#( and my muse for him is always insanely high because he means so much to me. i NEED people to know how perfect he is to me ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noxiatoxia · 2 years ago

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Hi! So I have a few things I wanted to say/ask so hopefully this isn't too long or out of place or anything

Okay so first off, you always reblog and say such nice things about my art in the tags and I wanted to say I appreciate it so much, I never know what to say but like you're the backbone of the hikakao community so it feels like a seal of approval in a way haha. And your art is so amazing like, damn! I love it sm. Kaoru has been my fav character for nearly a decade so I love seeing that its not just me he has a grip on, and as an autistic person myself who loves princesses’ and specifically Cinderella… well your hc means a lot to me haha. Oh and your hanahaki fic??? I ugly cried. SO damn good like the characterizations… one of the best Hikakao fics I've read on god

So I kinda wanted to ask two things, first being if you had to choose for the other hosts to have a fav princess who would it be? Im personally very partial to Tamaki loving Belle, given the like french beauty and romanticism of it all, plus her giving herself up for the safety of a parent connection. I like the idea of him being kinda dumb and taking it as you need natural inner AND outer beauty, which he oh so obviously has in spades and that kind of nonsense. Idk I was just curious if you'd have an opinion on this as ive been giving it some thought lately. Especially on Hikaru, I think he would like a more down to earth princess that doesn't have too much frills or singing in the film, like Merida because it's the most adventurous one without character songs if you're just going off disney. But idk I feel like another princess would suit him better, I just can't think of one rn

Second was if you had any thoughts or analysis of how the maid the twins had when they were young impacted them and their development? And more importantly how it impacted them each differently? Like obviously her saying no one may ever be able to tell them apart fucked with their heads, but like idk. Ive been thinking about it. And what if they never met her, and she never said that? Would they of been less warped? I think they'd just meet someone else who they liked who couldn't tell them apart, who'd just say the same thing in a different way. But how key was her betrayal of trust during a high stakes robbery of their parent's estate to all this? Im just musing at this point lmao

Oh also less an ask but I personally hc Kaoru to dissociate and the like frequently, and how maybe them being in sync all the time in their mannerisms really helps him with his autopilot moments, and Hikaru is always ready and able to catch him up to speed on what's happening and what they just did, if its something he would care to know that is. And I hc Hikaru as bipolar, his depression just manifests really angerly instead of traditional sadness. But my point is I love the idea that they're just so used to the other that any mentally ill or neurodivergent behavior one of them does the others just like “Oh yeah Kaorus just like that. You know how it is. What do you mean you don't know anyone afraid of hairdryers? Like legit afraid? Yeah no thats just a thing. Hmm. Well you should get over it it's his fear not yours I dont see how it concerns you.” and like gets defensive if anyone tries to say it's weird lmao

Okay that was long oops I hope this wasn't out of place or weird or anything, I got excited talking about it haha. Hope all is going well!!

THIS IS SO FUCKING SWEET YES!!! I WAS DRAWING HIKAKAO RIGHT AS YOU SENT THIS ASK TOO BTW.... i was htinking like, should i post this... theres kissing..... but then i remember why it's so rewarding to do what I love <3 really and truly. I've met SO many incredibly kind, creative, and thoughtful people through hikakao it's insane. And tbh it makes me want to never stop posting about them even if it nets me hate every now and again LMAO it's just, stuff like this is irreplaceable to me. And I LOVE your art!!!!!! It's SO cute... the picture of Kaoru dressed as cinderella made me legit scream. I sent it to all my friends and showed it to my brother haha. The whole Kaoru/Cinderella headcanon is very personal to me as you can probably gather from my carriage posting. so whenever I see it I go nuts (in a good way. it not destructive).

I think it's very funny (in a good way) that you already had a special interest in princesses, esp Cinderella. For me, it's like...I can NOT look at anything Cinderella related normally anymore because I'm reminded of the carriage allegory, and yet we have Cinderella movie nights every thursday now because of me...I describe my relationship with Cinderella as "stockholm syndrome" because i legit didn't care about or really even know Cinderella before all this went down, but now she is my Worst Enemy but Best Friend and if anybody says Cinderella is mid I'm blowing up another hostage.

Also!!! Thank you so much about the fic!!! While looking back I feel like there are def things I could improve on, I do really like that fic. As somebody who's personally arospec, I have trouble writing the "feelings" of romance so I tried my best. I have other Hikakao adjacent stories I'm writing and I wanna post them here!!!

Okay, onto the questions...firstly, YES, Tamaki DOES seem like the type to love Belle. He may also enjoy Rapunzel and her whole being held captive her whole life because maybe he feels the same way with his own family situation. Haruhi strikes me as a little mermaid type, no real reason, I just get that vibe. Although Kyoya probably relates to the original fairytale of the little mermaid in some ways for sure. I actually HC Mori's favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast, so he's probably also really into Belle. As for Hani, I'm not sure...Giselle, maybe. He likes her whimsy.

Hikaru is interesting, because I feel like he's like Me in which he HATES Cinderella because he has to hear about it 24/7 but if ANYBODY said anything mean about cinderella he'd be like...you bitch...you take that BACK. Altho I have this headcanon that Hikaru's favorite princess is Alice from Alice in Wonderland (tho she really isn't a "princess") because he always liked that movie better. Kaoru would cry as a kid tho when Hikaru said he thought that movie was better so he pretended to like Cinderella more. But he doesn't. Merida tho...that's a very good choice, I can defff seeing Hikaru being a big Merida fan.

So, to the second question: it's very interesting! What stood out about that maid to Hikaru and Kaoru was the fact she was mean to them. being raised as rich and "better" than everyone else, all the maids HAD to be nice or they got fired pretty much, so to see a maid go against that status quo, to treat them honestly...that's why they liked her so much.

If anyone else had said "nobody will be able to tell you two apart", would it have hurt? sure. But it wouldn't be devastating, because they likely wouldn't care about that person's opinion. but they liked this maid, they looked up to her in a weird way. Having somebody you like and trust tell you something hurtful is way more harmful than if a stranger did it.

Now...would they be LESS twisted if it never happened? I doubt it. I mean, maybe they'd be LESS focused on looking identical, but they would still be rather cruel and mischievous, because that's how they were simply raised: they were raised being taught their actions have no consequences, because they're better than everyone else. Simple by being "Hitachiins", they had a pass to do all sorts of nasty shit to people because they were rich and powerful. Besides, canonically, their mom & dad were barely in their lives, and child neglect causes the children to act out to get attention, usually via things that would get them scolded. So, while they miiight not have been AS keen on matching had that maid never said what she did before leaving them forever, they would probably be just as mean and cruel.

To le third point: YES that is so good. Kaoru very much dissociates in my heart of hearts as well. He has days on end where he doesn't feel like he's in his own body, everything's sort of a blur, he can't remember things well...Hikaru's there for him in those moments at least.

I always saw Hikaru and Kaoru as ADHD/Autism solidarity. But bipolar is an interesting one, too. I could def see it.

Also the hairdryer thing FUCKING RELATABLE...I'd think Kaoru is "afraid" of hairdryers/thunder - just really fucking loud noises that are sudden and/or unceasing. They don't make him "cower" necessarily but like, he gets super jittery/irritated because he gets overwhelming anxiety from it. Hikaru as a kid probably didn't understand why his brother acted so strangely to certain sights/sounds/touches, and maybe at first teased him about it, but when it was clear these things actually DISTRESSED Kaoru he stopped and did everything he could to make him feel better. and if anybody makes fun of kaoru for it Hikaru beats the shit out of them.

This was super nice ;w; I love receiving long asks, asks about ouran and the twins especially. legit if you ever wanna talk about them u can send an ask or DM me you seem really nice!!

#;noxiatalks2ya #hikakao #ohshc

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xionshadow · 2 years ago

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Blorbo bingo!

Zib

Ciel

Matsuda

Luo Binghe

HEHEHEHEHE, THEM!!! THEM THEM THEM!!!

Thank you, and for the sake of my poor followers... I will put a cut cuz I will gush about my boys.

Starting with L!!

L! I love this man, fucky lil cryptid man. L Lawliet or Rue Ryuzaki (I use both interchangeably at times.) is the world's greatest and slimiest detective. He takes up THREE whole ass slots and he sits like a weirdo. He is nothing BUT cryptid energy and gender envy to me. He's such a mary sue, but in the way that everyone who's important to the narrative and against Kira way. Honestly, Light is a mary sue too-. But that's beside the point. He is also almost always the only adult in the room. Which is funny as shit when you realize he's the most childish. Like, he holds the most authority and has the most reasonable line of thinking, while eating like three gingerbread houses with maraschino cherry syrup coating his shirt. I love him, he's a fucking bastard. He's done so many fucking crimes though. Every government is willing to believe he's Kira before they would let him on a case, which is honestly an accurate gauged of his character. He really would make something like the Kira case cuz he's board.

But GOD when you actually pull back the curtain of his actions and his Autism Stare™, you actually realize he's a little fucked up. And not in the fun way. I mean in the "Oh god, get him into therapy RIGHT NOW" way. This boy doesn't even understand the idea of opulence because he lives with the bare minimum so fucking often. It's doubtful if he even knows the comfort of a stable living quarters because he's been moving from hotel to hotel since he BECAME L. There's a high ass likelihood he doesn't even really want to be L anymore but keeps it up because it's the only thing he knows to do.

The author of DN really looked at L and went "I can fit so much autism and golden child syndrome into this man" and then didn't ask for approval. I love Ryuzaki,,, so fucking much. He's a neat character to disect, I promise.

NOW! Zib Membrane!!!

I can write like three essays about him. 90% of what I know about him is head canon, but like dude. You gotta understand, he's not okay. This is a man who caused the heat death of an entire universe in a single night BY ACCIDENT. He needs so much therapy. Not to mention he is basically a walking gender and identity crisis. He doesn't even like the name Zib. It was thrust onto him. Poor boy.

Does being part Irken count as cryptid swag? I say yes. And there's also a possibility he's also part vampire bee too. Zib does so much wrong though. Can't blame him, he's basically like a chihuahua. He's tiny and filled with enough spite to kill god. The only issue is the fact that he would 100% be bodied by earth's natural gravity.

He has enough blood on his hands to be considered fucking insane but like in his defense he's a bastard. His gender is unknowable, and that's sexy me thinks. I would mug him of his gender, it would end with him dead by accident cuz I sneezed on him. I both beloath and belove him. He's the worst.💖

All of this to say, he's my muse. He was sent to me on a pyre of wood and salt, and I love him. I hold him close to me even as he carves crescents into my fingertips with his jagged teeth. I cradle him as I show him off to all who will acknowledge him, even if he's trying to break each digit in my hand with the brute strength he most defiantly doesn't own. I make him wear silly little dresses as he screams curses. I love him a lot. 💖Although the feeling is most defiantly not mutual.

Ah!! Next rat bastard, Ciel Phantomhive!

OI! SOMEONE GET THIS SASSY CHILD—.

Okay enough playing around. Ciel Phantomhive, the most normal character I own in my list. Which is saying something because he has suffered straight up abuse. And not just the verbal kind.

The storyline of Black Butler is just there to show you how fucked up one traumatized 13-year-old kid can get. And like, yeah that shit tracks. Wish trauma wasn't on the docket per each arch, but much like Sebastain, I sorta reveal in it. It's cathartic to me somehow. I can't explain it, but I do like seeing Ciel lose his shit and be pathetic a lot. I also like seeing his demon butler take care of him, because Ciel is only 13.

Ciel has committed literal crimes. Like, murder is defiantly something he's partaken in at least three times since the beginning of the Madame Red Arc alone. And he is basically a nervous dog with enough spite to kill god. Or at the very least, kill his dear butler, Sebastian. Which almost happened thanks to the Undertaker. God I almost feel bad for that demon. Almost.

His gender is something I do crave though. Something about the opulent style mixed with the clearly childish outfits is super cute! Not to mention the dark gothic vibes. Like these fantasy outfits are so cute and I agree with the art team during that one arc that was super serious. I miss Ciel in very flashy, eye-catching, Victorian inspired clothing. His clothing style inspired my very hyper specific gender need of complex cute and girlish outfits but tailored for boys in specific.

That is to say, Ciel is a muse to me outfit wise. And making art of him. Also character study wise. I relate to his struggles a lot, and he's helped me learn how to more reasonably respond to trauma. I... don't know how that works, seeing as he's a repressed traumatic mess with PTSD. But I guess sometimes you need a character that is a wreck to show you how to not be one.

I love him, so much. I hope the kiddo gets to die a fairly peacefully death in the end. Since ya know, he was dead before the narrative even started going. And at the current moment, that's the only way I see the storyline ending. It would suck and yet it would be only natural. Although if we get canon Demon!Ciel I wouldn't be opposed to it in the slighest!

Matsuda!!!

It is him, the "just a guy" of guys. He literally starts out the manga looking in his thirties and by the time he is seen in the one shot with his hair grown back out he looks like he turned 21 yesterday. You straight up overlook him in the manga for so long until one day BAM he's in your face and he's being cute.

He is literally trying his best at all times, and I love him for it. He's currently in my brain 24/7. I am making a whole ass fic about him and Beyond, and I'm getting a birthday present about him once more. I love him. He's literally babygirl.

Of course, a man who is perfectly well adjusted is not a part of my blorbo list. And I can promise you, Matsuda Touta is not well adjusted. He's just a sunshine boy though. He's that one person who is actually deeply traumatized and when opens up about it, people are questioning how he isn't a depressed ball on the floor. Because, like, he really should be? He haunted by both L and Soichiro's death but he just sorta pushes on anyways?

He bounces back and looks happy and acts it a lot. But he really is suffering on the inside. He's like a repressed time bomb that doesn't even know he's repressed. And lord help him by the time the one shots roll around. You almost wonder how many break downs he's had in private post Light's death. And yet he's still a police officer, who seemingly didn't learn a damn thing from the Kira case. Still bright eyed and willing to jump off a building if it meant securing the outcome of for the case.

Gotta love him. His gender is so aggressively just a guy™. He really shouldn't have been in such a dark piece of media. He's written as comic relief, but he really starts out the manga thinking he's in a normal murder mystery manga. Only to meet L and decide that he's now in a dorky comedy. Only to have Light be put on the team and then is CONVINCED it's a romcom. Man can't get any breaks because he only realizes it's a tragedy he's been put into once L is dead.

If anyone in death note deserves a soft epilogue it's Matsuda and the rest of the task force. They went through so much shit, and for what? Light's ego trip into ego death? Not far.

I think a good little follow up for Matsuda would be him being domestic and helping out what remines of the SPK. He needs a rich authority figure anyways. Plus Near could use the company too.

Finally, the puppy in a human's(?) body! Luo Binghe!!

Somehow, he isn't normal. Like at all.

I can't really say much about him because all I know is stuff about him in passing and from the first few chapter(s?) of the book because Riku read it to me. I'm a disaster case and it was the only way to get me to read the story. Legally.

But like the artists who did the official art on the books got me smitten with him. Like look, his hair is so curly and long, and he's just so cute. He's an oversized dog who's in love with his less than good teacher. It's cute, a little messy, but cute.

He's also in the wrong story aggressively. He was literally written to be a stallion novel protag. His real story (the one that's closer to how SVSSS is written as) should be an idiot plot with countless misunderstanding. Like Romeo and Juliet mixed with the tale of Orpheus. No, I'm not kidding. It would be funny though.

Unfortunately, not much to say here, since I actually should learn more about him. But like, I'm sorry. He's unironically so fucking cute. I want him to have the world. He deserves it all.

#death note #l lawliet #touta matsuda #Ciel phantomhive #black butler #SVSSS #luo binghe #omg I love all of them #ask game #long post

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hoshinierabareshimono · 2 months ago

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Sexy times HCs part 1/3

OKAY, so... FOR THAT MEME everyone's doing today (y'all are awesome~~)... doing that for my muses doesn't give me accurate results because there's their general smexy times behavior, sure, but there are some ship-specific additions that can significantly influence those parameters, so.

I'm doing this a wee bit differently because I still want to join in on the fun :P

Genesis Rhapsodos:

He's a dominant control freak who also happens to be on the ace spectrum, meaning that it isn't as much the act itself that interest him, but everything surrounding it, especially that part in which he turns his partner into an incoherent mess before either of them climaxes (or before certain body parts are even involved). He loves putting his creativity and knack for reading people to good use, and watching his partner's face contort in bliss in its purest form and coaxing all kinds of pretty sounds from them? That's his favorite part of it all if his partner meets his ridiculously high standards and makes it past the ace spectrum barrier.

While with ladies, penetration can be involved, he's a strict side with male partners (which - imo - he makes up for plenty enough simply through his insane seduction skills and sensual nature).

Now, in the context of SephGenSeph (note how the ship name is written), he's an assertive switch who enjoys taking Sephiroth as much as he enjoys being taken by him. One of his most prominent ambitions IS being Sephiroth's equal, after all - and that translates to his preferences for their smexy times.

In addition to that, Sephiroth is the sole individual he respects and can grow to trust enough to put his need to always be in control aside for a bit and to actually let himself fall for a change.

He'd never think of Angeal in a romantic, let alone sexual way. Angeal is his childhood friend and bascially family, but not a love interest.

However, it's an even split and the exceptions he is willing to make in Sephiroth's case don't make him more merciful when it's his turn to unravel Sephiroth lol.

#muse: Genesis Rhapsodos #headcanons: Genesis Rhapsodos #out of favor #nsft #tw: sin

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katcadecascade · 7 months ago

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If you believe the lies I tell (Snowjanus Fic Chapter Seven)

Ao3

Tumblr Chapter Index

Chapter Seven: Gingersnap

Word Count: 3,661

His despondent attitude remains through the fall and rise of the sun, as if winter is rooted in his heart.

It’s all poetic musing, a dramatized way of saying he looks as terrible as he feels.

“You look like shit.”

Coriolanus squeezes his eyes shut and sighs, “Thanks, Festus, I had no idea.”

It’s automatic that he forced himself to go to school. He has no other choice in order to win scholarship money. Any emotional episodes have to be pushed away, it distracts his priorities.

Persephone elbows Festus, “What he means to say is, want some cookies?”

Coriolanus had hoped that everyone would leave him alone today, let him gloom in the corner and not acknowledge his state of mind. That dream is gone when Persephone offers up a small bag.

He accepts a gingersnap cookie out of insanity.

The morning begins with its usual pleasantries. Trekking to school, avoiding the loud crowds to get to class. The professor isn’t there yet but Coriolanus and a few others linger in the classroom. A few more students arrive for Festus and Persephone to no longer be the loudest here.

As Gaius and Hilarius animatedly recreate some play to Io, Urban, and the twins, Clemensia takes the seat beside him.

Much like Festus, she knows something is very wrong.

“Coriolanus? Are you okay?”

He sighs, and admits quietly, “I’m still figuring that out.”

She sinks into her chair and leans over to whisper, “I’m sorry for yesterday, I won’t ever bother-”

“No Clemensia,” he interrupts her, needing her to feel guiltless. It's not her fault that he’s out of sorts with the world. “Like I said, I don’t fully understand it but I’m trying to. You can, I mean you could and I won’t…” He struggles to ask but thankfully Clemensia has endless patience for him.

Clemensia gives him her hand, granting him agency to decide to actually do this.

In a snap decision, Coriolanus presses it to his forehead. He never really understood the whole traditions of scenting, most of it is colligated as, simply put, instincts.

It’s a common greeting he’s seen a few times. He feels awkward trying it out, skipping theory to execution. No way he’ll do the forehead to forehead scenting, that’s a level too high for his comfort.

He’ll accept this in small doses, testing it out.

So Coriolanus opted to release his scent over her knuckles, an alleviating freshness that brings a smile to her face.

Clemensia’s honest reaction pierces through the dread in his stomach. His scent was always too sharp, morphed by his stress, an old concern from Tigris that still bothers him. It’s rare for his scent to be anything other than broadcasting how deep his unpleasant thoughts go down.

Lavenders greet him back, reciprocating the gesture but it’s not the only scent to catch his attention.

With scent blockers, it takes a burst of instincts to override the treatment. Something as simple as greetings or short termed scent marking shouldn’t rid it out of his system. He’s always reliant on blockers. Never before has Coriolanus opened the door to paying attention to scents of the outside world.

He blinks, letting his nose track over the fruity scent over Festus and something akin to a herb over Persephone. Pomegranates and basils.

It’s nothing strong but it is there, something identifiable to know that they are close, that they have scent marked each other.

Coriolanus forces himself to stop staring, to mask his surprise. He only noticed because they’re sitting right next to him. There’s nothing alerting him to take in the scents of his other classmates, if they even decided to use their scents today. Clemensia was right, he really did not read anyone else’s scents. It might not be the scent blockers to blame.

Amidst this strange revelation, Coriolanus fails to register the local arachnid pest headed towards him.

“Wow, Coriolanus. You actually took my advice.”

He’s still holding Clemensia’s hand, already lowered on the table but nonetheless the scents are plainly evident.

“Mind your own business Crane.”

“But how can I possibly do that when you’re so eye-catching?” Her smile is so utterly hollow. “I missed your scent.”

An uncomfortable shiver is on his skin, Coriolanus stiffs up at the unwanted attention. Arachne always loves to draw crowds, a flair for the dramatics. Just like every argument they ever had, Coriolanus needs to demolish her. Maybe Coriolanus enjoys the attention too, as long as it favors him.

“I should’ve known you did, from all of your goading.”

It's almost familiar, this tic for tat between them. He knows how to press her buttons and she could try as much as she wants to do the same. Arachne Crane always tries a little too hard.

“Apologizes, Coriolanus, but it worked didn’t it?”

“Oh please, I didn’t listen to your ‘friendly’ advice.” He rolled his eyes and languidly, dropped his friend’s hand. “I’m just indulging myself.”

His casualness makes her eyes twitch.

“You sure took your time.” Arachne begins with a gruffness but it’s back to her saccharine sweet mocking, “I mean, after so many rejections.”

“What are you on about?”

Arachne relishes in his genuine confusion. She knows this is knowledge he lacks, something he usually avoids.

“There were so many of our classmates who tried to court you. The elusive and untouchable Coriolanus Snow.” Her laugh takes up the room. “I still remember poor Hilarius’ devastated face.”

“Arachne, you don’t need to bring that up,” Hilarius winced.

A hitch is in Coriolanus’ breath, taking in how silent the now full classroom is. He can barely see a crowd of random students watching from the door, choking on curiosity and starving for entertainment. Among his classmates, Clemensia is the only one who dares to intervene.

“He’s right, you can stop,” Clemensia demanded.

Arachne ignored her, totally focused on Coriolanus. She takes a step closer to loom over him.

“Did you not notice all of them fawning over you? After all these years of being the prettiest omega.”

It’s not surprising that other students were charmed by Coriolanus but he thinks that Arachne is over exaggerating it all. Then again, he doesn’t remember supposedly rejecting Hilarius. Coriolanus did not engage in the communication of scents and now fumbles into it.

It was a mistake to even try it out, especially when Arachne proves that she wants to single him out. Any indulgence of his is a weakness.

This exposed insecurity is Arachne’s only chance to bully him. Coriolanus refuses that opportunity for her.

He can see how Arachne wants to play out this little spat, label him a hypocrite or self-absorbed. It could be true but those are only her words, her description of Coriolanus.

The amount of vile when she titled him as the prettiest omega, it almost made him gag. If anything, this reveals something so utterly transparent about Arachne Crane. He’s stumped over how completely foolish she is.

“God, Arachne, why are you so obsessed with me?”

It’s the only logical conclusion, especially with the amount of times she tries to pester him. First with grades, then wealth, now it’s their dynamic. It’s a shame Arachne uses this as a trump card, she really could’ve bested him with it if not for how easy it is to mock her.

He almost feels sad if not for how annoying she can be.

The sickening sweet vanilla only confirms how deep his words cut into Arachne. She presses her hands on his desk with a small slam, caging all of his vision.

“Coriolanus Snow, it’s a mystery why people even try with you. You offer up nothing, not one single token, and shove us all away for years. Just keep being a good little prudish student.”

He matches the intensity in Arachne’s voice, daring her to keep talking if she can.

“If I’m doing nothing with my scent, then you’re doing everything with yours.”

The scent of burning sugar fills their noses.

“That’s enough,” Felix Ravinstill steps in, bracing an arm against the girl, urging her to step away, “both of you need to stop.”

“Why should I, Felix?” It happens so quickly. Her eyes flickering to their class president and to Coriolanus. A newfound anger spills venom out of her pretty red lips, “He’s nothing, defective more like it. Swallowing down blockers like it’s crack.”

“Um, you don’t swallow crack,” Festus interjects before Persephone could stop him.

“Not the time, Festus.”

No comedic beat can disrupt the rage within Coriolanus Snow.

Arachne doesn’t know a thing about him, will criticize him as an omega all she wants to make her feel far more superior. Coriolanus decides to make her fall from her fragile pedestal.

“Defective?” He laughs hollowly, standing up to scare Arachne with his height. “That has to be the smartest rumor you can make, Arachne Crane. That way you’d be the prettiest omega, the most beloved.” He waves a hand out, as if he’s Lucky Flickerman presenting the weather. Coriolanus announces to the room, “Is that what you want? Such a silly title, really. I’d gladly crown you if you didn’t already wear a different tiara.”

“Excuse me?”

“I would never cast out my scent like a wide net. You on the other hand? I swear the whole school reeks of you, Arachne. I wouldn’t be surprised it was also in the teacher’s lounge.”

Arachne lunges for him.

With his outstretched arm, Coriolanus easily catches her shoulder but she still tries. Sharp nails target his neck, scent glands that strongly emit his fear when he feels the slightest touch graze him.

There is sick satisfaction in her grin, delighted to make Coriolanus crack. Her victory is short-lived as Coriolanus easily shoves her against Felix. He forces himself to stop being so afraid, to ignore panic and relish in anger forged from survival.

“It’s like what you said before, Arachne. I’m the top student, adorned by the masses,” Coriolanus smiles cruelly, “but I am not a failure of an omega like you.”

The room goes so quiet, flooded with the scent of vanilla becoming so terribly sour. The thick tension is hard to breathe, literally broadcasting how humiliated and mortified Arachne Crane is in this moment. If anything, it could confirm the awful things he said. Coriolanus doesn’t get the chance to think if he went too far, provoking Arachne right after she tried to attack him.

Because all in one second, an inferno of cherrywood envelopes the air.

Felix Ravinstill lays a gentle hand on Arachne, moving her aside to knock the desk out of his path. It nearly collides with Festus and Persephone but all eyes are on the enraged alpha.

It’s too much to bear, the overwhelming and dominating scent of a sweltering day in a dangerous garden. All of it is attacking Coriolanus’ senses as Felix grabs at his shirt collar.

A raging summer ensnares a frozen winter.

“Say one more thing about her,” Felix promises, their shared breath is frighteningly small, “and you’re dead, Snow.”

Omegas’ heat are all about peace and rest, of projecting calming pheromones. At the opposite end of the spectrum, alphas have their ruts. Aggressive, protective, and focused on eliminating threats.

Alphas only go into a rut to protect their own.

“Felix,” his shaky voice nearly cracks as one hand shifts over to clamp around his neck.

Too close to his scent glands, working overtime in emitting his horror and shock. He tries to grab at Felix’ arms, pry him off but there is a heightened stubbornness and anger in the alpha.

Coriolanus bites the inside of his cheek, thinking and thinking and failing to plan out the right words. His brain is screaming with the instincts of a prey, caught in the talons of a predator. To submit or beg or flee, but that’s not his main concern. Coriolanus is not horrified by the fact that he angered an alpha into a rut, suffocating from the blunt force of a dominating scent. No, he’s done something way worse.

He angered the grand-nephew of the president of Panem.

In a rut, Felix would be only satisfied by Coriolanus’ bloodied body, unconscious or otherwise. That’s a consequence Coriolanus could maybe live through.

Once it’s over?

This is all more than enough evidence that Felix will become Arachne Crane’s. She has every reason to hate Coriolanus Snow and now she will have the power to ruin his future.

When his eyes flickered to Arachne, a second to process her shock but awed expression, Felix guttural roars.

“Don’t look at her!”

Felix is in tunnel vision, solely focused on how he best thinks he can protect Arachne Crane. He has Coriolanus pinned in this disaster and the future ruin his mind jumps to. Coriolanus’ heart lurches in despair, an erratic heartbeat running for its life. All around him is the scent of burning cherrywood, a forest fire against his skin. It radiates a predator that waits for a trigger to start mauling.

There’s a shakiness in Felix’ muscles, hands clenching tighter, all with the impulse to finish what Arachne started. The fight response is all his brain knows, nails digging into tender flesh.

Alpha and omega, dynamics that overly express the need to protect.

Ruts and heats, the raw emotional dive to ensure the safety of the pack.

Predator and prey, the instincts that dictate survival.

In the eyes of everyone watching, Coriolanus Snow is the one who threatens that peace. One wrong move and it’s over. Yet, who’s to say that Coriolanus hasn’t already made foolish mistakes. Constantly antagonizing Arachne, pushing away Clemensia, always observing his classmates but never making an effort to actually befriend any of them.

Blinded by the need to see enemies in everyone, Coriolanus failed to make a single ally.

He can barely make out the shapes of Clemensia and the others. His eyes cannot leave the gaze of a predator, taking his time in watching Coriolanus squirm. All around them is a sea of red, an omen of what Coriolanus will become. Any part of his mind that is the identity of Coriolanus Snow is getting condensed and minimized by base instincts of fear. Nothing but flesh unmade, a hollowed out stomach, a rose striped of thorns and petals.

Coriolanus is all alone.

“Felix, let him go.”

It’s a voice only to be expected when all the grains have fallen in the hourglass. The time has been spent, a week has passed.

The plea is ignored. The alpha would never listen to an outsider.

Coriolanus on the other hand, melts at the smell of nutmeg. It only adds to his despair, knowing there is another witness to how snow will fall.

Yet Sejanus Plinth tries again.

“Arachne, please stop him,” Sejanus begs in that soft voice of his. A gentleness that has never reached anyone else’s ears.

All that hope is only in Sejanus. For a chilling moment, Coriolanus believes that she will say no, that Arachne will relish in how Coriolanus Snow will burn.

“Felix,” Arachne carefully approaches, still drenched in burning sugar. She places a hand on his arm, “That’s enough.”

The alpha listens to his omega, the epitome of instincts.

The moment Felix backs off, Coriolanus’s knees nearly give out. He’s trembling, as if he woke up from the nightmarish reality of the bomb raids. Distant explosions are a different kind of violence than bracing an alpha’s rut directly in his face.

Coriolanus Snow wouldn’t be able to talk or fight his way out of that. He still doesn’t know how to survive once Felix Ravinstill regains himself. No matter what, Felix is on Arachne’s side.

Who does Coriolanus have?

Nutmeg takes up the space around Coriolanus.

Sejanus catches him before he could tremble out of his skin.

“Are you alright?”

Noise comes out of his mouth, not words unfortunately. A delayed shock is still in overdrive from the foolish prey instincts inside of him. His neck bruises, his scent glands unharmed but still vulnerable to the world.

“Hey, hey, just focus on me.”

They’re on the floor, Sejanus kneeling at his side. A hand is cradling his cheek, the other is rubbing circles in his arm, soothing warmth and repetition onto his clammy skin. Coriolanus’ heart is still a scared, caged rabbit. Their eyes meet, warm brown eyes that show a kindness that Coriolanus has seen in those who care for him. Yet this time, there is no doubt or insecurity spewing from his paranoia. It’s quiet in the presence of Sejanus Plinth.

“I got you, Coriolanus, you’re alright now.”

It’s a singular act of kindness in this terrible moment. An anchor to latch onto, someone reliable and known for exactly one purpose.

Safety.

Coriolanus’ scent explodes out.

Spearmint.

It doesn’t broadcast fear or anger or every other emotion where Coriolanus felt like he lost control.

No, Coriolanus swears he has never felt this before.

His body feels too hot. It’s a feeling in his gut where ice cold coals are suddenly a bonfire. There’s a faintness threatening to take over, like one of his many dizzy spells from hunger. Yet Coriolanus’s mind doesn’t ache, breathing in his own scent of mint. A freshness like a cool breeze, a relief that juxtaposes the temperature his body is reaching.

While his body demands rest, Coriolanus’ consciousness is alert. It’s the opposite of a rut’s tunnel vision, Coriolanus feels utterly aware of the scents around him.

Burning cherrywood is still radiating off of Felix, getting soothed down by Arachne. Her own is still a mess of vanilla, sugar, and honey, too much and too sweet. They’re known threats, at bay for the moment but there’s an urge to get away from them.

Dissimilarly, there are scents that pull at his attention. Corioanus can barely sense the smell of lanvenders, pomegranates and basil leaves. Barely because his instincts are starving for the source of nutmeg.

Sejanus Plinth.

He hasn’t seen the alpha for what feels like forever. The little glimpses of him are not enough. Coriolanus presses his forehead against Sejanus’ before notching his nose to the neck, becoming drunk on the rich smell of nutmeg.

It brings out another burst of spearmint, sweeter, softer even.

Despite doing actions out of his character, Coriolanus hates to admit how this is what an omega does. The scenting, spreading out his own and craving others’. Drunk or high isn’t quite the accurate description. There’s no buzz or impulse controlling him, yet it’s a bone-deep need to collect each and every little thing that resonates with his nature.

His hands clutch on to Sejanus’ broad shoulders, one gliding up to feel the lack of curly brown hair.

“You shaved your hair.”

“Yeah.” Against his throat, Coriolanus feels the words more than hearing them. “It’s a long story but, yeah.”

The short hair tingles under Coriolanus’ fingers, tracing lazy circles. Coriolanus never got the chance to touch what should’ve been soft and curly.

Sejanus is quiet for a moment before reassuring, “They’ll grow back.”

Coriolanus didn’t voice his mourning for something so sentimental and yet Sejanus simply knew what to say. For the first time in forever, Coriolanus has no stress in his mind. His anxiety and fear are eased out, for now, letting the muscles in his body relax. He has the urge to lay down, to embrace the growing warmth and let his scent intertwine with those worthy of a pack bond.

Now that sudden thought snaps Coriolanus out of his daze. The picturesque calm and serenity is noticeably broken by his wide-eyed shock. Sejanus is practically cradling Coriolanus, preventing him from lying down.

“Coriolanus, we need to get you home.”

Verbalizing that truth is what gets Coriolanus to stand up, aided by Sejanus because his body is preparing for something he has never experienced. There’s a lethargic ache in his muscles, warring against his agency to get away from the crowd. He needs a temporary solution to reclaim himself.

Coriolanus turns to his only trusted person here, relying on logic and not his instincts.

“Clemensia, help me, please.”

Betas, those blessedly without the extremes of heats and ruts, have a different role in this strange world of theirs.

Clemensia is immediately at his side, cupping his neck and embracing him with lavenders. Her scent cools him down immensely, keeping the burning at bay. At the other side of the room, he sees Hilarius doing the same for Felix.

The scents of betas don’t fully nullify heats or ruts, perhaps in the pre-stages of the cycles it could but not when the person is in the fall of it. Unfortunately Coriolanus still feels the heat in his skin, a low flame that can and will grow stronger.

Another way to prevent this is isolation, something that Coriolanus specializes in. It starts by getting out of Sejanus’ arms. He couldn’t look Sejanus in the eye when he untangled himself from the alpha. Otherwise those brown eyes will lock him in.

Sejanus lets Coriolanus go. His willingness to do so spikes something cold into Coriolanus’ heart. He knows Sejanus is too kind for his own good, always needing to do these kind acts. Somehow, his final act of kindness is to leave Coriolanus alone, illusioned behind a choice. Coriolanus would never return the favor out of his own volition.

Their eyes meet and Coriolanus musters up to say with finality, “I don’t want handouts.”

Just as he feared, the world paused around them, memorizing the honest and concerned look Sejanus gives him. It’s not pity, nothing that demeans Coriolanus into something tiny.

“It’s your choice, Coriolanus,” Sejanus took one step back, creating space between them, “it always is.”

The air is still a warzone of scents, Coriolanus has to get out of it. Yet the allure of nutmeg makes him hesitate. It’s a weakness that needs to be stopped.

His mind is made up.

Coriolanus forces his legs to move.

Thanks for reading!

#my fic #snowjanus fic #snowjanus #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth

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strawberista · 8 months ago

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��— @rubiesintherough asked: —⚅ ⚅— Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours ( aedus shyly leaving this here ) —⚅

Muse Thought Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH

{Details under cut.}

{I'm going to put details here because I don't trust that I can contain everything in the tags. Hanekoma is extremely attached to Aedus at this point. He's very head-over-heels in love with him, and he's at the height of his interest in everything about Aedus and his life (even though he will not try to pry). However, that being said, his loyalty and especially his trust are a little lower. Loyalty will likely always be a little low. Hanekoma will always put two major things above Aedus, those being Joshua and Shibuya. Shibuya is his first and absolute greatest love, and he will destroy anything or anyone he has to in order to ensure its safety. During the original Impurification, he was willing to ensure Joshua's destruction in order to save Shibuya, callously. But it wasn't because he wanted to; only that he perceived the threat to Shibuya to be too much to let it slide. Should Aedus ever do something that threatens the safety of Shibuya, and Hanekoma cannot peacefully stop him, Hanekoma will se tout to stopping Aedus by whatever means necessary. Similarly, Joshua is perceived by Hanekoma to be his soulmate, literally, and therefore Hanekoma will place Joshua above any and all other people he makes a connection with, even family and lovers. Additionally, Hanekoma will only trust any romantic candidate once Joshua give him his approval. Considering that Joshua's mun has moved on to other things for the foreseeable future, as well as the fact that I moved Hanekoma's romantic relationships to being locked to non-canon, this event will likely be skipped and assumed going forward.}

{Trust is also something that is insanely difficult to raise for Hanekoma. In addition to the stipulation with Joshua, Hanekoma just has a difficult time getting through issues between being vulnerable with people and the fear of backlash from the Higher Plane. He has no proof that romantic relationships are even legal for angels in the first place, and he is already keeping so many secrets. Plus the fact that he has to share he is an angel in the first place and after he gets through all of that he then has to deal with the horrifying ordeal of being known. All in all, I think Hanekoma is in a place where he would happily share the secrets of his existence with Aedus, but he isn't in a place where he is comfortable being vulnerable, leading him to merely wanting to focus on Aedus's needs and desires for the relationship.}

#anonymity annoying me ⤙ooc⤚⚄#you still lack in experience ⤙answer⤚⚄#rubiesintherough #//oh lord that got a lot longer than expected #//under a cut it goes #long post tw

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camaro-hargrove · 10 months ago

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What Happened To Me?

word count: 1.3k

Billy wants to know everything. He wants to know what happened from the very start until right this second because he’s still not sure what happened to him and everyone is fucking ignoring him.

The nurses don’t say shit, just tend to his wounds and help him move around when he’s too weak to do so himself. After, you know, sacrificing himself after apparently being possessed but some interdimensional creature and still not even being told the full story.

He’s pissed off that no one tells him what’s going on. It’s all no disclosure agreements and government people and apparently being possessed doesn’t warrant an explanation.

So he tries to figure it out himself.

He, Max and Susan live in the trailer park now and apparently her little friends have joined Hellfire Club. Eddie has been begging Billy to join Hellfire as soon as Billy arrived in Hawkins and Billy always replied with a strong no. Sometimes he helped out on campaigns whilst getting high with Eddie in his room but that’s as far as it really got.

He’s been out most of the day, trying to find a job that will agree with his limited abilities right now when he comes home and finds all the lights in the caravan park flickering. He’s got an uneasy feeling as he walks up to his new home and turns when he hears something from the Munson trailer across the way.

Eddie flies out of the trailer like a bat out of hell and sees Billy staring in shock. He rushes over and drags Billy with him and suddenly Billy is holding on for dear life as Eddie speeds away from the trailer park.

“Chrissy” Eddie rubs a hand down his face “Fuck, man, her eyes, her arms fuck”

“What?”

“She died man” Eddie looks over, fear evident on his face “Her arms and legs fucking snapped and she was on my ceiling, it was like she was -”

“Possessed” Billy finished

“Yeah” Eddie shakes his head “Fuck, man, I was the last person to be seen with her and you know my reputation round here”

Billy’s not really sure how to respond but they end up at Reefer Rick’s place. Billy’s been here a couple of times before and Rick is…a character to say the least. He follows Eddie into the boat shed and then they just sit for a bit.

Eddie breaks the silence by telling Billy the story of what happened in the trailer. About Chrissy going to buy drugs from him - the biggest surprise to Billy if he’s being honest - and how all the lights were fucked and then she was in a trance he couldn’t snap her out of. It sounds insane and Billy would think this is some prank if he hadn’t gone through his own bout of terror only months earlier.

“There wasn’t a mall fire” Billy says after Eddie had finished his story “I mean, there was but that’s not the full story”

Eddie looks up at him with curious eyes and seems to understand that maybe Billy understood what happened more than he realised.

“Do you know what happened to Chrissy?” he asks

“I don’t know” Billy shakes his head “I don’t even really know what happened to me because no one will tell me”

“What happened to you?”

“I was possessed. I crashed my car outside the steel mill and this monster dragged me down and it went inside my mouth” Billy sniffs, turning away so Eddie wouldn’t see him cry. “I couldn’t get away and when I did I was in Hawkins but it wasn’t Hawkins”

Eddie is listening so intently that it momentarily stuns Billy. No one has ever paid this much attention while listening to him before. It gives him the confidence to keep on going because he’s never had anyone to talk about this until now.

“Sometimes I was myself but I have huge gaps of memory loss. I think I killed people” Billy whispers that last part “Like Heather, except I have no memory of it”

“Like Chrissy?” Eddie asks, leaning in closer.

Billy shakes his head, “I don’t know, I-I-I it made me try and bring him one of Max’s friends, El”

“Mike’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah”

“Thought she was fake” Eddie muses and the sincereness makes Billy burst into unexpected laughter. “But fuck, are you like, okay?”

“No” Billy wipes at his eyes “She saved me with her mind, she was in my head”

“What like…a psychic?”

“I don’t know” Billy replies, he lays down in the canoe and Eddie lies next to him, head next to his “She showed me my mum, before she left me”

“Oh”

“Yeah” Billy sighs “I was impaled by this creature and nearly died and still no one is telling the full story”

They lay there for what could be hours. Sometimes they chat but mostly they lie in silence, pulling the tarp over when they hear unfamiliar and sudden sounds. Billy’s never had a sleepover before but he imagines this is what they’re like, maybe not hiding in a shed in a canoe but he’ll take what he can get.

They awake to the sounds of birds and the sun shining through the trees and making the dust spiral in front of their eyes. Billy had managed to turn onto his side and now his body is aching. He didn’t bring his medication and his body is telling him so.

“Morning, sunshine” he jokes “Comfy?”

“No” Billy mumbles “I don’t have my meds and I’m in fucking agony”

“Right” Eddie nods “The whole monster impaling you. Was kinda hoping that was a dream, Chrissy too”

“I wish it was”

Billy slowly climbs out of the canoe, groaning as his scars pull and he does some soft stretches that he’s been assigned.

Eddie sits up and watches Billy stretch. He makes no comment when Billy’s shirt rides up and reveals the tail end of scars on his lower stomach. Neither made no move to find breakfast, still too worked up from the night before.

They chat idly, making a point to avoid all topics of last night and instead discuss the new Metallica single in depth. Billy already knows Eddie has pretty much mastered it on his guitar whether he wanted to listen to it or not, luckily he did want to hear it.

The sudden sound of car doors slamming have both of them diving back under the covers and holding their breaths. It’s gotten darker outside and the two of them crouch even further down as the boat shed doors open and multiple footsteps walk in. Someone picks up something next to them and Billy frowns when he hears Max’s voice. Of course it has something to do with her.

Before he can tell Eddie who it is, he’s grabbing a broken beer bottle and leaping out. Billy in a hurry follows and manages to grab him around the waist, sending both of them to the dirty ground in a pile. Eddie yells as he falls and Billy lets out an ‘oof’ as he lands on top of him awkwardly.

Billy looks up to see not just Max but Steve, Robin and who he thinks is Dustin staring at the two of them in shock.

“Uh” Steve starts to say something but is cut off by Max.

“Billy, what the fuck are you doing here?” Max asks “I thought you were at home!”

“Long story” Billy mutters, using the canoe as a leverage to stand up.

“Really long,” Eddie adds.

“Yeah” Steve drags the word out “About that”

“We can explain everything” Dustin says to Eddie

“Great” Eddie nods “Why don’t you start explaining everything from the start to Billy here, after he, you know, saved your little magical friends life”

Max, Dustin, Steve and Robin all look at one another as Billy stands there with his arms crossed and Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, a fierce look on his face.

“We’re waiting” Eddie sings sarcastically “Don’t be shy now, Billy deserves to know what he almost died for”

#billy hargrove #fanfic

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thesolferino · 4 years ago

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Blood Red

⤷ knight!dream x assassin!fem!reader.

— summary: technoblade hires you to kill sir dream at king george’s ball while he’s off duty; sir dream wants a dance with the peculiar lady wearing a peculiar gown.

A red gown flashes past the sea of white and baby pink ones in a dazzling fashion, one of a Duchess or a Countess, surely not of a simple lady, but it flies by quick, so quick that you simply don’t get to catch the face that matches it. Quick enough that it leaves you stunned, slow enough for a knight’s eagle eye to spot.

The red is dark, darker than the simple scarlet red that the women wore on top of their buns or at the ends of their braids in the form of carefully tied bows. It’s dark, a dark maroon red, walking the line between uncomfortably red and obviously brown finely, careful not to cross each side. It’s an unsettling red, which makes it even more intriguing, especially to a knight - a knight who dances, off-duty, but fails to keep his eyes on the Dame in front of him, and he’s sure it might’ve gotten him in trouble if the porcelain mask hadn’t stayed stapled on his face, shielding his eyes from betraying him.

The red is outstanding, eccentric amongst all the pale, and the knight isn’t the only one who steals a look - the red was noteworthy, among the rest, and wasn’t that what a killer like yourself was made to avoid? Getting seen, getting noticed? Being the center of attention was for the masterminds, after all, not the ones who get their hands dirty; somebody might catch them staining.

It was a bad idea, the ones in charge had said many times before, but you always wore red to the job. They always dumbly ask why, you always repeat the answer. The blood would become invisible, you said. It was as if nothing had happened, at all.

That’s why your maroon flashed amongst the sea of ivory and lavender unapologetically, beautifully shining against the blush pink tiles, matching red heels clacking in obedience with your footsteps, feet moving lightly, gracefully, as if made for such a setting.

And when the song decrescendoed into silence and the violins started moving in a different pattern, the knight callously let go of the Dame’s hand and his feet carried him to where his eyes remained fastened on for hours, pale hand outstretching to your own, finally getting to see your face for the first time in the evening.

The red was too much for a Lady, and that’s why he knew exactly who you were. Maybe not by name, or by age, but profession and motivation were a strong guess. He’d been waiting for this moment - might as well make the most of it.

“May I have this dance, miss?” He spoke, hand still hovering in the air calmly, as she stared dead into the mask, right where she could imagine his eyes were. The stare gave him the answer to an already solved question - your gaze gave away absolutely nothing, and that’s what made him sure of it all. You’re good at your job, he supposes.

Beats of silence pass as couples sway behind you, some more gracefully so than others. You set your hand in his, lightly, carefully, so timidly it almost made him rethink it all. How could such a hand commit such vile things?

“Alright.” You spoke in return, placing your hand behind his shoulder, touch still as soft as before before slipping your other hand in his, not letting your fingers intertwine the way he may have wanted them to. He placed his arm on your back, just below your armpit, beginning to dance and move towards the center of the ballroom.

“From what I’ve observed, you seem to be a good dancer.” He mused, stretching his hand to let you spin, gown flapping around as you did, and he could’ve sworn it might’ve left trails of stardust on the floor everywhere you stepped. You smiled, in a way that screamed at him to escape, but his hand stayed glued to yours, moving further.

“I know a couple of things here and there.”

“How come? Excuse me if I am being intrusive, but I have not seen you at many balls. At least not the ones I attend.” He knew exactly why this specific ball was the one she attended, and the whole conversation inevitably leads to the answer he’s already aware of - he just wants to see how good of a liar you are, though.

“This is my first time here. I’m not a woman of some importance.” You replied, charm beaming off you like rays of light off the sun, and Dream could almost feel his legs tripping after the very hem of your dress. He’s playing with fire, and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself and pour heaps of gasoline. He’s always been like that, and perhaps George hates him for it, but George doesn’t matter anymore - he doesn’t exist as long as he doesn’t look at him. He’s off duty, and if he wants to play with the fire that lights just to burn him, then he shall do exactly that.

“Oh, believe me, you are of utmost importance if I’ve ever seen some.” He says, and you reply with nothing, simply spinning another time under his arm that holds yours firmly. He takes it as an invitation to spark some panic in you.

“Besides, the color of your dress would suggest otherwise. How come a simple lady’s wearing such kitsch cloth?” Dream points out when the two of you move a bit farther back, led by you, and he’s just about impressed at how well you are at suppressing all of this, especially when you let out a perfectly timed, airy chuckle in response, not a single flash of fear or danger in your eyes. It’s the first time that night that he’s actually felt like prey. Techno taught you well, didn’t he?

“I don’t think you’re one to speak on that, Sir Dream.” you respond, eyes flashing from the collar of his basil green suit to the nicely paired olive points of his shoes, back to the hollow eyes of the mask with a mischievous glint in your eye. He exhales a laugh.

“The color is pretty, isn’t it? Aren’t simple ladies allowed to feel like Duchesses every once in a while?” you continue, pulling the two of you mere centimeters closer, enough for any of the passing guests not to spare a single look, and enough for him to notice what you’re doing. He can almost feel a bead of sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. Maybe he’s more scared of death than he thought.

“I don’t think you’re a simple lady.” He professed, following your lead. You were pulling him dangerously close to the south side, where the balcony stood. You were impressingly good at this. “Simple ladies don’t have knives strapped to their thigh.”

He waited for a slip up, and he got none. Not a single hitch in your breathing, a stutter of your tongue - your lips, marked with a red lipstick that suddenly looked a lot like smeared blood even though it wasn’t, simply stretched into another coy smile. You say nothing, simply keep dancing, feet moving in a little bit of a different direction now, as to delay the operation, and he likes to think that’s enough of a slip up.

“Are you scared of death, Sir Dream?” Violins stammer in staccatos behind him, an awful representation of the tension he knows both of you feel, yet not a single other soul in the room can behold. The back of his neck grows warmer, and maybe it’s fondness, maybe lust, or maybe danger and that known feeling of being the prey in this situation, that he taps in with one foot, the other safely yet artificially placed on predator territory, because he refuses to admit he’s no longer the one with the upper hand, and his leg has lifted off predator land long, long ago.

“My death will be nothing more than a false victory to you.” He offers instead of an answer, hips swaying to the music and steals a glance at the rest of the couples dancing. It’s such an airy atmosphere, so calm, casual yet fancy, elegant. Gowns fly around and snake around naked ankles, but none of them are as pretty as yours. Dream refuses to think about the way his blood would look soaking it, and that’s when it clicks. You’re not so dumb, after all.

“I suppose it will, but your murder will be a true one.” you say, and your feet are tapping on the tiles a few feet too close to the balcony. Dream feels crazy, still dancing like this. He feels crazy, and maybe he should ask for help, scream, but he doesn’t. He dances on, dancing until either the stars or you take him.

“Will you feel alive if I take it off? Will he be more satisfied?” His head moves comically, just to bring attention to the mask that feels so unbelievably tight and suffocating, the strings pressing to the back of his head, threatening to snap. He wants them to snap so badly.

“It’s too late for me to feel alive now. I’ve been dead for years, and I’ll stay that way. Whatever you want, though, honey.” Your voice feels more like music than the actual musing of the fuse of piano and strings in his ears, and he still feels crazy. He feels high on something he’s never known. You haven’t killed him yet - maybe you’re high as well.

“I can bring people back to life.” He replies simply, six simple words that are nothing more than conversation fuel, but they hold so much meaning that he can’t miss the glint in your eyes. Your step falters for a second, but the knight’s eagle eye never misses.

“You don’t want me alive, you want yourself alive.” You whisper, heels clacking louder and louder now. Dream is convinced he’s going insane, but his feet move at their own accord, of their own body and soul.

“I want both of us.”

“Only one gets to stay.” You say, and it doesn’t make his blood go cold like he expects it to. It’s sort of depressing to know that his heart accepted his morality so quickly, much quicker than his stubborn brain.

“I don’t think you want me to go, though.” It’s one hell of a ballsy move, but when you press your lips together, he knows he’s done it. Unsure how, but happy he did, nonetheless.

“I’m quite unsure of what I want, I must say. Sir Technoblade does, though.” You spit his name out, and it forces an unwilling laugh out of Dream.

“Be careful, it’s death you’re dancing with.” You say, gaze as fiery as ever, reflecting the blood of your dress and the blinding lights of the chandelier that light your eyes on fire. He returns the gaze just the same.

“May I get one last dance with Death, then, before she makes up her mind?” The knight cheekily smiles, even though you can’t see it, but he’s sure you feel it. Your hand manages to go warmer in his own when you grip it tighter, and he thinks he’s got his answer.

“You know what? Death’s a pretty good dancer, but so are you. She’ll allow it.”

#dream x reader #dream imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream angst #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream fluff

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kpop-cakepops · 4 years ago

Note

I will gladly read any Wonwoo fluff you would give us be it snuggle donation or otherwise! But if I can be more specific in requesting, how about a missed connection sort of thing? Like the reader and Wonwoo have similar circles of friends who think they’d hit it off, but somehow they just never manage to be at the same events, but then they end up meeting separate from their friends and do hit it off, only to be a couple before their friends even know they’ve met? If that’s too specific, totally do whatever you want with the idea. Welcome to Wonwoo brain domination (my friend incepted my mind last year too and it’s been all Wonwoo all of the time since!)

omg this is actually such a good prompt?!?!?!!? What the hell?! Thank you anon!!!

So this one actually took way longer than expected because I knew what I wanted to do but I didn't know how to not make it confusing? So the best I could do was use time skips in this one, anything in italics are flashbacks.... I HOPE IT'S NOT CONFUSING! Anyhow, I had so much fun writing this! Enjoy! (PS. I didn't edit so excuse any grammar mistakes LOLz)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,863

Meant To Be// Jeon WonwooXfem!Reader

"There he is again... I wonder if he's single." your older sister said as she struggled to keep your baby nephew from running away from the bench the two of you were sitting at.

"Probably not," you told her as you bit into your popsicle. "He's handsome. Probably has a bunch of girls lining up to get his number"

"He's playing video games at a park, I seriously doubt that" your sister added.

"I think it's kinda cute. At least he comes out because he wants to" you looked over at your sister who was now too busy chasing after your little nephew to even listen to you. "Aaaaand I was talking to myself. Cool."

You huffed and looked over at the man sat two benches over. He seemed to be having fun on his Nintendo switch and you were sure you weren't having fun babysitting your sister while she tried to babysit her own son... so you took matters into your own hands and walked yourself over to the man.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" You asked.

The stranger looked up from his game and moved to the side making space for you to sit down. He didn't talk at all but didn't show himself to be rude either. You took the chance to take out your own console.

"What are you playing?" You asked.

He turned around and looked at your hands, his eyes widening a little but the look of surprise was replaced by a smile almost instantly. "Super Smash Bros."

You didn't know what you expected his voice to sound like, but it certainly hadn't been the deep tone you had just received. "Damn, nice voice" you blurted.

He let out a laugh, "what's your name?"

"I'm y/n" you introduced yourself putting your hand out to shake his, "and you?"

He took your hand cautiously, "I'm Wonwoo"

***

"How does this dress look?" You asked as you twirled in front of your now boyfriend of 3 months, Wonwoo.

He smiled approvingly, "baby you look just as amazing as you did in the last dress. You really don't have to worry too much about impressing my friends, they're all a bunch of idiots."

"Well, yes, but... what if they don't like me? I'm the reason you refused all those blind dates they kept setting you up on." You told him.

"And I'm the reason you refused yours, the time will come when I have to meet your friends, too. I promise you there's no reason for us to be worried." He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

"I'm just excited to finally meet your friends," you told him. "I want to make a good impression."

"The way you make me smile should be impressive enough, no?" He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Getting a little cheesy there, aren't we?" You poked his stomach and pulled away. "Anyways. We should get going or we're going to be late!"

***

"You should come up. Some of my friends are still up there. We could hang out" said Wonwoo as he pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. His tall frame rocking back and forth as he watched you wistfully.

"I really wish I could, but I actually have to go back to work in a bit. I just didn't want for your birthday gift to get to your hands after your special day" You shyly admitted. He held his hand to the necklace that was now hanging from his neck. The pendant hanging from it depicting the Smash ball from the game's logo. Something about him immediately putting the necklace on making your heart race.

"I really wish you could stay, but I guess, you'll just have to make it up to me some other day." He said.

You reached out your pinky and he wrapped his own with yours. "I promise" You told him.

He smiled and you waited expectantly for his nose to scrunch up like you'd learned it would in the last 4 months of knowing the guy. It was weird how after fighting off cheesy romance and dates, you ended up developing a crush on some random guy you'd met at the park.

The both of you stood there for a moment, pinkies linked together as you let the sparks envelope you both. It was obvious you liked each other, however, neither of you seemed to know who should make the first move... nor did you know when.

***

You and Wonwoo arrived at the large hotel his friends had told him to meet them at. A shiver ran down your spine making you take a nervous deep breath. Your boyfriend grinned at your cuteness and squeezed your hand softly before guiding you towards the entrance.

"Oh, God... Maybe I should've brought a gift?" You grumbled as you followed Wonwoo into the hotel. A sudden feeling of guilt taking over you as you remember your own friend, Jihoon, was having a graduation dinner that you couldn't go to because of this. You'd managed to drop off a gift for him days before, but it still bugged you. Jihoon was one of your closest friends after all.

"Honey, it's totally fine. I promise Jihoon won't mind that you didn't bring him a gift" he assured you as he held the door of the fancy restaurant open for you.

"Wait, what did you say?" You asked as you stopped in your tracks. Your boyfriend shooting you a confused look.

"Y-N?"

***

"I don't know, I think my favorite has to be biographies. I'm just nosy" you laughed, Wonwoo following along.

"Hmmm, I mean, biographies are nice, but I've been into humanities lately. It's interesting" He shrugged and licked at his ice cream cone happily. "I used to hate it in high school but I think as I grew up a grew more interested in the way people live... outside of just myself."

"Wow..." you mused.

"What? Was that sexy?" he joked.

You shook your head, "No, you're such a nerd" You teased.

"Hey!" he quipped bumping his shoulder into yours.

"Watch it! I almost dropped my ice cream cone!" Your attempt to seem angry failed by the big smile on your face. It seemed that was all you did around Wonwoo anyways. Smile.

"What flavor is that?" he asked as he eyed your cone curiously.

You put the cone up to his lips, "Butter pecan" You didn't know what exactly you were expecting when you put the cone up to his lips, 75% of you had thought he'd playfully push your hand away while calling it a grandma flavor as he usually did, while the resting 25% of you thought he'd just ignore it and keep walking... but both assumptions were wrong. Wonwoo grabbed your hand with his free one holding the cone in place before getting a taste. It was absolutely insane how much that made your heart race. "Hey! what was that all about?"

"I want to get a taste... but I can't... taste it... maybe I should-" He froze mid-sentence. Wonwoo was nervous. His face was a deep pink as he eyed you closely.

"W-Wonwoo. Are you trying to kiss me right now?" You asked. You wanted to scream and run away but you also wanted to stick around and see if he would.

"I was supposed to be at a blind date today" He admitted.

"Me too," you told him.

"But all I could think of was you" He continued.

"Me too," you agreed once again.

"Y/N, I like you."

***

"What the hell is going on here?" Jihoon's face was twisted in confusion as he stared between the two of you.

"You know each other?" Asked Wonwoo.

Jihoon blinked hurriedly before finding his voice again, "Uh, I think I should be the one asking you that!"

"My head is about to explode" You murmured.

"Yah, Jihoon, Dokyeom just spilled- Oh, Y/N? What are you doing here... with Wonwoo?" Yet another one of your best friends walked out of the restaurant, Jeongyeon's large eyes looking at you and your boyfriend with the same confused expression as Jihoon.

"They got here together," Jihoon announced.

"You two know each other?" Asked Jeongyeon.

"Yeah, Wonwoo's my boyfriend"

"Yeah... we're dating" Wonwoo agreed.

"WHAT?!"

***

"Y/N, pleaseeeeee? I promise you're going to love this guy. He is such a sweet person, he will literally blow you away, and he's handsome! Did I mention he's handsome?!" Jeongyeon's hands were clasped together in front of her chest. It was once a month that she begged for you to go on a blind date with that guy she always talked about, but you shook your head.

"No."

"Why not?! What is it this time!?" Your pretty friend exclaimed as she crossed her arms across her chest.'I have a boyfriend now' You thought, a small smile coming to your lips at the thought of Wonwoo.

"I'm not interested in dating Jjeong. Please, can't we just let it go?" you asked with a soft huff. "We have better things to do anyway. Come on, why don't you let me take a look at your thesis so far."

Jeongyeon huffed and started to pull out her laptop from her book bag. "I can't wait till you meet him. You're gonna regret it"

***

"Wait, pause... so you mean to tell me that we spent ALL THOSE MONTHS trying to set the two of you up... only for you two to meet at a random park and fall in love?!" Soonyoung was being his usual dramatic self again as he glared at you two from across the table.

"I mean, we didn't fall in love right off the bat... but yes. You could say that" Wonwoo answered.

"Wow! I just got chills. I JUST GOT CHILLS!" Dokyeom added as he dramatically hugged himself.

"I just don't understand why neither of you guys told us you were dating! Like... How did we miss it? Where did you hide each other?" Asked Jisoo with a confused frown.

"We didn't. We were friends for about 4 months before we started dating. I even went to drop off his gift at his apartment on his birthday."

"The necklace! I knew I'd seen it somewhere!" Seungcheol exclaimed with wide eyes. "You sent me a picture of the thing and asked if you should get it black or purple!"

"I also asked you for tips on how to confess to a girl over ice cream and got me laughed at." Wonwoo huffed under his breath.

You laughed and shook your head. "You were right, Woo. Your friends are indeed a bunch of idiots"

"Wow... You guys are meant to be. You guys are seriously meant to be. There is no doubt in my mind. I guess when soulmates are meant to meet, they will." chirped Jihoon who kept picking at his plate. "Now that that's all out, I'd like to take a moment to talk about how if Y/N hadn't been dating Wonwoo, she would have missed my graduation dinner for a man. What have you got to say for yourself, traitor?"

"Uh..."

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gojology · 4 years ago

Text

Job Benefits. (Part 4)

❝...𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑵, 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑶𝑼𝑻.❞

CONSPIRING. - Chapter Four

you can find part three here :

part three : routines

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader warnings : cursing, no proof reading, no editing wordcount : 2494 a/n : this is so bad, i... i am so sorry. in my defense i haven’t written in a while, but i hope u guys still like this regardless </3

Almost immediately after stepping foot into the room, you’re greeted with a minimalist, yet clean looking interior. Large window panes with Tokyo’s beautiful sunlight filtering into the already lively room. There’s a few co-workers you can see sitting by the vending machines on plush arm-rest chairs, the cushions colored a beautiful tan alongside oak wood arm rests and chair legs. Others are on their phone, texting and furiously tapping and a feeling of anxiety immediately eats you up whole. You were seriously starting to regret coming down here, what was the point other then to make Gojo jealous? You could’ve very well eaten in your office- and what you were doing was childish anyways. You stood in the entrance way of the room, nervously fidgeting, eyes scanning for Keto Sugaeru amongst the faces that were starting to blend in. You can only vaguely remember how he looks like from the few visits he had made to Gojo’s office, jet black hair, usually tied in a bun, always a kind, yet careless smirk on his face. He was handsome, which would be a definitive beacon amongst the rather disgruntled looking office workers. “Hey, are you gonna move or what? Blocking the damn way.” You hear a gruff impatient voice behind you, and you twist around, stumbling with the newfound height of your high heels as you did so. A man’s eyes bored into your own, glaring at you with a mix of hatred and annoyance. You gulp, finding yourself unable to respond, instead averting your gaze to the floor meekly. “You gonna talk? We don’t have all day, sheesh, they’re hiring anyone into the workforce nowadays huh-” “I’m sorry- I uh, I’m r-really new here so...” modestly giving the man a kind smile, but he seemed to have no patience for you. As if a divine being heard his rude comment and immediately swept down with some karma, a firm, large hand is placed onto the man’s shoulder that you hadn’t seen prior. It gripped the flesh tightly, and the mysterious man glared directly down at the now squeaking rude one. “Did I hear that right?” is all he says, a few co-workers are twisting their heads towards the altercation, now you’re sweating bullets. You grip onto your lunch so tightly you’re afraid it might burst, and those incredibly long fingers of his are inching towards the stout man’s collar. Eventually, the perplexing man smiles kindly, retracting his hands to his sides, now lifeless and slack. “Please, Nishima, refrain from picking on people. We don’t tolerate this in the office, and don’t be dumb enough to do it in front of someone who has direct connections to the Gojo family. Run along now, I’ll leave you off at a warning. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” The man grumbled a few times, kicking at the floor before heading out, you turn your head to thank the man, looking at him with an admirable gaze, but you realize something- He has the jet black long hair you were searching for before any of this happened, it’s tied up in a bun, and it looked ridiculously smooth and soft. Something you’d pay to drag your hands through and play with. He has that carefree grin displayed on his handsome features, shamelessly showing off his good looks. Tall, and he definitely had a familiar voice that took you a while to put a finger on it. This had to be him. “You frozen girlie? I haven’t seen you around in the lunch room- here go sit there, that seat’s super comfy.” he gestures to one chair, and you snap out of your trance, nodding in response, yet still unable to fully register what just happened to you. “Sugaeru?” you blurt out, your eyes wide while stumbling like a just born fawn towards the spotless table. How good was your luck today? He came to you. “Suguru.” he corrects, looking back at you, a teasing curve to his lips. “Holy, you completely butchered my name, I think I know you from somewhere-” for a second, he looks like he’s seriously thinking before he beams. “You’re Gojo’s secretary, Y/N, aren’t you? What brings you down here? Gojo told me that you’re usually reserved in your own little world and you do everything in your office.” You stammer, still unable to believe your luck, but your shoulders are relaxing and the tension has completely evaporated into thin air. “Uh, yeah I’m Satoru’s secretary. I- Um, I wanted to... Get some water?” that was a horrible lie, even for you. “Rookie mistake.” Suguru pulls out the aforementioned chair for you before walking to the other side of the table to place his lunch on the tabletop carefully. “Water here is super overpriced. You should bring some from your own house if that’s the case! Colleague to colleague, just don’t tell anyone I said that, or else I’ll get in trouble.” winking at you, he twists the lid to his container presumably holding his food, instantaneously a cloud of steam emerges and a delicious scent wafts through the room. After a moment of silence between the two of you as you both opened your lunches, you clear your throat, meaning to make conversation. “Thank you for saving me back there.” sheepishly, you smile at him. “It’s really appreciated, I just couldn’t believe how rude a person could be, especially since u-uh... You know, he could’ve, like, just walked around me?” stuttering, you grab your utensils in an effort to look relaxed and comfortable, even though you had no idea how to speak to him. “Atta girl, no problem.” he responds warmly. You feel safe in his shadow. “Hey, if your Gojo’s friend, you’re my friend. Don’t worry about it. I heard you’re new to the office.” he pauses, looking around the now bustling room before covering the sides of his mouth and whispering towards you. “Secretary position was open for a while because no sane person in Tokyo wants to be Gojo’s secretary.” sitting back down while snickering, he takes a bite out of his lunch. Giggling, you finally ease up. As opposed to Gojo, Suguru’s more sincere and straight to the point. He’s funny in his own way without being obnoxious. You scoff. “Yeah, I can see how anyone could go insane from working with the guy. It was the only good secretary position open, though...” you muse aloud. Suguru crosses his arm over his chest, your eyes carefully surveying his attractive figure as he does so, a thoughtful smile on his face. “Well, imagine being friends with him for more than 15 years. I’m sure I’ve gotten a few screws loose.” he says suggestively, wriggling his eyebrows. You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh- but it just spills out of your lips, and you forget that you just met the guy, that’s just how friendly he was. “Don’t say that!” “What? It’s true!” You didn’t quite know it just that, but a seed was planted that day- you and Geto’s relationship, and it would only blossom from there. ‧₊˚✩彡. Gojo’s paranoid. It seems like there’s a secret that he’s not in on, he realizes that Geto’s visits to his office are growing more and more frequent, yet he spends less time at his office, rather, spends all of his time at yours. Feeling left out was never a positive emotion. In response, Gojo would increase his visiting between the two of you, “accidentally” walking in on the both of you casually chatting, but it’s like he’s a ghost in the room. He’d get a few lukewarm stares and a few polite greetings, but that was that. He’s not sure if it’s jealousy, or what. He knows he should be supportive of his best friend potentially getting a girlfriend, and he tries to be- but something about Geto and you together really pissed him off, he just doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s the way the pairing between you two seemed so natural, it would be almost sure that a relationship would occur soon that angered him. Having dating co-workers was almost never a good thing. Deep down he knows that’s not it. As the weeks past by, the visiting grew almost unbearable, hearing your laughter- your giggles- from jokes that weren’t from him was infuriating. Listening to the repetitive clicking of your heels down the stairs into the break room was driving him insane, and eventually he can’t even open an email or do anything involved with work. You and Geto were constantly on his mind, and he’s morbidly curious as to when the friendship occurred- or if it was possibly more than that. His first attempt at getting to the bottom of things was bringing it up between the two of them, him and Geto, just as casual chit-chat, but it didn’t go exactly as planned. Geto would have a sympathetic, almost mocking grin on his lips, but those eyes of his were telling enough. It was a whole other book of lust and need, for you. Brushing the topic off with a wave of dismissal, he’d chuckle and put a mask of friendliness on, but Gojo’s known Geto enough to see where this was going. He couldn’t have this, everything was brought to him on a silver platter, so it was only natural for him to feel like he needs you, even if he didn’t. Perhaps you were another trophy to his endless collection to him, he just didn’t know. He’d never felt so strongly of a woman, much less his secretary, something was brewing inside of him. One thing he doesn’t understand is why Geto. He’s flawless in appearance, restless, impossibly good at sex, why weren’t you stroking his ego? Whatever, this was another topic of conversation, what he needed to do now was win you back. He calculated in his office the average time in which Geto would visit, music drowning out the muffled talking, and finally he’s ready and absolutely certain that this would be a good time to chat you up. Having everything planned out, an aura of confidence radiated from him. “Y/N!” you hear a chirp from the door, lifting your head up in excitement, you realize it’s not your beloved Suguru, rather, it’s Gojo. Gluing your eyes back on your computer screen, not even bothering to peel them away, you clear your throat in acknowledgement. “Sir?” A smug grin flickers across his face for just a second before he pulls out one of the chairs across from your desk, scooching it a bit further away for some extra leg room before promptly sitting down. “Knew you’d remember to call me sir, I knew I hired well when you stepped into the interview room, so sharp.” You don’t detect a shred of sarcasm in his compliment, and finally you turn your gaze upon his face. This was certainly out of the ordinary for you, as he hadn’t visited as often with Geto in the picture now. Gojo’s not wearing the iconic black shades that concealed his cerulean eyes, now, they’re out for you- his private audience. His eyes are brimming with energy and mischief, almost like a child’s. They’re transfixing, like diamonds handpicked and placed into his eyes. You’re overwhelmed from your work once again- a direct consequence of Gojo neglecting his own, yet something about this greeting reminded you of one of the first few times he had visited you, when he stole your carrot pen. Thus, causing you to direct your undivided attention towards him, he seemed promising, after all, what was the worst that could happen? “That’s besides the point, Mr. Satoru. Is there any reason why you came here? I’m actually finishing up a report right now and the deadline is in two days.” taking your coffee mug up from it’s usual spot on the tabletop, you sigh in relief as the warm liquid goes down your throat and set it back down, anticipating his answer. In usual fashion, Gojo chuckles good-heartedly. “It’s your fourth month anniversary you’ve been working here, or third, or second, fuck like I remember. This is a cause for celebration and you’re worrying about finishing up a report?” “You’d know better then to come to me with an offer of slacking off if you knew my fourth month anniversary of working here was coming up.” you respond coolly. His eyes slightly widen, before he lets out a dry chuckle. “Ah, I missed my sassy secretary, say, why don’t we celebrate? We can go out for a staff dinner in celebration. I’ll pay, no need to worry. It’ll be confidential information between the two of us.” tugging at his collar, he quirks an eyebrow, you’re visibly thinking. “Does this imply you want this dinner to only be between the two of us? Why’s that?” you pry, a tinge of hesitance in your pitch. Ah, shit. This was going off the tracks. Gojo taking a hand to his chest defensively, he loudly announced, “It’s important to build a positive connection between the two of us! We’ll be working together for years to come, of course. So skeptical of you, why do you look so down?” the retort was cheeky, and good at that, as it left you speechless. “I’m not sad, or anything-” you pause, your mind had gone blank. “I- Um... I-” attempting to return to your work instead, you give him a dirty look, but he stares back with such intensity you don’t know how to feel. “I’m doing work, don’t screw up my train of thought, please?” “You definitely weren’t saying that when I offered to take you out to eat, come on, spit it out.” he tsks. Utterly defeated, you sigh. “I wanted to invite someone.” you spit out, obviously embarrassed. Gojo pretends to act shocked, before excitedly inquiring, “And who might that be?” “G-Geto.” there was no point in lying now. He oohs, looking down at your shaking hands and back up at your face. “Ooooh, Y/N has a crush on my best bud? Who woulda thought!?” Your cheeks going warm, you shake your head furiously. “No I don’t! I- Mr. S- Sir! This is so unprofessional of you!” stuttering, you drop your head on the desk, arms pillowing the sides of your head and groaning. “How cute. Anyways, you accept that dinner date?” You lift your head back up, sniffling. “It’s not a date!” Giving you a shit-eating grin again, his eyes twinkle. “Oh, but it is.” “I- Aghhhhh!” putting your head back down on the desk, this time without your arms, you don’t know how to respond, so instead you make a mockery of yourself. Laughing, Gojo decides not to tease and you and instead says, “Meet me in Shibuya district, there’s a super nice restaurant, I’ll drive to your house, no need to worry about transportation. 9 PM, see you there!” his voice grew more distant down the hallway, you can still hear the clicking of his shoes and his deep humming. So you had a date tonight, Now how would that go?

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emf005 · 3 years ago

Text

Cramps

James Sirius Potter x Female! reader

Warnings: Puberty, James being the cutest thing ever, pain, couple cuss words for pizzaz(Maybe)

:readmore:

“Oi! Y/L/N!” You smiled as you saw the one and only James Sirius Potter strutting up the hallway with his band of trouble makers behind him. Most of them were his family, but a few were unrelated family members(Very Very close friends.)

“Oi! Potter!” You called back teasingly.

“Having a bad hair day today?” He smirked, looking you up and down. You rolled your eyes and touched your crappily put in braid. It may have looked like it, but you weren’t having a bad hair day. You were just crap at doing hair.

“Nope. Having a hard time coming up with insults? Am I too perfect for the James Potter to insult me?” You joked. You always took the teasing light heartedly. You listened to this song over the summer called Sarcasm. It was pretty good. But one of the lines that stood out to you were “Sticks and stones can break my bones but anything you say will only fuel my lungs”. It wasn't like you let him get to you before this, but you had only rarely hit him back with a come back. Now, you always threw one back.

“Ha! Perfect? You? Those two words shouldn’t be in a sentence together, Y/L/N.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaving him confused. You strode off down the hall with a swing in your hips. “Perfect is too dull of a word to describe me, Sweetheart!” You called over your shoulder with a wink. You disappeared behind the corner as you heard his friends laughing.

They knew you were light hearted about it. You were actually pretty close with a few of them. But James was competitive in everything. And for some reason he had chosen you to be his muse for picking on. You didn’t know why, nor did you actually care. You always liked a bit of banter, especially around this time of the month. And no, you weren;t a werewolf (Though you would gladly take that over having your period)

See, all periods come with their… side effects. Hormones bounce crazily off the walls and make some moody. Some get cramps. Some get both. Some break out and others(A very few minority) just have it without anything to think about. You had it worse than anyone.

Cramps. That may have been all you got, but they were so bad that walking, breathing, talking, or even moving could be impossible. You were once nearly paralyzed for a whole week and a half. You only moved to go to the bathroom. Your mom had to actually feed you. You were a very active person, you can only imagine how insane that made you.

Madame Pomfrey, your great Grandmother and god mother because that woman is a queen, always took care of you during these times and often threw things at you because you weren’t taking good enough care of yourself. You loved the woman dearly, but wow could she yell at you.

You watched James and his crew head down to the quidditch pitch for practice while you skipped down to Hagrid's. You loved to play quidditch but never wanted to play on the team. You knew you weren’t good enough for that and you would rather have just messed around with some friends.

“Hey Hagrid!” You said happily and plopped down by a pumpkin. He turned around from tending his garden and smiled at you.

“ ‘ello, Y/N. How ‘er you today?”

“Alright I guess. How about you? Any new creatures come crawling around?”

“Not yet. But I suspect they’ll show up soon.”

“Need any help?”

“You know where the tools are.” You hopped up, but not too fast because.. Well.. you know, and grabbed a pair of gloves and shoved them in your pocket in case he let you tend to the Biting thorns again. You had a knack for everything Herbology and Magical creates. You were Professor Longbottom and Hargrid’s favorite student, you knew it. I mean, you definitely were, no doubt.

About three hours later you started to get a stabbing pain in your lower stomach, losing your breath for a moment.

Shit

“Hey, Hagrid, I think I’m going to clean up before dinner. I only have a few minutes and I doubt anyone wants to be sitting next to my smelly butt.” You laughed, the stabbing getting worse.

“I’ll see ya there, Y/N! Thanks fer tha help!”

“Anytime!” You jogged away from him and a relaxing Fang so you could visit your great gran. Well, she wasn’t technically related to you. She was a close friend of your grandmother’s. They had gone to school together and been (And still were) closer than sisters. You grew up with her and she had become very over protective of you.

You waltzed into the hospital wing with a smile on your face. You were used to the stabbing pains. You had a very high pain tolerance, I mean, you had to.

“Gran!” You yelled out, not even flinching when you felt another annoying stab.

Madame Pomfrey came walking over to you with her arms crossed over her chest.

“You haven’t come to see me all week. Does this mean that you have finally come to your senses?”

“Oh, you make such a big deal out of everything. I barely have felt anything so far, and plus it's only Wednesday, perhaps I was just busy.” She gave you a knowing look. She always knew. You didn’t know how, but she always did. “Well, anyhow, I was helping Hagrid and the stabs were a bit worse than normal. Got anything that’ll just subside that?”

“I have the potion you should've been taking since the beginning of the week, young lady.”

“It's nothing major, Gran. Just something small. I don’t need the whole nine yards.” She sighed. You were the only person who she would give into.

“Fine, but don't come crying to me when you are hurting so badly that you can't move.” She was about to walk away when the doors banged open. You two looked over and saw James and his crew walking in. Madame Pomfrey sighed. “What is it now, Mr. Potter?”

“Don’t know I-”

“Fell off your broom and landed wrong while you were trying to do some wicked trick. I know. Set him on the table. I’ll be there in a-”

“I have to take a shower, Madame Pomfrey. I’ll come back later. Feel better, James! Hi guys!” You waved at them all and jogged off, ignoring your gran calling after you. Oh, yeah, another thing about you. You really didn’t like attention. You also didn’t like the fact that there was someone in more need of help than you and you were getting the help first. James needed more help than you did, you would just come back later… You thought you would.

You had planned to go back after dinner, but you didn’t. A friend asked you with help on the Divination homework. You decided to go the next day. Asked to help first years. Friday? No. Dueling club and extra studying. Before you knew it, it was Saturday and you were in so much pain. But you just kept going.

You were headed down to the quidditch pitch to watch Lysander and a few of his buddies play against Albus and Scorpius and a few of their friends. It was just a scrimmage, nothing major, but they all liked to have an audience. And since they all knew and liked you, they asked if you wanted to join. What you didn’t count on was James being there.

“Well well well. Look who we got here?” You looked over to see James, alone, walking over to you.

“Hey, James.” You said a bit weakly and short of breath.

“You alright?” You just nodded. He seemed to get more concerned. “Are you sure? You don’t look so good?” You laughed.

“Yeah well, I have my good days and my bad ones,” you joked, thinking he was teasing you again. He wasn't.

“Y/N. Stop for a second.” You did and turned to him.

“Are you sure you're alright? You look really pale and tired.”

“I’m fine. I promise.” You smiled and continued down to the pitch with him besides you. That's when the worst one you have had in a while hit you with full force, knock every ounce of wind out of you.

You collapsed and held your stomach, trying to take deep breaths like you had taught yourself to do.

“Y/N!” You felt a hand on your back and another on your arm.” What's wrong? What happened?”

“N-nothing. I’m-Ah!” You collapsed completely to your knees. The throbbing hurt so bad. It was like someone was digging a knife in you and just twirling it around.

“Obviously something. What can I do?”

“Take-take me to-to Gran. Please.”

“Gran, who's Gran?”

“Sorry. Madam Pomfrey.” He nodded and helped you up, putting an arm around you to keep you up.

“You're explaining that to me later.” You laughed, which only made it worse. “Can you walk faster? You're getting paler by the second.”

“This is… as fast… as I can… go.”

“Here,” he moved in front of you and bent down. “Get on my beck, it’ll be faster, alright?”

“James you really don’t have-”

“I want to. Come on.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and he, carefully, hoisted you up. He quickly walked to the hospital wing, being cautious as to not bump you around too much. “Madame Pomfrey!” He yelled when he banged the doors open like he always does. A dramatic entrance for a dramatic boy. You heard the oh so familiar sigh.

“What did you do this time, James?” She walked around the corner and saw you on James' back, her eyes widened in horror and she quickly moved into action. “Put her down here,” she opened up a section and he set you down carefully. She quickly ran away and started to gather stuff. James stood beside your bed and stared at you oddly.

“What?”

“What happened? You seemed fine the other day. Are you sick or-”

“I’m really fine, it's just.. Um… girl stuff?” His eyes widened in understanding (Not horror).

“OH! Oh Merlin, are you ok? What do you need, like literally anything?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“It's just cramps,” you shrugged, confused by his reactions. Normally anything under the topic of puberty or periods boys were off running. Even your own brothers.

“Not just cramps, young lady.” Your gran scolded and walked in, holding a bottle of the potion you were supposed to be taking. It really didn’t do much. And it tasted horrible. “These are getting worse as you get older.” You glanced at James.

“Ok. You don’t have to be talking about this with him here. No offence.” He just shrugged.

“You have to start taking this seriously!”

“Gran, I do! I was just busy!”

"You came in and then you left without taking it, telling me you would be back!”

“I got side tracked! And James was in more pain than I was!” Your voice was horse and it was getting harder to talk and breathe. She handed you the potion and you chugged it.

“You left because of me?” James asked. You swallowed the rest of the foul tasting liquid.

“You needed her attention. And then someone needed help on homework and it just” you coughed, making your stomach knot again. “Got out of hand.”

“Thank you for bringing her up, Mr. Potter. You can leave.”

“But-”

“She needs her rest.”

“Tell the boys I’m sorry I missed the game.” He hesitated but nodded and left. Your Gran scolded you for a few moments before she left and told you to get some sleep, which you did.

The next day your friends visited you and you ignored the pains. They weren’t as bad as yesterday’s, but they were still pretty bad.

Soon they left and that just left you sitting hour after hour. You were still awake when it was one in the morning and you heard footsteps coming towards your bed. You figured it was your gran coming to check on you so you shut your eyes and pretended to be asleep.

They set something on the table and you opened your eyes seeing James.

“James?” He was startled and jumped a bit. He looked down at you with guilt on his face.

“Sorry,” He whispered. “Did I wake you?” You sat up slowly.

“No. I’ve been up. Kind of hard to sleep.” You moved over and motioned for him to sit, which he did.

“Cause of the…”

“Cramps?”

“Yes.”

“Yep. You know, you’re a lot cooler with this stuff than a lot of boys your age are.”

“I never understood that. I mean, it's something that happens. Why do guys have to be so weird about it? Plus my little sister goes through it so…”

“That's right! Your sister’s Lily.”

“Yeah. She gets pretty bad cramps too, but not as bad as you, I think.”

“No one gets them as bad as me, which I’m grateful for.”

“So the potion doesn't really work?”

“Takes a bit of the edge off, but other than that? No.”

“I’m sorry.” You just shrugged and shifted. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You smiled.

“You’re sweet, James. But, I’m afraid not.”

“Well, I do know one thing I can do.”

“What?” He grabbed whatever he had sat on the bedside table and set it on your lap. It was a basket full of chocolates. Your eyes lit up at the sight.

“Holy Merlin! Where did you get all this?”

“I have my ways. I remember Lily said chocolate always makes her feel better so I figured it would help you too.”

“Wow. James! Thank you! Can I…”

“No. Absolutely not. I just brought it down here so that it can stare you in the face. You aren’t allowed to eat one piece of it.” You smirked at him and didn;t reach for a piece, just to see what he would do. “Oh my go, I was joking.” You laughed.

“I know I know!” You grabbed two pieces and handed one to him. He looked at it and then back up at you before taking it. You opened your piece quickly and bit into it. “Eat! Come on, you are stayen for a bit aren’t ya?”

“Why would you want me to?”

“Because you're my friend.”

“Why would you consider me that?”

“Because you helped me out a lot and you gave me food. We also talk all the time. Why? You don’t want to be friends?”

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be mine.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve bullied you countless times.”

“That was just playful banter. I've seen you bully people. You were just teasing me.” He stared down at the candy.

“But still…”

“James, listen. I want to be your friend. If you don’t want to be mine I guess that's alright, but I've always wanted to be your friend.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You seem really cool. And you are really nice. I've seen you with your siblings and your friends and have always been kinda jealous. I've never really had that," you shrugged and took another bite from your chocolate bar.

"You have all sorts of friends, though."

"Yeah but I'm kind of the replaceable friend. And then my family is a bucket load of insane. So I guess I’m sort of jealous. Like this.” you motioned to the chocolate and at him. “I have been having this happen since first year and my friends come in once to check on me unless they need help on something. I guess it's kind of childish, but-”

“No.” You looked at him, a bit shocked at his tone. “That's not childish at all! How are they your friends if you’re in pain and they don’t come to see you unless they need something?”

“James, it's not that big of a deal. I have a high pain tolerance and plus I have gran worrying over me.”

“Oh please explain that to me. You're her granddaughter?”

“Well, sort of. Great granddaughter, and honorary. Her and my grandma were as close as sisters when they went to Hogwarts and stayed that way throughout life. And when I lost my great gran and both my nans, she stepped up. Very over protective of me.” He smirked and leaned on his legs.

“I’d say. ‘Get out, Potter. I appreciate you bringing her up but I don’t want you here.” he mimicked her voice, and not too terribly. You started to laugh, making your stomach knot in protest. You groaned and fell back on your bed. “Oh! Sorry. Do you need another pillow? More blankets? Chocolate?” You smiled gratefully at him.

“No. Just gotta wait it out. Thank you though.” You smiled at him gratefully and you two talked until you fell asleep. He smiled, finding it odd how much he actually liked you. Every “conversation” he had he always enjoyed. Always enjoyed your banter in the halls and in class, but he had never actually talked to you before.

He stood up and pulled the blanket over you more so that your shoulders and arms were covered. He put the chocolate on the bedside table and brushed the wrappers off of the bed so that it wasn’t a mess when you woke up in the morning.

He then snuck out of the infirmary and back into his dorm room. James was surprised to see that his last thought before falling asleep was of you and hoping you felt better. He really hadn’t realized how much fun you were.

You weren’t in classes that day. Madame Pomfrey seemed to be punishing you and kept you in bed, bringing you meals from the great hall while you survived on James’ chocolate. You were reading over your notes when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, chocolate half in your mouth, to see James standing with a plate and his school bag.

“Hi James! Back already?” He laughed and sat down where he had sat the other day.

“You weren’t in class or the great hall. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“That's sweet. Thank you. I’m feeling lots better, but Gran won’t let me go to classes yet. She wants to monitor me and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He slid the plate of food and your face lit up. Sweets and meats, your favorite.

“Figured you would be hungry.”

“Starved! Yet again, thank you.”

“It's what friends do,” he said with a nod. You smiled happily. Friends. You had finally made it to friends with James Sirius Potter. “I also brought notes. In case you wanted to copy them.” He pulled his notes from his bag and handed them to you. You grabbed it and started to flip through the surprisingly clean and crisp notes. This boy took better notes than you do. That was unexpected.

“Thank you, James! I was a bit worried I was going to be overrun again.” He shrugged and stole a swipe of Mashed Potatoes off your plate. You smirked at him but didn’t say anything.

He sat and talked to you while you ate and then helped you with homework when you set your plate aside and started to work on notes.

“Here. Like this.” He moved next to you up by the head board and held your wrist, showing you the proper hand motions for DADA. You tried to focus on the correction and not your burning cheeks.

Damn hormones.

“There you go. Now try it without a helping hand.” You shoved him and laughed.

“That was terrible!” He smiled crookedly, fixing his glasses.

“Yeah, but you laughed.’ You bit your lip and shook your head.

“You, sir, are utterly ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m sir now.” He joked, settling back by your feet. You kicked his leg lightly. “OW! OH MERLIN SHE KICKED ME! I THINK MY LEGS COMING OFF!” He fell to the ground dramatically causing you to burst out from laughter and your stomach to continue to knot up over and over, but you couldn’t stop. He was twitching dramatically on the ground like a dork.

Madam Pomfrey came over and tapped her foot agitatedly.

“This is no place for fooling around, Mr.Potter. Either stay and behave or leave.” She turned and cast you a glance before walking away. You two burst out laughing when you heard her door shut. He popped back up onto the bed.

“So, what have you been up to? I've caught you up on all you’ve missed.” You just shrugged.

“Studying. It's really all I can do. She won’t even let me stand up.”

“Well that's no fun. You haven’t even been outside?”

“Nope. Her one rule is stay in the bed. Not allowed to stand, unless it's to go to the bathroom, which has to be the one in this room.”

“Why so specific.”

“Second year I went to the restroom, on the fourth floor on the other side of the castle.” James chuckled and looked over his shoulder.

“Well, how about we make her get even more specific?”

“What did you have in mind?” He snuck over to where the wheel chairs were and rode it over. A wide grin spread across your face.

“Your carriage awaits.” You laughed and quickly hopped in. He then ran, pushing you in front of him. You two ran through the castle laughing like mad people.

“What's this?” Fred asked, a smirk on his face as he and Erinie Longbottom came out of the great hall.

“Never thought I’d see you two get along, let alone laughing.”

“Mischief is mischief.” James shrugged and stood up on the back of the wheelchair.

“Madame Pomfrey has forbidden me from walking.” You explained. “James just wanted to get me into some trouble.” Ernie looked at the wheel chair, a slow grin spreading on his face.

“Why don’t we all get into some trouble then.” He cast a spell on the wheels on the wheel chair before making three more appear. “Now, you can control it on your own and so can we.” He sat down in his and went zooming off. You, Fred, and James watched with smiles on your faces. They quickly sat into theirs and the three of you chased after Ernie. Who knew you would become such quick friends with James and that would leave you to get into a bit of mayhem with him.

You four raced down the halls but all stopped abruptly by a tapping of a foot. You all looked up to see Madame Pomfrey standing there with her arms folded across her chest. You swore under your breath.

“Madame Pomfrey!” Ernie squeaked and fell out of his chair. “Uh, we didn’t see you there?” You shook your head at the lame excuse.

“Madame Pomfrey I-”

“You, with me, now.” You sighed and rolled after her. Waving bye to the boys. They waved back and watched you go.

“So.” Fred said with a smirk on his face. “Finally come to your senses?”

“Shut up.” James muttered, feeling a bit guilty that you were the only one who got into trouble. It had been his idea after all.

“I told you that it wasn’t a smart idea to get out of your bed!” Your gran scolded as she wheeled you into the Hospital wing.

“Technically you said I wasn’t allowed to stand up unless it was to use the restroom. I was not standing up, I was sitting down. And what's the big deal? I’m fine! It's almost over anyhow!” She groaned in frustration. “Gran, I’m in 5th year. I think I can make decisions for myself now.” She looked at you for a moment before sighing.

“Alright. But, you have to promise me, when you start to get bad you will come straight-Oh!” You hugged her tight around the waist and she patted your head.

“Thank you, Gran.”

“Yes yes. And you should be careful around that Potter boy.”

“Which one?” You asked cheekily.

“Now don’t you get cheeky on my young lady. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t you go falling in love with him. I’ve actually had girls come in because they said that he broke their heart. Like his name sakes,” she shook her head and walked away leaving you thinking.

You wouldn’t get a crush on James, would you? I mean, sure he was tall and cute and a dork with an adorable personality that kind of made your heart flutter. But that didn’t mean you- You smacked your head.

“Dammit. How could I have let that happen?” You muttered to yourself. You silently cursed your gran. You had been blissfully unaware and now you were very much aware that you had a tiny crush on James Sirius Potter. This ought to go over well.

Over the years you had only grown closer to James and his friends. Mostly James though. It was rare not to see you two together. You both would jam pack your schedules so you would have each other in classes. You knew he did it because of your cramps and how you didn’t really discuss it with anybody or like to bring it up. So when they got too bad and you couldn’t go to classes he would bring you your notes and help you study, like you didn;t help each other study any how. But now, now it was all going to change. You had passed your last year at Hogwarts and were now lying on your couch in pain. You had taken the potion your gran had sent you but the potion had seemed to do less and less over the years while James had done more and more.

You had a pile of letters in the corner that he had sent you. You two had sent back and forth non-stop, both of you now having your own separate apartments that were, sadly, not very close to each other. Of course, you could just apparate to the others house but you wouldn’t really do that on a daily basis, sadly.

You had sent him a letter the other day and found it weird you hadn’t gotten one in response yet, but you weren;t the most important thing in his life, sadly. As you and James had grown more attached, your crush on him had grown and grown and grown. Being away from him for so long, This was your first month, and knowing that you weren’t going back on September first to see him and your other friends was killing you. How could people live without knowing if they would ever go back to Hogwarts? It may sound cheesy and a bit cliche, but it was and forever will be your home.

There was a knock on the door as another wave hit you and now you had to stand up and pretend you were alright. You looked at your empty chocolate bag, you really should’ve stocked up after the last time.

You opened the door and leaned heavily on it as you looked up into the familiar glass covered eyes.

“James!?” He beamed happily.

“Miss me that much? We’ve only been out of school for about a month.” You chuckled and shook your head.

“You’re such a dork. What are you doing here?” He held up a abox.

“Figured you would have forgotten to restock since Hogwarts, like you always do.”

“How do you remember these things? And why would you want to?” You opened the door and let him in. He strode in and looked around your apartment. He wasn’t familiar with it yet.He set it down on the kitchen counter and jumped up onto it to look around the place, nodding in approval.

“Nice place.”

“You say that everytime you come over.” You said sarcastically as you grabbed the jacket you had thrown on the floor after work. It caused your stomach to cramp and you were stuck for a second because you were trying to breathe.

“Ok, couch, now.” James said, grabbing your arms and leading you over to the couch, setting you down and taking your jacket.

“James, you really don’t have to-”

“Yeah I do. Stay.” He left your side and went to the box. “Did you take the potion?”

“Yeah. Did nothing as usual.” You whined, he sat back down and opened the box, pulling out two candy bars and handing you one, like he always did, and keeping one for himself.

“Sorry, kid.”

“I am like a week younger than you!”

“A month and a half,” he corrected. You glared and bit into your chocolate, making him laugh and look around your apartment until his eyes landed on a moving picture you had put up. It was from the first year you two became friends. He walked over to it and took it off the wall. “You still have this?” You smiled.

“Of course! That was the first Weasley Summer I had! It was the best summer of my life!” You laughed lightly smiling at the memory of James trying to get you on a broom. And then you had crashed into four trees until you semi-got the hang of that.

“Didn’t you get a concussion from that summer?”

“Don’t know, wouldn’t let anyone check.” You laughed, your stomach cramping again, but not as bad as usual. He smiled and hung it back on the wall. He sat back down next to you.

“How've you been, though? You always sound like you're doing great in your letters.”

“It's been alright. Adult life isn’t terrible and my job’s pretty fun. I've been thinking about getting a dog.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

“Yep, and I was going to name it Sirius.” His face turned disappointed.

“You know, I brought you chocolate, you can at least be a bit nicer to me.” you giggled.

“I’m joking, I'm joking. But yeah. I do want a dog.”

“Get lonely up here already?”

“Definitely. How are you? You seem like you are having a good time in your letters. Var hopping every weekend.”

“You can join us. We’d love to have you hang with us.” You shrugged.

“Well, definitely not this weekend.”

“No, definitely not. Though you look like you could use a bottle of fire whiskey.”

“I need two.” He laughed and put his arm around your shoulders, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I felt ya there.”

The rest of the night, James hung out with you. Chocolate and talking and radio and, when you were feeling up to it, he made you dance with him because he’s the biggest jerk in the world.

It was now near midnight and you two were on the couch listening to old muggle records because why not. You were half asleep on James’ chest. He was playing with your hair and humming along to the song. It was a familiar position for you two. Madame Pomfrey had once caught you two like this, though James had been the only one awake. She had looked at him and then at you back in sixth year.

“Be careful there, Mr. Potter. I do not want her getting hurt.” And then she turned and left. He had planned on telling you that morning, but the thought that he would hurt you in any way had kept him from saying anything. But now… Now he couldn't help it. The smell of your shampoo and the way you smelt like chocolate and… and he couldn't help it. This had been the most fun he had had since Hogwarts had left out. All because he was with you.

“Y/N?” He whispered, just in case you were asleep. He knew how hard it was for you to actually fall asleep when you got these cramps.

You hummed in response. Half asleep, but not completely. He took a breath.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You hummed again.

“I love you.” He didn’t get a response this time and thought you had fallen asleep. He was a bit relieved that you hadn’t heard. The other part was a bit disappointed.

“What?”

Shit.

“I-I love you.”

You sat up and looked him in the eye. He knew this look. You were trying to detect a lie, he let you look. And boy, did you take your time.

“You-You do?”

“I do. I get it if you don’t in return but I just had to-” You grabbed his collar and pressed his lips to your quickly. His eyes widened in surprise before he quickly kissed you back. You pulled apart and both of you were smiling messes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You said, biting your lip.

“Seriously?” He pulled back from you with wide eyes. You nodded nervously. “How long?”

“The first time you helped me, I guess. And I wouldn’t have even realized it if Gran hadn’t said anything to me.”

“You’re joking.” You shook your head.” He kissed you again, taking you by surprise.

“Why? How long for you?”

“End of fifth. I was going to tell you in sixth but…”

“But what?” You looked at him. “James…”

“Your Gran scared me.”

“What did she do?” You sighed.

“Nothing!”

“James, I am too tired, what?”

“She just told me not to hurt you.” You frowned and looked at your hands.

“And you planned to?”

“No! No no no no.” He pulled your face up to his and smiled. “I was scared that I might. I got scared that I would be the reason you were in pain. I didn’t want that. I didn’t even want to think that I would be the reason for that. So, I thought it was better to not do anything but be there for you.” You stared at him for a moment and bit your lip, thinking over and being completely touched. And you believed him. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I-I was scared.” You rested your head on his shoulder to hide your face, embarrassed that your feelings had been reciprocated this whole time.

“Of what?”

You muttered something that he didn’t catch.

“Come on, I spilled my heart out to you, your turn.”

“That I’d lose the best friend I've ever had.” You muttered a bit louder. He heard this and couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. He pulled you onto him and leaned against the arm of the sofa so you were on top of him. You looked at him, confused. You head was on his chest again and your eyes were fluttering shut again.

“You’re not going to lose me, Y/N.” He said with a smile. You smiled into his chest and wanted to say something but your mind was already powering down. You felt his lips press against your hair. “You won’t ever lose me. Good night, Y/N.” You murmured an incoherent goodnight, but he got the point and smiled before falling himself.

You woke up in the morning to smell the most wonderful smell you ever had smelt before… Bacon.

You groaned and sat up, a bit confused as to why you were smelling bacon. You thought it was just your mind at first and your mind wandered back to the dream you had had of James. You wished it were true. The kiss seemed so real, so perfect. You pushed yourself off the couch and your foot hit a box. Your eyes widened immediately. You opened it and saw a group of empty chocolate wrappers.

Oh no…

You turned around quickly and saw James’ back in your kitchen over the stove. Then you heard the sizzle of food cooking on your unused stove, since you were a wreck in the kitchen. ANd then you heard James’ humming. That wasn;t an illusion.

“James?” He turned around and smiled.

“About time you woke up. I thought you were dead for a little while there.” You pushed yourself off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen. “Coffee in the cup.” You looked down to a steaming cup.

“I’m not so convinced yet.” He chuckled and slid the food onto two separate plates handing one to you. “I didn’t even know that worked.” You muttered looking at the stove.

“Figured. You can’t cook to save your life.”

You threw a piece of bacon at him, which he gladly ate.

“Did you stay all night?” You asked half way through breakfast.

“I figured we should talk this morning.” You nodded and bit your lip. So it did happen.

“Right so we… kissed.”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.” The silence turned awkward.

“Ok, I’m just going to say it, then. I don’t know how much you remember but everything I said, I meant. I really do like you, Y/N.” You bit your lip and smiled.

“I-I think I remember enough to know that I have told you the same. And I-I meant it to.”

“Really?”

“Really, James. I meant it all and I really do like you alot.” You smiled. And he let out a sigh and collapsed into his chair.

“That is a huge relief.”

“Tell me about it. So what do we do now? What happens?”

“I think I'll ask you out.”

“And I obviously would say yes.”

“And then we go to a… quidditch game?”

“And I’d buy the snacks after arguing with you about money.”

“Right. And then I would completely sweep you off your feet when I book the stadium for afterwards and teach you how to ride more.”

“Of course, unless I blow you away with my mad skills.” He beamed.

“Which is very possible with the way you ride.” You laughed.

“So when would this hypothetical date take place?”

“Saturday at six?”

“I think I could be there. If you were to ask me, of course.”

“Well maybe I’m getting there.”

“Maybe you should hurry up before we spend another three years without each other.”

“Y/N, would you go out with me?”

“Yes.” You said smiling. He returned your smile with a crooked one of his own.

“Then I’ll pick you up here, and I am buying the snacks.”

“James you are no-pop-James Potter you get back here!” You yelled to the open air laughing as your best friend-boyfriend- apperated from your apartment.

You bit your lip and leaned on your hand.

You got a date with the boy you loved. And who would’ve thought it would all be because of a terrible time dealing with cramps?

#james sirius potter #hp fluff #fluff fic #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #madame pomfrey #chocolate fic #one shot

42 notes · View notes

captainjimothycarter · 3 years ago

Note

What are Steve's wedding vows to Peggy?

Hey i wrote something since like Saturday. kinda proud of myself despite BAD anxiety over this.

“Are you ready, Steve?”

The question came from Edwin Jarvis, the man sticking his head in through the curtains to smile at the nervous Captain. Steve just held up the bowtie in despair, trying to hide the shake in his fingers.

“I can mull down hundreds of Nazis. I can fight Hydra to the bone and-and nearly be killed by a frozen tundra, but what defeats me is a god dang bow tie!”

Jarvis laughed as he stepped into the small side room, giving him a comforting smile. “You know,” he mused as he started to do the tie. “When I was marrying my Ana, I was so nervous I fainted right as we got to I do.”

Steve felt himself gap, looking the man up and down. He could picture that, not that he would say it. He felt like he might faint before he even got out to where Bucky and Colonel Phillips were waiting for him.

“When I came to, my head was in Ana’s lap and I insisted she was an angel. She practically is - not that I’ll ever insist anything different. She’s never let me live that down, that rascal. The point is, Captain Rogers,” the man smirked as he finished the tie and smoothed it out along Steve’s neck. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I’m...Captain America, I shouldn’t be nervous, I wasn’t nervous when-”

“Let me ask you something,” Jarvis spoke over him, patting the guy’s shoulders to get him to sit down. He pulled a comb out of nowhere and started to fix Steve’s mousy hair from his constant fingers combing through it. All Steve could do was look on in the mirror. “When you bulldozed through of Hydra agents or lead your Howling Commandos through countless missions or did whatever you did in what the reports do not say, were you nervous?”

“Of course not, those guys depended on me. I couldn’t afford to be nervous or second think my actions, someone might’ve died.” Plenty of people did, in ways Steve could’ve never stopped or predicted unless he’d been there, but he was one person.

Not that Jarvis was asking about this.

“Exactly. They depended on you. You needed to be ready for anything, to overcome anything Hydra would’ve thrown at you. Yet with Miss Carter, you’re nervous about your wedding? It’s practically a tradition to be nervous. Do you know what that means?”

“That I’ll fumble my vows or drop the rings and it’ll roll into a gutter, never to be seen again?”

Jarvis snorted and lightly squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “No, Captain Rogers, it does not. It means that you love her. You love Miss Carter with every fiber of your being. It means you, my friend, will have an amazing wedding and marriage. Even if you do fumble, you can do no worse than me and fainting.”

Steve covered his face, trying to stabilize his breathing. He did love Peggy - Jarvis was right. There was no doubt about that. He loved her. Loved her so damn much he might explode. He just...was nervous.

“Being nervous,” Jarvis continued as he put the comb away and tilted Steve’s head up to inspect himself in the black and white suit. “Being nervous is a tradition. It means you love her. I’m sure Miss Carter is nervous too.”

Steve’s mouth opened to counter, Peggy couldn’t be nervous - he’s seen her stare enemies dead in the eye and not miss a beat. He’s seen her let herself get shot if it meant saving the hostage. He’s seen her survive countless trails and still stand on top at the end of the day. There’s no way Peggy was nervous. Yet, the second he opened his mouth to say something, Bucky stuck his head through the curtain.

His hair was perfectly parted thanks to his mother’s intervention. He was sure the second his ma wasn’t looking, he would mess it up. The suit he wore was a little on the older side, insisting he got to wear his dad’s suit to this wedding.

“You ready, Stevie? That green isn’t a good shade, bud.”

Steve gently swatted at Bucky’s chest as he adjusted the suit once more, trying to take in a deep breath to calm down.

“Shut up. I’m just...nervous. How’s everything looking? We ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be. Ole Phillips is grumbling as ever. Dugan is waiting up there, Angie is ready. We’ve already had to stop the niece and nephew from throwing the flowers everywhere.”

“Oliver and Penny really like those roses, huh?” Steve’s lips twitched into a small laugh at the idea of the kids going haywire with those roses. “And Peggy? Is she…?”

“Ana and Rose and even Howard are in there, it’s alright.” Seeing his friend’s panic look, he smoothed down his suit again, the metallic hand glimmering in the dull light of the chapel. “Let’s get this party started and get you two crazy kids married.”

“Always knew you two would end up together,” Phillips grunted as Steve stood nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “From the second she laid eyes on that scrawny form of yours.”

Steve laughed, a more forceful laugh given the nervous state he was in. He watched Jarvis politely sit down after checking in on the girls, Rose already coming up to stand by them. Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder, squeezing him too hard.

“Told you,” he chuckled. “You two were meant to be…”

“‘cept you shouldn’t have shown up in the bar when we were having your public funeral,” Dugan interjected. “Not the best idea, Cap.”

“You’re lucky Carter didn’t shoot you on the spot, coming up with a soiled uniform, and half that glass in your chest,” Phillips grunted.

“Wouldn’t have hurt as bad, if-”

Steve stopped the second he heard Ana playing the piano, turning on his heels and towards the door.

He watched Oliver and Penny run through with the flowers, throwing them everywhere but the floor. His little giggle and the laugh through the chapel made him relax a little, but the second he saw Peggy, everything was back in full force.

She was...beautiful, spectacular. A thousand words he couldn’t think to say. His mind nothing but a fine-tuned sound of buzzing as he watched her slowly walk through that door. Ana had worked perfectly on that dress, the trim, the lace, every down to the last details of the pearls knitted into the collar.

Steve could feel the tears burning in his eyes as she slowly stood in front of him, hearing in the corner of his mind, Phillips muttering about sap.

He loved her.

“You look…” Steve struggled with the word as he held onto her glove-laced hands, looking down at them and slowly back to those beautiful hazel eyes that he’d fallen in love with before he even knew what color they were.

“I know,” Peggy finished, squeezing his hands. “You look pretty dashing yourself. We-”

“How about we get this show on the road, huh?” Phillips asked, breaking the silence, and the music slowly melted into the background. “We all knew we’d end up here today. It was just a matter of time and if it was legal or not. I expected you two to just waltz into my tent one day and demand to be married, the laws and logic be damned.”

“Almost,” Steve mused, shrugging his shoulders. Phillips’ grey eyes were trained on him, brow rose as if to ask what. “I proposed to Peggy after she’d been shot during the hostage situation of ‘44.”

“Son.” The tone said all and the Howling Commandos laughed the loudest. Steve glanced over to see Peggy’s side of the family, most with pursed lips. They still weren’t pleased that their daughter was marrying a Yankee.

“We told him to do it,” Dugan interjected.

“Dared him, actually,” Jones added.

“Double-dog dared him,” Bucky said.

“Actually, we told him to do it or we would on his behalf,” Pinky reminded them.

“We-”

Phillips’ look silenced Falsworth on the spot, the man clearing his throat and stepping back in line. “We’re no longer at war, boys, you don’t have to keep defending your Captain under insane circumstances. I’ll never forget about the damn goat incident.”

It was only a few minutes later before Phillips cleared his throat again and nodded towards the couple. “The couple has written their own vows. Ca-Steve, would you like to go first?”

Steve blinked as he felt Peggy’s eyes on him, trying to calm his racing heart down. “Okay, yeah. Yeah,” he breathed, taking the paper Dugan had passed him. “I stayed up till 4 in the morning working on this. Mr. Jarvis had to eventually take the pen from me so I’d sleep.”

“And he didn’t accept my help,” Howard muttered just loud enough for Steve to hear, making the Captain flush.

“Okay, here it goes,” Steve breathed, unfolding the paper and trying not to let how nervous he was shown. His hands were already starting to shake and he was afraid sweat would ruin the ink.

Peggy’s hand gently closed around his wrist and offered him a comforting smile. “It’s okay, darling. Just us. Not a whole platoon of guys to play Star-Spangled Man With A Plan.”

If he wasn’t blushing then, he was now.

“Peggy, I…” Steve looked down at the paper and back up at her. He could hear Jarvis’s voice in the back of his head telling him that when he got up there, he’d know what to say. Fumbling or not.

“Peggy, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you and I didn’t know it. I didn’t know what the color of your lips was or the color of your eyes or your hair or even your uniform. I didn’t know the true sound of your voice or the smell of the roses on your skin. I didn’t know much then - hell I don’t know much now -”

A few people laughed and Steve lowered the paper, looking dead into his wife-to-be eyes.

“I didn’t know much then. I just knew you were hell on high heels and damn anyone who got in your path. When you first knocked out Hodge, I felt my breath taken away. When you ran for the grenade too, I wanted my last sight to be of you, swore I was goin’ blow myself up to a million pieces. Our first conversation in that car might’ve been one of our lasts and I was glad it was with you, someone who understood me. Understood what it was like to be discriminated against because we’re us… Because I was sickly and small and you were a woman, a girl, a-”

“You still don’t know how to talk to women, do you?” Peggy asked, blinking the tears from her eyes and making Steve give a wet laugh.

“I”m afraid not, how I managed to get you to fall in love with me is a wonder. The point is, Pegs, I love you, from the bottom of my heart. All through the war, we talked about what we wanted after. I insisted on a white-picket fence, a house in some neighborhood, that we’d build the perfect life together and well...you saw where that lead us. Me to a watery grave and you punching me out when I showed up at that bar. Even if I was late for our dance.

I just...I love you. Life has taken us on insane turns from clearing our friend’s name to-to living in LA for a few months. To...to here. To me finally getting the guts to purpose to you. Or more like catching my breath. I need you in my life and I’m lucky to have you. I’m more than happy to sit on the sidelines and let you work, to raise our kids or tend to a home, to do anything you ask. I’m more than happy to just be yours. I just...I need to be yours like I need to breathe. You are my life, Peggy Carter, and I’ll have no other but you. I’m lucky to be your husband, to be by your side through it all.”

Peggy didn’t bother to hide the few tears running down her face, thankful Angie had fixed her makeup just right to prevent the tear streaks from showing. She cleared her face off with the handkerchief Rose had given her and sniffled.

“Sap,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I stayed up late last night but not writing these vows. I...told myself I knew what I was going to say when I got up here, but I’m mistaken. I can only say I love you, Steve Rogers. You are my life. My soul. When I was young, I insisted I wouldn’t marry. I insisted my life was to slay dragons, rescue knights, be a pirate. To be anything but the lady my mother wanted me to be.

I insisted I knew what I wanted for myself. That I-I wanted to be a codebreaker and I was good at it. I-”

“And saved our lives with it,” Howard said, causing them to laugh.

“Yes, Howard, thank you. I am good at it. I’m great at it. I insisted that’s all I could do to help the war effort, to maybe consider becoming a nurse but my mother and Fred forbidden it. I insisted I loved Fred because my mother did. I insisted that I could do some good by staying home, being the good wife, and keeping my head down. I insisted on a lot of things but for myself…

It took Micheal’s death for me to see there was more for me out there. The SSR was life-changing for me. Getting to serve under Colonel Phillips’ here, getting to meet you, even if you were...different.”

“It’s okay, call him a shrimp like I did,” Phillips interjected, making Peggy give a wet chuckle. “Kid got that sandwich after all.”

He swore the man smiled at him - even if Steve wouldn’t admit it.

“You were different. You stood out from the rest and it was because of your good heart. Yes the grenade incident, but you helped the nurses around the base. You helped collect herbs for them when we ran out of pain killers, you remembered decades-old healing practices that your mother taught you. You gave some of the guys, even if they were bastards to you, advice on how to fix their broken shoelaces or how to even hide the knives better in their clothes. You were kind and sweet-hearted and I wanted you from the start.

Even after your serum, you didn’t change. You saved that kid. You saved me, even if I was quite upset about it.”

“You did yell at me a lot for pushing you out of the way,” Steve interrupted, remembering that chaotic day.

“You were running with no shoes on and shoved me out of the way of an oncoming car. I had to yell about something.” She smoothed down his suit and sighed, shaking the veil. “Even after that, Steve, I...I love you. I loved you from the start. During the war, that love only grew. I thought we hid it well.”

“No,” Bucky snorted. “No, you two did not. Everyone knew.”

“Yes, thank you, James,” Peggy huffed, giving her friend a roll of her eyes. “That love for you grew and I’m only sorry we didn’t act sooner, that we didn’t kiss more or-or risk it to just touch each other in blatant public when we needed the comfort because it was a war. I am sorry that it took this long to get here - but we’re here. Look at us. We’re here, sweetheart. We’re getting married after all in a setting of our choice, with our friends and family. It’s worth the wait.”

“You’re always worth the wait,” Steve whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you,” Peggy whispered, squeezing his hands. “I loved you then, to now, and forevermore. I’ll never stop loving you, no part of my soul will be complete without you. You are my light, Steven Grant Rogers, as I am your compass, your true star north. You are my light and I want nothing more from you than a life that we paved together.”

There was no dry eye around them, even the grisled Colonel was sniffing slightly and wiping at his eyes. He squeezed the book in his hand and gave the couple a warm smile. “Aren’t you two kids sweet? Why don’t we wrap this up so you two can kiss like how you did in the supply closets?”

Steve felt his ears burn, turning back to Peggy and holding her hands. He wasn’t sure how he survived the rest of the ceremony. Of Bucky bringing the rings to them, his ma’s old ring that Howard had cleaned up and engraved with their wedding date on it. Peggy’s father’s wedding band.

He wasn’t sure how he barely got the words I do our before Peggy was jumping on him to kiss him and Steve’s arms found a way around her frame to pick her up and kiss the life out of her.

The wedding they dreamed of and feared that they never had.

A life yet to come with many memories down the road.

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Steggy Prompt #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #Howling Commandos #Fluff #Steggy Fic

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wevegottogetaway · 4 years ago

Text

Coming full circle

Here’s a little blurb about the Grammy’s, because some things just simply can’t be overlooked. I’ve also wanted to try and write in second person for a while and I thought this was the perfect occasion. Tell me what you think, I’m interested in knowing what you prefer! Happy reading xx (gif source)

The anticipation has become unbearable at this point. Sitting on the couch of the hotel suite you’ve checked in the day before, you feel more trapped here than simply waiting for your boyfriend to come back - or should you say Grammy winner boyfriend now? Watching the whole show on a flat screen rather than with your own heart-shaped eyes has been a pain to begin with, but now that there is a tiny gold trophy topping off the night with a pinch of two gifted fingers, it is downright torture.

Your legs keep fidgeting in restless expectation as you know Harry’s return is now eminent. The suspense of the show had you going insane for hours and now that it’s all over and done with, you can’t wait to shower him with love and sweet devotion. All the passion, all the self-imposed high standards, all the hard work, have finally paid off in the eyes of the academy, and though he’s always had the encouragement of his fans, it feels good to be recognized within the industry as well. To get a hat tip from pears and musicians he looks up to. To be able to bring the six pounds momento back to you since an infinitesimal but still real part of it was your doing. Also, he can’t wait to share it all with you.

At last, after the umpteenth sigh whizzing from your mouth, you finally hear it. Footstep coming to a halt behind the door, the sound of someone rummaging through their pockets for a keycard, a few lighthearted curses when said key plays hard to get, and finally several seconds later, the soft click of the lock signaling authorized entrance.

As soon as the door starts moving on its hinges, you leap to your feet to stand a couple meters from the entrance, arms crossed behind your back. And there he is.

The charismatic superstar you’ve just worshipped on TV all night is now standing in front of you in all his charming dimpled glory, orange and yellow plaid Gucci suit still on, swathed in feathery boas. Because, yes, he’s brought back all three of them; green, purple and black fluff all tangling around his upper limbs as he attempts to remove his heeled boots without tripping. If his clumsier than usual demeanor didn’t give away his slightly inebriated state, then the rosy tint coloring his cheeks was a big telltale sign of the few celebratory drinks he’d indulged throughout the night.

Harry stops dead in his tracks once his eyes fall on your frame. A shy grin appears on his flushed face, before your own lips part to mirror his glee. And for a hot minutes, it’s just that. You and him, facing each other across the hallway like in a makeshift Western dual, except you’re bearing no guns to fire at each other. Your only weapons are your beaming smiles and unconditional support.

Then there is no greater feeling than the fireworks exploding in your chest when you finally cave and run to him. He catches you with two sturdy arms as your wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. The deep belly laugh vibrating in his chest against yours is music to your ears and you can’t help but whisper "I am so fuckin’ proud o’ you," in the shell of his, before squeezing him even tighter against you. He buries his joy in your neck in response, knowing if he tried to kiss you right now, it’d be more of a smash of lips and clash of teeth than anything.

Once your elation simmers down just enough to relax your distended smiles though, your lips meet in a passionate embrace, tongues softly licking at the sweetest of each others’ mouth; yours from the strawberries you’ve had for dessert and his from the champagne that had been served all night at the Grammy’s.

As your hands reach up to cup his jaw, his come off your thighs to unwrap one of the boas from his neck and swaddle it around you. You squeal and giggle in delight at the furry material tickling the nape of your neck and Harry’s eyes sparkle in satisfaction, "knew you’d wanna have one, now we match."

Your heart is positively soaring, you just extend your new accessory around his neck so that you’re both protected by the green boa’s higher guardian spirit, and then you lean in for another kiss. For a while the two of you are caught up in your bubble, reveling in this night of magic and well-deserved acclaims, pride seeping through your pore to sneak under his skin much like his love for you had at the beginning of your relationship.

"I love you," the three words leave your lips as you lean your forehead against his and Harry promptly echoes the sentiment while walking you to the king size cloud-looking bed awaiting you both. He gently lowers you down upon the silk sheets, you hair spreading across the pillow cases with a look of sheer bliss etched upon your delicate features. If he weren’t so in awe of you and in awe of tonight, his signature smirk would probably taunt you with the fact that it won’t take much to unravel you tonight.

Instead he just hovers for another languid kiss, all his senses heightened by the evening’s ethereality. The sound of his name falling from the Troubadour’s manager is still reeling in his mind alongside the buzz that has been coursing through his veins ever since he took those bambi steps all the way to the stage to receive the long-awaited award for the fruit of his labour. Now that he’s come home in your arms to share every bit of that success, everything feels magnified.

He swears he’s never love you more than tonight when he’s feeling at the top and you’re here to hold his hand.

It’s a high like no other and one fix is just not cutting it. This requires a myriad of caresses and affections trailed along smooth skin. This was born out of support and loving inspiration that need to be returned to their muse in kisses that match the heat of the passion that instigated all this dream. This needs to be spelt out in love language across your body’s every nerve-endings - twice - and shouted from each one of LA’s skyscraper’s rooftop.

So Harry gets to work, diligently covering every inch of your skin with his appreciation and traipsing his reverence all the way down to the waistband of your panties with your grip in his hair accompanies his descent towards your sensitivity. "Gonna put those Grammy winning lips on me?" the smug look on your face is immediately whipped out by a moan as he noses at your clit.

"Seems only fair," he sucks at your mound through the cotton, "won the damn thing writing about eating your pussy. Reckon I didn’t properly thank you in my acceptance speech." Slowly he drags the flimsy lace down your legs before tasting your arousal with a long fat sweep of his tongue. "M’just comin’ full circle is all." You can feel his amusement against your core as you let out a giggle of your own at his silliness.

Your playful banter is quickly replaced by a symphony of moans and gasps that leave the both of you absolutely spent by the time the night reaches its real peak. After all, your acknowledgment means so much more to him than any award he could possibly receive/ Especially if it comes as sweet as your gratitude always does.

➪ Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles grammy #harry styles smut #just a teeny bit in passing lol #harry styles fluff #harry blurb

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saffron-nova21 · 4 years ago

Text

X. Meeting the Team Pt. 2

The Next Chapter Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • You Are Here • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language, a depiction of a panic attack and the reader's panic, mentions of Oikawa having a knee injury and panic attacks, reader yells at Kuroo.

A/N: By the way, please don't hate me for giving Kuroo a Camaro, I know literally nothing about cars, I'll call myself out so you don't have to.

Stepping out of Kuroo's sleek black 2013 Camaro, your eyes look at the large gym, the sound of volleyballs hitting hardwood floors bringing back memories for you. Glancing out of the corner of your eyes, towards your taller friend, you remembered the last time you'd walked into an unfamiliar gym. You'd met people who you'd made life-long friends with and he'd helped you get out of an awful situation.

Kuroo, Kenma, Lev, and... Well, really, the majority of the Nekoma High and Fukurōdani Academy volleyball clubs... They'd helped you realize when you needed to put your foot down and start looking out for yourself, rather than worrying about stepping on people's toes. While yes, you had lost two of the most important people in your life, by doing so, you also met quite a few people who truly were looking out for you and your happiness.

Did you hate Atsumu and Suna for the way they treated you? No. They both did a lot of damage, through their words and actions. But, at the end of the day, you'd all been so much younger and you weren't going to waste the rest of your life, hating people who weren't even in the picture, anymore. Or so, you thought.

You didn't ever intend or want to see them again, after the emotional turmoil they'd put you through. Little did Kuroo know just how badly you would respond to seeing them again.

"Are you going to stand there and keep reminiscing over when you met me, or are you going to walk inside and make some new friends?" The teasing smirk on Kuroo's lips only reminded you of the fact that even though he was pretty much a mother to you and Kenma, he was a teasing asshole. He knew how to press all of the right buttons and it would never fail to piss you off.

Walking forward, Kuroo walks forward and grasps the handle of the door, opening it for you. You don't hesitate to begin walking into the gym, flipping Kuroo off on your way. "You talk to me like a preschooler, y'know. And you wonder why Kenma calls you mom behind your back."

Stepping into the gym, you were in awe of your surroundings. Sure, this was an Olympic-level gym, but it looked far too pretty and clean to be a place for as grueling a training regimen as you could assume these athletes were put through.

What you were most pleased to find was that it didn't reek of sweat and floor mats. Instead, it had an almost fresh smell to it. It was partitioned up into three different rooms, as far as you could tell. The largest room was the one you were standing in currently, a weight room; different machinery is scattered neatly around the room and you notice that several ceiling-to-floor mirrors are lining the walls for the boys to observe their form while they work. Across from the door you'd just entered through was a wall of glass, which you could only hope was reinforced, and on the other side was a true volleyball gym, where you could see a few people working on their spikes, even if you couldn't quite make out who they were yet. The last room was closed off and much smaller than the other two, so you assumed it to be where the showers and changing room were located.

"Your highness!" You hear a familiar voice, turning to see Iwaizumi approaching you with a snarky grin, a small white towel hanging from around his neck. He wore a sleeveless grey shirt, only bringing more attention to his defined biceps. Sweats drip down his temple and you find yourself a bit embarrassed when you notice his lip still shows signs of the damage you'd done, the day prior. "So kind of you to finally join us."

Despite the lack of a real smile on his face, one of your own tugged at your lips, knowing that he was only teasing you. "You know, Iwa, you could always just admit that you missed me." Sending a wink his way, you notice that a few of the men are stopping what they're doing to look towards you, their attention captured by how loud Iwaizumi had previously been.

"Baby owl!" You can only brace yourself as you hear the former captain shout to you, knowing he was one for hugs. You didn't quite expect to be scooped up off of your feet. Laughter escapes you as Bokuto spins you around, practically bouncing up and down in joy that you were here. "You missed my spikes, earlier! They were so good, they were so good! They even would have made Akaashi proud!"

As Bokuto places you back down on the ground, some of the other boys are starting to approach, a few looking concerned by the way you gripped Bokuto's shoulder to steady yourself. And though you weren't paying attention to who it was, the three who'd been in the area of the gym and net had entered the weight area and gone for their towels and water bottles.

After you manage to shake yourself out of your dizzied state, you look at Bokuto with a smile. "Yeah, Bo? Well, you'll have to show me some more, later, yeah?"

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you spot Iwaizumi staring at you, brows pinching together in slight concern for your wellbeing. He places a bottle of water in your hands, before looking a the excited, silver-haired volleyball player, "Let's be careful, Bokuto. It's only their first day."

"They're looking a little dizzy, Bokuto. You might want to refrain from doing that in the future." The deep voice catches you off-guard, eyes flicking towards the very, very tall, scary man, now standing beside Bokuto.

He wasn't just tall, but he had quite a lot of muscle to his frame, giving him the build of a fucking giant. With wide eyes, you look him over. Despite his size, upon closer examination, he seemed a lot gentler than you might've previously mistaken him for. Kind eyes like that didn't belong to someone who would snap you in two... Right? Your eyes move away from his face, trailing down his body. From strong-looking biceps to defined thighs, the man seemed like a machine, more than anything. He couldn't actually be real, right?

"The fuck are you guys feeding him? Holy shit, hi there, B-F-G." You nod towards him, "Is your hair green or brown, because I'm looking at it and I'm gonna be honest, it's confusing me about as much as that Karasuno kid's did. Holy shit, I think I'm haunted by those memories." A mock shudder runs down your spine.

While Bokuto and Kuroo are used to your trailing off-topic, Ushijima looks confused, the poor thing. "What is a... B-F-G?"

"Big friendly giant. It's what they used to call this tall-ass first year who went to volleyball club with us, as well. You should feel special, Ushiwaka."

"Oh my fuck, Yaku, is that you? You got taller! That's criminal. You were my short king!" A pout graces your lips, while you step forward to give your old friend a large hug.

While Yaku hasn't found himself looking an insane amount taller, he did gain a bit of height since his time in high school. He stood in front of you, a hand resting on the back of his neck and his shoulders drawn back. He'd always had this feel-good, confident aura about him and it was something you'd always deeply respected about him. It was good to see that hadn't gone away.

After a brief hug, Yaku opens his mouth to speak, only for Kuroo to beat him to it. "I thought that was Kenma?"

Sighing, you roll your eyes. "I had to put Kenma in a different bracket, or else he would very easily surpass all of you in everything. I mean come on now, this is Kenma we're talking about," you muse with a self-satisfied smirk, making Kuroo raise an eyebrow.

Though, unbeknownst to you were the thoughts going through Kuroo's head. If only you knew why Kenma did all of the things that he did for you.

"I'm so excited to be working with you guys," a grin makes its way onto your lips as you clasp your hands together in front of you in excitement.

The smile that spread over your lips was contagious, even making Ushijima crack a small smile of his own. Out of anyone Kuroo had known, even with your aggression and the talking you'd do when you got excited, you were one of those people who people couldn't help but find themselves drawn to. And none of the men in the gym were able to quite explain why they found you as endearing as they did. Maybe it was the fact that you most certainly had no filter, whatsoever.

Bokuto places his hands on your shoulders, looking at the others on his team, "They're such a good player, guys! They could have gone pro if they wanted to! They have the best jump-float I've ever seen!" His loud bragging unknowingly catches the attention of the three final members of this group, who'd been caught up in conversation and getting a drink of water.

Yaku juts his chin out a bit and if you hadn't known him as well, you'd have thought the look he gave you was downright scrutinizing. But, being the person you were, and him being the person he was, you knew that he only took Bokuto's words as a challenge. "Oh yeah? Then that should be good practice for our receivers and I."

"If you needed service aces to practice on, you could have just asked, Mori! I wouldn't have minded helping you out, outside of my work hours." You smile as you look towards the libero, "I've been needing to get out of the apartment, for a while. Even Kenma can only handle so much of my dumbass."

Ushijima's curiosity gets the best of him and he cocks his head to the side, wondering what profession you'd chosen, rather than a career in volleyball. And so, yet again, Yaku is beaten to the chase, Ushijima speaking before the smaller man can get his mouth open. "What do you work as?"

"Youtuber some days, but twitch streamer, more often than not." Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to smile, "My roommate got me into it, actually, and from there, it became a profession for the both of us. Though he's got a dozen other jobs as well, it's pretty amazing."

A hand comes to ruffle your hair and after quickly identifying it as Kuroo's you lean into the display of affection. "We're talking about you, not Kenma."

"Speaking of," Bokuto speaks, even though it has nothing to do with the topic at hand, and his hands come up to guide your shoulders in the direction of the gym, "You need to set for me!"

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows, looking impressed, "You can set, as well?"

Nodding excitedly, you dive into an explanation, stopping before Bokuto can steal you away, "Yeah, I play a lot of different positions, actually. My ex-boyfriend was a middle blocker, my childhood friends were a setter and a spiker, and my older brother was an outside hitter - plus, he was amazing at defense, so he helped me a lot with perfecting my service aces when I played in high school. So you can say I was always a well-rounded player."

"Not to mention that you and that ex-boyfriend of yours were almost unbeatable, together. Almost." A warily familiar voice came from behind you, making you look back and grin from ear to ear.

The germaphobe had hardly changed, since high school. He was as tall as ever with a good build to him - only befitting for a volleyball player. As well kept as ever, he stood in front of you, reminding you of the number of times you'd ended up facing him across a net, years before. Though, unlike back then, now you were able to look towards one another for a friendship rather than a healthy rivalry.

"Why if it isn't Sakusa Kiyoomi. It's been forever!" With a questioning glance thrown your way by none other than Bokuto, you explain. "When I was at Inarizaki, we played against Itachiyama all of the time. Kiyoomi and I traded numbers after we bonded over our hatred of large crowds."

Sakusa lets a small uncharacteristic smile slip onto his lips as he glances towards Bokuto, "We haven't really kept in contact, but they'll be a welcome challenge, on the court, again."

"Is that a certain germaphobe of ours... Smiling? Omi! I didn't know you could do that! I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks!"

That voice. Why was he here? Your body goes stiff underneath Bokuto's touch, making the large male draw back to check on you, eyebrows pulled together in concern, until he spots what, or rather who you're staring at.

Because there the two are, standing in all of their glory. Suna Rintarō and Miya Atsumu. They didn't look all that different from the last time you'd seen them. Even though, it'd been what? Nine years?

By the way you go rigid, Suna's eyes drop to the floor, almost guiltily. It had been nine years and you still hated them. Though, he supposed they both deserved it. When you'd told them that you were leaving Inarizaki, they made your life even worse than what it had been. They gave you absolutely every reason to leave, rather than try to convince you to stay.

Before anyone can say anything, you catapult yourself into the air in an attempt to flee the building, much resembling a cat. You just, bolted in the first route you saw working and that was apparently through the air. Kuroo had to jerk you into his chest before you could face-plant to get you to calm down for a second. Sakusa narrowed his eyes as he looked between Suna and Atsumu - had they really been so awful to you?

"I quit. I'm not gonna do it." Your words sounded childish, you knew that but you didn't care, shaking your head as you pull yourself away from Kuroo, having half a mind to leave and not talk to any of the men here ever again. Well, more two of them, than anything else. Though, as you pull away, it dawns on you: was this why he had been so dead-set on you coming to 'help the team out?' With this question in mind, you turn around to face Kuroo. "Did you know they were going to be here?" When he doesn't respond, you feel your breath catch in your throat. The air you were breathing felt heavy inside your chest. He couldn't do that to you - he wouldn't. You flex your hands a bit - everything wasn't actually crumbling. Just remember what Kenma said... Breath...

You can't find the words or guts to continue until he reaches for you, anger quickly rising. What made him think he had any right to comfort you when he'd put you in this situation? "Do you not remember any of what happened in high school? Do you not remember how he," pointing a dramatic finger at Suna, "manipulated me? How bad he hurt me, more than once?"

"Do you not remember what he let happen?" After pointing towards the faux-blonde briefly, you drop your hand back to your side, "Oh no, I forget, you weren't there to see the damage they did, right? Because you went off to University and forgot all about Kenma and me, until we got out of high school, as well, right? Right?" You were hardly able to speak, trying to catch your breath in between words. Your voice was growing faint and strained, due to your lack of oxygen in your lungs.

You knew that everyone's stare was on you, only worsening your panicking. Your hands come to your shirt, wringing the ends of it as you try to ground yourself. But you couldn't stop. You just kept talking, needing Kuroo to understand why you were angry, why you were upset. He needed to understand what you were feeling and what he had done.

"You left me, with strangers, in a big city, after promising me it would all be okay. I wasn't welcomed back with my grandmother and brother, after the falling out. But did you even bother to check up, once, after you left? Did you even care, after promising me it was going to be okay? Come on, give me an answer, huh?" You weren't quite sure what brought up all of these old feelings. Maybe it was having to see the two that caused you all of that distress. "Fuck you, Tetsurō."

Kuroo couldn't deny the fact that he was surprised by the way you lashed out at him. He was wondering where all of this anger had been, years ago. Why hadn't you or Kenma ever said anything to him about this? He was fumbling, no words would escape him, no matter his efforts to get something out.

An uneasy silence hangs in the air for a few long moments, everyone looking between you and the former Nekoma captain. Truthfully, you'd never really dealt with everything that had happened, emotionally. You just kind of shoved it down and distracted yourself with being at a new school and video games.

"Bokuto, take Miya, Ushijima, and Suna and go and practice on the court, for a while." A firm voice saves Kuroo from having to respond, making everyone look towards the athletic trainer. "Yaku, I think you should escort Kuroo out. I'll take Y/N home, today." Iwaizumi walks over to you, looking at Sakusa, "Go get me a cool, damp towel, okay?"

You aren't quite sure if Kuroo leaves willingly, or if Yaku has to force him out, but you don't really care, at the moment. Iwaizumi places an arm around your shoulders and brings you over to a bench to sit on, uncapping a water bottle for you. He crouches down in front of you and hands it to you. "Hey, look at me. It's going to be okay, can you focus on breathing for me, right now?"

You weren't crying, were you? Why was it so hot in here? Why couldn't you just calm down? Everyone was looking at you, weren't they? Had you acted irrationally? They were going to hate you for being so dramatic, weren't they? So much for a good first impression with the boys...

"Did you hear me?" Iwaizumi's voice cuts through your thoughts, making your eyes shift to his. Without a word, you move your eyes back down to the water bottle in his hands, "Breath, Y/N."

Easier said than done. "Al -," you swallow shakily and nod, "Alright."

You move your eyes away from him - bad idea Y/N. When you spot the men glancing over at you while they distractedly get to work, you don't quite register that they wanted to check on you, because they were worried about you, mistaking it, instead, for judgment. You opt for closing your eyes, tapping your fingers together rhythmically to help you calm yourself down.

Looking you over, Iwaizumi is reminded of all the late practices that he would find Oikawa collapsing from exhaustion or due to his knee injuries. Though, Oikawa only got this bad when he held the weight of not making it to nationals on his shoulders. Was this a panic attack that you were having, like Oikawa use to have? Or was it something else? He noticed you reach out to him, after a moment of his thinking, and he offers you a hand, silently nodding when you flash him a grateful, weak, but grateful, smile.

Slowly, your breathing mellowed out and the tears pricking your eyes slipped down your cheeks, your head hanging as you attempt to withdraw your hand from Iwaizumi. Though, your eyes move back up when he gently grips your hand, holding it in his, still. It isn't long after that when you feel nimble fingers grip your chin, tilting it up so that Sakusa can gently pat your cheeks and face with the cool cloth. You knew he didn't like touching people much and you were tempted to tell them that they didn't have to do this for you. But their touch was so gentle and their presence so calming that you couldn't bring yourself to open your mouth.

Instead of saying anything, you relax against Iwaizumi and Sakusa's touch. Normally it was Kenma who'd be doing this for you, just as you'd do it for him, but Kenma wasn't here, right now. And you were left to depend on yourself and these very kind, very gentle men.

It doesn't take Yaku long to make his way over, sitting on the bench behind you and gently rubbing circles against your back. "You okay there?" He asks you after a few moments of silence.

Letting out a breath, you open your eyes and nod. You pull your hand away from Iwaizumi and pull your head from Sakusa, turning from them, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Though, you aren't expecting Sakusa to grasp your chin once again and tilt your head in their direction again, "You aren't and we all know it, so cut the act."

Yaku sends a glare towards the taller man, "Sakusa!"

"What?" He snaps back. "I'm right, aren't I? They're not okay and they have every right to express it."

Iwaizumi sighs and looks at you, ignoring the other two, "Drink some water, okay? Look, after today, you don't have to return, I think we'll all understand if you don't want to... But, and you can ignore what I'm about to say if you want, I think that you need closure. Even if that comes from just having to tolerate occupying the same building as them."

Glancing over his shoulders, you find Suna and Atsumu both glancing in your direction. They looked so guilty... Why did you care? You frown and give him a shrug, "Whatever..."

Looking at you, Yaku nods slowly, "We'll try and keep you away from them, alright?"

After a nod of confirmation from Sakusa, you sigh and take a sip of the water bottle Iwaizumi had offered you. "Okay. Fine, yeah, I'll... I'll keep helping out." You confirm. "But, I'm going to bring Kenma for the next few days, just to make sure... This doesn't happen again." Gesturing to where the three sat, doting over you, you lower your eyes again.

"Whatever is going to make you feel most comfortable," Iwaizumi tells you, bringing a hand to affectionately ruffling your hair, watching the way you immediately lean into the affection.

"Let's get to work, what do you say, Y/N?" Sakusa hums, tone surprisingly gentle with you.

You finally stand up, capping your water bottle. "Yeah... Yeah. What can I do for you boys?"

Kenma and you both have a history of having panic attacks and you both are very good at calming one another down, due to your years of experience.

The boys might have just met you, but they all quickly developed this sense of 'I need to protect them' after what happened in front of them.

Atsumu let someone blackmail you, while you were both in high school and Suna continuously used you for his own amusement after he lost his memories and before he got them back. And they both said hurtful things when you announced you'd be leaving.

I am so sorry for how late this was, honestly. I just couldn't get it written how I wanted it. And even still, I don't really like the end result. But no matter, here it is, now, I hope you guys enjoy it. I hope you guys are having a great day, as well! Remember, sweetheart, I'm proud of you. You deserve to eat, get a good amount of sleep, and drink some water, I am so proud of you. Have a great day, alright! I'll have another chapter out tomorrow 🤍 I love you guys.

General Taglist:

@kookie-doughs @halesandy @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @its-the-aerieljeane @onlyonew @kac-chowsballs @saltylettuce @thathoneybee3 @daninaninani @akkeyomi @vintagexparker

The Next Chapter Taglist:

@anime-meme-sanctuary @nachotrash @haijkk @maadaaaa @prettyinblack231 @sakusasimpbot @kellesvt @bebetiny @ash-levi @calumsfringe @z3ld4 @erinoikawa @bandaged-despair @chaseyui @atria-avior @just-that-bi-girl @one-simp-more @hxked @universalmay @himboos

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years ago

Text

|FEVER| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

About- Namjoon just has a kink for letting you do whatever the hell you want with him...Whether that be putting him in a hot pink suit shirtless! Or, telling him he’s a good boy as he fucks you into oblivion!

OR- Namjoon and yourself hooked up 5 months ago when the boys were in London on Tour, and you were the creative director for there British GQ & Harper’s Bazzar Cover! Now, months later he’s prepping to release his second mixtape “RM vs Rap Monster”. Opting to go a complete 360 from his first release Mono in all realms. So, with that being said BigHit thinks he needs someone with a little more... “umph” Take a wild guess as to who they call...

WC:1.2k (Sneak peek)

WARNINGS: Switch OC (Top & Bottom...but there's no real dom/sub tones here) Service top/power bottom Namjoon, praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex(Back shot), come play, dirty talk, light choking, light overstimulation, (This is lowkey a little softer than it sounds) The OC kinda leads this, but Joon isin’t the cliché “sub” he just likes letting her take control.

NOTE- Just my take on the OG cliché Artist X Stylist AU (Though she’s more of a full package, Art Director/Stylist/Photographer ETC) I have tried to add some minor elements to make it a little more realistic. I will say I typically stray from “Idol-verse” just because if we’re being real, the cultural difference alone sometimes stunts my creativity...BUT I just had a little fun with this one...so I hope you all enjoy it. Also, I don’t go into much physical details but in my mind regardless of race, aesthetic wise the OC is a huge contrast to what he’s use to which is part of her appeal. I picture a tatted Barbie of some sorts...

SIDE NOTE: No shade, but shade, I was lowkey inspired to write this bc I have very strong opinions about the creative team at BH....

*** Let me know if you guys want the full thing or not...I kidna flaked on posting because it is such a cliché lol

SONG- FEVER DUA LIPA FT ANGELE

~~~~~~~

“Well, it’s a yes for me” Eyeing him in this Hot pink-fitted Burliti suit, which you paired with a very sheer black Arnar Mar turtle neck. The minute you saw the piece on the runway you’d been dying to get it on someone with melanated skin, and it just so happens, the boys are fresh off the US leg of their stadium tour! So, lucky for you, baby boy’s been in the sun a lot, and Namjoon’s currently a sinful shade of brown and you're totally here for it…

Then to top it off, the mesh material of the turtle neck creates the perfect silhouette around his offensively toned chest, outlining the muscles sinfully. Eternally snorting at the way the fans are gonna thank and curse you out all at the same damn time once they see the looks you’ve pulled for this man!

And yes, you had your crew bring extended shades of foundation and concealer, because his face and neck will match if your name is going to be attached to these damn photos!

Head tilted to the side as you silently observe the way he rakes over his reflection in the mirror, it’s a sixth sense you’ve acquired as a stylist at this point. Half of your job is essentially being a hype man/self love coach, real shit, a lot of these artist aren't always as...confident as one may think!

And just like clockwork Namjoon runs his palm down his thighs, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on his pants for the umpteenth time in the span of oh I don’t know 30 seconds? Which in turn prompts you to say….

“You look good Joonie...” Musing over your second glass of Don, the compliment was genuine, tone warm, soothing even, not a hint flirtation insight because that wasn’t your motive. You weren’t trying to get him flustered you’re just trying to gas him up a little, you wanted to see Namjoon get alittle cocky and feel himself!

Ears perking up like an overgrown puppy, head whipping in your direction “Yeah?” The way this man’s eyes just lit up like the soul skyline. I just-goddamn, an almost bashful smile toys on those plush lips of his, and you can’t help the way your chest flutters with nothing but fondness.

“So fuckin cute” Flutters off your lips, as you hide a smile of your own behind a half empty whine glass. The delivery was so faint it almost go lost in the background music floating through the air. However the slight flush hitting his cheeks let you know Namjoon heard you whether he wanted to admit it or not!

”Mmmhmm, the color looks fuckin insane against your skin, not to mention, the way everything's going to pop once we tone your hair a little! “ Eyes drinking him in from head to toe, though there was nothing suggestive playing within your iris. Very much aware of time and place and right now your genuinely looking respectfully! Seeing if any alterations are needed, making sure you like where everything sits along his frame. Making notes in your phone of places you want to pin and adjust later...snapping a couple shots here and there.

Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the lapels on the blazer “But like-I mean-I- dont’-It doesn’t look like I’m... trying too hard or anything?” Brows furrowed in the center of his face, jaw tight, wincing slightly at his own words, almost as if he was afraid of your response. The vulnerability within his delivery was more than evident, and no matter how common this is with artist, it’s still just as devastating! Regardless of how much he tried to play it off as if he was just making casual conversation, you can see how blatantly uncomfortable he is . Gazing back at you wide eyed, and uncannily exposed, pointing at the outfit in question. Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the the blazer, switching posses subtlety trying to get a better feel for the suit.

You stayed silent for a minute, taking the time to actually process before speaking which is rare, not gonna lie. Gaze piercing as you hop off the bed, wine, and accessories in hand, swaying closer. “It’s fashion”. The baited pause almost implied that’s all you had to say, as if one-word was self-sufficient, and in your mind it was...but you knew better than to just leave it at that.

“Art at its finest Mr. Kim” You smile something a little devious, and he flushes even deeper as you slowly start to invade his space eyes locked with him meaningfully. You can physically see the shift, the closer you get, Namjoon starts fidgeting slightly under your gaze but he doesn't back down.

“It gives you room to play, create...it’s something that let’s us connect to people without saying a damn thing.” Suddenly the hand that wasn’t holding your alcohol has become a prop, flailing around haphazardly as you spoke, pointing at the various pieces hanging on clothes racks in your suite! The penthouse has essentially been transformed into your own personal walk in closet for the next 5 or so days! “It’s a statement. A opportunity to tap into a side of yourself that maybe you can’t always verbally articulate to the world around you! More importantly, it’s supposed to be fun, it’s literally something that can be removed within seconds! I mean we all have to wear clothes so why not just enjoy it?” Head cocked to the side as you appraise him, brow quirked, eyes warm, yet there's a clear challenge playing within your gaze.

Namjoon’s watching you intently, almost as if he’s taking mental notes as you speak...the heaviness within those dangerously honed eyes of his could almost be unsettling to some, but you quite like it. Made you feel as though he actually gives a flying fuck about what you’re saying.

“In my opinion the only time it looks like someone’s “Trying too hard” Making little air bunnies with your spare hand “Is if they look uncomfortable in what they’re wearing, confidence is key, and I know you know that better than anyone RM!” You muse batting your lashes in Namjoon’s direction, and he dimples back at you, eyes sinking into tiny crescents, face rivaling the color of his suit, trying to hide said smile behind his own glass of champagne.

“I could put you in a damn clown suit...” Words trailing off your tongue lackadaisically as you grow distracted searching the bar for a specific chain from John Hardy. “Which” Focus snapping back in his direction making the later splutter a little “Would be fire as fuck if I did by the way, but-” Namjoon ended up cackling midsentence, almost choking on his drink in the process, fist pounding against his sternum.

Yeah..killing the leader of Bangtan wasn’t really high on your list tonight....

“Ayee, none of that shit...” Smacking him in the back a little more so just to be an ass because he wasn’t even choking anymore “Don’t die on me until we at least get this damn photoshoot done, I had to cancel my trip to Jamaica for this shit!”

Now he’s damn near choking and his laugh was contagious, it’s just.. loud, carefree so yes, your cackling, and there's nothing cute about it. But you honestly don’t care, you let yourself get lost in it! Finally able to feel the atmosphere in the room start to shift to something a little less scripted and a little more organic...

Throwing his hands in the air as If he’s waving a nonexistent white flag “I’m sorry, noona” There’s a pout playing in his lips, not exactly aegyo per say, but it’s fuckin adorable “Blame PD-nim, it’s his fault we had to do this so last minute” Wheezes from his throat, in the form of a slight whine, almost rivaling Jimin if I’m honest.

You already know he was laughing more so due to your delivery, specifically, your casual use of profanity over anything else. This is actually something you use to be self-conscious about, especially at your first shoot with the boys, at the shoot for GQ . Well aware it wasn’t as common in Asia for people especially women to use “fuck” like a comma. So you were hoping they wouldn’t be offended, or uncomfortable by your dialect, and, thankfully they didn’t seem to mind. Much like Joonie over here, they found it entertaining over anything.

“Yeah, a huh, sureee...” Eyes rolling to the back of your head playfully as you start lightly altering the suit in question with clips and pens. “Stay still babe” The pet name slipped off your tongue effortlessly, honestly, that's what you call most people in your life. However you were far too focused to notice how wide eyed and flustered the man before you became upon hearing it directed at him so casually.

A faint little “Sorry” muses off his lips as he gnaws on his inner cheek, trying to stay still as you ghetto-rig hems into place until you can get this under your sewing needle.

“ No, but real shit…” You sigh, taking on a slightly more serious tone “If you step in front of that camera like you own the bitch, regardless of what your wearing..., then they can’t tell you shit! If your comfortable there’s no such thing as trying too hard” You shrug nonchalantly like that was the simplest concept known to man, downing the rest of your drink “Alright, that’s all, thanks for coming to my Ted talk” Waving him off as if you’re about to leave the room and he pouted playfully, jokingly begging you not to leave him yet...it felt good to be able to banter like this. The shift continuous shift within the atmosphere was more than welcomed…

Hesitantly you watch his eyes find their way back to the full length mirror, which promptly smacks you back to reality!

Unfortunately you didn't fly all the way to Seoul just to drink, and shoot shit with Namjoon for hours on end, your actually here to work…

Sooo...

“Alright” Placing your arms on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze as you peer over his shoulder. Meeting his gaze through the glass, chin resting gently against the blade. “Back to the reason you came Mr. “I’m sooo anxiously” Shooting him a teasing little smirk in the process “The suit, yay or nay”

So, here’s the thing technically the official fitting is tomorrow, and as far as his team knows he’s in the studio with Yoongi and Hoseok finishing up a song!

Which of course raises the question as to why he’s here..alone..mind you..no staff or security in site.

Just Kim Namjoon and yourself.....

~~~~

Heyyyy, Lemme know if you guys want this or not, it will leave kinda open ended because it was supposed to kinda be a 3 part mini series initially. Part 1 ends the morning of the shoot, the full thing is set to be around 6/7k! Spoiler, the company is going to want to keep her around for more than just Namjoon’s solo project....

Also, YES...I did see that they actually put Tae in that Burliti suit (I wrote this long before that shoot was released)...I actually hated the way it was styled it though...I never thought I’d say this but MGK’s team did a better job than BH....

#Namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon smut #bts #bts smut #bts au #kpop #kpop smut #kim namjoon x you

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