tell you to stay put?"

"Don't shoot!" you repeat, bullets of sweat running down your body inside of the vest. "Don't shoot."

"She told me to go and get you." Suguru finally answers, his own weapon pointed at Choso. "She wanted to save everyone's life."

"And why didn't you?" Choso whispers, gun still aimed at you.

"Because I didn't have time. And I didn't have the resources. You, out of everyone here, should know I would put my life on the line for my people when I can." Choso chokes out a sob, dropping the gun and collapsing onto the floor in a fit of tears. His piercing cries echo in the small room, and you rush to his side, holding him close to you. He sobs into your shoulder, whispering apologies and shaking furiously.

"Don't apologize," you whisper, rubbing his back slowly and methodically. "It's okay. You've been through a lot, and just need to rest."

_____________________________________________________________

"I'm going to the media to break the story," you mention, facing Suguru as he brushes his teeth.

"What?" he cries out, mouth full of white foam. "No. You're not going anywhere. Too risky."

"Send a guard with me, then."

"No." He spits into the sink, and you cross your arms, frowning. "I'm not giving you permission to do that. If Toji pops up, you're fucked. I'm not taking that chance."

"So you can't leak an interview with me? Like the ones we recovered from the Archives?" Suguru braces himself on the sink, hair falling down his face and shielding his expression from view.

"Babe," Suguru breathes, sighing and shaking his head. "It's possible."

"I'll tell my story. I'll leave you out of it."

"You can't tell your story without me," Suguru whispers, tying his hair back with the rubber band around his wrist. "Do you think we should get other stories corroborating ours?"

"Yes," you answer immediately. "A thousand times, yes." Suguru's onyx eyes drop to the sink, and you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his large frame. "Do you trust me?"

He places his hands on yours and nods slowly.

"I trust you," he murmurs. "And I love you."

"I love you, too."

Four hours later, you're sitting in front of a camera, eyes staring into the lens with the intensity of your mother and father's expressions in their own videos.

"Ready?" Suguru wonders, leaning over and touching your hand from behind the camera.

"Ready." He clicks the record button, and a red light begins to flash.

"My name is Y/n, and I am a former Kitsune. Over seven months ago, I began my career with the CSB, and since my time there, I have learned so much about their inner workings, their scandal coverups, and how they tried to end my life not too long ago." You swallow hard, tears coming to your eyes. But you inhale deeply, pushing the emotion down as far as it will go. "You may have heard that I was kidnapped by those who run the Fallen Sun district. But that is simply not true," you assert, shaking your head once. "Everything you know about the CSB is a lie."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru

[amphxtrite]

spencer reid x reader

chapter 2 • coffee or tea?

series summary: a new case brings the BAU to New York, investigating a string of murders involving girls who appear very similar. The unsub is relentless, desperate to fill the needs of his fantasy. In the midst of it, spencer meets the girl he been writing with, but had yet to see, prompting a love to blossom in the midst of the storm. Is disaster inevitable? Or will the duplicator’s rein fall?

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, murder, mainly fluff this chapter

chapter summary: the investigation continues, but the team is in dire need of rest after a late night of work. Spencer makes a call to the reader and a plan is put in place to meet, the only question Spencer will have to answer today is a simple one, coffee or tea?

taglist: @le-weasley-simp @thatsonezesty13 @paperandplasma @padsfirewhisky @clubfairy @kiramdd @peach-cliquee @goldeng1rl8​ (message/comment to be added)

word count: 5.7k

“Hotch here.” The unit chief’s voice states, raising his cell to his ear.

“Hey Hotch, this guy’s a romantic, he’s leaving roses and quotes from books at the scenes, we’ve found two already.” Rossi’s voice sounds through the phone.

“Roses? You don’t think-” 

“Yeah I do, he’s keeping them to try and make them fall in love with him.” Rossi sighs.

“But he’s angry, can’t handle the rejection for long.” Hotch finishes, nodding to himself. “Thanks Rossi, if you find anything else let me know.” He chimes, hanging up the phone and going to find JJ.

“Agent Hotchner!” A voice calls to the profiler, prompting him to turn.

“Yes that’s me.” He responds.

“Sorry, I’m Detective Dakota Trent, I’m also working on the case with Detective Kimathi, she’s just at the crime scene.” A brunette with close cropped hair greets the agent, shaking his hand.

“Good, have we come up with anything new yet?” Hotch asks, following Detective Trent to the interrogation rooms.

“Well we’ve talked to both Olivia’s fiancee and Georgia’s boyfriend. They’ve both got solid alibis and people to back up their claims, it’s not them.” Detective Trent shrugs.

“Have you heard about the roses yet?” Hotch questions, examining each of every person’s movements behind the glass.

“Yeah, Kimathi called me just before I found you, we’ve got a romantic serial killer?” They ask.

“What he’s experiencing probably isn’t love, it’d be impossible for him to feel it. My guess is this is an obsession over someone he’s lost or been rejected by.” Hotch explains. Detective Tent nods and points to another direction.

“Agent Jareau just finished interviewing Georgia’s family, you can find her through there.” They smile, Hotch thanks them and steps through.

The unit chief walks down a hallway and peers past each door until he finds the blonde sitting in an empty room; going over the case file again. 

“How are the families?” Hotch asks, stepping in.

“Torn apart.” JJ sighs, closing the file and leaning against the wall behind her. “Olivia’s mom just had enough in her to clear Alice, then she broke down into tears. Isabelle’s parents had it worse though; she was an only child, a miracle one too, her mother had troubles conceiving.” She continues. 

“And Georgia’s parents.” Hotch questions.

“Tried to be strong, but-” JJ pauses. “They could barely look at each other, let alone me.” She concludes sadly.

“Have any of them given any possible suspects?”

“Lots, mainly ‘strange’ ex boyfriends, but I had Garcia check them out and they’re clean.” The blonde shrugs, standing and following Hotch back out.

“They’ve given us a room to set up in, When Spencer gets back I want you to help him come up with a geographic profile.” Hotch nods, opening a door to a room filled with whiteboards and a large table.

“You got it, and maybe ask them to bring a coffee machine in, we’re gonna be up for a while.” JJ giggles, opening the case file again and placing the pictures of each scene up on the whiteboard.

“Hey we’re back from the ME, toxicology found ketamine in both victim one and two.” Prentiss states, opening the door to the board room with Spencer in tow.

“But not victim number three, does that mean he’s devolving?” JJ questions.

“Or she was a victim of opportunity, he couldn’t pass up the chance so he took her.” Spencer includes, shrugging his shoulders, and taking a seat next to JJ after seeing the map in front of her.

“Again it’s hard to know, but Morgan and Rossi found flowers at two of the dump sites so far.” Hotch tells Prentiss and Reid.

“Flowers?” Emily asks.

“A note too, some quotes about finding true love, we’re hoping you could help us with them kid.” Rossi suddenly chimes from behind the group, seeming disgusted at the thought of it. “We found the third one by the way, hidden in some bushes by the bridge.” 

“What did the cards say, Rossi?” Spencer questions, removing his gaze from the map.

“The first one said ‘I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life.’ Second one said ‘He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.’ Third one said ‘Do I love you? My god, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.” Rossi lists reading off his tablet.

“All of those have to do with love alright, this unsub is absolutely infatuated with the idea of finding his true love.” JJ notes, looking at her own tablet.

“Maybe this unsub has some form of erotomania? Thinking all these girls love him, so he kidnaps them only for them to ruin his fantasy?” Derek suggests, fiddling with a pen in his hands.

“It would make sense why he’s keeping the girls only to kill them, and why they’re fed while he’s holding them.” Prentiss adds, looking to Spencer who looks deep in thought..

“Well now that we know more let’s get to work, we’ll deliver the profile in the morning so every officer can hear.” Hotch states, glancing out the window at the sky which had faded to an eerie black.

“I’ve got it!” Spencer suddenly exclaims. The team looks to him curiously.

“The first quote was from Atonement by Ian McEwan, the second quote was from Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, and the last one was from The Princess Bride by William Goldman!” He explains, standing from his seat and writing each quote on the whiteboard.

“These are all famous quotes about love, some of my favourite books too. This unsub is educated, definitely enough to read classic literature-”

“Wait Spence, the other two I can get, but you’ve read The Princess Bride?” JJ asks, excitement lacing her tone.

“Um yes, I saw it at the library so I decided I’d read it.” Spencer murmurs, turning to the whiteboard again to hide the hitch in his voice. The truth was it was another book you had practically begged him to read, he couldn’t say no. Spencer would have never guessed it would have aided him in a case.

“Oh Spence, I love that book too, you should come over and watch the movie with me and Henry, I’ve been meaning to show him.” JJ continues.

Spencer sighs in relief. “Yeah that sounds good JJ.”

---

“You’ve got to be joking.” A tired voice chimes from outside the door.

Hotch glances up at the voice, JJ inhales deeply as she wakes up, Prentiss and Spencer both take long sips from their coffee cups and Derek snores in his seat.

“Can we help you Detective Trent?” Hotch asks, turning to face them. Dakota doesn’t miss the dark bags under the unit chief’s eyes.

“Yes as a matter of fact, go to sleep!” Dakota smiles in a sickly sweet manner.

“I don’t think-”

“They’re right Hotch, you know we aren’t much help dead tired.” Rossi practically pleads.

“I could use some solid food too.” Emily adds, swirling around what remained of her fourth cup of coffee that night.

“You guys have a hotel for a reason, pretty much every other officer is either patrolling or at home, get some rest and we’ll see you in the morning.” Dakota smirks, waving the team off and heading towards the exit.

Hotch sighs and rubs his eyelids, feeling the relief of closing them before opening them again.

“Derek, Derek wake up!” JJ mutters, tapping on Morgan’s shoulder until he finally slumps forward, awake.

“Is it morning yet?” He grumbles.

“No, but we’re heading to the hotel now, and getting food.” JJ smiles, watching Derek perk up at the mention of something to eat. “What’s everyone in the mood for?” She asks, turning to everyone.

“M’ good with anything.” Rossi yawns, leaning against the door frame.

“There’s a shawarma place close to the hotel?” Spencer proposes, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the joint.

The team nods in agreement, shaking the tiredness off to walk back to the hotel.

Spencer enjoyed moments like this, when his team didn’t have to focus on a case for just a few moments, where he could let his mind rest for a minute.

“Hey player, meet any lovely New York ladies yet?” Derek chuckles throwing his arm over Spencer’s shoulder.

Scratch that, this is not what he had in mind.

“Nope.” He responds plainly.

“Right, right… What about that lady you’ve been writing too?” Derek teases, watching Spencer avert his gaze to the sky.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He murmurs. Derek’s smile grows.

“A mystery woman, Spencer I didn’t think you had it in you? Is she older? Rich maybe?” Derek lists playfully as Spencer rolls his eyes.

“Sorry Derek, maybe you’re just thinking too much.” Spencer shrugs, digging his hands into his pockets and sighing.

“Alright, I’ll back off.” Derek sighs, lifting his hands in mock surrender, only half telling the truth.

“Take a left here.” Spencer nods, pointing to a dimly lit building. “The shop is down there.” Spencer nods.

“I’ll go with the genius, you guys head back to the hotel.” Derek says, waving off the tired agents as he pushes Spencer forward towards the store. 

“Hey Morgan, do you mind if I call Garcia, I’ll meet you inside.” Spencer smiles as they reach their destination. 

Derek thinks nothing of it and nods, turning to swing open the door and order.

Spencer sighs and glances to both sides before turning and walking in the direction of the payphone. He had chosen this spot not only for convenience sake, but because there was a payphone right outside. It had been a while since Spencer had heard from you, and he felt bad not being able to read your letters.

Taking a deep breath he steps into the phone booth and dials your number.

“Thank you for subscribing to Lynn’s cat shop. Would you like to hear a fact about cat paws?” Your distinct voice chimes from the other end of the line.

“Well I do already know quite a bit, but hit me.” Spencer jokes back, smiling when he hears your audible gasp.

“Dr. Reid!” You laugh, sitting up straight from your lying position in bed.

“Hey what happened to cat facts?” Spencer teases gently, leaning against the side of the booth.

“I thought it was a spam call!” You justify, looking at the number again. “Hey Doc, this is a New York number-” You say slowly, putting two and two together. “You’re here! Are you on a case?”

“Yes actually.” Spencer replies with a soft smile. 

“Is it about that ‘duplicator’ guy I’m seeing on the news?”

“Yes, but don’t worry we’re doing well with the profile, and he’s only killing people that fit his victimology.” Spencer reassures you.

You remain quiet for a moment.

“Y/n? Are you still there?” Spencer asks, eyebrows drawing together at your sudden silence.

“Oh yeah, s-sorry Doc. Hey if you’re up for it, we could- meet up?” You ask, turning the conversation and popping the ‘p.’

“O-Oh.” Spencer stammers, caught off guard by your sudden proposition. “I-I mean I do have to work on the case…” Spencer sighs.

“But?” You plead, leaning into your phone.

“I can meet you earlier? Six am maybe?” Spencer offers quietly, feeling his voice break.

“Ooh you’re pushing it Doctor Reid, but I’ll manage.” You tease.

“Great! Great, um where do you want to meet?” Spencer asks, relief showing through his voice.

“There’s a park beside campus, my favourite spot is the field beside the cafe.” You smirk, dropping a not-so subtle hint.

“I-I’ll be there! Yeah See you then!” Spencer mutters in an excited tone.

“Sounds like a plan. Bye Spence!” You say in a sing-song voice before hanging up.

There it was again, Spence. No matter how many times he’s heard his name before, there was something special about you saying his name. Something that made him feel good.

“Spence…” He murmurs to himself, hanging the phone up and walking into the shawarma shop.

“Bout time pretty boy, what were you even calling about.” Derek asks, as he takes a bite from his wrap.

“Just checking if forensic found anything on the flowers yet.” Reid lies coolly.

“Anything?” Derek says in a muffled voice, throwing a wrap to the brunette.

“Not yet.” Spencer says in a slight yelp, just catching it before it falls.

“Oh well, it’ll probably be there in the morning.” Derek shrugs, picking up the bagged wraps. “Thanks again.” Derek waves to the owner before exiting the store.

“Did you know the origin of the word shawarma comes from the Turkish word çevirme, which means ‘turning’ which makes sense because of the-”

“Just enjoy the food pretty boy, just enjoy it.” Derek sighs, pushing the Shawarma up against Spencer’s mouth.

“Mm-” The younger agent protests, pushing his face back and snatching his shawarma back.

“Hurry up genius, the team is waiting.” Derek laughs.

The brunette rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but speeds up his walk beside his friend anyways.

---

Spencer wakes up to the sound of an alarm in his ear and without skipping a beat he sits up and throws his covers off, careful not to wake Derek sleeping in the bed next to him.

Slowly, he picks up his bag and tip toes to the bathroom, glancing at his watch, the time reads 5:00 am, still dark out. Spencer nods to himself.

Pulling on a white collared shirt and a black- no, black was too formal. Maybe red instead? No, this isn’t a date… “Blue.” Spencer murmurs, placing the tie around his neck and tying it slowly, being sure not to mess up. “Hi I’m Doc- no wait, hi I’m Spencer.” The brunette murmurs to himself as he ties his shoes. Spencer curses himself for only bringing converses and striped socks, but his jeans covered most of it to his relief.

“Hi I’m Spencer-”

“Spence, who are you talking to this early in the morning?” Derek’s drowsy voice groans from his spot in bed.

“I’m heading out early, I’ll see you later Morgan!” Spencer calls, pulling on his jacket to fend off the cool November air and swinging his bag over his shoulder so he could head back to the police department afterwards.

Stepping off the elevator, the hotel was practically empty, Spencer sighs in relief, he must have looked like a psycho constantly fixing his hair and tie. 

He exits the front door into the windy New York outdoors, suddenly regretting not wearing his scarf, but regardless, pushing on.

tousled brown hair swaying in the wind, Spencer checks himself in the glass of a building beside him, licking his chapped lips and swiveling his head back to the pavement ahead of him, careful not to bump into anyone.

Taking another turn, Spencer sees the sign for your university campus and feels his heart begin to race.

All of his thoughts began to jumble. What was his name again? Where was he going? A sudden squawk from a crow brings him back to himself, but his hot face and racing heart were impossible to shake.

As he grows closer to the coffee shop you mentioned to him, he begins to stumble, his feet beginning to fail him. He’s able to play it off as a funny walk, but when he spots the coffee shop, and beside it, the field. He completely stops.

A man grunts behind him, cursing at Spencer before turning and walking around him.

“Sorry.” Spencer murmurs, walking to the side of the pavement before crossing the street quickly.

Glancing down at his wrist again, his watch reads 5:45. Great, now he just had to sit and wait-

“What?”

Spencer’s thoughts are cut short when his vision is cut off by something...warm. Hands.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone-” A sweet voice whispers in his ear.

The melodic voice from across the phone, it was you!

“W-We find it with another.” He stammers out, smiling as he hears your laughter.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, finally we meet.” You sigh, removing your hands from his face and dropping them at your sides.

“Y-Y/n-” Spencer says, turning to face you. 

He freezes for a moment as his eyes adjust to the light again. Then his jaw drops.

“Y-You’re…” Spencer’s eyes follow your y/h/c hair, jawline, eye shape and height. 

“No, no, no, no.” Spencer murmurs, glancing from side to side, overanalyzing every single person in your vicinity.

This was impossible. So, so impossible, yet there you were. Your description matched those girls perfectly, yet here you were out in the open talking to him. You weren’t safe.

“I-I know Doc, but it’s okay, I’ve got my pepper spray and everything!” You reassure Spencer, squeezing his hand gently.

“Y/n, y-you fit this unsub’s type, you can’t just be out here like this it’s not safe!” Spencer snaps, pulling his jacket off by the sleeves and swinging it over your head to hide you.

Your eyes widen and Spencer’s stomach fills with dread.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. I just want you to be safe.” Spencer explains, lowering his voice and leaning closer to you.

“It’s alright Spence. I knew the risk, but I just wanted to see you.” You mutter, crossing your arms and sighing.

“Hey, you- you finished Love and Living.” Spencer smiles softly, remembering the quote you whispered to him when you covered his eyes.

“Yeah, it just kind of stuck with me. Thomas Merton can really write.” You smirk, nodding your head a little.

“Well I certainly prefer him over J.C?” Spencer asks, sarcastically tilting his chin.

“J.K, but you already knew that.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“I did?” Spencer jokes, eyes widening when he finally realizes how close the two of you are to each other, his eyes shyly draw downwards.

“Ahem?” You smirk. “Eyes up here Doc.” 

“O-Oh it’s not like that, I swear.” Spencer rushes, quickly looking back up in panic.

“Hey Spence! I’m just teasing, it’s alright.” You stammer in a hushed tone, gently moving your hands to cup Spencer’s face as reassurance.

The hits just kept coming today. Spencer internally trembles, but nods, darting his tongue out again to hide his quivering lip.

“Hey, since we’re both just standing here, do you want to grab something to eat?” You shrug, awkwardly retreating your hands to your chest.

There it was again, the sound of his name on your voice.

“C-Coffee?” Spencer sputters. “How about coffee?” Spencer repeats, clearing his voice and moving his hands from your shoulders to his sides.

“Yeah, coffee sounds great Doc.” You nod, taking Spencer’s hand and pulling him forwards.

“I’ve been going to this place since my first year here, amazing coffee, tea, and even seasonal sodas.” You gush, squeezing his hand and opening the door to the local shop.

“Any idea of what you want to order?” You ask, turning to face the brunette and shifting his jacket from your head to your arms.

“Uh, regular coffee is fine?” Spencer’s voice comes out almost as a question, he feels himself growing timid at the size of the menu.

“I’ll tell Choi ssi to surprise you.” 

Spencer nods, his lips pulling up into a line.

“Ah if it isn’t my favourite little boba pearl, what can I get for you today?” A man in his late forties calls to you with a smile. “And who might this be?” Mr. Choi motions to Spencer.

“Choi ssi, I’d like you to meet my Doc.” You smile. Spencer feels his face heat up at ‘my’

“I-I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He explains, nodding to the man behind the counter.

“I’m Viktor Choi, and Doctor? Wow, how old are you kid?” Mr. Choi questions in slight awe.

“Twenty five.” Spencer answers plainly, shrugging his shoulders.

Viktor’s jaw drops.

“Yeah I get that a lot, are we gonna order now?” Spencer blurts, turning back to you.

“Yeah of course. I’ll have my boba, and Doc-” You pause, tapping Spencer on the chest. “Would like to be surprised.” You smirk.

“Oh adventurous.” Choi smirks back to you, raising his eyebrows. You nod.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow, feeling something strange was awaiting him.

“Oh you’ll love it!” You smile, placing a paper bill on the counter and pulling Spencer towards a table.

From the shake of Mr. Choi’s head and your small smirk, Spencer made an educated guess you gave him more than what was expected.

“Here.” You point to an empty table beside one of the large windows that wrapped around the shop.

“A window seat.” Spencer smirks, sitting in the chair across from you.

“What, you have a profiler fact for me?” You tease.

“Well, people who prefer window seats are more selfish and easily irritable.” Spencer shrugs feeling his smile widen. 

“Hey I just like to feel the sun.” You protest, looking out into the busy traffic not too far from you.

“I see.” Spencer smirks, glancing over to see you gazing into the sunlight.

Spencer is caught off guard at first, beauty isn’t usually a thing he notices, but it would be impossible for him not to admire you.

Your e/c eyes seemed to glow in the sunrise, your hair shined and your smile grew and seemed to shine brighter than the sun could ever be, figuratively though, obviously. 

Strange, Spencer felt his hands clam up and heart began to race again.

“Order for miss boba and her doc!” Mr. Choi calls, drawing both yours and Spencer’s attention.

“You seemed like a coffee kind of guy.” He shrugs as you bring the two drinks back to your table.

Spencer smiles in acknowledgement before looking down at what looked to be a simple coffee with a rim of milk foam and- Spencer furrows his eyebrows, chocolate shavings.

“Don’t be deceived, his coffee packs a punch.” You smirk, stirring your drink with the straw poking out of it.

“Good.” Spencer nods, drawing a laugh from you, as he lifts the mug to his lips and blows on the hot liquid, finally getting a taste.

The first thing that hits Spencer is the sweetness, just the right amount that made him smile as he drank it. The next was how rich it is, practically gliding over his tongue like melted chocolate, of course just not as viscous. 

You must have noticed a change in his demeanor because you begin to giggle to yourself.

You couldn’t help it, the look on Spencer’s face was too good not to notice.

His eyes widened, brows raised to his hairline and he tilted the cup higher in an instant to get more.

“Adorable.” You sigh to yourself, not realizing you had said it out loud until Spencer suddenly chokes on his drink.

“Oh my god, Spence are you alright?” You worry, holding a napkin to his chin as drops of coffee spill past his lips. 

The brunette nods, bringing the drink back down onto the table to see he had already drunken half of it.

“It’s good right?” You grin, pulling the napkin away but not moving back just yet.

Spencer nods, already feeling a buzz, but unsure if it was from the coffee or your sudden proximity, or you calling him adorable.

His ears felt as though they were burning, and this time he couldn’t blame the coffee.

Timidly glancing up, it seemed as though you could say the same for your cheeks.

Spencer lifts his mug up again to take another sip of his beverage, clearing his throat a bit before speaking again.

“I-If it makes you feel any better, I find you rather endearing, myself.” Spencer says just above a whisper, too nervous to look you back in the eye.

“Thank you Spencer.” You smile, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest and in your face.

Without thinking you look up and tilt Spencer’s chin back up to face you. His eyes read amazement and sheepishness, prompting a giggle from you.

Usually Spencer would have pushed the hand touching him away, ready to list facts about germs to make sure no one in the general vicinity would try that again. But there was something about his racing heart and your gentle hands that smelt of lavender, that made it impossible for any words to come out at all, he barely wanted to move.

“Hey Doc, do you feel like going for a walk?” You ask, stroking your thumb down Spencer’s cheek to catch his attention again. 

“Yeah, yeah a walk.” Spencer glances down at his watch, 6:24.

“I have to be back at the station for seven, but I can walk you back to your dorm?” Spencer offers, half suggesting it just to make sure you got back safely.

“What a gentleman.” You smirk standing and prompting Spencer to follow you. “You can drop the cup off at the counter over there.” You say, Spencer nods, standing and placing the mug at the counter for an employee to sweep it away in seconds.

“Now come on, we’ve still got time for me to give you a little tour.” You grin, putting a bit too much emphasis on little.

To the profiler’s surprise, you take his hand into yours as you wave goodbye to Mr. Choi.

“Bye my little boba pearl and Dr. Boyfriend!” He shouts out to you and Spencer as you exit the door. Spencer doesn’t even have time to sputter out a correction before you’re pulling him towards your campus. 

“Isn’t he the best! He and his husband have been running that place for years, the best coffee in the city if you ask me.” You chuckle, slowing your speed to a steady walk beside Spencer.

“Yeah, we should go again sometimes.” Spencer shrugs, finally closing his hands around yours, growing accustomed to the feeling.

“D-Did you know that multiple studies, including one conducted at the University of California Los Angeles, show that human touch triggers the release of oxytocin, in our brain. Oxytocin is-” 

“A neurotransmitter that increases feelings of trust, generosity and compassion, and decreases feelings of fear and anxiety, aka the love hormone.” You finish, smiling up at him reassuringly.

You knew Spencer began listing off random facts when he felt he’d made an atmosphere awkward. You’d started noticing these cues once the two of you began talking on the phone, so you made sure to ensure everything was fine to him. 

“Yeah, t-that’s the one.” Spencer mutters.

The brunette was always cut off while he tried to explain a statistic or fact. He knew it was never to hurt him in any way, but it still got frustrating for him when he was talked over.

When you cut him off on the other hand,  it is to finish his sentence and complete the fact. He was starting to see why so many people found this gesture romantic.

Your smile grows as you notice Spencer’s eyes downcast on your hands.

Rounding the corner deeper into your campus, you stop at a couple spots to tell Spencer more about your school life and how your studies were going.

“I can’t believe I’m really graduating this year.” You sigh dreamily, looking up into the sky.

“Do you have any ideas where you may want to work?” Spencer asks as you lead him to a fountain in the centre of a field.

“Well, not exactly, but I’ve still got time to decide.” You grin, digging into your pocket for something Spencer couldn’t see.

“You know the BAU will always be an option.” Spencer shrugs, watching you pull out a shiny quarter.

“I dunno doc. All that stuff might not be for me.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment before flipping the coin into the water of the fountain.

“Yeah I guess serial killers and psychopaths aren’t everyone's cup of tea.” Spencer says seriously, causing you to break out in a fit of giggles.

“Do you believe in wishes coming true Spence?” You continue laughing, pulling Spencer in the direction of your dorm.

Spencer’s head snaps up at his name, but his eyebrows furrow.

“Well the act of throwing valuables into water hasn’t always been for wishing, it used to be for worshipping gods and other deities, but as the years went by it became popularized to wish for things by throwing something of value into the basic fundamental of human life.” Spencer pauses looking to you apologetically.

“It’s okay Spence, I’m listening.” You smile.

“Oh okay- First used to honour gods, people began asking for favours such as a good harvest or for a loved one to get well from a sickness which is where wishing wells came from.” Spencer nods, squeezing your hand as a silent ‘thank you.’

“So to answer my question-” You draw on, looking curiously into Spencer’s hazel eyes.

“While there’s no sound science to prove anything, I don’t see why people can’t have something to believe in, as long as they understand if it doesn’t come true.” Spencer shrugs, stopping when you do, outside a large building.

“So I’ll take that as a yes, but.” You smirk.

“I suppose, besides sometimes the wishes do come true out of pure coincidence, but you can never say that.” Spencer shrugs.

“It sounds like you speak from experience.” You laugh, nudging him in the side.

“My friend Penelope wished I’d get my haircut, but didn’t tell me until I did, three months later.” Spencer chuckles.

Both of you knew you were supposed to say goodbye now, if you remained just standing there any longer you’d become a problem for sleep-deprived students. Not a good mix.

But neither of you could find the will to move, your hands stayed interlocked and your smiles remained as Spencer began talking more about a couple books and some more facts about wishing wells.

“Y/n?” A loud voice calls to you from afar. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The voice chimes again, slowly getting closer.

“Oh I’m sorry Adira, I was meaning to tell you.” You apologize, letting go of Spencer’s hand to turn around and speak to the person calling you.

For a minute Spencer forgot how to function his hand, he just sort of hovered it in the air for a second, before regaining his train of thought and dropping his hand back to his side and turning.

“I’ve been worried sick y/n, you haven’t been answering your phone and with that ‘duplicator’ guy running around-” Adira begins, cutting off to wrap her arms around you. “Don’t do that again, please.”

“Alright, I’m sorry Adira, but I had a friend with me, see.” You smile, turning her to face Spencer.

“Hello.” Spencer greets awkwardly, placing his hands into his pockets and nodding.

“Wait he sounds just like-” Adira pauses. “That’s Doc?” They pause, jaw dropping as she begins tugging on your sleeve.

“Yes- that’s him.” You smile, tapping on her hand to try and get her to stop before your face overheats.

“Okay okay!” Adira laughs, rolling her eyes as she fixes her headscarf and extends her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, y/n has not stopped talking about you since you started writing to each other-”

“Adira!” You intervene, bringing your hand to your face to hide your blush.

“Wow you’re even cuter than the photo-”

“Okay, we still have that project to work on right, let’s go.” You laugh nervously, pushing Adira towards the door of your dorm room as she remembers something.

“Oh right, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Perfect, we’ll finish it up when we get inside.” You smile.

“Nice jacket by the way, where’d you get it?” Adira comments, poking the black suit jacket on your arm, and then back again at Spencer standing in a collared shirt and tie.

“Y/n!” She laughs teasingly, turning around and grabbing a hold of your shoulders.

“I’ll head in on my own, now have fun, but not too much fun.” She smirks, pushing you back towards Spencer before walking into the building and throwing you a wink.

“I-I’m-”

“There’s no need to apologize, I’m rather flattered you talk about me.” Spencer shrugs, looking down at the ground subtly.

“Well of course I do, you’ve become a big part of my life y’know.” You smile, taking Spencer’s large hands into yours.

Spencer smiles fondly, hiding the internal regret he held, the profiler had yet to tell any of his friends about you, wanting to have this one thing for himself in his twisted world.

Squeezing your hands, Spencer nods and glances down at his watch.

“I should get back to the station.” The brunette murmurs.

“You should get back to the station.” You reply, loosening your grip only for Spencer to pull you back.

“I-I’m happy I got to meet you by the way, please call me if you need anything, or just to talk.” Spencer pushes his lips back in a forced smile, he was reluctant to leave you alone.

“I will Spence. Catch that guy for me alright?” You smirk, wrapping Spencer in a short hug before shrugging off his jacket, placing it over Spencer’s shoulders and turning to finally walk into the building.

Spencer barely had time to react to your gesture, but while he processed it, he simply stood there. It was as though you had left an imprint of yourself on him, a reminder you were real, and really held him. He was truly awestruck.

His suit jacket held the faintest scent of your perfume, the feeling of your arms lingered on his torso and his hands still reached for yours though you were long gone.

This feeling was foreign to the brunette, but not rejected. Spencer quite enjoyed it after all.

After a few moments of not moving the brunette finally picks up his feet and turns to leave, not noticing the figure not too far away clenching his fists so hard, blood begins to trickle slowly out.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader series #spencer reid x you #spencer read x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds series #criminal minds x reader series

[idnek83]

Wait, You Can Do What? Chapter 2/?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Hajime Hinata/Soda Kazuichi

Words: 5,468 

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot (maybe a little plot if you squint), Trans Soda Kazuichi, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining (a little bit), Vaginal Fingering, Shower Sex, Shower Head Stimulation, Roommates, Wet & Messy (Soda is just super wet the whole time), afab language, Friends to Lovers, (well it's really more like idiots to lovers), 69 (Sex Position), Oral Sex, Face-Fucking, Squirting  

Summary: Hajime got some negative feedback from his most recent hookup apparently, and is looking for a way to improve his next performance.

Chapter: 1, 2

Read on Ao3

_____________________  

It had been two weeks since the dye incident, and while Soda was enjoying his new neon pubes, he couldn’t help but be disappointed that the dye hadn’t gotten messed up.

He was having a hard time coming up with a new excuse to get Hajime to touch him.

“Later.”

Hajime had said he would fuck Soda later, and he had been replaying that promise every night since.

Wait, was it a promise?

Do things you say when you’re super horny and knuckle deep in your best friend’s pussy count as promises?

Hajime laughed and shifted against him, pulling Soda from his train of thought.

They were sitting on Hajime’s bed, leaning back against the wall and watching some shitty comedy on Soda’s laptop. About 10 minutes in Hajime had leaned over and rested his head on Soda’s shoulder, and Soda had pretty much just been thinking about his dick since then.

Soda tried to rein himself in and focus on the movie to get his mind out of the gutter, only to find the main characters in a heated debate about the proper way to eat pussy.

Yeah, his mind was definitely staying in the gutter.

“Y’know…” Hajime shifted to sit a little straighter, head no longer on Soda’s shoulder, but arm still pressed firmly against him. “I was eating out this girl the other day, and she told me afterwards that I kinda sucked at it.”

Soda laughed to cover up the way his stomach dropped at the thought of Hajime sleeping with someone else. It wasn’t like they were an item or anything, and Soda was already well aware of the fact that Hajime enjoyed the occasional hookup, but now that Soda actually knew what he was missing out on, it was a lot harder to act like he didn’t care about Hajime sleeping with other people.

Hajime gave Soda a look that seemed… disappointed somehow, before continuing with what he was saying.

“Yeah yeah, dude, laugh it up, but going down on someone with different junk from you is hard! I’m like the king of sucking dick, but pussy is confusing, man!”

I could probably make it less confusing for you.

Soda couldn’t stop himself from imagining Hajime with his head buried between his legs, nor could he stop himself from thinking he could make that thought into a reality if he just played his cards right here…

“I mean, how hard can it be, dude? You just gotta like… suck on the clit? Maybe get some fingers up in there? Sounds easy enough to me.”

“First of all, it’s definitely a little more complicated than that. Secondly, going down on someone isn’t just about getting them off, you virgin, it’s about making it good.”

“Well getting off sounds pretty good to me.” He hadn’t really meant to say it out-loud, but the way Hajime laughed and bumped up against him was definitely worth the momentary embarrassment.

“Look, think of it this way, if you’re fucking someone do you really just want to get them off? Or do you wanna get them off and hear them moaning and calling your name and shit?”

Soda took a moment to imagine what Hajime would sound like moaning his name.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Soda took the opportunity to imagine some of the other sounds Hajime might make with Soda’s lips wrapped around his cock. His pussy was definitely enjoying the thought of those noises, he could feel himself getting wetter by the second.

“What’re you thinking about? Your face is red as hell.” Hajime was smirking at him, barely holding back laughter.

“Nothing, fuck you.”

Hajime chuckled and shifted so he was lying with his head in Soda’s lap.

Soda felt himself blush harder.

“Still caught up on the moaning thing? I don’t blame you, it’s pretty hot.” Hajime looked up at Soda for a moment, seemingly considering something. “That’s why I want to get better at eating pussy.”

Soda swallowed around a lump in his throat.

“Huh, guess you need someone to like… give you feedback…”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of a mood killer to be like ‘hey, while I’m going down on you mind giving me constructive criticism and filling out this survey’ with like a random hook up, dude.”

“Maybe don’t do it in such an awkward way then, dude.” Soda couldn’t help but laugh. “But yeah, it’d probably be easier to do with someone you, uh, know?”

“Yeah…”

There was an awkward silence, Soda wasn’t sure if this was actually going where he hoped it was going, or if he was just thinking with his dick.

“Hey, uh… has anyone ever gone down on you before, dude?”

Oh shit, okay, maybe this was going the way he hoped. Okay, fuck, now he just had to not fuck it up. Just gotta respond and say words and stop blankly staring at Hajime.

“Um, not that I’m asking to eat you out! Just wondering if you have any pointers on what feels good…”

Fuck, he was quiet for too long and now Hajime thought he wasn’t interested. Fuck, damage control time.

“Uh, no dude… you’re uh… the only other person who’s ever gotten me off?”

Hajime’s eyes widened and his face flushed a little darker.

“O-oh.”

Fuck why was this so awkward? It was probably best just to be direct.

“Uh, but, if you’re looking for, y’know, feedback or whatever… like, I’d be down for that…”

Hajime lifted his head at that.

“Yeah dude?”

“What’re bros for, right?”

“Right.” Hajime’s grin was so wide it practically split his face in half as he slid off the bed and got on his knees between Soda’s thighs.

It actually made Soda panic a bit, he hadn’t been expecting things to move so fast and he kind of wanted to drag this out as long as possible.

“O-oh, right to it huh? No work up or anything?”

Hajime paused and looked up at him, surprised and a little embarrassed.

“Guess you’re right, better set the mood first, huh?”

Hajime stood up, but Soda only had a moment to be disappointed before he was back on the bed, pushing Soda down, and getting on top of him.

Yeah, that pretty much stopped Soda’s brain altogether, and any functions that had remained were definitely lost when Hajime leaned forward and started kissing up and down his neck.

Hajime was fucking good at this. The way he was nipping and kissing Soda’s neck definitely would have gotten him wet right away if he hadn’t already been practically soaking through his boxers.

Hajime lowered his body to press against Soda’s. He felt Hajime’s half hard dick press against his thigh and couldn’t help the little whimper of pleasure he let out at the feeling.

“See? That’s what I was talking about.” Hajime chuckled before going back to kissing Soda’s neck.

Soda wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. It felt amazing but having Hajime on top of him, pressed so close and kissing his neck almost lovingly, but it was probably going to make him say something he’d regret. Or do something… Hajime seemed pretty talented with his mouth, maybe he could convince him to give him a proper kiss…

Okay, no, gotta get Hajime’s mouth further from his own asap.

He was about to tell Hajime he could stop, that he had definitely “set the mood” already, but then Hajime started grinding against Soda’s thigh and slid his hands up his Soda’s under his t-shirt, and Soda forgot how to speak.

“Cool if I touch your chest?” Hajime mumbled the question against his neck, but slowed his movements just enough for Soda to finally be able to collect his thoughts a little.

“Y-yeah, but uh…” The way Hajime immediately stopped what he was doing and pulled back when he heard Soda hesitate just made Soda want to kiss him more. “Well, I mean, I was kinda joking about the work up thing? Like… I’m already super turned on so-”

Relief crossed Hajime’s face, followed by a teasing chuckle.

“Wait really? From just this, dude?”

Soda flushed deeply, he knew “just this” would have gotten him soaked even if he hadn’t spent the better part of the last hour thinking about Hajime’s cock, but Hajime didn’t need to know that.

“Look, I’ve just been horny since the movie started, don’t get too cocky, asshole.”

“Oh. Man, if you were horny you should’ve just said something. We could’ve been jacking off or something this whole time.”

“Well now you know, so how about we get to that ‘or something’?”

Hajime’s shit eating grin was back.

“I mean if you’re that desperate-” Hajime was cut off by Soda trying to smack him in the face with a pillow, which he caught with practiced ease. They had had many pillow fights over the years, generally over who got to pick what movie they were going to watch, and Hajime nearly always won.

Lucky bastard.

Instead of swinging the pillow back at Soda however, Hajime simply place it back against the wall as he took off Soda’s shirt and shifted lower down his body.

He kissed across Soda’s chest, taking a moment to suck each nipple and gauge Soda’s reaction. Soda was averting his eyes and covering his mouth to stop himself from making any embarrassing noises, but apparently Hajime wasn’t having that.

“C’mon dude, I already told you I want to hear you. That’s like half the point of this.”

Soda reluctantly lowered his hand a bit, only for Hajime to grab it and pin it above his head.

“Don’t cover your mouth again, alright dude?” Hajime smirked “If you do I might have to tie you up.”

Soda couldn’t help the little gasp he let out at that, and Hajime definitely noticed if his chuckling was anything to go by.

But Hajime apparently didn’t feel like teasing him about it right that second, as he simply went back to teasing Soda’s nipples.

He ran his thumbs along the scars on Soda’s chest, then kissed his way along them. The scars weren’t nearly as sensitive as his nipples, but the intimacy of the gesture made Soda moan. He tried to bring his other hand up to his mouth out of reflex, trying to keep quiet, but Hajime simply took it and pinned it above Soda’s head with the other.

“Stay.” Hajime’s face was so close to Soda’s, their lips were maybe an inch apart, and Soda couldn’t help but wonder if he would have caught Hajime staring at his lips if he hadn’t been so busy staring at Hajime’s.

A moment passed, then Hajime pulled away went back to kissing Soda’s chest.

Somehow it felt a little more disappointing than before.

Hajime began to work his way lower, running his hands up and down Soda’s sides as he kissed his stomach. Soda closed his eyes and tried to get lost in the feeling and stop thinking about how close he had been to kissing Hajime.

Hajime choose that moment to slide a hand up Soda’s shorts to tease the highest part of his inner thigh, which caused Soda to both gasp and buck his hips, trying to get Hajime’s hand where he wanted it. Hajime just laughed as he kissed along the waistband of Soda’s boxers, leaving his hand right where it was.

“Hajime, dude, c’mon.”

Hajime hummed against his stomach and took his hand out of Soda’s shorts, only to use it to start pulling the waistbands of both his shorts and boxers down. Hajime’s mouth followed the waistband down kissing every new inch of skin revealed to him.

And then the bastard stopped just as he was about to get to Soda’s clit.

Hajime left Soda’s clothes just high enough to cover his pussy, and chose instead to wrap his hands around to grope Soda’s ass, focusing his mouth on Soda’s thighs instead of where they both knew he wanted it.

Soda couldn’t help but whine.

“Dude, stop teasing! This is just cruel!”

“I’m not teasing, just wanna feel up your ass a bit dude, is that so bad?”

“You are teasing and you know it, you can play with my ass all you want while you’re eating me out.”

“Mm, good point.”

And just like that, Hajime was finally pulling off the rest of Soda’s clothes.

Once his clothes were gone, Hajime sat between Soda’s bent knees, holding them apart and just staring.

“It’s so fucking hot how wet you get dude.”

Soda just swallowed and tried to prepare himself for what was coming.

Hajime lowered himself down and placed a couple kissed low on Soda’s stomach before moving to kiss at the juncture of his thighs. He slid his hands down from Sodas knees to his thighs and gently spread them further, before finally pressing a gentle kiss against his clit.

It was hardly anything, but it still made Soda cry out, and he only got louder as Hajime kissed down his lips before slowly spreading them with his tongue and licking his way back up. When Hajime closed his lips around his clit and started gently sucking, Soda couldn’t help but bring his hands back down to cover his face. He stopped himself last second though, and settle on just gripping the sheets below him instead. Hajime watched him and gave an approving hum, lips still wrapped around his clit, which drew another breathy moan from Soda.

Apparently deciding he could trust Soda to keep his own thighs open, Hajime slid his hands back down to grope his ass again, lifting his hips a little as he did to give himself a better angle. He pulled back and replaced his lips with his tongue, keeping the contact gentle like he was trying to take things just as slow as Soda hoped he would.

“Hajime…” it was quiet and breathy, but it made Hajime sigh and close his eyes as he once again traveled lower and licked at Soda’s slit. He began increasing the pressure a bit, spreading Soda out on his tongue as he began to delve the tip into him, just a little, as both a tease and a promise. He pulled Soda’s hips a little closer as he continued, and Soda finally felt his tongue slip into his dripping pussy.

“Hajime!”

Hajime hummed again, and the little extra bit of stimulation from it felt amazing. Soda closed his own eyes and let himself get lost in it.

Hajime was good at this, anyone who said otherwise must have been lying. Soda knew he wasn’t hard to please, but every movement of Hajime’s lips and tongue felt practiced and amazing, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Honestly, that girl had probably just been trying to get Hajime to go down on her again when she said he was bad at it.

Hajime slid one of his hands around from Soda’s ass to tease his clit, rubbing it in slow, firm circles while he began to plunge his tongue in and out of Soda’s pussy. Soda was worried he’d rip the sheets if he gripped them any tighter.

Then Hajime pulled back.

“Open your eyes Soda, watching is half the fun.”

Soda obediently opened his eyes and looked down at Hajime, panting, and was rewarded with a soft smile before Hajime once again wrapped his lips around his clit, sucking just a little harder this time.

“Fuuuck.” Hajime began to bob his head, and while the sensation wasn’t much different, the visuals of it were definitely doing something for Soda.

He felt Hajime slip a finger into him and didn’t even realize he was moaning his name again until he felt Hajime’s pleased humming. A second finger joined the first almost immediately and Soda couldn’t help but remember Hajime telling him how easy it was to just slip his fingers into him the last time they had done this.

I bet it’d be easy for him to slip a whole lot more into me too.

He felt his pussy clench down around Hajime at the thought, which Hajime took as a sign to suck his clit harder and finger fuck him faster. He knew he was moaning openly now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Soda didn’t think he’d last much longer.

But then Hajime, terrible, beautiful, awful Hajime, decided to fucking stop.

“So? How am I doing?” Hajime’s shit eating grin told Soda he knew exactly how he was doing.

“Fucking great until you decided to stop, you bastard.” Soda tried to glare at him, but Hajime just curled his fingers where they were still buried deep in his pussy, which made him groan and throw his head back down instead.

“Hmm, well I wonder if…” Hajime trailed off.

“Wonder what dude? Cus if you’re wondering if you should keep going the answer is fuck yes.”

“Nah, it’s just that… well the girl who told me I suck, we were kinda both going down on each other? So, I’m just wondering if it was more of like… an angle thing? Or maybe I was just distracted?”

Soda didn’t really want to think about the girl Hajime had slept with right now, so he decided to just get straight to the point.

“So you wanna, like, 69 then?”

Hajime perked up for a second before looking a little embarrassed.

“I mean, if it’s cool with you?”

Soda had been dreaming of sucking Hajime’s cock for a long ass time, so it was definitely cool with him but…

“Um, I’m fine with it but like… aren’t you worried about my teeth?” It was something he’s been self-conscious about since he realized he was into dicks. Sure, his teeth weren’t any sharper than the average person’s canine teeth, but he knew they looked pretty intimidating, and if he had the option, he’s not sure he’d be comfortable putting his dick into a mouth that looked like his.

“Dude, you’ve shown me the way you can deepthroat your toys before, and from what I can see they’re all in one piece, so no, I’m not worried.” Hajime slid his fingers out of Soda and gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Unless you’re like actually planning on biting my dick off or something.”

“You kinda deserve it for stopping when you did.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Hajime leaned back and started unbuckling his pants, and it was only then that Soda realized Hajime had been fully clothed the whole time. It felt pretty unfair, so when Hajime got his pants off and started getting into position, Soda stopped him and insisted he took off his shirt too.

“It’s only fair dude, I can’t be the only one naked.”

“Sure dude, you know you just want to see my tits.” Hajime laughed as he pulled off his shirt, taking a moment to cup his pecs and jiggle them a little teasingly.

Soda hated that it turned him on.

He just rolled his eyes and waited for Hajime to stop.

Eventually he did, still laughing, then, to Soda’s surprise, he laid back and gestured for Soda to get on top of him.

“O-oh… I have to be on top?” He didn’t actually really mind the idea, but the thought of awkwardly crawling over Hajime until his pussy was close enough to his face was pretty embarrassing.

“I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but in my experience it’s a lot easier to suck dick when you’re the one on top. The angles just better.”

Soda thought it over and yeah, sucking dick while flat on his back did sound a little more difficult.

“O-okay, but can you, like, close your eyes while I get on top of you then? Shit feels embarrassing.”

“To be clear, I’d love to watch, but if it’s what you want, then sure.” Hajime closed his eyes and relaxed back into the bed.

Soda swallowed and took a moment to just take in the sight of Hajime, naked and fully erect.

Yeah, that was an image he was definitely going to be dreaming of.

He began awkwardly getting himself in position above Hajime, straddling his stomach and sliding himself back until he thought he was close enough, watching Hajime the whole time to make sure he kept his eyes closed as promised.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now…”

Hajime did, and immediately slid his hands up Soda’s thighs and spread his lips a little.

“What a great sight to open my eyes to, think I could get used to this.”

Soda tried not to get his hopes up at the implication, and instead focused on his own task.

Hajime’s dick was a pretty good length, and it was nice and thick too. Honestly it was probably one of the nicest looking dicks he’d ever seen, and considering most of the dicks he saw were attached to porn stars, that was really saying something.

“Hey, you alright dude?” For once, Hajime didn’t sound like he was teasing, just like he was genuinely checking to make sure Soda was alright. It made Soda’s chest feel tight.

But he told his heart to shut up, it was horny time, not feelings time.

“Yeah dude, I’m good, just, uh, taking it in I guess?”

“Okay man, no rush, take your time.”

Soda took a deep breath to calm himself before reaching out to gently stroke Hajime’s cock.

He was a little surprised by how different it felt compared to his toys. It was warm for one thing, and it twitched and pulsed a little as he moved his hand along it. Hajime began slowly running his hands up and down Soda’s thighs, encouraging him, but not distracting him.

As Soda continued to stroke Hajime’s cock he noticed little beads of pre-cum forming at the tip. He wanted to taste them, and he was supposed to be blowing Hajime anyways so…

He leaned in and licked the tip of Hajime’s cock, enjoying both the slightly salty taste and the quiet gasp he heard from Hajime. That was all the encouragement he needed. He wrapped his lips around Hajime’s tip and sucked, not too hard, and the noise Hajime made went straight to his pussy.

He pulled back and decided to focus on the shaft for a bit, using one hand to keep Hajime’s cock in place, only to end up slipping anyways when he felt Hajime’s lips close around his clit once again. He couldn’t stop himself from rocking his hips down against Hajime’s face, but Hajime didn’t seem to mind, if the noises he was making were anything to go by.

Soda tried to refocus of Hajime’s dick, kissed and licked his way back up the shaft until he could close his lips around the tip again. This time he lowered his head, took the tip fully into his mouth as he continued to stroke it with his tongue.

“Fuck, Soda.” Hearing Hajime moan his name was almost better than feeling his fingers slide back into his pussy.

He was definitely going to make him do it again.

Soda began to bob his head, taking just a little more of Hajime’s cock into his mouth with every downward motion. He wasn’t too worried about gaging, he’d been practicing this ever since he bought his first dildo, and some of the toys he had practiced with since then were even larger than Hajime’s cock. Really, the only thing he was worried about was that he wouldn’t be able to actually get Hajime off since he wasn’t sure exactly what would feel best for him…

Okay, so maybe Hajime had had a point earlier; going down on someone with different junk than you was kind of confusing.

Not that that seemed to be stopping Hajime though. All Soda could do was continue to bob his head as Hajime continued to eat him out like a pro. At some point Hajime had started fingering him at the same pace Soda was bobbing his head on his cock, moving his tongue up and down over Sodas clit at the same speed as well.

Soda decided to move a little faster, just to see if Hajime would too.

Hajime matched his pace perfectly, sucking at Soda’s clit now while he continued to work him with is tongue.

Fuck that was good, he’d have to up his game a little.

Soda curled an arm around Hajime’s thigh as he sped up a little more, using it to fondle Hajime’s balls as he slid his cock further down his throat. It earned him another one of those delicious moans of his name, and Soda felt himself getting incredibly close.

He took Hajime’s cock to the base a few times, loving the way Hajime was moaning against his pussy. Pretty soon he had to pull back for air though, Hajime had started curling his fingers down in the best fucking way and Soda was scared he’d legitimately choke on Hajime’s cock if he came with it in his throat.

“Fuck Hajime, more! Just like that, please!” He begged against Hajime’s cock, doing his best to keep working him with his hands and lips as Hajime once again picked up his pace.

Soda couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good, Hajime had started bobbing his head like he had earlier, and Soda wasn’t sure if it was the new angle or if he was just more sensitive now, but it felt so good his arms gave out and his thighs were shaking. He rested his face on Hajime’s hip, still absentmindedly trying to work his cock.

Hajime began to speak, puling away from Soda’s dripping pussy just enough to get his words out before diving right back in.

“C’mon baby, cum for me, cum on my face like a good boy.”

The last two words stuck in Soda’s head, and replayed over and over as he came, squirting all over Hajime’s face and moaning his name the whole time. Hajime didn’t let up, fucking him faster on his fingers and circling his clit with his tongue until he was whining from overstimulation.

Hajime finally pulled back, giving Soda’s pussy one last open-mouthed kiss before shifting them both so Soda could lay back down. Soda gratefully rolled onto his back and looked up at Hajime through half lidded eyes.

When Hajime caught him looking he made a show of wiping his juices off his face and licking his fingers clean.

“Fuck dude, I didn’t know you were a squirter, that’s so fucking hot.”

Soda’s pussy throbbed in interest at Hajime’s words, but he was too out of breath to do anything more than stare.

Or at least he was, until Hajime reached down and began to jerk himself off.

“W-wait dude, I’ll- just give me a sec to catch my breath and I’ll do it.” Hajime had finished himself off in the shower, no way Soda was going to let him do it again.

“You sure dude? Cus I really don’t think I can wait much longer.” Hajime squeezed his cock to emphasize his statement, and Soda noticed it looked red and angry now, like it was literally about to burst.

But he still felt boneless, could hardly manage to lift his head…

Good thing he had a way to get Hajime off without much movement on his part.

“Fuck my face.”

“What?” Hajime looked both incredibly shocked and incredibly aroused.

“It’s fine dude, I you know I can take it.” Hajime still seemed unsure, so Soda pressed him a little further “I want you to cum in my fucking mouth, dude, please.”

Hajime swallowed, but began shifting to straddle Soda’s face.

“Just like… slap me or something if it’s too much, okay?”

“You got it dude, now hurry up and fuck me.” Soda blushed as he said it but just opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue invitingly instead of correcting himself. He figured Hajime knew what he meant, and it was worth it to see the way Hajime flushed at the words.

Hajime guided his cock into Soda’s mouth carefully, and Soda moaned around it, half because the idea of Hajime actually fucking his face was turning him on again, and half because he wanted to make it clear to Hajime how into this he was.

Hajime tried a few quick, shallow thrusts into Soda’s mouth, but Soda wasn’t having it. He slid a hand up to cup Hajime’s ass and slowly pushed him forward, encouraging him to go deeper. Hajime got the message and braced his hands above Soda’s head.

“I’m serious dude, stop me if I make you even a little uncomfortable.”

Soda hummed his agreement and sucked at Hajime’s cock a little before relaxing his throat again.

Hajime shifted forward slowly, watching Soda’s face for any sign of discomfort as inch after inch of his cock disappeared down his throat. Soda just relaxed further and continued to push him deeper.

Once he was all the way in, Soda hummed again and did his best to communicate with just his eyes how badly he wanted Hajime to start fucking into him for real. Hajime must have gotten the message, because he shifted his position a little and began slowly thrusting into Soda’s willing mouth.

Soda didn’t realize how turned on he would get, but every time Hajime thrust back into his mouth, slowly getting faster and more confident, he felt his cunt throb with arousal. Part of him wanted to make Hajime stop and fuck his pussy instead, but Hajime looked like he was getting close, and Soda didn’t want to stop him.

Hajime picked up his pace, finally fucking into Soda’s throat fast enough to create some delicious wet slapping noises as he went. He was still holding back a little as he thrust down into Soda, but Soda was enjoying himself too much to try to make him go faster.

He was touched that Hajime was being so careful, but, if he was being honest, part of him really just wanted Hajime to fuck his throat as hard as he could.

Hajime’s thrusts grew shallow and uneven, and Soda knew he was close. He brought his other hand up to Hajime’s ass, squeezing a little and pushing him forward to make sure he didn’t try to pull out.

He was serious when he told Hajime he wanted him to cum in his mouth.

“Fuck, Soda, I’m gonna-”

Soda just hummed around him and gripped his ass harder, and soon he felt Hajime’s hot cum filling his throat as he did his best to swallow around his cock.

Hajime was panting as he pulled his cock out, and suddenly Soda’s throat felt a little raw.

Maybe it was a good thing that Hajime had so much restraint.

Hajime flopped down on the bed next to Soda, throwing an arm over his face as he caught his breath.

“Fuuuuck dude, that was fucking amazing.” He turned his head to look Soda in the eye. “I’ve never done something like that before, it was fucking hot.”

“Mm, yeah.” Soda’s voice sounded a little raw and he tried to cover it with a cough, but Hajime had already noticed.

“Here, one sec.” Hajime rolled over and reached for something on his desk, squishing Soda beneath him a little as he did.

Not that Soda minded.

Hajime moved back and handed Soda a water bottle.

“You really didn’t have to do that dude, would have been more than happy to just jerk off to your post-nut face.”

“You jerked off last time too, didn’t feel right.” Soda shifted and squeezed his thighs together, trying to ignore the way his pussy was still pulsing. “Besides, I really fucking enjoyed it.”

Hajime quirked a brow at that.

“Yeah?”

“If I hadn’t already soaked through your sheets, I definitely have now okay? That was probably almost as good for me as it was for you.”

Hajime finally looked down and noticed the way Soda was rubbing his thighs together.

“Well if that’s the case, how about I return the favor?”

“Uh?”

“Sit on my fucking face dude.” Both of them blushed bright red for the millionth time that night. “I mean uh… I probably need practice with that too, right?”

Soda had honestly forgotten this was supposed to be about Hajime practicing his oral skills, and based on the demonstration he had just gotten, he was starting to suspect there hadn’t actually been a girl telling Hajime he was bad in bed in the first place…

But he wasn’t about to call him out with such a nice offer on the table.

#Kazuhina #hinasouda #soudahina #soul friends #hajime hinata #soda kazuichi #my writing #fic #trans soda #trans stuff #afab language #nsft #This is bryn's birthday present so you have them to thank for this lmao

[moonlitceleste]

straight up villain (Villain AU)

This is a songfic based on “Villain” by K/DA ft. Madison Beer and Kim Petras. There’s really no plot to it; I started with a vague idea and just went along with whatever my brain told me. It kinda jumps around and I didn’t proofread this at all, so sorry if it’s confusing!

I’d suggest listening to the song and watching the visualizer video because it’s honestly such a vibe. If I could animate I’d totally make a video full of epic fight scenes, but unfortunately I don’t have that talent learned yet.

This version of the song is a little more chill, so if you find the original too intense you can always listen to the slowed one instead.

On the low Only love myself, no more Take you to the grave, I'll ghost I know I can be so cold In the dark Where I like to keep my heart Know I'm all bite, no bark Like to catch you way off guard

A shiver ran down the crime boss’ spine.

His eyes darted around the room, searching through the darkness.

Shadows flickered. He swore he could see movement in them.

The night was crime’s time to rule; people feared the darkness it brought.

Now, he was the scared one.

I'll stay so deep inside your brain And take you somewhere far away

“Who’s there?”

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, revealing his false bravado.

Shaking hands gripped the gun around his waist, knuckles turning white with pressure.

Creeeakk.

The man whipped around, heart hammering in his chest.

Who—or what—was lurking in the shadows?

A snap echoed through the air as he fired a round.

Silence.

The only sound came from distant echoes of Gotham’s nightlife and the frantic beating in his throat.

He swore he had seen something sweep out in the corner of his vision, if only for a moment.

Perhaps it was the paranoia.

He slowly lowered his gun, shoulders relaxing—

Only to whip around when he felt a phantom hand brush his shoulder.

A pair of eyes flashed in the darkness, gone the next second, but he knew what he had seen, what he had felt.

Icy fear seized his body, taking hold of his limbs.

Something was watching him.

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price All up on your head, do just what I said I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling Straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling

“Stop toying around.”

The gravelly voice was met with a cackle, almost cat-like in nature.

That was his only warning before it stepped from the shadows: a creature out of his nightmares, shrouded in darkness like part of the night itself.

Sharpened black claws glinted under the streetlights, and dark black orbs pinned him in place as it slunk forward. He couldn’t move, frozen like a deer in headlights.

The thing was so human-like in shape, but it was too monstrous to be one.

A wicked smile spread across its face, and his face blanched as he caught sight of the fangs protruding from the top.

The creature stalked forward like a predator chasing its prey.

Then, it pounced.

I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of drеad 'Til you go pow

It was common knowledge within Gotham’s criminal underworld that the Arkham Knight worked alone. He played by his own rules, merciless in his distribution of justice.

But lately, it was rumored that the Knight had an ally.

There was no proof of this, no sightings to go by, but there was a subtle shift that could be felt—an underlying sensation of imminent danger.

Gunfights and confrontations lessened, and the Knight’s enemies started disappearing without a trace. No blood, body, or evidence of struggle could be found; it was as if they had simply ceased to exist.

Whoever this new player was, they were dangerous.

Is it really a surprise if I'm playing with your mind And I treat you likе a prize, then I throw you to the side? And am I really that bad if l love to make you mad? And get happy when you're sad, only care about a bag

Jason shook out his hair, metal helmet in his hands, and leveled a glance at his companion.

“Did you really have to take so long to kill him?”

The two were in one of their few safe houses, recuperating after their long night of fighting.

“It’s the thrill of the chase.”

Marinette, no longer transformed, stated this as if it were obvious—which it was. Jason had been with her long enough to understand her concept of fun. She leaned forward and stretched, looking much like the animal after which her magic ring was themed.

“We can’t waste time playing around. There are more important things to be done,” he growled.

Marinette simply giggled, bounding over to bat her eyes at him with mock innocence.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You know what you’re doing.”

Her smile grew wicked, arms darting out to wrap around his waist.

“You look so good when you’re mad,” she purred.

Jason leaned down, and their lips met in a kiss.

In control That's how I like it and I'm never letting go, nah Never had a soul (soul) So you ain't taking nothing from me when you go, nah

Crack.

Marinette smirked as her staff made contact with the target’s skull.

Normally she would use Cataclysm for a more swift kill, but the remains were needed in order to send a message to Arkham Knight’s enemies.

They were growing more volatile, more desperate to expose whatever they thought she was.

Phantom Killer, they called her. The name sounded like something out of a badly-written horror movie. Marinette much preferred the one she had already: Reine de L'ombre.

Of course, she didn’t need a title, but Jason had come up with it. She was pleasantly surprised by his naming skills—it meant Shadow Queen, for she was a queen, and Jason her knight, as he put it.

She didn’t feel any remorse as the pile of bodies below her grew. Perhaps this made her soulless, but she didn’t need one anyway.

Marinette had all she wanted right beside her.

I'll stay so deep inside your brain And take you somewhere far away

“...you do what you gotta do, am I right?”

Marinette nodded at the man standing across from her, a smile on her red-painted lips.

He had been leering at her from across the bar the whole night, and although that was the goal, she was still disgusted. He had to be at least twenty years older than her. Heck, he was old enough to be her dad.

The intel she and Jason had acquired said the businessman had a thing for younger women, which was apparent. According to the same source, the company he ran was also a front for trafficking and drug rings.

Marinette wanted to see him bleed.

“How about we take this to my room?”

The comment was abrupt, and Jason would probably kill her for her indiscretion later, but she was getting tired of the man’s blabbering.

Her hand moved up his arm, the expensive material of his suit cool against her fingers. She bit her lips seductively, which seemed to convince him.

Bingo.

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price All up on your head, do just what I said I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling (yeah, yeah) Straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling

Marinette gritted her teeth as the man tried to reach for her butt again. 

She attempted to stop him by saying she wanted to wait until they entered her room, but he was persistent. She couldn’t wait to get rid of him.

As soon as she opened the door to her hotel room, she shoved him inside and up against the wall. He seemed to be expecting a kiss, but she punched him hard. For a crime lord he certainly wasn’t a good fighter. Maybe it was the drugs she slipped into his drink earlier that contributed to his quick defeat.

Marinette cuffed his arms behind his back with a pair she had stashed earlier. She could have waited for the man to undress so she could ensure he didn’t have any weapons, but she had gone through enough torture already. Her eyes didn’t need to see that.

She turned him around, giving him a smile that promised warmth and kindness, before pulling out a dagger and pressing it to his throat.

“Now talk.”

I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of dread 'Til you go pow

“Claws in.”

Marinette’s black suit faded away, revealing her now blood-spattered red dress.

She flopped onto the couch, not bothering to remove her shoes or dirty clothing.

After hours of trying to get information out of the businessman, she only managed to wring a few coded phrases from him. He seemed to only be a figurehead of his shady organization rather than its actual leader.

A Cataclysm later and here she was, back to the drawing board.

“Jay?” Marinette called.

It was unusually quiet in the safe house; usually after solo missions they’d greet one another with a kiss. Now, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Jason?”

Silence.

Marinette huffed. She knew exactly what this was about.

Bang, bang You can do anything No fear, no pain Listen to your brain go Go stupid, go dumb, go stupid and Then we go insane, woah Just do what I say Follow me, I'll lead the way

“Are you jealous?”

Jason whipped his head around, caught off-guard by the appearance of his girlfriend in his doorway. It seemed as if she wasn’t wasting any time.

“I’m not jealous. That guy couldn’t get you if he tried.”

“Then why are you mad?”

His jaw clenched.

He wished he hadn’t agreed to let Marinette extract the information alone; Jason almost wished he was there to see the man in pain.

“He was putting his hands all over you.”

“It was for a mission. Besides, I thought you said he couldn’t get me even if he tried?”

Her last words were said with a lilt, and Jason knew she was riling him up. He couldn’t stay mad, anyway—she had a point.

He deflated and leaned forward to brush his lips against her. Marinette smiled into the kiss, then pulled away. She looked him up and down, a glint in her eyes.

“I guess I’ll have to make it up to you, hmm?”

She paused, then wrinkled her nose.

“After I take a shower. I don’t want this guy’s blood on me any longer.”

Maybe they acted stupid sometimes, but the two always followed one another in the end.

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price (Woo-ah) All up on your head, do just what I said I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling Straight up villain, straight up villain (Yeah) Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling (Woo-ah!)

Marinette panted deeply, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

A mass of bodies surrounded her, but she wasn’t paying attention. This wasn’t just a battle. It was war.

It was a fight for her life, and she wasn’t going down now.

Reine de L'ombre tore through her enemies like a terrifying force of darkness, one after the other. The Arkham Knight fought by her side, fueled by pure destruction.

Maybe they wouldn’t make it out, but they wouldn’t go down without a fight.

I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of dread

'Til you go pow

A week later, a couple rose hand-in-hand from the ranks as new rulers of the Gotham Underworld.

Reine de L'ombre and the Arkham Knight—a queen and her king.

-

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @enternalempires @freesportspalacesalad @h1sss @nathleigh

#maribat #celestewrites #jasonette #cel's fics

[sassyhobbits]

ohhh could we have a “why are you awake right now” part two? 😍🙏

pt 1

enjoy!!!!

~~~

Rowan hadn’t been sleeping for nearly long enough when he awoke to the thud of someone banging their fist impatiently on his front door.

He really didn’t want to get out of bed. For some reason, it was extra comfortable and warm this morning. When he finally deigned to open his eyes, Rowan realized why.

Aelin was curled into his bare chest, his arms wrapped around her, holding the woman close. The events from the previous night rushed back to him. Maybe it made him a selfish prick, but he couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to have her back.

The knocking came again, harder this time. Rowan reined in a groan, carefully detangling himself from Aelin, not wanting to disturb her peaceful rest. He slipped quietly from the room, cursing under his breath as the banging came again. Who the fuck had the audacity to be so demanding this early in the morning?

The answer to his question became obvious when Rowan threw open the door with an irritable “What?” and found Chaol Westfall standing outside his front door.

Chaol looked as though he had seen better days. His chestnut hair was messy, dark shadows under his eyes suggesting a night of little sleep, and his usually clean-shaven face had a hint of scruff.

“Where is she?” Chaol demanded, forgoing any greetings or even apologies for disturbing him. He looked over Rowan’s shoulder towards the couch, as if she would be sleeping there, before looking back at him. Chaol’s jaw clenched when he took in Rowan’s bare chest. He knew how it must have looked to him. Yet, he didn’t care. Not anymore.

Rowan knew who he was referring to, but he crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. This was the man who had hurtled insults at Aelin the night before. “Where is who?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” Chaol ground out. “She still shares her location with me. I know Aelin is here.”

“Regardless if she’s here or not, I don’t think she wants to talk to you.”

“It’s none of your fucking business. She’s my girlfriend.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “Funny. She said you two broke up last night.”

“It was just an argument. I just need to see her.”

“Go home, Chaol. If she wants to talk to you, she will.”

Chaol opened his mouth as if to spit something nasty out, but faltered when the sound of a door opening came from behind him. Rowan looked over his shoulder and found Aelin stepping out of his room, eyes widening as she noted who he was speaking with.

“Chaol,” Aelin breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Rowan knew that this situation was looking worse and worse. Opening the door without a shirt, Aelin wandering out of his room so casually. Chaol was clenching his jaw so hard that he could have been on the verge of breaking a tooth.

“I wanted to talk, Aelin,” Chaol bit out.

“Oh,” said Aelin simply. “Uh, alright then.”

She padded down the hall, brushing by Rowan. He managed to catch her eye as she lingered in the threshold, raising a questioning brow. Are you sure? I can kick him out. Just give the word.

She gave an almost unperceivable shake of her hand, brushing her hand on his arm. It’s alright. I can handle this.

Rowan knew Chaol saw the tiny exchange and the casual touch. Chaol had always seemed uncomfortable when he and Aelin had touched casually, had those little conversations through their eyes. They had tried to keep it to a minimum when Chaol was around, but Rowan found he didn’t really care what he thought anymore.

Rowan reluctantly stepped back inside, shutting the door to give them so privacy. He had been fully intending to head back to his room, not wanting to eavesdrop, but the first words that came out of Chaol’s mouth stopped him in his tracks.

“You didn’t wait long, did you?” he asked, voice dripping in venom.

Rowan froze, understanding the insinuation.

“Excuse me?” Aelin said back slowly, in a way Rowan knew promised violence. He could practically see her crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.

“We have one argument and you go right to him. To his bed.”

“First of all, it wasn’t an argument. You broke up with me. Second, because you ended things with me, what I do after is none of your concern.”

Chaol released a bark of bitter laughter. “I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“That no matter what I did, you would never pick me. You’d always pick him.”

Rowan sucked down a sharp breath. He shouldn’t be listening, but he couldn’t get himself to walk away.

“Chaol-”

“No, Aelin,” he snapped, cutting her off. “Part of me probably always knew, but I hoped that I was wrong, that I could do something to get you to care for me the same way I care for you. But it had been a lost cause. Because you never loved me. You love Rowan, you have since we started dating.”

Rowan could have sworn time stopped in that moment. He barely dared to breathe, waiting for Aelin to speak up, to deny the accusation, to say he was being paranoid.

But she was silent.

Rowan knew that was an answer within itself.

…

Having Chaol turn up to Rowan’s apartment this morning had been an unpleasant surprise to begin with. The conversation they were having wasn’t doing much to change that.

Aelin had no defense against his last accusation. Because Chaol was right, even if she had hoped he wasn’t. She had been in love with Rowan for longer than she wanted to admit, but had been so frightened of losing his friendship, she had never said anything. When she had met Chaol, she saw it as an opportunity to finally move past those feelings she held for Rowan. That had probably doomed them from the start.

When Aelin stayed silent, Chaol took a step forward. “How long were you planning on stringing me along, Aelin? Until Rowan finally made a move? Was I just a distraction until then?”

“No, Chaol. Gods, no. What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I honestly don’t even know. I don’t think I ever did.”

Aelin wasn’t sure why, but his words hurt. He was acting as if their entire relationship was based on nothing. She had cared for him, and she still did. Just… not in the way he cared for her.

A tense silence blanketed them. Aelin knew she should look him in the eye, but couldn’t get herself to. She hugged herself tightly, staring down at her bare feet.

“Did you fuck him?” Chaol eventually asked.

Aelin flinched, looking at him incredulously. “Are you serious? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know, Aelin!” he shouted. “I just really don’t know anymore! Are you even sorry? The least bit guilty?”

In that moment, she could have said yes and apologized. But then she would be lying. And she didn’t give a damn about Chaol’s feelings right now. Aelin only straightened, holding her head higher, before saying. “No. I’m not.”

Chaol scoffed bitterly. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Yeah. I know.”

He shook his head, eyes filled with fury. “I swear to the gods, Aelin… one day-”

Whatever vileness was about to spill out of his mouth stopped when the door opened. Aelin was prepared to snap, thinking it was Rowan coming to defend her when she already told him she could handle it, but her words withered on the tip of her tongue at the sight of Lorcan Salvaterre lurking in the doorway.

Lorcan had been living with Rowan for a while now. He was an unpleasant man, and Aelin delighted in antagonizing him. They had a relationship built on hurtling cheap insults at one another, but kept it cordial beside that. On top of being Rowan’s roommate, he was dating one of Aelin’s closest friends, Elide. They didn’t maim each other for their sakes.

Lorcan’s face was stormy, extremely pissed off. Normally, that expression was directed towards Aelin, but today, it was for Chaol.

“It’s my day off,” Lorcan said lowly. “And I’d like to sleep in without you being an ass towards Galathynius so loudly. I’d appreciate it if you left.”

Chaol ground his teeth, but relented. It seemed he was just as tired of this useless argument as she was. He turned his gaze towards her once more. It was cold, like they were stranger. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned.

“Goodbye, Aelin,” Chaol said before stalking off.

There was a sort of finality to his voice that told Aelin there would be no coming back.

She released a long breath, unfurling her fists and looking towards Lorcan.

“I’m sorry we woke you,” Aelin said earnestly.

Lorcan shrugged. “It’s not your fault. You two done with?”

“Yeah. I suppose we are.”

“Good,” Lorcan grunted. “I never liked him anyway.”

“You don’t like anyone.”

“Exactly.”

Despite everything that had just happened, that the wounds from Chaol’s words still stung, Aelin snorted out a tiny laugh. Even if she and Lorcan always gave each other shit, they tended to stick up for one another when anyone else was giving them shit.

“Well,” Lorcan sighed, glancing back inside. Aelin followed his gaze, finding Rowan standing there. Her stomach dropped, realizing he must have heard everything. “I’m going to go back to sleep. You two can… talk, I guess.”

Aelin gave a stiff nod, allowing Lorcan to close the door behind her. He didn’t say anything else before heading back to his room and quickly shutting himself in, leaving her alone with Rowan in the living room. Aelin had never felt nervous in front of Rowan before until now. Her hands opened and closed a few times, wondering what to say.

“How much did you hear?” she managed to croak out.

Rowan’s lips were tight. “Everything.”

Aelin nodded, finding it hard to look Rowan in the eye. Gods, if Chaol had fucked up her friendship with Rowan, she would murder him. Bastard.

“Was it true?” Rowan asked, taking a step closer. “What he said?”

Aelin heart was pounding in her chest, body flushed with fear. She managed to look him in the eye. “Yeah… yeah, it was.” She bit her lip hard. “I- uh… you’re my best friend, Rowan but you’re more than that. And if you don’t feel the same, I understand. And I understand if you need space after all of that.”

He didn’t say anything. The silence was killer. Aelin’s eyes flickered down to her feet again, feeling her eyes burn. She felt vulnerable, and she hated feeling vulnerable.

She heard Rowan take a few long strides forward until he was before her. His fingers nudged her chin, tilting her face upwards to look at him again. Aelin was always struck stupid by how handsome he was, how comforting the familiar planes of his face were to her. His green eyes held hers, refusing to back down.

“You love me?” Rowan whispered, so soft that Aelin nearly didn’t hear him.

Aelin swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. I do.”

The air between them was electric, setting her skin on fire. Aelin wasn’t even sure she was breathing as Rowan slowly leaned forward and closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against her softly. It was nothing more than a whisper of a kiss, but it destroyed and remade her nonetheless. Aelin’s eyes fluttered shut, leaning closer to Rowan and his warmth as he cupped her face gently.

Rowan pulled back, her lips still tingling from his kiss. Aelin peeled her eyes open as Rowan rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you too, Aelin.”

Her heart jumped, a shaking smile finding its way to her lips. “Yeah?”

Rowan nodded, his eyes alight with joy. “Yeah. I really do.”

Aelin released a tiny, disbelieving laugh, feeling her eyes well with tears. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the back of Rowan’s neck as he pulled her close, face buried in her hair. Never in a million years did she think that her feelings would be returned.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped up in one another. Aelin would have been fine remaining like that for the rest of eternity, but weariness caught up with her. The late night combined with the early morning argument had taken a toll on her.

“Ro?”

“Hm?”

“Can we go back to bed for a bit?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

He slipped his hand into hers, walking them back towards the bedroom. Aelin happily crawled back into the bed, snuggling back under the comforter. Rowan slid in next to her, not hesitated to pull her tight into his side. Aelin relished his warmth, his pine and snow scent, the feeling of his strong arms around her. She could get used to this.

Aelin fell back asleep with a smile on her face.

#rowaelin #my writing #throne of glass