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vampiriito · 3 months ago

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Summer was in shades of cool.. (JJ Maybank X shy! kook! reader) Chapter 5

A/n: Hey loves! fifth chapter, which somehow ended up also being angst! I'm so sad this story is almost coming to an end＞︿＜(that's if i don't decide to write more chapters.) But what i have rn, is roughly 3 chapters left. So yeah.. I'm working on a JJ x mermaid! reader, and the here comes the sun fic (part 2) though, you gotta check them out when i post them!

Summary: You know JJ isn't mean, he just likes to spend his time in shades of cool. You prove him wealth and a cushioned life doesn't necessarily mean happiness and that the two of you weren't as different as he thought.

For someone so shy and timid you sure were brave to skate around the town at night. It was your way of unwinding. You liked how free you felt, all alone with your earbuds in, and just skating around in endless circles. Especially when you didn't feel like dealing with your mother's nagging or your father's disappointed sighs and looks.

The cold night air bites at your cheeks as you glide over the smooth pavement, the soft hum of your skateboard the only sound in the quiet, sleeping town. Streetlights cast long shadows, their orange glow flickering softly as you pass beneath them. The streets are empty, save for the occasional parked car or the distant silhouette of a house with lights still on inside. You skate past closed storefronts, their dark windows reflecting the faint moonlight, and the faint clatter of your wheels echoes down the empty alleyways.

Everything feels still, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting. Your breath comes in clouds, visible in the chill of the night, and the cold wind sweeps through your hair as you push off harder, picking up speed. The town feels different at night—more yours, like a secret you’re keeping from everyone else. You weave through the streets, the familiar paths taking on a dreamlike quality in the quiet darkness, the only witness to your midnight ride.

As you round a corner, something makes you slow down—a figure, standing under one of the streetlights ahead. At first, you think it's just a shadow or a trick of the light, but then he shifts slightly, hands shoved into his pockets, and your heart skips.

It’s him. JJ. You haven't seen him for a few days, almost a week, since your last conversation when you gave him the picture of you, and you kept the one of him. He hasn’t noticed you yet now, lost in his own thoughts as he stands there, bathed in the soft glow of the lamplight. You feel your pulse quicken, the smooth rhythm of your skating disrupted as your thoughts scatter. For a moment, you consider turning around, slipping away before he sees you, but your legs don’t move. The street is so still, and it feels like the space between you has suddenly shrunk, the distance closing with each heartbeat. You skate closer, slower now, unsure of what to say—or if you should say anything at all.

JJ had been lost in thought, standing under the streetlight and staring absently at the ground in front of him. His mind was a mess, a tangled web of conflicting thoughts and feelings that he couldn't seem to untangle. He'd been avoiding you ever since you'd both given each other the pictures - that moment with you had felt so personal, so intimate, that he didn't know how to act around you now.

Not to mention the absolute shitshow of a night he managed to have.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of wheels rolling over the pavement. He looked up, and his heart stopped as he saw you skating closer.

As you came close to him, you eased your skateboard to a gentle stop by pressing your foot against the pavement. The familiar hum of wheels on concrete faded into a hushed silence as your heart began to quicken, the twilight deepening around you both. In the dim light, his features had been nothing more than vague silhouettes, but now—standing side by side—each detail was painfully clear.

Before you could even manage a soft greeting, your eyes were drawn to the silent story etched across his face. There were bruises scattered like dark constellations on his skin, his lip was painfully split, and a swollen bruise cradled his eye in a halo of sorrow, a small trail of blood drying up just above his lip from his nose. In that moment, your heart clenched with a mix of shock and tender concern. The raw evidence of his pain stirred something deep within you—a profound empathy that made you wish you could reach out and soothe the silent anguish behind those eyes.

Time seemed to slow as you absorbed every detail, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of your worry. In his vulnerable state, you saw more than just physical marks; you saw the same little boy you remembered from 3rd grade staring back at you. And as the night pressed in around you, you felt an overwhelming urge to offer comfort, even as a subtle fear held you back—fear of drawing him further into a world of pain he might not want to share or revisit.

JJ felt your gaze on his face, taking in the bruises and cuts. He immediately looked away, hating the way you were probably looking at him. He felt exposed, like a raw nerve.

He tried to play it tough, forcing a casual tone. ''Don't look at me like that. It's nothing. Just a little scuffle, that's all."

Your brows furrowed into a small frown as you continued studying the injuries on his face. Each bruise and the split on his lip whispered stories of pain, stories you’d only heard in hushed conversations around town. You knew about his turbulent relationship with his dad, the kind of abuse that left scars both seen and unseen. Not from JJ directly, of course.

This wasn’t just the aftermath of a random scuffle. The marks on his face spoke of deliberate cruelty, as if someone had set out to hurt him, to silence his ability to fight back. The thought that he might have been too shocked or too restrained to defend himself filled you with a cold dread. It was as though each injury was a small echo of a larger, unspoken terror—a terror that clutched at your heart and made you fear for his well-being.

JJ noticed the way your frown only seemed to deepen the more you took in his injuries. He could see the concern in your eyes, and it both touched and frustrated him. Part of him appreciated that you seemed to care, but another part just wanted you to stop looking at him like he was some helpless victim. He shifted awkwardly, trying to find the words to downplay the situation.

"Seriously, it's nothing. My old man was just being his usual charming self, that's all."

Now your brows shot up in surprise. Not because you didn't know about his dad and his tendencies. But because he was telling you this so directly. So bluntly.

"This was your dad?" you asked quietly, stepping off the skateboard fully now.

JJ nodded reluctantly and reached up brush a finger over the dried up trail of blood trickled from his nose, his eyes darting away as if he could escape the truth by simply not meeting your gaze. He despised that he had let his guard down enough to admit that his dad was the one who had marred his face. "Yeah. My old man had a little too much to drink tonight. Things got outta hand. It happens," he said, his voice attempting a casual indifference that barely masked the underlying anguish.

He tried to make it sound like just another night in the Maybank household—a familiar script of abuse and neglect, spun so often that it almost felt routine. But behind his nonchalant tone lay a truth he couldn’t hide: each incident was a step deeper into a spiral of escalating abuse, unrelenting drinking, and seething anger. In that moment, every word he uttered carried the weight of a painful reality he wished he could forget, yet it clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake off.

"...Why are you on the street then?" you asked once again, although your voice was quiet, you weren't as flustered as you usually were when you spoke to JJ.

JJ finally looked at you, surprised by the directness of your question. He wasn't used to anyone asking him such things so bluntly.

"What do you mean, 'why am I on the street'? Where else am I supposed to be?" He tried to sound casual, but there was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. He wasn't used to revealing so much about himself like this, especially to a kook.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. You didn't realize how weird the question sounded. You should've just asked him if he had anywhere to sleep. But the words died in your throat. "No i mean.. I'm sorry.. i mean why aren't you at your friends' house..? Why are you out here?"

JJ huffed again, still feeling on edge. He couldn't tell you the real reason why he wasn't at one of his friend's houses right now - he didn't want to burden anyone else with his personal problems. So he just lied, keeping his voice casual and indifferent.

"I don't know, I just didn't feel like crashing at anyone's place, alright? I like being alone. I get more freedom when I'm sleeping on the street than if I were at someone's house."

"You're gonna freeze. Plus, sleeping on a bench really sucks," you stated simply, your tone laced with a soft, almost tender exasperation. Your expression soured in a way that was both peculiar and genuine, hinting at the concern beneath the blunt words.

JJ felt a pang of irritation at your statement. Yeah, he knew that sleeping on a bench sucked, trust him, he was well aware of it. But he didn't need you reminding him of that.

"Yeah, well, what choice do I have, genius? I can't exactly afford a hotel room. Not all of us are rich kooks, you know."

"…I was gonna say you can crash at mine��you don't have to sleep out here," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words slipped out after a few long moments of silence, following his sharp snap at you. There was a tender vulnerability in your tone, as if each syllable was a small promise of safety amid the chaos. You hoped that by offering your place, you could shield him, even just a little, from the cold and harshness of the night.

JJ's jaw dropped at your unexpected offer, his irritation immediately forgotten. He looked at you, eyes wide, trying to tell if you were being serious. The idea of crashing at your place seemed too good to be true. No way you actually wanted him to stay over at your house. "Wait, you're joking, right? You want me to...stay at your place?"

"Yeah... i mean i don't mind. If it's not weird for you of course... given you barely know me." you mumbled awkwardly, scrathing the back of your neck.

The idea of staying at your house was definitely weird for JJ. It would be his first time ever stepping foot inside a kook's home, for one. But more than anything, it was the thought of being in a private space with you that made him feel anxious and excited at the same time. He took a moment to collect himself before responding.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything..."

You bit your lip, torn between respecting his pride and prejudice that you knew he had towards kooks, and wanting to help him. "No... I uh... I have my own room. It's not gonna be a problem. You can eat and take a bath if you want and I can help you with your uh... bruises."

You tried to force a smile, bending down to grab your skateboard and holding it under your armpit. The tension hung in the air, thick and unspoken.

JJ's chest tightened at your offer to help take care of his injuries. No one had ever really cared about him in that way before, and the thought of you treating his wounds made his heart thump against his ribcage. He tried to keep his voice casual and nonchalant, but he couldn't hide the hint of vulnerability in his tone. "Yeah? You're gonna play nurse for me?"

You wouldn't forgive yourself if you would've just skated away back home alone. You cared for JJ, more than you would admit to anyone. 8 years of being in love with him secretly would do that to you.

You nodded, your smile turning genuine and sheepish, your free hand reaching up to adjust your glasses.

JJ felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of your genuine smile, his throat constricting at the thought that he was the cause of it. He took a small step closer to you, feeling the tension building between you both.

"Well, I ain't gonna turn down an offer like that." He gave you a small, crooked smile in return, the first genuine smile he'd given since you spotted him under the street light.

The two of you began walking, your skateboard still tucked under your arm. JJ kept sneaking glances at you, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be staying the night at your house. It was a strange and unexpected turn of events, one that he had never thought possible just a few days ago.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, JJ spoke up, his tone curious and a little playful. "So, is it just you at your place? Or do you have, like, parents and siblings and stuff?"

"Yes... I have a sister and, uh... well, parents." you said, furrowing your brows slightly but smiling as you walked down the street. The evening air was cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the heat of the day. The streetlights cast a warm, golden glow over the pavement, and the sound of distant laughter and music from nearby homes added a comforting backdrop to your walk.

The journey to your place wasn't long, just about 15 minutes at most, giving you both enough time to enjoy the quiet company and the gentle rhythm of your steps. As you walked, you couldn't help but glance over at JJ, hoping the darkness concealed the concern in your eyes.

JJ nodded, not really surprised that you had a normal and functional family. He had always suspected it, even before you gave him the picture of you. There was something about you that screamed 'normal suburban girl', probably the fact that you were a kook after all.

As you walked, JJ studied the neighborhood surroundings, taking in the big, fancy houses that littered the street. It was a stark contrast to his own home and his neighborhood, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and bitterness. The tall imposing windows, the perfectly manicured lawns and massive pools with houses perfectly painted, all of them were the complete opposite to the trailer park scenery he had the ill-fated chance of waking up to.

"Must be nice, having functional parents and a nice house."

He tried to make his voice nonchalant and joking, but he couldn't quite hide the hint of bitterness in his tone. He knew it wasn't right to take his own issues out on you, especially since you had been nothing but kind to him so far. But old patterns were hard to break.

"The nice house is... good, although it doesn’t make up for the angry man living in it. All i wanna say is that i know how weird dads can get." you looked down, your voice shy and hesitant.

JJ's heart twinged in pain at the mention of angry dads. He could relate to that all too well. He'd lived with an angry dad for as long as he can remember, and the memories were not pleasant.

He was surprised that you would admit something like that to him. He'd always figured you were some rich girl who had everything handed to her on a silver platter. But clearly, there was more to you than he thought.

He glanced over at you, studying your face as you continued walking. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch you, to comfort and reassure you in some way - as if he didn't have a busted lip and bruised face of his own. Instead, he just cleared his throat and spoke as casually and jokingly as he could. "Yeah, angry dicks seem to be pretty universal, huh?"

"Yeah... I don't want my kids to have an angry father," you chuckled dryly, the laugh more a reflex than genuine amusement. The situation wasn't funny at all, but the awkwardness bubbled up in your chest, spilling out in the form of an uncomfortable giggle.

JJ's heart skipped another beat at your unexpected mention of kids. The thought of you having a family of your own - a future husband and children - made him feel more bothered than he cared to admit. He tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest and responded in his typical sarcastic tone. "Oh, so you already got some future hubby picked out?"

"No. I don't even speak to guys... you know how shy and timid i get..." you frowned with a smile on your face, shaking your head.

JJ couldn't help but chuckle softly at your response. He knew all too well about your shyness and how you seemed to freeze up around people, especially guys. It was just one of the many quirks about you that he had picked up on over the years, despite never actually talking to you. "Yeah, I've noticed. You get all tongue-tied and red in the face. It's kind of cute, actually."

The second he said it, JJ mentally cursed himself. He had meant it as a lighthearted tease, but the word 'cute' had just slipped out before he could stop it. He quickly tried to cover up his blunder with a nonchalant, sarcastic tone.

"I mean, in a dorky kind of way obviously."

You let out a huff of laughter, turning your head to look forward as you walked, nearing your house. You felt yourself blush at his words, despite the fact that he covered them up with a teasing comment.

JJ watched as your face turned a light pink, the rosy color spreading across your cheeks. He felt a weird sense of satisfaction at the realization that he had caused that reaction in you. But he quickly pushed that thought aside, reminding himself that he was just here for a place to crash, nothing more.

As you continued walking, JJ glanced around the posh, quiet neighborhood.

"You know, you live in a pretty fancy area. I feel like I'm in some snobby billionaire's vacation home or something."

"All of these people living here are assholes." you stated bluntly, glancing around too.

JJ couldn't help but bark out a surprised laugh at your unexpected bluntness. He had never expected such language to come out of your mouth. "Ouch. Don't hold back, tell us how you really feel."

He smirked, still chuckling as he glanced around at the immaculate, expensive-looking homes surrounding them.

As you neared your house, JJ couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He tried to play it cool, but he couldn't ignore the thrill of the idea that he was about to step inside a kook's home for the first time in his life, aside from the house parties.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant as he spoke. "This your place, huh?"

"Mhm.." you nodded, humming as you approached the big gates of your house. You walked towards the security booth, asking the man inside to let you in, explaining to him that JJ was your friend and that your parents should just not hear about this, not wanting to have the talk with you mom yet.

JJ followed you silently, trying to appear unfazed and nonchalant. But deep down, he was still feeling a little awkward and uncomfortable being in this wealthy neighborhood.

He watched as you spoke to the man in the booth, explaining that he was your friend and that your parents shouldn't know about his presence. JJ could only grimace at the thought of your parents finding out that you were bringing a Pogue - and a bruised and beaten up one at that - into their pristine kook house.

As the gates clicked open and you both walked through the opening, JJ glanced around the expansive grounds of your property. It was a far cry from the small, run-down house and yard he lived in. This place looked more like a luxurious resort than a home.

He let out a low whistle of appreciation, looking at you with a mix of awe and envy. "Damn. You really weren't kidding about your place being fancy."

You gave a small, shy smile, feeling a bit self-conscious as you led him up the stone path. The meticulously manicured lawn stretched out on either side, dotted with vibrant flowerbeds and neatly trimmed hedges. The soft glow of landscape lighting illuminated the walkway, adding an air of sophistication to the already impressive scene.

"Yeah, it's... something," you said, your voice hesitant. "But like I said earlier, a nice house doesn't make up for everything."

JJ nodded, his gaze sweeping over the expansive grounds before settling back on you. "I get that," he replied, his tone sincere. "Still, it's pretty amazing. I've never seen anything like this up close."

"It's just a house.." you laughed awkwardly. You neared your big front doors, digging through the pocket of your jeans to retrieve your keys.

JJ rolled his eyes at your nonchalant response. "Yeah, right. A house that looks like it could fit my entire house inside of it."

He watched as you took out your keys, realizing with a pang of panic that he was about to enter your house. He quickly pushed down the feeling of nervousness building in his chest and tried to make a joke instead. "You sure your parents aren't gonna see me and freak out?"

"I don't even think they're home.. and if they are, they're asleep already." you stated after unlocking your front door, grabbing your board and stepping inside. Opening the door, you ushered him inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you both. The foyer was elegantly decorated, with a grand staircase leading up to the second floor and tasteful artwork adorning the walls. JJ looked around, taking in the high ceilings and polished wood floors.

JJ followed you inside, his combat boots squeaking uncomfortably against the smooth, hardwood floors. The inside of your house looked just as impressive as the outside, with elegant furniture and expensive-looking decorations that could probably serve as a down-payment for his shitty house. JJ couldn't help but feel a little out of place, like a stray among the perfect, polished furniture.

He tried to act casual, but he couldn't help but glance around nervously, waiting for your parents to appear and throw him out on his ass.

JJ was surprised by the fact that your house was completely silent and dark, as if nobody was in. He had been half-expecting a posh version of his own home with angry, yelling adults and slamming doors. "Your parents are seriously asleep already? Don't they care that you're out this late?"

You shook your head. Your parents really didn't care that much. You had learned to take care of yourself when they weren't home. Which was usually all the time. Instant meals and take out became your best friend once you passed the age of 14. It was like you parents just- assumed you'll hold your own. And you did. Mostly thanks to Maisy. You urged him towards the stairs walking up the steps quietly.

JJ followed you up the stairs, still feeling out of place and on edge in the immaculate surroundings. He knew he was probably going to look like a total mess once he saw himself in the mirror, but he didn't dare ask to take a shower yet.

He glanced around as he walked, trying to mentally note the layout of your house in case he ever needed to escape quickly.

As you reached the top of the stairs, JJ looked around, expecting to see more of the posh and flawless décor. But to his surprise, the hallway upstairs was dimly lit and all the doors had been closed.

He followed you down the hallway towards your room, feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation. He had never been in a kook girl's room before, and he couldn't help but wonder what yours would look like.

As you both finally reach your door you can't help but feel a bit nervous knowing your room was the only one in this house which was this messy. Once you stepped inside a warm, golden glow wraps around you, coming from the fairy lights strung across the walls like constellations. The soft light bounced off the pale pink walls, casting delicate shadows on the worn wood floors.

Photographs covered nearly every surface—polaroids tacked to the walls along with various movie and bad posters, black-and-white prints clipped to twine that stretches above your bed like a gallery of memories. Each picture seemed to hold a story: some of you skating down streets at sunset, others of eerie, abandoned places that seem pulled from a horror film, their dark windows and empty halls almost breathing, Maisy appearing in some of your shots.

The bed is a mess of mismatched blankets and soft pillows, inviting in a way that feels casual and lived-in, like you'd spent countless late nights curled up there, editing photos or watching horror movies that make the shadows in the room seem to move. On the floor, there’s a skateboard deck leaning against a stack of books, some dog-eared horror novels with spines cracked from use. The air smells faintly of vanilla and something else, maybe the remnants of a candle long burned out to mask the cigarette smell lingering.

JJ was stunned into silence as he stepped into your room, taking in the warm, golden glow of the fairy lights and the photos that covered every surface, the posters scattered over the light pink walls. He was surprised to have seen some of the movies himself, most of them horror flicks. It was unlike anything he had seen before - a stark contrast to his own bare, messy room with its old, fading wallpaper and worn flooring.

He looked at the mess of blankets, pillows and plushies on your bed, feeling a sudden urge to flop down on them, as if they would somehow soothe the tension in his chest. But he knew better than to do that, so he just stood there awkwardly, taking in his new surroundings.

"I'm sorry for the mess.. I'm usually a clean person... for 1 week after i clean. And then it goes back to this.." you mumbled awkwardly, dropping your board on the floor next to your door.

JJ chuckled softly, his usual smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced at the pile of clothes and books piled up in one corner of the room. "Nah don't worry about it, it's not that bad. Definitely cleaner than my room at least."

He gestured towards the mess. He didn't say it, but he actually found your room endearing. It reminded him of himself. He leaned up against the wall by your door, trying to appear casual and nonchalant as his eyes roamed over the photos on your wall. He recognized a few of the places you had captured on camera – old, abandoned barns and forgotten warehouses that he had explored with John B and Pope before.

"You like taking pictures, huh?" he asked, his voice a little gentler than usual.

"Wasn't that obvious already?" You asked gently a soft chuckle following your question, watching him closely as he studied your room. You felt a bit anxious and nervous given the state your room was in at the moment. And maybe the fact that the boy you were in love with since you were nine was currently in it. It felt almost unreal. He looked more beautiful under the soft glow of your fairy lights, his eyes sparkling like a little kid's despite the injuries scattered across his pretty face. That reminded you, you were gonna help him out with them.

JJ chuckled softly as your response, his gaze lingering on the photos on the wall for a moment before switching back to you. He couldn't help but notice the way you were watching him, with a hint of nervousness and anxiety.

He tried to act nonchalant, as if he didn't care that he was standing in the middle of a kook girl's room, surrounded by evidence of how little the two of you had in common. "Yeah, I guess it was pretty obvious, huh?

He felt a strange fluttering in his chest as your eyes met, the soft glow of the fairy lights making your face look almost angelic. His gaze lingered on your face for a moment before dropping to the ground, trying to push down the feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

Trying to distract himself, he spoke up again.

"So you like horror movies, huh? Explains why you're not scared of me even when I'm beat up like this."

"You don't look scary..." you spoke softly, shifting on your feet nervously your gaze also dropping to the ground nervously.

JJ chuckled dryly, running a hand through his messy hair. He was well aware of how he must look like right now, a mess of injuries and bruises, his face battered and swollen. Yet you still seemed unfazed by his appearance, your words completely honest and sincere.

He found himself unable to meet your gaze, feeling another flutter in his chest at your unexpected softness. He cleared his throat awkwardly, not used to being spoken to so kindly.

"Yeah, well I can assure you most people find me pretty scary."

"It's okay.." you reassured him, although you didn't know what for. He seemed tense, but you would be too if your father would treat you like that. And then you would have to wander the streets alone all beat up.

JJ felt a pang of something in his chest at your words. He wasn't used to being reassured like this, especially not by someone like you. Most people either avoided him or thought he was some kind of criminal.

He tried to force a smirk, but it came out weak and unconvincing. He felt a strange sense of vulnerability, standing in your cozy, feminine room while he was covered in bruises. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to sit down, to rest for once.

JJ glanced around the room, wondering if it would be rude to just sit down on your bed. Finally, he gave in to the urge, his legs aching and tired from everything that had happened. He gingerly lowered himself down onto your bed, wincing slightly as he felt the soft mattress sink beneath his weight.

You stepped forward nervously, as if you were in his room and not the other the way around, stopping in front of him. You studied his injuries, trying to gauge the severity of them and to know what to do to treat them. You wanted to give him a hug before that, he looked like he needed it, but you weren't sure if he would be okay with that.

You had always wondered what it would be like to hug JJ. He was tall, taller than you, and well... very fit for a 17 year old. You imagined he'd give good hugs if given the chance. But he didn't seem like the guy who would just hug someone, or like physical touch like that. Especially in the state he was in at the moment.

JJ felt your gaze on him as he sat on the edge of your bed, his muscles tensing up involuntarily. He tried to act relaxed, but he couldn't help the feeling of being scrutinized, your eyes roaming over his body and taking in his injuries. He had to fight the urge to snap at you, to tell you that he was fine and didn't need your help.

But there was something in your eyes that made him hold his tongue. It was a look of concern, almost affection, and he wasn't used to seeing it from anyone, especially not a kook.

He shifted awkwardly as you stood in front of him, feeling a flutter in his chest as you looked at him with such concern in your eyes. He could see the wheels turning in your head, trying to figure out how to help him.

"I didn't come here for a pity party, you know." he muttered, trying to maintain his usual tough persona, but his voice sounded almost vulnerable in the soft glow of the room.

Your brows shot up in embarrassment and awkwardness, you didn't want him to think you were pitying him. Just merely concerned from a place of love. But he didn't know that of course. "I'm sorry... I'm just..- worried. I never had to treat injuries this bad."

JJ felt a pang of guilt as he saw the look on your face, realizing that he had sounded harsh and defensive. He gritted his teeth, feeling a strange mixture of vulnerability and frustration. He was used to hiding his pain and brushing off his injuries as if they were nothing. It made him feel weak and vulnerable to admit that he needed help. Like admitting that would make whatever he was going through more real. Reason why he didn't like to burden his best friends with it too much.

He let out a slow breath, trying to soften his tone.

"It's not like it's the first time I got beat up. I can handle it."

"Were you seriously just gonna wonder around until the morning..?" you asked in an almost sad and concerned tone, still standing in front of him awkwardly, your fingers reaching up to adjust your glasses.

JJ glanced up at you, taking in your sad and concerned expression. He had been planning on just wandering around, or crashing on the beach until morning. But in the moment, he couldn't bring himself to admit that. He shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he accidentally jostled one of his bruised ribs. He avoided your gaze, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't really have anywhere else to go, do I?"

He tried to sound nonchalant and tough, as usual, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice. He was used to spending nights alone on the beach, but the thought of spending another night out there, battered and bruised, suddenly felt very cold and lonely.

"That's gotta feel lonely at some point." you stated simply as if reading his thoughts, stepping a little closer shyly, still studying his face intently.

JJ tensed up as you stepped closer, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. He wasn't used to people being this close to him, especially not in such a vulnerable state. But there was something about the genuine concern on your face that made him feel a strange mixture of comfort and frustration.

He tried to brush off your words, as usual. "I'm used to being alone. I don't need anyone's help, especially not a kooks."

"Why is it always about kooks and pogues?" you asked, your brows furrowing in curiosity and something like a hesitant irritation.

JJ couldn't help but roll his eyes at your question.

"Oh come on, don't act like you don't know. It's always been that way. Kooks think they're better than pogues, looking down on us like we're nothing. We're two completely different worlds."

"I never looked down on anyone. If anything it had always been the other way around." you spoke softly, your expression going back to its normalcy, the concern still etched between your features gently.

JJ was taken aback by your words, his tough facade faltering for a moment as he heard the genuine hurt in your voice.

He wasn't used to people speaking to him like this, like they actually cared.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his usual confidence wavering slightly. "Maybe not you, but most kooks are the same. They think they're better than us, just because they have money and power."

"Yeah well... you're in my room. Not someone else's. " you mumbled, shifting on your feet awkwardly.

JJ looked up at you, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in your expression. There was no trace of judgement or anything like that, only genuine concern and a hint of something else that he couldn't quite identify.

He suddenly realized how close you were standing to him, so close that he could see the way your eyelashes curved downwards as you looked at him. He suddenly felt a flutter in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation that he tried to ignore.

He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he spoke.

"Yeah, well, this doesn't change anything. You're still a kook."

His voice came out harsher than he intended, a defensive response to the strange feeling he was experiencing.

Your brows scrunched up almost imperceptibly at his harsh tone, a pang of sadness shooting through you. Your eyes darted across his face nervously, regretting the decision to bring him here, given he seemed to think you pitied him and just wanted to flaunt your rich and snobbish life style. You suddenly felt frozen and like you made things awkward, for no apparent reason, going silent.

JJ watched as your expression changed, and he realized he had messed up. He hadn't meant to hurt your feelings, but his defensive instincts had taken over. He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. You were a kook and he was a pogue. That was just the way things were. There was no room for feelings or anything like that.

But there was something about the way you looked at him that made him feel guilty for being so rude. He tried to backtrack.

"Look... I didn't mean it like that. It's just-"

He cut himself off, realizing that he had no idea what to say. He wasn't used to dealing with his feelings, especially not when it came to a kook girl with the softest eyes he'd ever seen.

He shifted on the bed, feeling more vulnerable and uncomfortable than ever, his bruised ribs protesting at the movement.

You took a small step back, thinking it would be better at the moment. You didn't want to cross any boundaries or make him more hostile than he already was. You were supposed to help him out, not make things worse for him. But somehow now it felt weird, tense. You didn't wan that.

You expression stayed the same, but you tried to push down the feeling of sadness and awkwardness in your stomach, fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie nervously as you tried to mutter a word or something, but the words were stuck in your throat.

JJ noticed your step back, feeling a pang of something in his chest at the distance between you two. He didn't like it, for some reason. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pull you closer, to close the gap between you. He watched as you fidgeted with your hoodie strings, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He could tell that he had hurt your feelings, and it made him feel like a jerk.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the strange, unfamiliar emotions swirling inside him. He rubbed a hand over his face, wincing as it brushed against a particularly painful bruise. "Look, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just not used to people being so..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He wasn't used to people being so... what? Caring? Nice? Kind?

He looked up at you, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment before he quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.

You wanted to step close again, reach in your nightstand drawer and help him with his injuries but you were frozen for some reason. You didn't know what to do, your eyes meeting for a moment, before you both looked away, an awkward and gnawing feeling settling in your chest.

JJ shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't hurt. Every inch of his body seemed to ache, and his head was spinning from exhaustion. He looked up at you, still standing awkwardly a few steps away from him. He could tell that you wanted to do something, perhaps help him with his injuries, but you were holding back.

The urge to reach out and grab your hand, to pull you closer and make the aching in his chest go away, grew stronger by the second. He felt the silence in the room like a heavy weight, the only sound being his own pained breathing. He couldn't stand it any longer. He needed to break the tension, to ease the atmosphere.

His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he spoke."Hey... come here."

You were surprised by his gentle tone, and the hint of vulnerability in his voice. It was strange, hearing JJ being so soft and... well, not tough for a change.

You hesitated for a moment, still feeling unsure and awkward from before. But then you heard the slight pleading in his voice, and any resistance you had crumbled like a house of cards. You slowly stepped closer, closer until you were standing right in front of him again.

JJ tilted his head back, looking up at you as you stood in front of him. He could feel the warmth radiating off your body, and a hint of your scent - strawberries and vanilla - filled his nostrils.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he couldn't quite hide the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He felt strangely exposed and vulnerable, sitting on the edge of your bed while you stood right next to him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted to. And he did, so badly.

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pull you into his lap, to bury his face in your neck and forget about everything else for a moment. But he held back, knowing that it would probably scare you away.

He cleared his throat, trying to control the strange, unfamiliar emotions surging through him.

"I... uhm... you were gonna help me with my injuries, weren't you?"

"Yes..." you muttered weakly, widening your eyes as you realized you were just standing there like a dumbass. You dropped to your knees to rummage through your bottom drawer, looking for your first aid kit and a bottle of painkillers, anxiously.

JJ watched as you knelt down in front of him, feeling yet another flutter in his chest. He wasn't used to people putting in so much effort to help him, especially not a kook.

He couldn't help but notice how pretty you looked on your knees, rummaging through the drawer, your brow furrowed in concentration.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, to run his fingers through your hair, to tilt your chin up and make you look at him. But he knew he shouldn't. He had already messed up enough.

He tried to distract himself from his thoughts by looking around your room, taking in the feminine decorations and makeup scattered on your vanity; your soft colored curtains.

He couldn't help but feel even more out of place, more like a dark spot in the middle of a pristine, beautiful room. He was dirty and battered, and you were soft and sweet, like a porcelain doll.

He suddenly realized how ridiculous it was, him sitting on the edge of your bed, beaten up and bruised, while you knelt on the ground, diligently searching for supplies to treat his injuries.

He felt a new surge of guilt wash over him. He shouldn't be here, in your personal space, in your room and on your bed. He should be out on the street, alone and miserable, like he always was.

He suddenly wanted to leave, to spare you the troubles of dealing with a pogue like him, but he couldn't move. The pain in his ribs and the exhaustion were keeping him there, stuck in this moment of unfamiliar vulnerability and softness.

You had finally found the goddamned aid kit, after looking for it anxiously, grabbing a half empty pain killer bottle that you used regularly and standing up and holding it awkwardly, "you think there's any internal injuries we should worry about?" you broke the silence softly, sitting down on your bed next to him, your brows furrowing as though you were trying to see through him for the injuries for yourself.

JJ tensed up briefly as you sat down next to him, the sudden proximity making his heart race. He tried to ignore the way he felt and focus on your question.

He gingerly prodded his ribs with his fingers, wincing a little as he touched a particularly tender spot. "I don't think so. Just a bunch of bruised ribs, nothing serious."

"Bruised ribs are still bad." you stated with a determined look on your face, "what about your chest? does it hurt?" you asked softly, looking up to meet his eyes.

JJ's heart skipped a beat as he met your gaze, the seriousness and concern in your eyes making his chest ache in a different way than before.

He swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart, and nodded slightly.

"A little. Mostly my ribs, though. It hurts to breathe and move."

Your brows scrunched up a bit in concern and panic at his words. For all you could know, his ribs could be cracked or even broken and he could be downplaying it, "oh my god.. they could be cracked you know? i dunno what to do about that..." you muttered the last part to yourself, your panic growing.

At the sound of your panic, JJ's tough demeanor slipped just a fraction. He could see the worry and concern etched in every line of your face, and strangely, it made his heart feel warm.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said, his voice softer than usual. "It's not that bad. I've had worse. I'm tough, remember?" He forced a cocky smile, trying to reassure you, even though his ribs were protesting with every breath he took.

You shook your head in dismissal, pursing your lips together as your concern and panic started to grow. You were a 17 year old with no medical experience aside from treating a couple of injuries from skating. You didn't even know how to figure out if his ribs were fine and the thought scared you, "listen.. you need to press gently and see if you can feel anything weird aside from the pain.." you spoke, your brows furrowed as you tried to keep your voice steady, to conceal just how scared you were. Scaring him wasn't exactly the way to go about it. Nurses didn't do that. What the fuck were you saying? you were no nurse..

JJ's smile faded as he recognized the genuine worry in your eyes. He felt a pang of guilt for downplaying his injuries, knowing full well that it was making you even more anxious.

He sighed and nodded, lifting up his shirt to gently press his hands against his bruised ribs. He winced at the pain, his stomach muscles tensing up as he carefully felt around. "It hurts, but... I don't think anything's broken."

You grimace as his breathing hitched, your eyes studying the big bruise on his rib under his arm. It looked gnarly, truly like something done with malice, "are you sure? broken ribs can affect your lungs... you need to tell me if they're broken."

JJ let out a soft grunt as he prodded his bruised ribs. He could feel your eyes on him, studying the bruise with a mixture of concern and fascination.

He winced again as he applied slightly more pressure, feeling a sharp pain shooting through his chest. "I don't know... It hurts like hell, but I don't think it's broken. I've had broken ribs before, and it doesn't feel the same."

Your expression soured when he told you that he had broken ribs before. The thought saddened you, in a way you've never been before. Your eyes met, leaving the dark purple and blue ish bruise, a hint of the sadness and care seeping through, "..okay. I'll give you pain killers and you can take a warm shower after I'm done, okay?

JJ was taken aback by your sadness and concern. It was an emotion he wasn't used to seeing directed at him, especially from a kook. He tried to push down the unfamiliar feeling that welled up inside him, the feeling that he didn't want to see you sad.

He nodded slowly, still feeling vulnerable and exposed under your gaze. The thought of a warm shower sounded heavenly after the long, exhausting day he had just had. "Okay. That sounds good."

You fidgeted with the first aid kit contents, your fingers trembling slightly as you grabbed a clean cloth. You gently dabbed at the cut on JJ's cheek, your concentration evident in the furrow of your brows. As you applied the antiseptic, you winced in sympathy, knowing the sting it must be causing him. The look of discomfort on his face mirrored your own, and your concentrated expression melted into a grimace, as if you were the one in pain.

JJ couldn't help but watch you as you cleaned and treated his wounds. Your gentle touch and focused expression somehow made his heart skip a beat, even though he was in pain. He winced as the antiseptic stung his cuts, biting his lip to suppress a hiss of pain.

"Damn, that stings..." he muttered through clenched teeth.

You locked eyes, mumbling softly, "sorry.. i don't want the cuts to get infected.." you scooted a little closer to inspect the injuries more closely.

He had an even more gnarly bruise on his cheek bone than the one on his ribs if that was possible. It looked like he had been slapped pretty hard across the face, or punched with some sort of ring on the attacker's knuckle. The thought made your stomach churn, the cut on his lip was probably the force of the slap splitting the soft flesh of his lips.

JJ shifted slightly, feeling a little self-conscious under your scrutiny. He knew he was bruised and battered, and the way you were looking at him made him feel more exposed and vulnerable than he ever had before.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. But the memories of the fight, and the feeling of your soft, warm skin so close to his, were making it difficult to focus. He couldn't help but notice the concern etched on your face, the way your eyes darkened as you looked at his bruised cheek. He suddenly longed to reach out and take your hand, to pull you closer and feel the comfort of your touch.

But he didn't. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was invading your space, that he was bringing his pain and trouble into your perfect world. He didn't belong in your bright, beautiful room, with its soft colors and warm vibes. He was a dark stain, a reminder of the ugly world outside your door.

He tried to maintain his composure, to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "It looks worse than it feels."

"I doubt that." you responded simply, stashing the antiseptic and cloths back in the first aid kit, adjusting your glasses gently. You looked back at him your gaze softening as you grabbed a band-aid. You placed it carefully over the cut on his cheekbone, puling back slightly to inspect it. "you know, i didn't bring you here to try and shame you or anything... i genuinely wanted to help."

JJ felt a pang of something in his chest at your words and at the surprising softness which you used to place the band-aid over his cut, a soft flutter that he wasn't used to feeling. He tried to hide it with sarcasm, his usual shield against vulnerability.

"Oh really? I thought you just brought me here because you had some sort of kink for battered and bruised guys."

He instantly regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, realizing how crude and harsh they sounded. He was used to using humor and sarcasm as a defense mechanism, but somehow, with you, it didn't feel right.

He looked up at you, wincing internally as he waited for your reaction.

Your brows furrowed at his slightly sharp and crude words, pursing your lips together as you folded your hands in your lap, "you're funny... usually."

JJ mentally berated himself for his sarcastic comment. He hadn't meant to sound rude; it had just come out, a reflex born of years of hiding behind humor.

He saw the subtle frown on your face and felt a pang of guilt. He didn't want to upset you, especially not after you had been so kind and caring. He felt a strange urge to wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a smile. "I'm sorry. That was a poor attempt at humor. I didn't mean to be rude," he said, his voice softer and laced with a hint of genuine apology.

"It's okay." you mumbled, your expression softening. You knew how on edge he probably was, given the day he probably had. "It was kind of funny anyway.." you smiled slightly, letting out a huff of laughter.

JJ felt a small surge of relief at the sound of your laughter. It was a soft, gentle sound, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the dark clouds. He found himself yearning to hear it again, to make you laugh more often. As he found himself when talking to you. It was a reaction his brain had once he heard you laugh and saw the smile on your face.

He felt his heart flutter in his chest as he looked at you, his usual tough demeanor softened by the moment between you two.

He managed a small smile in return, his voice quieter than usual. "Thanks for laughing at my crappy jokes."

This would be the moment in movies where the girl would kiss or hug the boy and they would stare at each other with looks full of love. He was so beautiful, even battered and bruised, that he deserved the look anyway. You wondered internally how something so pretty and angelic got such a shitty deal in life. It was unfair. "well i love shitty humor." you mumbled gently, looking down and then back at him with a small amused smile.

JJ chuckled softly at your words, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't expected you to banter back, and he certainly hadn't expected you to say you love shitty humor. No one had ever said that to him before. He tried to tamp down the fluttering feeling in his stomach, the one that seemed to be getting stronger every time he looked at you.

"Guess I'm your guy then," he replied with a smirk, trying to keep it cool on the outside, while on the inside, he was anything but.

'You really are.' you chuckled internally, your expression softening even more as you let out another quiet laugh at his self deprecating comment.

JJ was mesmerized by the sound of your laughter. It was like a soothing balm for his battered soul. He could listen to it all day long. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at the fact that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one bringing a smile to your face.

He smiled at your soft expression, trying to ignore the way it made his heart flutter in his chest. He wanted to keep seeing that smile, to keep making you laugh, to keep spending time with you, in this small slice of heaven in your bedroom.

He shifted slightly on your bed, wincing as the movement caused his ribs to flare up in pain again. He tried to hide it, not wanting to show any more weakness in front of you.

He looked down at his battered, bruised hands, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. He had caused you so much trouble already. He didn't deserve to be in your pristine room, on your soft bed, in your presence.

He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Thanks again, for... you know, taking care of me."

You looked down at his bruised knuckles and small cuts on his hands, your expression softening yet again, this time a little more sad. Before you could stop yourself, your finger reached up to trace the injuries gently, like you were giving him a palm reading, "you don't have to thank me."

JJ's breath hitched as your soft, delicate finger traced his bruised knuckles. He could feel a jolt of electricity with your touch, a strange sensation he had never experienced before. It was both painful and soothing at the same time.

He tried to control his heart, which was suddenly racing in his chest. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, focusing on the feeling of your gentle touch, the way your skin felt against his rough and battered knuckles.

He swallowed hard, then opened his eyes again, looking up at you. He wanted to say something witty or sarcastic, his usual defense mechanism, but he found that he couldn't speak. He could only look at you, his eyes locked with yours, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the strange feeling in his stomach, the way your gentle touch was sending sparks through his entire body.

He tried to find his voice, managed to rasp out a quiet, "Why not?"

"You don't thank someone for giving you something you deserve, do you?" you asked with a small smile.

JJ blinked at your question, surprised by the simple yet profound logic. No one had ever spoken to him like this before, with such a gentle honesty and compassion.

He looked up at you, the harsh bravado and sarcasm nowhere in sight. He felt strangely vulnerable under your caring gaze, like you were seeing a side of him that he had never shown anyone before. He tried to reply, but found his words stuck in his throat. He simply shook his head in response, his heart fluttering again at the warmth in your eyes.

He looked down at his bruised hands, at your soft, gentle touch tracing over the injuries. He felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions wash over him, a mix of guilt, gratitude, vulnerability, and something else he couldn't quite name. Something he didn't dare to acknowledge, even with your picture sitting snugly in his old wallet everywhere he went.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew he should say something, but he didn't know how to express the strange mixture of feelings churning through him.

Finally, he managed to speak, his voice softer than usual. "I'm not sure what I deserve..."

His words broke your heart even more than it already was. JJ deserved the world and even more. He deserved to wake up in a nice bed and eat the pancakes you sometimes were too picky on eating every morning, or to walk around his own house without fearing the ghost roaming its halls. To not be afraid that he might get a glass or plate thrown at his head, with the intent to blind him or cut into his flesh maliciously. JJ Maybank deserved at least the small sliver of love your parents showed from time to time when they spoke to you. Scratch that, you both could probably do a better job at being each other's parents than the adults in your lives.

You opened your arms shyly, raising your brows in expectancy. The hug would probably be awkward given how you were standing next to each other but you knew he needed it. You knew the look very well.

JJ felt his chest clench at the sight of your open arms, his heart thudding in his chest. He had never been one to show weakness, but the sight of your gentle gesture made him feel strangely open and vulnerable.

He hesitated for a moment, his pride telling him to resist, to maintain his usual tough facade. But the urge to hold you, to feel the comfort of your embrace, was stronger than his pride. He let out a shaky breath, then leaned in, slowly folding himself into the awkward hug.

The moment his body touched yours, JJ felt a strange mixture of sensations. There was the sting of pain from his bruised ribs, the sharp twinge of the cuts on his cheek and lip, but there was also a soft, comforting warmth that spread through his chest, a soothing balm for his weary heart.

He found himself leaning into the embrace, his head tucking naturally into the crook of your neck. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he needed your touch to hold himself together.

You could tell you were in fact right, from the way he hugged you. Like he had been waiting for you to hug him. Your arms wrapped around his neck gingerly, careful not to hurt him. It was the first time you probably initiated a hug, you were always one to shy away from gestures like these but this was JJ, your JJ. You could not, not give him the hug. Not with the way he looked or spoke, like he was 2 seconds away from breaking down.

JJ closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he held you closer, his arms tightening around your waist. The feeling of your arms around his neck, the gentleness and care in your embrace, was making his heart race, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering furiously.

He felt a strange sensation in his chest, a strange wave of emotions he couldn't quite identify. It was a mix of something new, something fragile and beautiful.

He found himself burying his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

He was overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through him. He was used to feeling strong, independent, in control. But here he was, in your soft embrace, feeling vulnerable and fragile, his defences crumbling down with every breath he took of your scent, every gentle touch of your hands on his back, every beat of your heart against his chest.

He knew he should pull away, but he found himself holding onto you even tighter, his body molded against yours, as if he couldn't get close enough,as if he needed your touch to breathe.

You rested your chin on top of his head, letting him pull away when he wanted to. You didn't wanna pull away anyway. It was nice, actually enjoying a hug and not having to worry if it was awkward or if you were too tense or weird. The hug just was.

JJ's breath hitched at the way you rested your chin on his head, his eyes closed as he tried to process the strange feelings swirling through him. He never thought a hug could feel so intimate, so vulnerable, and so... right.

He could feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, the softness of your skin against his cheek, the way your body melded against his. It was a strange, yet soothing sensation, and he found himself not wanting to let go, as if he was afraid to lose this feeling.

He shifted slightly, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it was almost as if he was trying to merge into you, to become one with you.

He knew he was probably being too clingy, too needy, but he couldn't help it. The feeling of your body against his, the comfort and safety of your embrace, was like a drug he couldn't get enough of. He inhaled deeply, letting your scent fill his senses, his heart thudding in his chest.

He found himself mumbling something against your neck, the words coming out as a soft, almost slurred whisper. "Don't let go... please don't let go..."

He knew he probably sounded pathetic, like a wounded puppy seeking comfort from its master. But he couldn't help the desperate plea that escaped his lips. He needed your touch, your warmth, like a drowning man needing air to breathe.

You swallowed a lump that formed in your throat at his words, pulling him a little closer, shifting on the bed gently to move closer, still kneeling next to him on your bed. The thought of JJ sleeping on the beach all lonely and cold could have easily brought you to tears. If you weren't focused on the way he was holding you. A small part of your brain was still struggling to grasp that he was here, in your room, willingly hugging you. You wished he'd sleep at your place often. You could definitely use the company in this scary, imposing house.

JJ could feel the shift in your position on the bed, and it felt strangely intimate to have you so close to him, your body pressed against his. He knew he was probably crossing a boundary, being too needy and vulnerable, but the feeling of your warmth and comfort was too strong to resist.

He breathed in your scent again, his heart rate picking up as the distance between you shrank. His grip on you tightened, his hands gripping your waist as if he was afraid you would disappear into air if he let go.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of emotions he had never experienced before. He had always prided himself on being tough, on being in control, on never letting anyone see his softness and vulnerability. He hated when things got too real.

But there he was, wrapped in your arms, holding onto you like a man drowning, like a wounded animal seeking safety and comfort.

His breathing was ragged, his heart was thudding so hard he was sure you could hear it. But he couldn't let go, he couldn't move away. He needed you, he needed your touch, your presence, like a moth to a flame. And suddenly, JJ didn't feel like shying away from the real stuff. He embraced it, at least for tonight, just like he was embracing you.

Your arms wrapped around his head holding him close to you, one of you hands tracing up and down on the length of his spine comfortingly, trying to make the tension in his body go away, you never had to comfort someone before, doing whatever felt right; whatever you saw in movies or read in books.

JJ felt a shiver run down his spine as your fingers traced the length of his back, tracing soothing patterns that were both gentle and firm. He leaned into your touch, his body relaxing involuntarily, the tension slowly melting away under your soothing touch.

He felt his muscles unclench, his breaths becoming slightly more steady, the rapid thump of his heart steadying to a slower tempo. He felt his eyelids flutter, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. He buried his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

His grip on you loosened slightly, as he felt the exhaustion taking over him. He was so tired, both physically and emotionally. The day had been a roller coaster of events, and the adrenaline and tension were finally wearing off, leaving him to feel like a wrung-out rag doll in your arms.

He let out a soft, barely audible mumble against your neck, the words slurring together.

"I'm... so tired..."

"Come on.. you can sleep of you want. That is, if you don't want to shower." you mumbled, a small sad frown tugging at your face, and you were glad he couldn't see it given you were hugging him.

JJ felt a pang in his chest at your words. He knew he should take a shower, he was sweaty and grimey and he probably reeked. But the idea of moving, of pulling away from your embrace, was unbearable right now.

He shook his head slightly, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. His voice was soft against your skin.

"No shower... just... just let me hold you...please..."

You hummed, nodding against his head. You moved slightly, tugging him further on the bed so he could lay down and sleep. That way he ended up being the small spoon, his face still pressed into your chest, into the soft fabric of your hoodie. You took off your glasses setting on one of the many pillows next to you bringing him closer.

JJ felt a surge of gratefulness as you moved him to the bed, gently tugging him until he was lying on his side, his head pillowed on your chest. The feeling of you pulling him closer, your soft hoodie against his cheek, sent a wave of comfort through him.

He closed his eyes, burying his face into the fabric of your hoodie, inhaling the scent of you. He could feel your steady breaths beneath him, the slow, soothing rhythm of your heartbeat. It was the most soothing feeling he had ever experienced.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he mumbled something too incoherent for you to make out the first time.

"Hm?" you hummed gently, not quite making out what he said.

JJ felt your hum vibrate through your chest, the sound soothing and comforting. He cleared his throat slightly, repeating his soft, slurred words a bit louder this time.

"You... smell good..."

JJ inhaled deeply against your chest, his face still buried in your hoodie. He took a moment to savor your scent, letting it fill his nostrils and his heart, before answering.

"Like... perfume... and... and something... sweet and... comforting...?"

He paused, trying to put his muddled thoughts into words.

"Not like... like... those really strong scents that give you a headache... Yours smell... soft... and... nice..."

"Well... i didn't have time to shower so that's nice." you were in slight disbelief. Here you were, your childhood crush in your bed, in your arms and about to fall asleep. It was nice, even though you weren't dating or anything. You could probably get used to having JJ sleepily telling you, you smell good.

JJ chuckled softly, his voice still slightly slurred with exhaustion. He could feel the tiredness weighing down his body, his eyelids heavy, his mind sluggish. But he didn't want to sleep yet. He wanted to stay awake and bask in the moment, in the feeling of being in your arms, of you holding him so gently, so intimately. Like how he'd imagine it would feel if his mom held him in her arms. Maybe she did, and JJ just didn't remember it.

He shifted slightly, nuzzling into your chest, his arms tightening around your waist.

"You smell fine to me," he mumbled, his breath warm against your skin. His body was pressed up against yours, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of your hoodie. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the rhythm of your breathing steady and soothing.

He felt a strange mix of contentment and vulnerability, wrapped in your arms like this. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

He was suddenly struck by a thought, and he mumbled against your chest. "Do you think... I stink... or something...?"

"No. You smell really nice actually. Like salt water and weed, and obviously male cologne and sun-screen.." you chuckled weakly, threading your fingers through his hair gently.

JJ's eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It was a gentle, soothing gesture, and he found himself leaning into the touch, like a cat seeking affection.

He chuckled softly, his voice still slurred with exhaustion.

"Salt water and weed, huh? Sounds like a nice summer fragrance." He shifted slightly, burying his face deeper into your chest, inhaling deeply. The scent of your perfume and skin and fabric softener of your hoodie mingled together, creating a strangely comforting smell that he could not get enough of.

His body felt heavy, like his bones were made of lead. The exhaustion from the day's events finally catching up to him.

He mumbled against your chest, the words barely audible. "God, I'm tired..."

"Go to sleep JJ.." you mumbled comfortingly, your fingers still moving through his hair.

JJ felt himself nodding against your chest, his body relaxed and heavy. The soothing feel of your fingers moving through his hair, your warm body against his, the sound of your voice in his ear... it was all like a warmth surrounding him. Like sunlight on his skin when he was surfing and he was truly happy.

He mumbled something, his words slurred with sleepiness. "Stay with me...?"

The soft statement surprised you a little but you found the courage to hum in agreement. You knew he was probably just too sleepy, and that didn't mean anything but it still made you feel giddy and like a school girl with a crush, holding him tighter to your chest so he could fall asleep. You'd stay with him forever if he actually asked you.

JJ felt a wave of relief and comfort wash over him at your agreement. The idea of you staying with him, holding him as he slept, was like a soothing balm to his tired weary heart.

He nuzzled into your chest, his eyes closed, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. He mumbled something against your chest, but it was too soft and slurred to understand.

Slowly, gradually, he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, safe and warm in your arms.

The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of your breathing and JJ's soft, sleepy sighs as he slept on your chest.

He looked younger like this, his features relaxed, his mouth slightly open, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looked so vulnerable and soft, not like the tough, sarcastic, bad boy he portrayed in public, especially asleep on your girly bedding and surrounded by dozens of your plushies.

His body was heavy and limp, his arms and legs sprawled out awkwardly, as if he had simply given up on trying to keep himself upright and just succumbed to the exhaustion.

Every now and then, he would mumble something incoherent in his sleep, a soft, almost inaudible utterance. He would shift slightly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, seeking your warmth even in his unconscious state. His breaths were steady and slow, falling into a peaceful, regular rhythm. It was a far cry from the chaotic energy he exuded when awake, the constant movement and joking that seemed to define him.

He seemed so peaceful, so vulnerable, as if all the walls he built up when he was awake had fallen down in his sleep and left him exposed, unguarded.

Despite his usual bravado and swagger, there was something childlike about him in his sleep. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips every now and then, as if he was having a pleasant dream.

He let out a soft mumbling sound, and his arms tightened slightly around you, as if he was afraid to let go, even in his sleep.

You stirred awake, the sunlight teasing you through the dusty pink curtains of your room. It took you almost a minute to realize the weight on your chest and in your arms was JJ. He had actually fell asleep in your arms and in your bed. It wasn't a dream. You propped your self on your elbow gently, gazing down at his sleeping form. He looked so soft and... not tense. His hair was messy and although his face was still battered and bruised he was still angelic looking. He glowed in the soft sunlight.

You were hesitant at first but you leaned in gently and carefully, pressing a small kiss on his forehead. You didn't want him to wake up. That would be weird, you were barely friends as it was, he would probably find it strange if he woke up and found you kissing his forehead while he slept.

JJ stirred slightly as you shifted, his eyelids fluttering open slowly. He felt groggy and disoriented at first, unsure of where he was and why were his nostrils assaulted by a very feminine smell.

As his eyes focused, he realized he was still in your bed, his body pressed against yours, your face just inches away from his. He felt a mix of surprise and embarrassment at the situation. How the hell did he end up falling asleep in your bed? With you? Cuddled up like some damn puppy.

He mumbled something, his voice thick with sleep, his eyes fixed on yours.

He could feel the warmth of your body against his, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. He was too groggy from sleep to fully process the situation, his brain still catching up to the moment.

He noticed the look in your eyes, the soft expression on your face, and he felt a sudden jolt of curiosity and... something else he couldn't quite name. He licked his dry lips, his voice still thick and raspy.

"Did... did I fall asleep on you?..."

"Kind of, yeah.." you mumbled, your voice a little gravelly with the remnants of sleep, your brain holding onto his every word in his sleepy voice. It was slightly deeper and gravelly (which probably would have made you giddy if you weren't half asleep still) like yours and he looked a little messy and confused. So pretty.

JJ felt a mixture of embarrassment and confusion at the revelation that he had fallen asleep on you. He wasn't sure how long he had slept, but judging by the sunlight coming through the curtains, it had been awhile.

He sat up slowly, rolling his neck and running his hand through his tousled hair, trying to get his bearings. He glanced at you, taking in your sleepy expression and messy hair, and he felt that strange flutter in his chest again. You looked... nice like that. Soft and warm and... pretty.

He cleared his throat, fighting back the strange fluttering in his stomach. he was not some damn lovestruck idiot.

He spoke, his voice still raspy with sleep, trying to sound casual. "How long was I out for?..."

You propped your self fully on your elbows gazing at him slightly unfocused from sleep and the lack of your glasses, shrugging shyly. God, his voice sounded so good in the morning. "i was also asleep.."

JJ chuckled weakly at your response. Of course, you were asleep too. It was such a stupid question.

He took a moment to study your face, still so close to his, noting the way your hair was messy and tousled from sleep, sticking out in different directions. He fought back the urge to reach out and run his fingers through that wild hair, maybe even tug on a strand a little... just because.

He cleared his throat again, tearing his gaze away from your messy hair and back to your eyes, a hint of amused confusion in his voice.

"So, I guess we passed out together, huh? In your bed... together..."

He paused for a moment, the reality of the situation sinking in, and he felt that familiar sense of embarrassment and confusion stirring within him. He mumbled under his breath, only half-joking, his southern drawl more obvious since he had just woken up. "This is a bit... awkward, ain't it?"

"I did bring you here to sleep after all..." you mumbled, your words shy and gentle, still laced with sleep as you gazed at him timidly.

JJ chuckled softly at your words, his voice still rough and raspy. "Yeah, you did... but I didn't expect we'd end up cuddling all night... in your bed..."

He tried to sound casual, tried to ignore the weird fluttering of butterflies in his stomach and the way his heart had started to beat a little faster as he looked into your eyes.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to distract himself from the situation, but his gaze kept returning to your face, to your messy hair and sleepy eyes... "I can't believe we slept like this... I must have been exhausted..."

He paused for a moment, his voice getting even quieter.

"Did I... did I talk in my sleep? Or... do anything weird...?"

"I wouldn't know... i was also passed out." you mentioned once again, your hand trying to casually smooth over your hair knowing how messy it got when you slept.

JJ watched as you attempted to tame your wild, tousled hair, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He couldn't deny that he found the whole situation... endearing, in a chaotic, messy kind of way. You looked so different from your usual, reserved self, disheveled and groggy from sleep. He kind of liked it, though, found himself wishing to wake up next to you more often although he'd never admit that out loud.

He shifted a little, the blankets rustling as he adjusted his position, sitting closer to you, his body still warm from sleep.

He found himself wanting to reach out to you, to run his fingers through that messy hair, to smooth it back, to feel the softness of your strands against his skin...

He kept his hands firmly clasped in his lap, though, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He mumbled softly instead, his voice a low, groggy rumble. "You look... different when you just wake up. Cuter, I guess..."

You gave up trying to tame your hair, putting it in a loose bun and searching for your glasses and placing them on your face. This was actually insane. JJ Maybank had slept in your bed, holding you nonetheless and now he was acting all casual about it. Like he didn't spend the night in a girl's bedroom, one he barely knew.

JJ watched as you pulled your hair back into a loose bun and put on your glasses. The whole scene was strangely domestic, and he felt weirdly comfortable. It was all very strange and... nice?

He kept his eyes on you, studying your movements, noting the way your hair still stuck out in some wild directions, despite your attempts to tame it. He found it endearing, somehow.

He leaned back against the headboard, resting his arms on his knees, his voice still low and sleepy.

"So, what... what now?"

"I.. dunno.. " you mumbled, stretching a little and letting out an involuntary squeal as you did, looking back at him and shrugging.

JJ couldn't help but chuckle at the little squeal you let out as you stretched. It was so unexpected, so unlike your usual, reserved self. He found himself liking this... softer, sleepier side of you.

He leaned forward a little, his eyes still on you, amused. "You squeak like a mouse when you stretch?"

"I'm living up to the nickname 'mouse' i guess.." you laughed softly referring to the nickname he called you usually.

JJ chuckled at your comment, a smirk playing on his lips as he remembered the nickname he'd given you. "Ah, right. Mouse. Guess it fits you. Small, skittish, squeaking when you stretch..."

He teased gently, his tone playful but not unkind. He leaned back against the headboard again, studying you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your tousled hair and sleepy expression.

He still couldn't believe he'd woken up cuddled up to you, his arms around you, your body pressed against his. It was all so surreal. And... not unpleasant, he had to admit.

He decided to test the waters a bit, his voice still low and raspy. "So, does this happen a lot? You letting guys sleep in your bed?"

Your brows furrowed at his question, letting out a yawn covering your mouth as you did so, "no...?" what a weird question.

JJ chuckled softly at your confused expression and sleepy yawn. He didn't know why he'd asked that question. It was a stupid question, really. "No? So... this doesn't happen often, then? Letting a guy sleep in your bed... cuddling with him all night..."

He didn't know why he was prodding you, but he liked seeing you slightly flustered and disoriented from sleep. It was... cute, in a way.

"Technically you asked me to hold you..." you spoke shyly, shrugging.

JJ chuckled again, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. He had asked for you to hold him, hadn't he. He just didn't think you'd actually do it, and definitely didn't expect he'd end up falling asleep in your arms.

He paused for a moment, his tone a bit sheepish.

"Yeah, I guess I did. And you actually agreed..." He ran his hand through his hair again, his expression becoming a little more serious.

"Are you... are you always this nice to strangers? You don't even really know me, mouse. And yet... you let me into your bed, slept with me in it, even held me and everything..."

He knew he was digging for answers, asking questions that bordered on personal. But he couldn't help himself. He was suddenly itching to know more about you, the mysterious, shy girl who had captured his curiosity after they spent 20 minutes locked up in a closet at a house party.

'Oh i know you alright.' You thought, "well.. we're friends right?" you asked hesitantly, furrowing your brows. Despite the whole picture thing, which you were curious about. Did he still have the picture of you from that day in the marsh?

Despite that, you had barely talked before all this, before getting stuck in the closet together that night at the party. He wasn't teasing you but, he wasn't talking to you either, barely knew of your existence. And now he was in your bed, probably carrying a picture of you everywhere. Weird.

JJ thought for a moment, considering your simple question.

"Friends? I... I guess so, sort of." He considered whether to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, but decided to go ahead with it, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I have a question."

"Yeah?" you raised your brows, prodding him to continue with his question.

JJ fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, his eyes flickering between your face and the bedsheet, suddenly feeling a bit... shy.

"That day in the marsh... That picture you took of me. Do you still have it?"

"Oh yeah..." you reached for your wallet on your nightstand, fishing the picture from it and holding it out to him shyly.

JJ took the picture from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He felt his heart skip a beat at the brief touch.

He brought the picture closer to his face, studying his own face in the photo. He remembered that moment, how annoyed and pissed off he felt that day before noticing you crouched down between the reeds in the marsh, how you'd caught him in that vulnerable moment in the marsh with your camera.

He turned to you, a hint of embarrassed annoyance in his voice. "You... you really keep this in your wallet?"

"Well i gave you the picture you took of me that day... i thought it was only right to keep it. That's if you didn't keep that picture of me.." you chuckled nervously, adjusting your glasses and shifting on your bed.

JJ smirked at your response, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Of course I still have the picture of you. I carry it around all the time. In my wallet, with me everywhere."

JJ chuckled softly, a smug smirk on his face as he replied to your nervous comment. "I would never throw away a picture of you, mouse. That picture of you... that day in the marsh. I have it with me all the time. In my wallet. Everywhere I go."

JJ watched as you studied the picture, his expression soft. He had been teasing you by taking the photo that day, but seeing you now, seeing your face so close, your smile that he'd captured in that moment... he felt his heart flutter unexpectedly.

"I guess we... we both keep each other's pictures around, huh?"

You nodded mutely, handing the picture of you back to him. The situation was genuinely something so... strange. He was carrying the picture of you like you were a couple, sleeping in your arms and at your place like it was normal. You wondered if he did this usually, sleep over at girl's places and carried pictures of them.

You shifted your attention to glancing around your room, the soft sunlight seeping through the dusty pink curtains, the mess on the floor and the fact that you were still in your hoodie and jeans after having falling asleep with JJ. The first aid kit was still sprawled out on the foot of the bed, reminder that JJ didn't come here on his own. You had invited him over to let him sleep here after a fight with his old man. "what now?" you asked, turning to him, your voice still holding the remnants of sleep.

JJ took the picture from you, his fingers brushing against yours yet again, the touch like electricity on his skin. He placed the picture back in his wallet, his thoughts consumed with the idea that you carried around a picture of him... as he did of you.

He stretched, yawning softly and glancing around the room. This whole situation was so bizarre, but he couldn't deny the strange kind of comfort he felt, being here, in your room...

His eyes landed on the first aid kit, lying on the foot of the bed, and he remembered the reason he was here in the first place.

He looked back at you, his expression turning a little more serious. "Well, I guess I should probably get going... need to head back to the Chateau before the guys start wondering where I am."

He started to get up from the bed, but something in him was reluctant to leave. He didn't want this... strange, comfortable moment to end, this rare moment of quiet and intimacy with you.

He stood up, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to look composed as he glanced down at you on the bed. His eyes lingered on your face, taking in your sleep-tousled hair and sleepy expression. He couldn't help but find it adorable, in a way.

He cleared his throat, his voice a bit rough as he spoke again. "Thanks for... letting me sleep here, mouse. And... for all the bandages and stuff."

You looked down at your lap before standing up off the bed too, now on the opposite side of your bed, nodding hesitantly, "yeah... yeah, no problem." you scanned his form, his face still littered with the bruises and battered, black eye glaring at you in a dark purple.

You liked how he looked in your room, like he was supposed to be here. But that was just your years long crush talking. Being biased wasn't good for the heart, you learned throughout the years of liking JJ. You wondered if his bruised rib was doing any better, or if he liked sleeping with you, in your arms. But you were too shy to ask of course. And he was on the cusp of leaving anyway.

JJ couldn't help but notice the way you were looking at him, your gaze taking in his bruised and battered face. He felt a flicker of embarrassment, hating that you had to see him like this, all beaten up and wounded.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling a bit awkward now that the strange, intimate atmosphere of the night seemed to be fading with the impending departure of the morning.

He glanced around the room, taking in the soft pink curtains, the messy floor, the small touches that made this place unmistakably yours. It was a stark contrast to the Chateau, to his chaotic and messy existence. He found himself wondering what it would be like, to be a part of this orderly, peaceful space.

His eyes fell on a framed picture on your dresser with you and your parents. He couldn't help but feel a pang of... what was that? Jealousy?

He took a step closer, studying the picture. You looked so happy in it, surrounded by your family, the picture filled with genuine joy. It was a stark contrast to his own family, or the lack thereof. He felt a pang of something painful in his chest, a mix of envy and longing for a life he'd never known.

He tore his eyes away from the picture, his gaze landing on you again. His voice was unusually quiet, almost fragile.

"This your family?"

You walked around the bed, stopping next to him awkwardly nodding. The picture was of you, your sister and your parents, on a vacation 4 years ago. The picture looked like you were all happy, the shot taken by another passer by tourist that your parents had asked. You weren't that thrilled to go with them that summer, but that was the only way 13 year old could spend time with emotional distant parents. And it wasn't like they were gonna leave you at home all alone at 13. How things changed, you thought. They're barely home with you now as you near the age of 18.

"yeah.."

JJ nodded slowly, studying the picture with a mix of jealousy and curiosity. It seemed so... normal, so perfect. A happy family on a vacation, smiling for a photo.

He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like, to have parents who cared enough to take him on vacations, to have a family that didn't fall apart at the seams.

He looked back at you, his eyes soft but his voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

"Must be nice."

He turned away from the picture, leaning against the dresser, his gaze flickering around the room once more. He felt a little out of place, like a wild animal that had somehow stumbled into a pristine, well-kept sanctuary. He was used to chaos, the Chateau, the constant fights and drama, the lack of stability and safety. This room, with its neatness and quiet peace, felt like a different world. A world he was just a visitor in, passing through on his way to something else.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped slightly.

He glanced back at you, taking in your shy, awkward stance next to him. There was something vulnerable about you right now, something that tugged at his heartstrings in a way he wasn't used to. He felt an unfamiliar urge to protect you, to shield you from the cruelty of the world. But he also knew he was the last person who should be doing any protecting. He was a Pogue, a mess, a lost cause. What could he offer you? A shitty life in the trailer park? Hell no. He knew what happened to that one dude from Greek mythology when he flew too close to the sun. And he was feeling like he was nearing that point by extending his stay here, with your warm presence that seemed to be melting his wax wings slowly.

He couldn't allow himself to free-fall.

He cleared his throat, his voice gruff as he tried to act nonchalantly, to cover up the vulnerability he was feeling.

"I guess I better get going, then. The guys are probably starting to wonder where I am. They're probably wondering why I was out all night, instead of crashing on the couch at the Chateau."

You drew in a sharp breath, nodding once again. You knew your parents weren't home, so him leaving through the front door wasn't a problem. "I'll walk you out.." you mumbled, gesturing towards the door of your room vaguely.

JJ nodded and made his way towards the door, followed closely by you. His mind was filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions, ranging from gratitude to uncertainty, lingering thoughts of the night before, the strange comfort he found in your presence, in your bed, in your embrace. As he reached the front door, he turned to you one last time, his gaze meeting yours. "Thanks... for everything, mouse."

He flashed you a small, lopsided smile, his usually cheeky smirk replaced by a surprisingly genuine one. For a moment, he looked younger, less hardened by his life on the Cut.

Then, with a final nod, he pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool, crisp morning air. JJ wasn't gonna let his wings melt and free-fall. He didn't have the luxury to..

—♡‧

A/N: Not them cuddling all night and carrying pictures of each other, like... King and queen of (was it casual?) They'd eat that tik tok trend up. Idk how this ended up also kinda angsty. Anyway, do not fret because next chapter we're finally getting action! It was about DAMN time. What did you guys think? love you all sm and don't hesitate to comment and send asks my fav part of this is interacting with y'all.

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Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen

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blacklegsanjiii · 6 months ago

Note

This one is about ASL x Fem!Sanji

Like, with Sanji is common boys flirting with him, and they already are jealous, but Fem!Sanji?!

The girl is being flirted with by boys and girls, at first it was only boys but after they turn teens girls start to flirt with her too. And let me tell you, the girls probaly were even more flirty and straight forward.

As they grow up the amount of girls flirting with their girlfriend grows too. ASL, Makino, Zeff and even Garp and Dadan just know Sanji is too pretty for her own good.

Okay so, Fem!Sanji my beloved oblivious blonde, she's so dumb and has a self image so skewed she doesn't believe anyone would flirt with her. She's not used to overt affection and then is only used to her boys doing it with her. They also don't flirt with Sanji, not in the way most normal people think of flirting. They actively fight for her attention and hold onto her and carry her around. Sanji is so used to her boys vying for her attention most interactions will go over her head. The Baratie is famous not just for the food but the gorgeous blonde who works there and for the trail of heart break she leaves across the East Blue. It's hilarious. Sanji will be waiting tables and is left a bunch of den den numbers on the receipts that get staked at the end of the day. There's a betting pool with the employees and the regulars about how long the banned list is going to be at the end of the month. It's an unfortunate state that the Clown of the East Blue is winning but ah well.

It's not as bad as when Sanji takes her boys on supply on runs. Sanji has so many extras piled into her shopping it confuses her, the women will often try to lure Sanji away into the makeup stores and perfume stores as if her boyfriends won't follow her until their dying day. Dadan keeps trying to explain to Sanji that she draws a lot of attention to herself because she's not from the East and everyone can tell that. She's pretty and her hair is like a cloud of curls and fluff that's incredibly soft. Sanji thinks so poorly of herself that she's lucky she somehow managed to pull three feral jungle boys to date her and she only thinks it's because of Zeff and Garp. Dadan wants to strangle her.

It doesn't matter who is blunt and straightforward because Sanji just doesn't believe them whatsoever. She doesn't even believe her boyfriends half the time and it only gets worse after they start heading out. First Ace, then Sabo, then a few years later Luffy who somehow manages to convince Sanji to go with him. Everyone loses the betting system for who Sanji sets off with. It's a wild and funny joke to the betting pool because of course the clown won after the shitshow that was Orange Town. But Sanji keeps getting flirted with. Loguetown sees her being offered good luck charms left and right, some expensive which she hands off to Nami when asked. Nami smiles and sells the trinkets back except for this aquamarine one that Sanji had explained is said to bring good luck to sailors and she lost hers piercing her boyfriends ears because they wanted something of hers to take with. Nami is confused by the statement because Sanji is dating Luffy and Sanji is looking at her with a smile before Nami puts the earrings on Sanji while blushing madly because yeah. She's cute. Nami gets glared at by Luffy afterwards and told Sanji is his girlfriend and Nami agrees and asks what's wrong with what she did and Luffy pouts and says people do that to Sanji all the time, it's annoying. When the question is asked by Usopp how often this happens Luffy shrugs and says it was worse when all three of them were there with Sanji to everyone's confusion. Who are the other two?

They find the first one on the way to Alabasta by giving Luffy's older brother Ace a lift and watch him drape over Sanji and plant kisses on her. Ace and Zoro are pack mules for a resupply at an island before they make it and Zoro watches Sanji get hit on over and over and her not realize as Ace glares at everyone who does. Then some random guy puts a necklace on her and Zoro watches Ace pull Sanji after giving the guy some beri and Zoro follows helplessly because Ace looks upset and is telling Sanji she can say no and Sanji is arguing he was just being nice. When Zoro asks Ace about it he sighs and tells Zoro about how Dadan used to say Sanji was too pretty for her own good. Then Zoro watches Ace set a large bouquet of flowers some girls are giving Sanji on fire. Ace says he and his brothers were never good at sharing as Sanji stomps angrily towards them and land a solid kick against Ace's stomach. Zoro tells her to quit flirting and gets one of his own. Ace sighs and says Sanji doesn't know what flirting is, even if someone hit her on the head with a two by four. Zoro thinks she's dumb.

Robin watches Sanji get vast discounts on her suits, more than Nami could bargain for. The seamstresses and tailors tend to take her measurements with too many touches and lingering fingers that make Robin watch the girl closely. She laughs about it with the crew, about how the blonde doesn't understand what's happening and Luffy says she's always been like that and except for the one time some guy grabbed her or something and she kicked him so hard he flew into a tree or something and it was the first they saw Sanji do that and Ace asked for him to get kicked and Sabo choked on his spit so badly that he turned blue. Then Zeff kicked them off Baratie because of it. Robin asks about the girls and Luffy says they were always the worst because Sanji's never really been around girls except Dadan and Makino, he thinks Sanji has a sister though but he's not sure. Chopper goes to talk to Sanji about several things which leave her red faced throughout dinner.

When the crew, all of them, meet Sabo and Koala they watch Koala stumble around her words and steps when she catches sight of Sanji. Robin and Luffy giggle as Sabo smirks. Sabo takes the two ladies out to lunch so that he and his girlfriend might catch up and he wants to see how down Koala is for Sanji. He doesn't account for them being served by a waitress and her and Koala fighting for Sanji's attention and Koala speaking over him because maybe she didn't hear that Sanji is his girlfriend and what that means and what she's doing because Koala and the waitress keep trying to one up the other, Koala with stories and the waitress with samples of dishes and desserts. Sabo watches with slight glee as the meal ends and they make it of the restaurant and take Sanji back to the crew. Sanji giving a very sweet to Sabo and him promising a date soon just the two of them as they wave goodbye and the Strawhat crew leaves.

"No fair you got a kiss." Koala whines.

"Completely fair, I've been dating Sanji for years." Sabo argues.

"You just met her today like I did." Koala argues back.

"Koala, I am a very jealous man and it took all my strength to not burn down that restaurant and run off with Sanji. I've been dating her since I heard what dating was in Windmill Village. I already share her with Ace and Luffy." Sabo sighs. Koala's eyes widen as she does the math. "Yeah, last I heard Ace lit someone's kimono on fire in Wano and Luffy regularly punches people. But you're doing so much paperwork when we get back for flirting with my girlfriend after I said she was."

"Fuck."

#black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #vinsmoke sanji #straw hat luffy #fire fist ace #sabo one piece #acesan #sanace #lusan #sanlu #cat burglar nami #sabosan #answers #fem!sanji #asl+s

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le-chevalier-au-lion · 2 months ago

Text

always the same question, always the same answer: rosquez [t], part 2 of did you run here?

Even the cooling vest is sticking to him with sweat. It feels fucking sweltering inside his helmet, the air thick and soupy like a swamp. To Marc’s right, they’re sliding an icepack under Pecco’s leathers, handing him another bottle of Gatorade. He can barely see the sliver of skin around his eyes, but it’s easy to guess he’s miserable.

Ages ago, on a Saturday he barely remembers, people were worried about riders’ health in this kind of weather. He’s probably given interviews about it.

But Marc—

Marc forces himself to breathe, once, twice, his lungs expanding and contracting convulsively inside his ribcage. Strictly speaking, nothing that is going to happen in his immediate future is Pecco’s fault. The weight lingers at the bottom of his stomach, though. Heavy and poisonous like lead. Dizzy. He’s never disliked his teammate, exactly, but today, seeing him is a whipcrack on Marc’s back.

It’s always the heat that gets to him first—humid, suffocating. Like a shroud.

“Hey, hey.” One of his mechanics. Marc blinks, shudders. “Are you really sure about softs? They’re going to—race simulations are saying five or six laps before they just go.”

His smile is mostly reflex. It takes him a moment to realize nobody can see it.

“Yes, I’m quite sure,” Marc says.

“Ah, alright—”

Marc shakes his head. “I don’t think the predicted drop-off is going to be a problem. We can expect especially the KTMs behind us to fall off around lap ten or so, and Fermín isn’t so confident with his breaking.” He sounds delirious, he realizes.

There’s a long, stunned glance, and things are jumbled, out of order. A kaleidoscope of explanations he’s given, again and again and again, losing coherency.

The pounding of blood in his ears rings deafeningly loud. Marc is pretty sure he’s about to have a migraine in a couple of hours, except—

Ha.

“I’m quite sure,” he repeats, scraped raw until there’s no charm left.

“If you’re confident.”

Confidence has nothing to do with knowing how things will happen. Marc laughs inside his helmet, a quiet, rotten thing, inaudible through the roar of bikes being set up and revved. He has twelve laps to—not save himself. It never works.

To have fun, maybe. One last ride before things fall apart.

But just thinking about it makes his stomach roll, revolting against him. Marc braces his weight on the bike, blood-red and ominous, his throat burning, eyes stinging.

What a joke.

His hands shake. Wet and clammy with sweat inside his gloves. It’s Valentino’s fault, he decides, justified in the spike of red-hot anger that surges through him. Things rarely go wrong in Sepang without Valentino somehow being behind it, especially since he got pulled into this shitshow. The pleasure of blaming him is petty, edged with thorns. Same as always, since 2015, since this started.

It hurts him more than it hurts Valentino.

Valentino who knocked him from his dying and rising routine. Valentino who refuses to answer his questions. Valentino who won't fucking apologize for once in his life.

The horn blows. Five minutes to start the race. His heart hammers, sick, heavy, edging towards something that might be panic. He keeps thinking about Álex. Hates, hates, hates that he's thinking about Álex at all, about shouting at him this morning because suddenly everything'd seemed too small, too grating.

Like the only way he'll get out of this loop is in a body bag.

But he's some twenty minutes away from, well, another show. T5, lap 12, as it usually is. The day will restart, everyone none the wiser about what happened to him. No pain to anyone but him.

The worst part are the ten hours after Marc dies—before the day restarts.

Valentino walks on leaden legs, like a zombie. Repetition has taught him with a whip to his back, so he walks away from the circuit.

Can’t bear to face Álex Márquez again. It feels too personal, like a razor blade lodged in his throat, to see him cry silently, hot, desperate tears into the crook of his arm, in the middle of the Gresini garage. Even knowing it isn't permanent. Even knowing he won't remember it tomorrow.

Poof, like a magic trick. Right now, though, before the reveal of a whole Marc Márquez, sleeping soundly in his hotel, there’s the nausea burning in his throat, the sickly, clammy fear of seeing disembodied legs.

A scream rings out through the circuit.

Valentino knows what it means.

Stops mid-walk to throw up into a trash can. It’s just stomach acid, no food.

He’s never hated Marc quite like this. Not in Phillip Island, not in Argentina, not every single time Marc gave an interview pretending that he was still his idol. Not even in Jerez, watching him kneel on the dust over the replays, his arm cradled close to his chest. A laugh—manic—rips out of him, and if he doesn’t keep moving, somebody is going to find him to tell him what happened.

But he wastes precious minutes trying to convince his chest to stop seizing up and his legs to start moving again. The sound of helicopter cuts through the lethal silence that hangs over the track now.

Emergency evac. Valentino crashes back into his own body.

And starts running back to the hotel as chaos descends over the circuit.

The next ten hours crawl by. Second by second by second, people knocking on his door, trying to call. Valentino is too tired to try and pull up footage from the crash, to try and divine what went wrong this time.

Nothing did, really.

Marc was fighting Pecco for the position, just an inch ahead. He lost the front, because he’s a maniac and chose a soft tire for the hottest race Sepang they’ve ever had. Had been running on soap for five or so laps. Pecco was too close. Had no room to react, though he tried.

Valentino has seen it happen before.

It’s easier to close his eyes, the hairdryer running in the bathroom. He doesn’t sleep. Just feels the time trickle past him, a barbed chain wrapped around his throat.

Just once, why can’t Marc stop fighting?

When the day restarts, Valentino can’t breathe through the anger tightening up the chain, spikes tearing into him.

Things jerk around him in flashes of color. Senseless. A kaleidoscope. Cinderella in reverse. He runs to Marc’s floor, takes the steps two at a minute.

He hammers against Marc’s door. It’s eleven minutes after midnight, five wasted trying to right himself after the universe tossed him back to ground zero, his knees giving out, his body cold and out of sync, something tugging inside him like a fishhook.

This is the soonest—

Marc yanks the door open. “Valentino?” Then: “What the fuck?”

It’s right there, locked behind his teeth, I hate you I hate you I hate you, but nothing comes out. He just stumbles into Marc’s hotel room, knocking past him. His skin is warm where Valentino touches, mostly by accident. Alive. Real. Fucking alive.

Any of these days, the clock is going to strike midnight, and Marc will still be dead.

Valentino claws at the skin of his wrist. It pours out of him, wretched, too true, and shame fills the space that the words emptied up, “Can you not race tomorrow?”

Marc blinks, sluggish. He’s leaning on the wall like it’s going to hold him up, eyes flickering between his hands and Valentino and the clock.

There is no offense at the suggestion, this time. Valentino has never done anything like this before.

Can’t predict Marc’s next move.

Except—

Marc looks—briefly—heavenward. Valentino hears himself scoff in this out of body dread, the clammy millisecond before he hits the asphalt and discovers if the crash is as bad as he thinks it’s going to be. There’s this look in Marc’s eyes, even in the dark. Hopeful. Hopeful enough to twist the knife in his stomach.

“How many times have you gone over today?”

Valentino smirks—like he has a knife tucked between his lips, joylessly, scraped raw. “Once or twice. It’s not like you ever take it seriously.”

His hand slams against his mouth. He hadn’t meant to—he hadn’t even had time to think—

Marc spits out a sound not unlike a snarl. His shoulders are hunched, and he’s shaking, shaking from head to toe, hands covering his face. When he rips them away, they are clenched at his sides. Valentino has never been afraid of being hit by him before.

“Why can’t you answer me?” He hisses. “Is it so fucking difficult? Once, just once, can’t you tell me one little truth? How many times have you gone over today?”

His scream echoes. Valentino facies it tears through like a gunshot. His ears ring.

The silence that follows is the quiet of a tomb.

“How many?” Marc asks again, because he can’t resist the pain, can’t resist forcing the broken bone until it splinters with no hope of salvaging anything. He’s still shouting. There’s this look in his eyes, dark and rabid, like he’s going to gnaw off a limb.

Valentino thinks he has frozen over.

“You know,” he whispers.

Marc runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck this,” he says emphatically.

“You know you’re going to die.” He sounds deliberate, calculated. Each time he opens his mouth, he isn’t sure it’s him speaking. “And you get on that bike anyway.”

“Christ,” Marc sighs, low and tired and—fuck him. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

Valentino laughs, three quarters reflex and a little vindication, the laugh he gave Uccio when he cornered him in Phillip Island, ten years ago, Marc’s weird telemetry being brandished like a knife. “I know that you apparently decided to die every day for months now.”

Marc bursts over. “I don’t decide to die!”

“Then why don’t you stop it?” He’s shouting too. Valentino hasn’t shouted in an argument in fucking years, loathes doing that. To speak is to fill himself with blood, the wound ever-flowing.

“Stop it?! What the fuck do you mean?”

“Don’t go out, don’t race, stay alive. Or are you so obsessed with wining and getting that ninth title that it never crossed your mind to lie down?”

It’s only five points between him and Pecco. He would try again and again to fix it on the bike—isn’t the one who has to go through those ten hours.

Marc pushes him, stumbles back himself. His teeth are wrenched, but a small, wretched sound still slips out. He sounds animalistic when he speaks, “Are so obsessed with your lost tenth that you can’t see I’ve tried? I don’t want to die!”

“Am I supposed to believe this?”

“Hell if I know the shit you tell yourself,” Marc snorts, an ugly thing. Valentino gags. “But go on. It’s not like I can stop you, and it’s not like I give a damn. I’m not the one who needs to deal with this.”

“Prove it to me,” Valentino grinds out. He barely hears himself.

Marc sits on the bed and starts laughing—starts cackling. Hysterical. Right until he starts choking on it, a noise that rakes over Valentino’s nerve endings. Everything suddenly aches. He wonders if the days restarting mean the exhaustion gets rolled back too. Doesn’t remember the last time he managed to sleep.

Every second is—

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Prove it to me,” he repeats. The words come up like bloody petals lodged in his chest. “Prove it to me that you’ve fucking tried to not die at least once.”

The mania bleeds out of Marc. He gets serious, suddenly. Stone-faced. Hollow.

Valentino has seen footage of it happening dozens, hundreds of time. The folded set of his hands, in front of his body. His wide, doll-like eyes. Sepang, Sepang, it’s always Sepang.

“Valentino,” he says, very calmly. He kicked me, “get out.”

#rosquez #marc marquez #valentino rossi #motogp #motogp rpf #rpf #chev fics #did you run here?#time loop au #IT LIVES #talking to people about this finally something click about this chapter #many thanks #i wrote maniacally like i was possessed so actively doubting my sanity but IT LIVES

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portablechargertmblr · 6 months ago

Text

Types of characters on election day

Cause we rly need something nice after watching that shitshow

An absolute mess. Crying every time they think about it, literally takes a day off from school/work cause they can FEEL the stress making them sick. Needs constant mental health checks and cuddles. Tub of ice cream on the couch and fav romcom is a MUST in the household. Izuku Midoriya, Meguru Bachira, Hinata Shoyo, Yuta Okkotsu, Historia Reiss, Suguru Geto, Armin Arlert, Atsushi Nakajima

Starts a whole internet war I'm talking Azaelia Banks twitter beef, they get straight to business. Has a dual-monitor layout so they can read through their feeds faster. Locked TF in and literally nothing can pry them from their gaming chair. Somehow gets banned on Pinterest after telling a MAGA board user to k*ll themselves? Is gonna need water refills and ice after all the aggressive jamming on the keyboard their fingers will endure. A good neck massage from sitting all day wouldn't hurt, if you stick around long enough that is. Eren Jaeger, Isagi Yoichi, Toge Inumaki, Hisoka Morrow, Asta, Katsuki Bakugo, Conner Kent, Raichi Jingo, Kenma Kozume, Tomura Shigaraki

Huh? There's an election? Literally the most clueless ones ever. If you try to explain they will try their best to understand why you care so much, but ultimately can live their day unburdened (lucky bitches). Will definitely try and take your mind off of it if you seem worried. They probably think Joe Biden is still running. Seishirou Nagi, Connie Springer, Yuji Itadori, Denki Kaminari, Choso, Toji Fushiguro, Rin Itoshi, Ryunosuke Akutagawa

Ran for president as a joke, doesn't understand why everyone hates them now Satoru Gojo, Tooru Oikawa

That's all for now your girl is TIRED hope this helps cheer anyone up cause sheesh.. These results r not it

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talaok · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, I was watching your writing and I'm in love, could you do one where Pedro Pascal and the reader have a child and are very famous?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

A/n: OK. i'll be honest i panicked cause I don't know if by have a baby you meant giving birth to one or having having it, so I googled it and Google said the first one, so I went with that.

Having to sneak out of your own home while in active labor definitely wasn't on your to-do list, but the mob of paparazzi right at your front door didn't give you much of a choice.

It was midnight, why the hell they were still there was well beyond you, but then again, everything that had happened since you and Pedro were first spotted together had been just as crazy.

It was like a media tornado. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about you, and of course, a constant need to regurgitate it on the internet, magazines, and even newspapers at one point.

It was ridiculous it's what it was.

And when the vultures found out you were pregnant... oof, you can imagine what a shitshow that was.

A camera was being pointed at you every time any of you left the house, whether you saw it or not, you could be certain it was.

And Pedro had tried to do everything in his power to stop it, he wasn't someone who lost his cool very easily, but when it came to you and the child growing in your belly... he transformed completely.

He had filed lawsuits and spoken with everyone he could to let you have some godforsaken privacy and peace, but when that clearly wasn't working he started to get more practical.

You walked everywhere with him now, so that the moment the paparazzi got even a tiny bit annoying he could do his best to try and make them stop (which oftentimes required him to scream at them to "let you fucking breathe").

And now, that the media had somehow obtained your due date, of course, Pedro had planned the perfect escape route.

Which was why he was now backing up the car to rush to the hospital.

"You ok?" he breathed, although his lungs had long been uncooperating.

"yeah" you hissed through another contraction "just-hurry please"

His eyes were on the road the whole time, but you could feel him staring nonetheless.

His right hand was holding yours for dear life, telling you -I'm here, it's all gonna be fine- all the way to the delivery room.

"Just another push" the doctor said, and you obliged, pushing and squeezing Pedro's hand until all his veins were seconds from popping.

And then-just when you were ready to say fuck it, I'm done here, you heard it- you heard the cry, and you didn't know why, you didn't know how... but tears, tears a mile long started flowing from your eyes.

"It's a girl," The doctor said, handing the now blanketed child to you, into your arms.

If you could you would have told him that it wasn't a good idea, that your arms felt about as strong as noodles right now- but all you could do was watch, as the baby -your daughter- stared back at you with her dad's eyes.

"hey" you felt a voice to your left, and turned to find Pedro crouching beside you.

"hey there" he whispered to the baby, letting his finger trail her minuscule face.

"It's your daddy," he murmured "Listen, I know you're probably tired and don't wanna listen to me, but I just wanted you to know-" he paused, looking almost unbelieving, like he was waiting for the moment he would blink, and everything was gonna disappear, his daughter, you, everything he cared for the most in the world just... poof.

But you didn't.

And he still couldn't believe it.

"I just wanted you to know that I love you" he said, "I love you and your mommy more than anything, anything in the whole world" he kissed her pretty forehead "And I swear... I swear I'm gonna spend every single day of my life proving it"

You smiled through the tears, as he struggled to fight back his.

"I'm sorry, we need to take her for a moment" The doctor spoke again,

You had forgotten he was still in the room.

"Do you?" Pedro asked, although he already knew the answer

"We do, Mr. Pascal, I'm sorry, we need to wash her and make sure she's all right"

He sighed, looking down at the tiny creature in your arms with a glint in his eyes you had never seen before.

"fine" he mumbled

You sniffled, staring down at her.

"I love you." you murmured, kissing her cheek "God, I love you so much" you chuckled, before handing her to the nurse.

Please be careful, you had to fight the urge to say.

And just like that- only you and Pedro remained in the room.

Silence, a light, stunned, happy silence fell- and only after you regained consciousness, and realized what just happened, did all the noises come back.

The beeping of the monitor, the buzzing of the tv, and- and shouts from outside, talking and murmuring of what you already knew was a crowd.

Pedro must have noticed too, because he went to peek from the window.

"I'm gonna kill them" he sighed, his forehead falling to the glass, watching as interviewers and paparazzi clogged the entrance of the hospital.

"It's a lot?"

"Yeah"

Again, silence.

"Baby?" you called

"yes?"

"We'll think about it later," you said, holding your hand out for him.

He immediately took it.

He crouched next to you and you looked at one another, so many things to say and yet no idea how to say them- until- until-

"We have a daughter" you smiled

And he laughed, he laughed all the happiness and anxiety right out of his body.

"We do" he grinned, his eyes teary "We have a daughter"

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year ago

Text

the warmest bed i've ever known

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few days after 'when the feeling sinks in'

Summary: Tom has convinced you to go back to London with him for a few weeks, and a photo of you two out and about together has opinions firing left and right.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings (spoilers ahead): language; big hater behavior towards Reader; attempted breakup; angst; brief mentions of past bullying [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Tomathy fully in his comforting precious bf era

Numb.

That was the only word that came to mind right now to describe what you felt, staring at your screen with all the hateful vile words that people who didn't even know you were flinging your way. And all because of the man you were dating. And how much you looked like a downgrade compared to his ex.

Then again it really shouldn't have surprised you, considering the turn your life had taken in the last few months. Hell, the last few days. There was really no other way for these nameless faceless spineless people to react when the man you'd started dating was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

And the figuratively ridiculously large shoes you had to fill considering the rising power of said ex…was Taylor Swift's.

You shouldn't have gone online. Checked Twitter. Checked anything, really. They rarely if ever had anything good to say, it was a special kind of stupid and naive for you to think that someway somehow you and your relationship were going to be the exception to the vitriolic rule.

Now here you were, screechy voices filling your mind, spitting out the words that your eyes scanned when you opened the cesspool of a sight.

Nothing special

Unremarkable

Fucking stab my eyes out with a rusty fork ugly

To be completely fair, you'd seen worse when you were still in school, every day inundated with the mocking words that sociopaths with hormones on overdrive wielded recklessly like a goddamn balisong without care that the person on the receiving end was actually a person. And if that was the shitshow you experienced from people brave enough to sign those sentiments with their name and say it to your face with chests fully puffed out, then the bravery of these people when they were all snuggled up under the protective cover of anonymity really shouldn't have shocked you.

Finding out who they were behind the screen and dealing out retribution on your own terms would have been a simple enough task. After all, you'd done it before, and even with the current advancements in technology and the tighter security protocols centered around protecting user data, you still managed to keep a few tricks in your bag that you could whip out if the need ever arose.

There was just one thing that stopped you from doing just that. A part of you agreed with the vicious comments. It was easy enough to ignore when people in school were just making hateful pages about how you sucked and how no one would ever genuinely like you. Or when they made pages pretending to be you so that they could dole out their paltry attempts at trying to ruin what little reputation you had at the time.

When you dealt with them on that comparatively smaller scale, it became easy to numb yourself to their words, drown them out until they were just white noise in the background, keeping you focused on the path you laid out for yourself rather than distracting you. It gave you a drive to work harder and better so that you could get as far away from them as possible.

On this scale, the background noise was so strong, so loud and overwhelming that every step you took to fight it seemed to take every ounce of your strength. It felt like there was no way out. You couldn't just hunker down and work hard so that you could get away from it all this time. And you couldn't exactly ignore them, either.

How could you? When they were voicing with pinpoint accuracy every insecurity that plagued you ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago. Ever since your first night with him months ago.

So is this some sort of Make-A-Wish thing? That's it, right? She's on her last few months and she wanted to live them in delusion?

Fifty bucks says Tom's active on Raya right now. Quick someone send me an invite link I wanna shoot my shot. Tommy don't worry baby I'll save you from whatever the fuck mistake you got yourself into.

How the fuck do you go from Taylor Swift to that?

The most prevalent remarks in the last few hours had to do with a sighting of you sitting on a park bench, working on creating a wardrobe piece for an upcoming show that, if all went well, would start filming in a few years. The book author and the prospective showrunner got in contact with you after a glowing recommendation from Taika, and they talked about struggling to find the perfect scarf that would serve as one of the series' focal points.

After a few discussions and so many skeins of yarn that there was now an oversized tote bag in your hotel room overflowing with various shades of dark teal and peacock blue, you started crocheting a sample size of the pattern to show the author later on in the afternoon before you went to meet Tom for dinner. And that was how you were spotted this morning, sitting quietly on the bench, eyes on your project while your boyfriend was taking Bobby for a walk.

And for some reason the internet was up in arms over that,

Are you really fucking telling me this boring ass bitch that's giving old lady crocheting a goddamn scarf is fucking riding the God of Mischief every day? Nuh uh nope I don't believe that. Our Tommy deserves someone fun, and actually fucking pays attention to him and not a ball of yarn. Our baby deserves so much better than this.

You stared at the desk in front of you, your sample scarf to the left, and your laptop at the center, the screen now black from inactivity. You couldn't bother to move to check the time; your reminder would ring when your call would start. All you could bring yourself to do was remain exactly as you were, knees drawn to your chest with your arms around your legs, shaking and doing your damnedest not to break out into sobs over the knowledge of what you were about to do as soon as the door opened.

It was a good run, you told yourself. More than I deserved.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you back to reality, the voices finally dying down somewhat. Unfortunately, hearing Tom's voice started the voices right back up again.

"Y/N, darling, have you finished with your call? I was hoping we could go out tonight for dinner and--" His words stopped abruptly once he got to his study, seeing you in the position you'd been in for the last few hours, and immediately rushed to your side, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What's wrong, goddess?"

"I uhh…I have to go back to Los Angeles. I'm gonna see if I can make the next flight back." You didn't dare meet his eyes, still trying to hold back any tears.

He let out a breath, sounding almost relieved before he pressed a kiss to your hands. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, I can pack a bag and we can be on the next flight out--"

"No," you cut him off, wincing at your tone. "I'm going alone. There's no need for you to go with me, I'm sure you have some other things to do here. Better things."

There was a slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, gently turning your head to look at him. He took a shuddering breath seeing the tears swimming in your eyes. "What's happening right now, sweetheart? Please. I don't understand what could have brought this on, we had a lovely morning--"

"I thought I could do this," you choked out, finding it difficult to form coherent words without starting to blubber. "I thought I could drown the voices out, not let them get to me but…they're too loud. They're ruthless and vile and they have megaphones and they're right." You shook your head to turn away from him, burying your face between your knees, the all too familiar feeling of shame flooding your system, shrouding over you like an overly weighted blanket. "I'm not strong enough to do this with you. And you deserve someone better than me."

You took your laptop off of Standby, your screen illuminating and showing him the harsh words that had been haunting you since you stupidly decided to check the internet just minutes after he left the house. He began to visibly tense as his eyes scanned the pages seeing all the hateful things literal strangers had to say about your relationship.

"Look we gave it a shot," you tried to tell him, making a motion to get out of the chair which made him put his hands on the armrests, effectively keeping you in place. "But I think it's time to call it. I'm not good for you, and you deserve someone--"

"No." His tone was low and resolute, hands staying firmly on the chair, refusing to let you go anywhere. From a certain perspective, it was a smart enough move, considering that if he let you go right now, you'd probably sprint out the door in the name of doing what you thought would be best for him. Even if it meant ripping your own heart out in the process. "This can't be over already, we've only just begun. The time I've had with you has been extraordinary and I know that if we keep going, it'll get even better. You've made me so happy and--"

"You'll find someone that makes you happier," you dumbly shot back, the sentiment hitting you so hard that the tears finally began to fall. Even the thought of him potentially moving on so quickly after this already had you ready to sob. "Someone stronger. Someone that can handle all of this or hell someone they'll actually like--"

"Those people don't care for my happiness," he said in a rush, tears filling his eyes as well. "No matter what I do, there's always going to be someone hateful that has something to say, and they'll always think they're right. It's so clear that they don't give a damn about what actually makes me happy because if they did, they wouldn't be saying these disgusting lies about you, trying to get into your head."

There was a desperation in his tone that tore at your heart; no part of you wanted to do this. But seeing every single insecurity that you'd had ever since you said yes to being his girlfriend, yes to going to London with him for a few weeks, and generally just yes to spending the next few however months of your life with him, all laid out in print echoed by so many others? You knew he deserved better than this, better than someone that would ultimately have to be hidden away so that these people would stop coming for his throat for his 'poor choices'.

And when you knew that what would be best for the man you ached to give your heart to was to actually tuck your heart away and run, how selfish would it be for you to do the opposite?

The feel of his hands framing your face brought you back to your thoughts, the frantic pleading look on his face robbing you of your breath. "Do you want to leave, Y/N?" You wanted to scream No of course I don't, I want to stay with you. But you found yourself unable to form words. All you could do was shake your head as more tears fell from your eyes.

He pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his arms the second you crossed your hands behind his neck and lifting you out of your seat. He didn't break the kiss until he'd carried you to his bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. Then he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before sinking to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Then don't leave. Stay with me. We'll stay in and stay away from prying eyes so nobody gets to say anything about you, we'll--"

"You shouldn't have to make adjustments in your life for the sake of making me comfortable," you argued. "You should be with someone that can face all of this, not cower in a corner licking her wounds needing to be protected if she so much as gets seen stepping out of your house like some tiny helpless baby animal. You deserve to be with someone you can share everything with, without the worry of people shooting you down just because I'm not pretty enough or tall enough for them. You can have anything and everything you want with a snap of your fingers, I'm sure it won't be that hard to find someone that--"

Tom stopped you from letting out another word, holding you by the back of your head and pulling you to him for a desperate kiss. "I don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't give a fuck what anyone else wants to think about how I choose to spend my life and who I choose to share it with, because I know better. You're enough, you're more than enough. And if a few precautions and adjustments have to be made to make sure they can't get to you, then I'm more than happy to do all that and more.

"Our first night together I told you I just want you. As you are. That I want to make you happy." He rose from his knees, pressing a kiss to your cheek and working his way to your ear. "That I want to satisfy you. Do you remember?" You could only nod, trying and failing not to melt against him as he kissed below your ear. "I'm going to add that list of wants now. I want to make sure you feel safe, with every means I have at my disposal."

He guided you down until your back was flat on the mattress, kissing down your neck as he did so, his lips trailing a path down to just over your heart. You found it near impossible to breathe, finding yourself overwhelmed with how gentle and tender he was handling you.

"I want to love you," he said, meeting your eyes with a look that you could only describe as surrender. "I know you're not ready to hear it yet, but this can't wait anymore. You need to hear it. You need to know that the only way for me to actually have everything that I want is if I get to share everything I have with you. I need you to know that your leaving would rip my heart out." He made his way back up, stopping when your faces were mere inches apart. "I need you to know who you'd be leaving." He brushed his lips across yours in a featherlight kiss. "You would be leaving a man so completely, so desperately in love with you."

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was inaudibly mouthing his name, the sentiment you tried to stomp down just a little over a week ago fighting its way back up to the surface. Practically shouting from the back of your throat.

"I love you," he breathed out. "Please, sweetheart. Don't do this. Don't leave. Whatever you want, whatever you need so that we can make this work, we'll find our way through this together just please…I'm begging you don't tell me that what you want is to rid yourself of me--"

"That's the last thing I want," you managed to choke out, your eyes stinging with even more tears. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mustering every ounce of strength you had left to finally say the sentiment you prematurely blurted out when he first popped up at your house. "I love you, too."

You woke up the next morning the same way you'd been ever since you and Tom first got together, his arm wrapped around you, the butterflies fluttering violently in your stomach from how he held your body against his without a stitch of clothing between you two, along with the tender kisses he peppered along your shoulder. It was a routine you'd not only found yourself getting comfortable with, but you were looking forward to it whenever you felt yourself rousing from sleep.

And that part scared the living daylights out of you.

Relationships? Routines? Your mind wandering to that place that you said you never dared think about in the context of being in any kind of relationship again, because the last time you did, the rug got pulled out from under you and threw your life and the future you envisioned into a blender?

You swore to yourself that day all those years ago that you were never going to let yourself get this comfortable. That you would always have your safety measures in place so that you never had to worry about having to scramble your way back up to your feet without any sense of direction.

And you did. You had your measures. You had your walls up. You put your heart under lock and key and said you'd never give it to someone again. Yet here you were, basically opening the chest and telling Tom that it was right there for the taking.

A chest you couldn't close again even if you tried. Even if you wanted to.

The feel of his lips pressing a kiss between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a tiny whimper, making him smile and hum against your skin. "Good morning, goddess."

You were growing concerningly comfortable with that, too.

He moved you until you were lying with your back flat on the mattress, brushing his nose across yours as he gave you a contented smile. "I love you."

You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your own face hearing the words. "Hmm…careful, you keep talking like that I might get used to it."

He laid his lips on yours, giving you a tender kiss as he gently ran his hand down the side of your body before stopping at your hip, his thumb stroking your skin. "I want you to get used to it, because I'll be saying it a lot from now on." His lips traced a line down to the base of your throat. "I love you," he murmured against your skin repeatedly as he kissed along your collarbone.

"I love you, too," you whimpered as he kissed his way down to your stomach, his shaky exhale warming your skin even more. You placed your hand on his shoulder, leading him to refocus his attention to kissing his way up your arm. "I really stepped on the ledge yesterday…" you trailed off, struggling to take a deep breath as you tried to find the words, ultimately settling on the simplest ones. You weren't likely to find better words anyways. "Thank you for talking me off of it."

He took his time kissing his way back up to your lips, never breaking eye contact. "Always, my love." The new endearment, paired with the way he tenderly kissed your lips, had your head spinning. "I'm going out to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in an hour. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Those words had you stirring, making a motion to sit up on the bed. "What? No, you don't need to do that, you'll get papped. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed, I'll do it."

"If you go out, they'll photograph you, too," he argued. "Pictures of us are still fresh on their minds, which means these vultures are still very much on the lookout for you out and about, waiting to take pictures in hopes of selling them to the sleaziest gossip sites. Give it a week, maybe two, and they'll refocus their attention on someone else. Them and the internet."

You slumped back into the bed with a soft thud, surrendering to the fact that unfortunately, the logic made sense. You needed a good few days to let your face and those photos fade into relative irrelevancy. "You probably need your team to spin some story on why we were seen together, too," you sighed, the discomfort of having to let the wheels turn in your head before you've even had a bite of food or a sip of coffee starting to make you skittish. "I mean, the saying goes that we can't put the genie back in the bottle, but what if it isn't fully out yet? We still have a chance to…I don't know, mitigate the situation?"

Tom rested his forehead against yours, letting out a deep sigh as he laid back down on the bed as well, pulling you into his arms so that your head rested on his chest. "One day it won't be this toxic."

His words had you giggling, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. "It's adorable that you think that, but no. But one day maybe the voices of those who would genuinely just be happy for you would be louder than these snakes in the pit with their megaphones. And maybe one day I'll be strong enough to not give a fuck about any of it."

He tightened his hold on you, arms snaking around your body in an embrace that had you falling even more into that dangerous place of way too damn comfortable. "Until then I'm going to do what I can to keep you safe. It'll only be a few weeks at most. Maybe less if we're lucky and someone causes a scandal." He pressed numerous soft kisses to the tip of your nose, breaking out into a smile when his attentions caused you to let out a soft giggle. "For now, I get to keep you in the house. All to myself." His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he rolled you on to your back, rasping the next words, "Like my own beautiful brilliant little captive."

"A very willing captive," you shot back, once again going breathless when he started kissing you all over your neck and chest. "Be careful out there? Don't let them get a reaction out of you, no matter what they ask. Or what they say about me."

"I will," he mumbled, humming against your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your body, nipping at your waist before pulling away. He made his way to his closet, shooting a playful knowing glance at you when he saw how you propped yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the view. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he chuckled, throwing on his usual running gear of a black t-shirt with the Legendary logo and black shorts that were definitely a size too small with how the garment hugged and accentuated his hips and upper thighs. Not to mention how those shorts made it all too obvious that your boyfriend happily and proudly chooses neither when it came to the age-old debate of boxers or briefs.

He walked back toward the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over you to capture your lips in a heated kiss, as if it had been weeks since he'd done it last rather than mere minutes. His hand freely roamed your side, lightly grasping at your hips while he slowly laid you back down flat on the bed. Once he had, he broke the kiss to press his lips to the tip of your nose, then to your forehead.

"I'll wake you when I'm back home. Promise me you won't check on those pages again. None of them deserve our time, or our emotions. I love you, goddess."

"I promise. I love you, too."

A/N: Welcome to the second part of the 'said it first' arc! This would probably be the angstiest moment in their entire relationship and precious bf meow meow really answered her "I'm leaving" with "No ur not I love u 🥺" and we love him for it your honor

Three more parts to this arc and hopefully I can pull myself out of playing my lil games long enough to actually get to writing any of the pieces in my rotation 😅🫡

Here's a gif for everyone who reads 'til the end of the post…this be what the blorbos were like in that last scene:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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ronnykins-needshelp · 26 days ago

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Ok, ok SO hear me out. Ive been reading a bunch of fics where theres a chat feature with system and i think its funny as fuck so i will proceed to make my own as i take a break from my long fic [ yes its only been two chapter, yes i already made some of it but hear me out i had to charaterize people THAT WERE NEVER IN THE BOOK so i was exhausted from it ]. So here's my brain dump before i do.

After shenqinqiu goes through the shitshow that was meng mos arc nightmares and nearly having a CRASH-OUT before the white sheep came to his resque, the system decides to give him mercy and give him a chat feature. This makes him realize that user two meant that there was a user one, which he somehow missed. So he goes to find out that the rat man is airplane despite his many rants. hes happy that theirs another transmigrator HOWEVER with this, they also find out that others have it.

Unfortunately, they're the only ones whose chat messages gets leaked. So not only does their identity get revealed, the others chat about it to themselves BC THEY CAN DO THAT!!!!!

Luo binghe somehow gains confidence through cyberbully towards ming fan and they end up being frienimies, and they end up making a group chat with ning yingying [ and eventually liu mingyan once shizun mentions her and stuff ] and he spends 90% of the time fawning over his shizun. He always complains about how his shizun EXPECTS HIM to have a harem but oh well, at least he wont know his advances until they marry [ idea curtesy of Ning yingying ].

mobei jun makes quick work of befriending Sha Hualing in order to take advice to handle his human, who is apparently very FERAL when chatting privately [ its a turn on for him. ] sha hualing is helpful in her own way though its not very good… due to her being ANOTHER DEMON.

Oh and yes the others can dm shen yuan and shang qinghua and no it is not leaked.

Why have the others not mentioned that they could see cumplanes messages? BC THEIR TOO FUNNY/INFORMATIONAL TO GIVE IT AWAY.

Everyone has their reasons. Most of the peak lords for their amusement. Liu qingge bc he doesnt know how to get rid of the dam thing, plus he MUST know what his younger brother [ yes im still pushing the elder brother agenda, sue me ] is doing in order to protect him from without a cure. Yue Qingyuan to keep tabs. Mu qingfang to find out the rare herbs aswell as the beast peak lord except its for – you guessed it – beasts.

Idk if im going to do multiple chapters so ill just see where it takes me. Honestly i might have it as a crack fic that i can go back t constantly for breaks.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #fanfic #mxtx #mxtx svsss #luo binghe #yue qingyuan #crack fic #scum villian self saving system #system DID do it on purpose but shuuu they don't need to know that

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strrynourry · 1 month ago

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Wallflower by strrynourry

LH // university au // angst/hurt // addiction // happy ending

rating: M // pov: first person alternating

read on ao3 or wattpad:

word count: 35k [as of now] → work in progress. updates fri. 2 p.m. [est] // follow updates under #strrynourry

“You know I hate parties,” I said, glancing between Niall and Zayn, my voice quieter than before. “But I’ll go… because of him.” Louis was the only thing I could think about—pulling at every corner of my mind like gravity. I needed to be near him, even just for a moment. I needed a taste of whatever it was he did to me.

Harry is a sophomore in college, focused, reserved, and perfectly content with his small circle of friends—Niall and Zayn. He keeps his head down, prioritizing studies over socializing, and avoids the shitshow of college parties like the plague. He’s never seen the appeal of loud music, crowded rooms, and drunken conversations that lead nowhere. Louis, on the other hand, is a junior and the complete opposite. Charismatic, sharp-witted, and effortlessly charming, he’s the kind of person who thrives in social settings. His presence at a party isn’t just expected—it’s anticipated. Everyone knows Louis. He’s the one who keeps the energy alive, the guy who somehow manages to know everyone in the room and makes them feel like they belong. Their paths shouldn’t cross. Harry isn’t the type to get caught up in Louis’ world, and Louis has no reason to notice someone as quiet and reserved as Harry. Fate forces them into each other’s orbit, and suddenly, the lines between their separate worlds start to blur.

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theallianceofcelestials · 3 months ago

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Hi, so i've been having this question for a good while now.

How would the SEA family react to Ruin?

I imagine them trowing questions like:

What do you mean that's Sun and Moon AT THE SAME TIME, BUT HE IS ALSO NOT EXACLTY THEM!?

What do you mean HE'S ALSO A ALTERNATIVE VERSION OF ECLIPSE!?

What do you mean this animatronic destroyed 5000+ in the blink of a eye?! HOW WAS HE ABLE TO DO THAT?! (This one more probaly came from Eclipse)

Why is he british!? (More like Bloodmoon or Lunar asking what's that funny accent he has)

And how is he possible?! wait- there's more like him?!

You know ,the usual stuff.

Btw, i really like and aprecciate your work and enjoy your writing, it's really good.

Someone asked this question before you, somhere's Part 1

They'd be freaked out by his body count. When they realise there were probably people who were celestials like them in those dimensions, they'd be pissed.

Eclipse would still ask him about the hows and whys. He understands hating the humans that created you, and he wouldn't have minded if it was just his creator Ruin destroyed. But all these other people?

He may punch him in the face, but no worries about that, because I think Ruin is used to that by this point. He sure wasn't bothered by all that scorn and abuse on the surface before, so he won't let anything slip now either.

Ruin will have the easier time developing a friendly relationship with: Eclipse, Sun, Killcode and Solar Flare

While he may struggle with: Lunar, Bloodmoon and Moon

This wouldn't mean that he's trusted. Not at first though. Trust would be slow, helped greatly when it's revealed to them he's trying.

They also already know thanks to Canon he's the one who brought Canon Eclipse back, but they'd still ask him why, despite knowing the answer

Killcode would also make him stand up, because by god he's sensing a potential dad-friend and he's not going to let Ruin get away with rebuilding Eclipse and not taking responsibility for him. Parenting an Eclipse is great and rewarding! You'll see! Ruin stop trying to run away and get back here! You may be fast but I'm faster!

Sun and Moon would at times be the bad cop and the good cop with him. They would be the ones monitoring most of his interactions with the 'kids', because KC is too busy trying to get him to be the dad that stepped up if Canon KC didn't. They also just want to see that shitshow go down while eating popcorn. Also they're amused by the whole nice and mean one act. They deserve to do a bit of evil as a treat 💅

Bloodmoon would threaten eating him. They might even chomp down on him sometimes to prove they're 'serious'. They aren't, but they greatly enjoy bullying the funny accentman. He's amusing and gratifyingly expressive.

Solar Flare is just silently staring at him, making him uncomfortable. It's their way of trying to bond with a stranger. They're testing the waters.

Lunar would demand uppies after he got to know Ruin a bit more, to see if he gives great uppies. Being a daycare attendant, he probably does, so that's satisfying. After that the next test is playing a game together.

And the accent is just something everyone's trying to figure out the logistics behind. Like what do you mean two USA accents made a British one somehow?? If Moon's going to cut him open for something, it's that.

Eclipse secretely really likes it though, cuz it makes him more soft-spoken and he prefers that over loudness. And he has more than enough loud people in his life

(Also thanks! I'm really happy you enjoy my writing! :> )

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buoyantsaturn · 4 months ago

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read my friends' fics from 2024 or else

The Father Dilemma by ember @gatesofember from the wild west au series

A year after deciding to stay permanently, Nico di Angelo has long since settled into Ladon Creek. He has two bothersome but loyal housemates, a caring community of friends, and a loving partner. His days have never been so peaceful and he never thought he’d feel so happy. But his calm, blissful life is thrown into disarray when he learns some truly sinister news: Will’s father is coming to visit. [T, 6,841, 2/7]

FAR GALAXIES by rosy @rosyredlipstick

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her PADD from her coat, slow enough that Nico only slightly twitched. Jason’s transmission was loaded up on the screen—at the bottom, their signature tag was spelled out. “Guardians of the Galaxy. That supposed to be a joke?” “More like an aspiration,” Jason said. - Space, the final frontier. Or whatever. [E, 365,994, 14/14]

three-in-one soap by emi @thelordofshrimp

Austin glared at his sister. “Will can’t lie, genius. He says that since he became head counselor, any shower that lasts more than three minutes gets interrupted by someone needing his help.” “That’s… crazy.” Nico considered the number of showers he’d taken even in his short time at camp and imagined if even half of them had been interrupted. “It is,” Jerry agreed. “Not like there’s much we can do about it, though.” “You can always do something about it.” Nico sat up. “There has to be something.” “Not unless you can somehow keep the whole camp safe at once.” [G, 5,798, 4/4]

I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say by ethan @ethannku

Rather than dignifying Will’s likely insult with a response, Nico took another deep inhale, then tipped his head back to blow the smoke straight up into the air. When he tipped his head to the side, he found that Will was still watching him, his eyes cast low, maybe to Nico’s shoulders or neck or mouth-- [T, 8,615]

kiss with a fist is better than none by lori @sunflowersandscreams

Well, if he wanted to play it like that, then Will would meet him halfway. “I meant it. What I said earlier. I would have liked to make peace so we can get over this whole… whatever, but you just had to be an asshole, so never mind, I guess.” Nico looked at him, bored, a distinct lack of an expression on his face. “You think I’d really believe that? That you’d be so courteous, so kind, as to- what, ‘use your hand as an olive branch’? I’m not naïve, Solace.” “I wasn’t saying that you- it’s not like-” Will bit his tongue. “You don’t wanna be nice to each other? Fine. I don’t care. It’s not like it would change much, or that we could change much, at this point.” “Your guilt tripping isn’t going to affect me.” Nico tilted his chin up, angry now. “Maybe I’m fine with being like this? Or maybe it just doesn’t matter as much as you seem to think it does.” ~ Nico and Will have been rivals slash sworn enemies since the beginning of high school, when they both joined the orchestra. Things change, for better or worse. [T, 62,457, 6/8]

Does This Still Count as Solangelo Week if It's July by alfie @lordstormageddidnt

Will likes cuddling with Nico in his sleep. Nico likes cuddling with Will. But Nico does not like waking up in a pool of sweat because his boyfriend is half-sun-god, half-space-heater. [G, 1,232]

never a clean break (no one here to save me) by katherine @yrbeecharmer from the exes au series

It’s been a year and a half since Aphrodite’s shitshow, since they finally processed the things they never had and agreed to move on, and how many times has Will made it clear they’re fine now? Not that they really talk about it in so many words anymore, but that’s because they shouldn’t have to. They’re friends. Not close ones, but friends. And Nico has a boyfriend. So why on earth is he calling Will, right now, to do this? [M, 12,444]

a sweet tooth for you series by becca @thebhorror

Nico works in a bakery and is determined to make Will fall in love with him his baked goods [G, 23,447]

& if you stay too long it will kill you marble @marbleheavy

As he looked up and stared at the sky, his thoughts seemed to fall through the grates of the fire escape. He could pretend that the flickering light from the planes passing by were stars if he didn’t think too much about it. As if the light pollution hadn’t swallowed the whole of his visible universe. He took a drag from the cigarette and sighed, dropping his gaze back ahead. [T, 1,232]

bulls and blood by allison @rainnows

Cowboys were not Nico’s type. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself for the better part of two hours, propped up as he was against a fence bordering the arena, where he definitely wasn’t allowed to be, photographer’s pass around his neck or not. [T, 1,213]

#fic rec #solangelo #ember #rosy #emi #ethan #lori #alfie #katherine #becca #marble #allison

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rahuratna · 9 months ago

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Ikemen Kaisen

Chapter 2: Come into my Parlour

Cross posted!

Summary: A cursed spirit develops a massive crush on the 7:3 sorcerer while he's on a mission. Trapping him in its unique otome game domain, the spirit soon discovers that its bitten off a lot more than it can chew with this particular jujutsu sorcerer ...

Content: Humour, fluff, crack, otome game satire, Nanami has Rizz with a capital 'R', the first year trio obtaining front row seats to this absolute shitshow.

It had been there, for just a minute. Something tangible that had fled when he was frustratingly close. Nanami blew out a small, exasperated breath and continued his steady evaluation of the crowd before heading back up to the VIP box. Maybe a bird’s eye view might reveal something telling once again. The feeling of uneasiness did not leave him, though. If anything, the sensation of wrongness, of eyes with ill intent tracing over his form, grew stronger. Nanami had not reached the status of Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer without listening to his instincts. Ignoring that inner voice was a surefire way to get killed in this profession.

Yuuji was now seated and making a show of wiping his brow and re-hydrating. The young sorcerer-in-training had done a commendable job of keeping track of the stage. He waved to Nanami when he caught sight of him.

“Nanamin! Do you want some candy floss?”

“I’ll pass, Yuuji. But you can hand over that soda.”

Sipping from the soggy paper straw, Nanami turned to observe their surroundings as Yuuji leant toward him and spoke in quieter tones.

“It’s not Ryo-ri. I’m sure of it. I watched him like a hawk the whole time he was up there. Especially when he called that girl on stage. There was nothing weird going on at all. The cursed energy spike was someone from the audience.”

“Someone or something.” Seeing Yuuji’s concerned look, Nanami shook his head. “If it was a person, I would have found them.”

“Wait, you’re saying it’s a cursed spirit?”

“Likely. The cursed energy was very subtle, definitely sensory in nature. It didn’t seem particularly strong, but raw strength is not always an indication of how dangerous something is.”

“It’s not? That’s not what Gojo-sensei said.”

“With all due respect, Gojo-sensei is the last person you should take your assessment of caution from. The entity, whatever it was, must have picked up that I was searching for it. There’s a level of awareness at work here that should always make one careful. “

Suitably chastised, Yuuji nodded. “Okay, okay, I get it. So what do we do now?”

“There’s something else I should mention too. Since I’ve been down there … I’ve been feeling a sensation of watchfulness. Of something waiting.”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly. “Is … is it …”

“Probably. But I can’t be certain. So, what do you think we should do, Yuuji?”

The boy sat up straighter, eyes taking in the crowd that was now thinning as people made their way back out of the venue.

“I wanted to say, maybe wait for everyone to leave and then search for cursed energy traces … “

“But?”

“But if you sensed something … waiting, then the girl who went on stage is priority, right? Even if we scared off whatever was here tonight, it might be waiting for an opportunity to strike. She could still be in danger.”

Nanami felt that small twinge of pride, yet again.

“Exactly so. She’s currently backstage, meeting with Takashima as part of her supposed package. We’ll place her under surveillance and won’t let her out of our sight until we’ve established that she is at no risk of being targeted.”

“But Nanamin … “ Yuuji still looked worried. “You said that the cursed spirit may be … aware. Intelligent, like those ones we met before. Won’t it just wait until it’s sure we’ve left and then go get her?”

“That’s correct, Yuuji. Which is why our surveillance isn’t just a means to keep her safe. We’re hoping that she baits the spirit out, somehow. The emotion this cursed entity may feed off is the heavy envy that was coming from the audience. That’s probably why it was difficult for us to identify. Spirits are harder to detect when in the overwhelming presence of the very emotions that birth them. Remember that. Away from the crowd, and with a single-minded purpose, it may be much easier for us to track and isolate.”

Yuuji nodded, eyes alight with renewed determination.

“Roger that!”

Nanami and Yuuji hung around the VIP box until the young woman who had been taken backstage to meet Ryo-ri exited. If they hadn’t been paying attention, she would have flown completely under their radar. The flowing, vivid green tresses had obviously been a wig, because her natural hair was short and dark. Her clothes had also disguised her athletic build. Yuuji put her down as a professional stage performer. She had a distinctly disgruntled look on her face, certainly a far cry from the tearful ecstasy she had shown during the concert earlier. Nanami rose, nonchalantly discarding the soda can and gestured to Yuuji to follow.

She was obviously in something of a hurry, her grumpy demeanour translating to a quick, impatient stride. They followed her at a safe distance, watching as she made her way through the conference centre main exit and out into the same street they had walked along earlier. After a short distance, she pulled her phone from her bag and began to text rather aggressively, then took a sharp turn and entered a Seven-Eleven nearby. Yuuji took initiative and popped into the store behind her. As he browsed the shelves, he glanced over her shoulder and saw that she was texting someone from her agency, judging from the symbol in the profile picture. He read the messages for as long as discretion was possible before moving past.

She’s pissed off because Ryo-ri didn’t even bother to meet her after the concert. And it sounds like she’s not too happy with the agency for the arrangement either.

Choosing a random packet of crisps off the shelf, Yuuji glanced out the window to where Nanami stood on the pavement a short distance away. The sorcerer was on a call and a deep frown was marring his brow. Once Yuuji was out in the street, Nanami turned to him with a displeased expression.

“Dang, what did Gojo-sensei do now?”

“How did you – never mind,” Nanami sighed heavily. “He’s received an urgent summons from Kyoto. He was supposed to be overseeing a training exercise for Fushiguro and Kugisaki. They’ll be joining us on our mission instead.”

“Oh! I mean, the more people, the better right? They’re both strong – wait. I see what this is,” Yuuji grinned. “He’s got you for babysitting duty.”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched.

“I’m not denying that those two are capable students. They’ll be a help, no doubt. And as much as I prefer to keep to a specific course of action, I suppose this is unavoidable. Having said that, I can’t abandon our current target.”

The young woman they were tailing had now stepped out of the store and had resumed her walk. Yuuji nodded sharply.

“Understood, Nanamin. I’ll head to the station to pick up Kugisaki and Fushiguro.”

“You remember the tracking app we installed on our phones? I’m turning mine on right now. Use it to find my location once they’re with you.”

“Right!”

Now this. This was heavenly.

Fuck Ryo-ri. A sad, little boy like that, shaking his crotch at every other bitch on stage? What could he possibly offer? No, no, no. I won’t settle for that. How could I be so … blind. This. This is what it’s all about.

Now, just look. Here, in his natural habitat, we see an absolute S-tier, top class, prime specimen of a man. Look. Just look.

From the moment he turned to face me in the crowd, I knew. It must be fate. That chiselled face, that aristocratic nose, that firm mouth and that chin. Oh, that beautiful strong chin, just waiting for a feminine finger to trace its outline. Clean-shaven, too. Just imagine what he looks like, shaving in the morning. Standing at his sink in his vest and underwear, running the blade along his throat …

Oh my. I mustn’t get too excited, oh no. Earlier, I tried to measure how broad his shoulders are and I’m sure he sensed me. Heehee. Speaking of which … sigh. When he shrugged off that coat a short while ago …

That. Ass.

Goddamn. Praise the celestial craftsman who moulded those exquisite cheeks. Wasn’t there a poem like that? Where did I hear it before? Strange. Something about ‘did he who make the lamb make thee?’ Oh! That poem.

Well, this tiger can bite me any old time. So tall, too. And his hair … like spun gold. So perfect. Look how it moves as he walks. It’s like every time he takes a step, the cherubs of the wind are blowing each strand gently back into place. This is … a real man. His essence is all man. The way he was taking charge of that pink-haired boy and looking after him too, ohhhh. Daddy material, absolutely so.

And his walk! Ohhhhhh. His walk! So confident. I just know he’s big down th - wait. I mustn’t let my focus slip. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. There’s no better opportunity than this! Now, where did I put that phone … here it is!

Oi, bitch, pick up.

Once Yuuji had left, Nanami had resumed the surveillance on the young agency employee. She was certainly putting in the miles today and her path had taken her away from the main thoroughfares to a less populated area downtown. Here, there were no fancy coffee shops and brightly lit boutiques. Most of the stores didn’t even put out signs to advertise their wares. Many of them were situated on the bottom floor or basement level of run-down apartment blocks. Nanami noticed that the woman’s pace had slowed somewhat, and that she would sometimes check her phone before moving on.

Is she looking for directions? Where to?

The agency she belonged to was nowhere in the vicinity and she looked like she was a little unfamiliar with this area, so she was definitely not going home.

Even though the evening was chilly, the coat Nanami wore was a little too heavy for such prolonged walking, so he shrugged it off and slung it over his arm. The moment he did, something began to feel … off. There it was again, that eerie sensation of being watched. Of alien eyes crawling over his form. Was the cursed spirit here already? That certainly hadn’t taken very long. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, allowing his awareness to filter into his surroundings. It was something he had learned in his younger days as a sorcerer, this release of tension before expecting an attack. It helped one be more reactive to danger from any direction.

And then, the woman’s phone rang. She answered hastily, irritation colouring her tone. Nanami stepped into a narrow alleyway nearby, close enough to listen in.

“Hi, yes, it’s me. I’m … yes, I’m on my way. Excuse me, but are the directions you gave correct? It’s just, I’m somewhere downtown, and I don’t really know any reputable agencies in this area. No, no, I’m not … listen. Yes, I’m interested in the audition, but I – oh. Well, all right then, I’ll be there shortly.”

An audition? Here?

Nanami was instantly on high alert. Something was very wrong. Even if she was contacted for an audition, this area was not likely to house some kind of performance art studio. Furthermore, the disappearances of the other girls had been kept under wraps by law enforcement and their own agencies, to prevent public panic. So she wouldn’t be aware of the danger she was in.

She’s been lured here. But by whom? Is this really a cursed spirit? Is it advanced enough to put into motion a plan like this? That would make it –

Nanami had just managed to rip the blade from its holster underneath his sweater before the domain expansion engulfed him and the woman, a shockingly subtle rush of cursed energy that barely rippled the surface of reality. There was no mistaking what it was, however. If the spirit did not possess high levels of cursed energy, like he had deduced earlier, then maybe he could break through with sheer brute force. He raised his blade, energy flaring to life in powerful currents beneath his skin, bringing it down in a heavy, measured slash.

The borders of the domain rippled before annealing in softly glowing edges. Nanami dashed forward, skidding to a halt beside the unconscious form of the young performer. He took up a defensive stance, eyes narrowing as he took in their surroundings.

“Show yourself.”

The voice that answered was surprisingly young and girlish, a slight lisp accenting certain words.

“You want to see me?”

“This is your domain. You’ll have to show yourself sooner or later.”

“Welll … all right then. If you ask like that.”

A form stepped from the shadows. Shadows that had not been present a short while ago.

“Welcome. I – “

Before the spirit could finish its sentence, Nanami had swung his sword in a horizontal arc, slicing the apparition in two.

“Who do you think you’re dealing with? Show yourself. I won’t be fooled by illusions.”

There was a short period of silence. The fabricated walls of the domain around them began to shudder, changing form. Nanami frowned as he picked up the sensory feedback from all around him. As he thought, this spirit was certainly driven by strong, uncontrolled emotion. His attack had made it … happy? And why was the domain itself so resilient, considering that this spirit definitely did not have a great deal of raw cursed energy and power? Where was it drawing its strength from?

He pushed one foot out, nudging into the slumped form of the young woman lying on the ground beside him. He had to keep track of her if a fight was on the cards. Instantly, the emotions reflecting from the domain around him changed to something distinctly less … pleasant.

“What is she to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That girl. There, on the ground. What is she to you?”

“I’m not sure I understand your question. All you need to know is that I will not let any harm come to civilians.”

“Oho. So that’s it. You are indeed an … upright man.”

Nanami had encountered a great many cursed spirits in his time, but there was something about the sibilance of those last words that made his hair stand on end. The domain was rapidly changing now, in a twisting, disconcerting manner that was dizzying to watch.

“First, let’s take things to a more … intimate setting. This place feels so exposed.”

Gritting his teeth, Nanami felt his legs root themselves to the spot, entirely not within his control. Something large and dark was rushing toward him and he leaned back, flicking his sword out in a fine, controlled line along the wall of the alleyway behind him. It was all he had time for before weightlessness took his limbs and darkness claimed his mind.

“Guess I’m stuck with you two goons. As always.”

Nobara unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a large bite. Beside her, Megumi scowled.

“I’m the one who should be saying that.”

“I said it first, buttface.”

“Your maturity never fails to amaze me.”

Yuuji looked up from his phone and offered a warm grin.

“Let’s hurry guys. Nanamin’s signal hasn’t moved for a while now, so he must be staking out already.”

Nobara sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road. But, hey! Why do you always get to go with Nanami-sensei? He’s so cool and responsible, unlike some teachers.”

They had already passed the Seven-Eleven where Nobara had purchased her chocolate for a quick snack. They were now making their way to the spot downtown where Nanami’s signal on the app blinked in stationary silence. Yuuji’s grin turned positively devilish as he turned to the brown-haired girl who strode quickly beside him.

“I mean, I didn’t choose Nanamin. Gojo-sensei assigned me to him. But yeah, going on missions with him definitely has its perks.”

He left the statement hanging, prompting Nobara to squint suspiciously at him.

“Eh? What kind of perks are we talking about?”

“You know the details of the mission right?”

Megumi frowned. “Of course we know. There’s some idol whose fans are disappearing. And the ones hired to get on stage with him are being targeted. What’s your point, Itadori?”

“Oh, just … I got to go to the concert and vibe for a bit. Nanamin got us VIP pass tickets, so we were up in the special box. And – “

“Now, just one minute,” Nobara’s expression had turned rather frightening. “You attended the actual concert?”

“Hell yeah. And I got lots of souvenirs and merch. Nanamin gave me an allowance, like always. I mean, it’s not like we were just having fun. I had to monitor Ryo-ri and talk to people. You know, network, just in case. For anything suspicious. Oh, and we went to Forty-two West – “

“The grill place?” Megumi interrupted, his own face morphing into something murderous. “The famous one that got all those five-star reviews?”

“Yeah! The same. Nanamin said we had to go because it gave us a good view of the stage set-up. But I’m not complaining. That trio of chocolate dessert was –“

Yuuji realised he had gone a step too far when his collar was roughly grabbed from both sides by his irate classmates. Nobara was fuming.

“You’re winin’ and dinin’ with Nanami-sensei while we’re trudging around the shittiest areas of Tokyo eating instant ramen that Gojo-sensei makes us buy ourselves?

“Even my shikigami get treated better.”

“Oi, oi, it’s not my fault Nanamin prefers the finer things – “

“Well then, I’m gonna put in a request for next time. I’ll make you stay with Gojo while Nanami-sensei takes me to the best nail salon and all those cute boutiques. And feeds me, too.”

“Now you’re making yourself sound like one of my shikigami.”

“Guys.”

The flat urgency in Yuuji’s tone brought them out of their small spat. They had arrived near the narrow alleyway where Nanami had encountered the cursed spirit earlier. Megumi and Nobara were instantly on alert, the traces of cursed energy subtle, but unmistakeable. And even if they hadn’t detected that, the phone with a shattered screen on the pavement was enough to give them pause. Yuuji gingerly picked it up, examining it from all angles. This definitely wasn’t Nanami’s phone. The small stickers looked familiar, though, and his eyes widened.

“This is that girl’s phone. The performer who went on stage with Ryo-ri!”

Megumi gritted his teeth. “So they were both attacked?”

“Looks like it.”

Nobara began to do a small circuit of the area, peering into the alley with close attention.

“Hey. Check this out.”

The two boys came to crouch beside her.

“What’s that?”

“This damage has traces of cursed energy, but I think it’s Nanami’s. Look at the marks here.”

Yuuji drew in a quick breath.

“The way those bottles and boxes are cut … “

“Yeah. They’re divided in a seven-three ratio. He’s letting us know he was still alive and maybe mobile when the curse took him.”

Megumi’s brow darkened.

“If this cursed spirit was powerful enough to capture Nanami, then shouldn’t we call for back-up?”

Yuuji stood abruptly.

“There’s no time. If we wait for back-up to arrive … I have no idea what could happen in the meantime. We’ve got to go in and do what we can. Isn’t that what sorcerers' have to do, even when they’re lacking in numbers and experience?”

Nobara nodded firmly. “For once, I agree with Itadori.”

Megumi sighed and straightened. “You’re right. But I think you’ve both missed something important.”

“Eh?”

“Itadori, how have you been tracking Nanami all this time?”

“What? By the app, obviously.”

“And you think a spirit or curse user, strong and smart enough to take them both, would just let you track Nanami’s phone?”

“Oh … “

Nobara hissed out a frustrated breath. “It wants to lure us in, huh?”

“If it knew Itadori was with Nanami, then that’s possible. I’m gonna send a message to Gojo just in case, and then we head in.”

This is so exciting! Now that the bitch is out of the way, I can focus on what’s important. That kid is on his way because of hot stuff’s phone tracker, but wait, wait … I didn’t expect two more to be with him. Hmmm. That’s fine. It makes no difference. Once they enter my domain, they’ll have no choice but to follow the rules. And maybe this handsome knight in shining armour will be more … receptive to my requests when they are present. Hahahahaha. How sweet it will be!

How sweet, yes, yes. Even sweeter? I get to finally see his eye colour when he wakes up! He was wearing those shades the whole time, but now … whoops! I’ve stolen them.

Hmm. Hmm. Oh, his hair! It’s so soft! I can’t … oh, this little undercut is so lovely. So cute. A jujutsu sorcerer, huh? Scarrrry. Hehe. But that wouldn’t make me change my mind at all. Oh no. It’s worth it. This power will be just what I need. He’ll be just what I need, forever and ever.

A powerful sorcerer like this … wait. Wait. Imagine what he’s built like? Oh, oh, he just gets even better. Imagine the definition he has under all that – he’s waking up! He’s opening his eyes! They’re … oh.

Oh.

Beautiful. Oh, wow. They’re upturned, just a little at the ends and, and, they’re hazel? Qwjecknblaargh …. Focus! He’s awake! I must not pass out from his magnetic stare. Breathe.

When Nanami came to, it was not in a setting he had expected. He was lying next to a lake, on a thick picnic blanket, a picturesque sunset adorning the horizon. He was instantly on high alert, reaching for his sword which, predictably, wasn’t there.

“Oh, come now. You won’t be needing that. I’m not going to harm you.”

That breathy, girlish voice sounded somewhere behind him and he spun around, bending his knees, muscles taut and ready to react. The cursed spirit had finally taken on a more tangible form. A woman’s form, quite short and delicately built, chestnut hair falling in long cascades on either side of its face. It wore a pastel pink shift dress and its feet were bare. The most telling features were the eyes. There were no eyes. Just a shadowed region, beneath straight brown bangs.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, huh? All right then. I want you.”

Nanami, sensing no immediate violent intent, straightened, but kept his senses alert.

“If you mean my life, please don’t assume that it’ll come easily.”

The spirit giggled.

“You’re so silly! No, no. No, no, no, no. Not at all. This is my domain, as you can see.”

“I gathered that much. Where’s the woman from earlier? What have you done with her?”

There was a distinct pout on the spirit’s face. It sighed petulantly.

“I thought you might ask that. Here.”

It waved a hand and a small window appeared in mid-air. It expanded until the ‘room’ beyond became visible. The stage performer, still unconscious, reclined in a large chair in a dingy space with dust covers over the furniture and the blinds drawn.

“Go on. If you reach through, you can touch her. That way you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Stepping forward carefully, keeping the spirit in the periphery of his vision, Nanami placed his hand through the shimmering window. His fingers came into contact with the inert warmth of the girl’s wrist. There was a steady pulse there. He withdrew his hand and turned to the spirit.

“All right. I’ve confirmed that the civilian is safe. You can tell me right now what you plan to do.”

The spirit smiled coyly and brought something out of its ‘pocket’. It stroked a finger over the sleek, dark cover of Nanami’s phone.

“Ah, but it’s no fun if I don’t have help with my plans. So, I’ve managed to get a hold of this. Your dear little student and his friends are on their way to search for you. I’ve guided them helpfully into my domain. I think things will be more entertaining when they get here.”

Nanami gritted his teeth, but paused, choosing his words carefully. This spirit seemed to be fond of conversation. Maybe even willing to be distracted by it.

“The students have nothing to do with this. You said you wanted me. Well, here I am, and I’m certainly not going anywhere. I’m aware that domains like this one have rules. Why don’t you leave them out of it and enlighten me.”

The spirit gave another delighted laugh.

“Oh, you’re just … wonderful. As I thought. No, I won’t let them go. But I will tell you the rules. Such fun rules too! Maybe you’ll even learn to like them. I need you to play a game with me. Nothing violent, of course, or very physical. Well, maybe a little physical.” There was that spine-chilling giggle again. “Your students are even allowed to participate and help you along! Precious little helpers, just for you. The game is all about choices. I’m going to present you with scenarios, just some harmless make-belief, you understand? You have to play the role I choose for you, and then make the correct choices. Choosing options will eventually get you to the next scenario. And every correct choice gives me a massive energy boost. That is the nature of the game in my domain. But beware! Making the incorrect choices, or attempting violence against me, will alter the next scenario. If you keep making incorrect choices, you’ll end up with a bad ending. And a bad ending means …”

The spirit snapped its fingers and the window to the dark room beyond grew wider. Nanami clenched his fists. The girl from earlier was not the only occupant. At least five other dark shapes lay in various poses on the uncovered items of furniture around the room. The other abductees.

“They’re also under my control, you see. And for every bad ending you get, one of them goes poof! But don’t worry, I’m kind. I won’t harm your students in that way.”

Nanami turned slowly back to the spirit.

Kind?

As unfathomable as it sounded, there was a tone of sincerity, almost warmth, in the spirit’s voice. As if it really, really believed that killing others, but not Nanami’s students, was an act of kindness. As long as he had been in the business of exorcising spirits, Nanami had developed a certain instinct about how to deal with specific types of curses. A sort of unerring sixth sense about how to deal maximum damage when handling them; getting to the heart of their true nature through their weaknesses. Something, perhaps his own innate technique, was telling him that there was an exploitable crack in the armour here.

“I see. That is kind of you.”

The spirit immediately beamed, for all it didn’t have eyes to express emotion with. The dark window disappeared, and the sunset took on an even rosier hue.

“I knew you’d see things clearly!”

“Tell me more about this game. Most importantly, what happens when the game ends?”

“Don’t worry about the students. They’ll be safe and wake up somewhere. If you don’t get any bad endings, all the civilians will be returned safely too. But they won’t remember anything that happened to them.”

“And me?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Will that be a problem?”

Nanami considered for a moment before shaking his head firmly.

“No. I don’t care much what happens to me. As long as you give me a binding vow, as we sorcerer’s call it, that you’ll let them go when the time comes.”

The spirit’s smile grew impossibly broad, and it let out a small, dreamy sigh.

“You’re … really something, Mister Sorcerer. Or should I say, Nanamin. I checked your student’s chat with you and that’s such a cute nickname!”

Nanami twitched slightly at the moniker, but did not react otherwise.

“Call me whatever you want. But please make that vow.”

“Of course! Anything for you.”

Stretching one hand out, the spirit waggled its fingers. Cautiously, Nanami held out his hand and they grasped each other by the wrist. The spirit was fully corporeal, at least in its domain, the flesh beneath his fingers firm and human-like. A shudder seemed to pass through the spirit as he made contact. They spoke the words of their contract and, within the confines of this domain, those terms were made binding. Nanami let go and stepped back.

“All right. Now will you give me some information as to the nature of these game scenarios?”

“You mean you haven’t guessed already?”

“No, I’m quite at a loss as to what they could be.”

The spirit clapped its hands and laughed.

“Why, they’ll be romantic, of course!”

“… Romantic?”

“Yes! A truly tingling tale of true love and fated lovers. The universe may conspire mischievously to keep them apart, but their honest, raw emotions will prevail over all! At least, as long as you get the good ending.”

Nanami was silent for a bit. He seemed to be thinking deeply, but in reality, this information had completely thrown him. If he understood correctly, this spirit wanted him to perform some kind of … romantic roleplay with it? Had he been mistaken? He had been operating under the assumption that this spirit had be born of the envy and resentment felt by the idol’s audience, but what was this all about then? It couldn’t be. But then again, even the most experienced sorcerers had come up, eventually, against spirits that defied their existing knowledge and instincts. Taking a breath, Nanami looked up.

“Romantic scenarios. Understood. I’ll play my part accordingly.”

“Eh?” It was the spirit’s turn to be caught off guard. “You agree just like that? I thought you’d at least resist the idea.”

“I have no reason to. If the lives of civilians are at stake, then I, and my students, will perform whatever role you assign to us to the best of our ability.”

Nanami reached up and, in a controlled motion, smoothed back his hair. He lifted his sweater slightly and tugged on the empty harness for his blade, snapping it back into place before neatly rolling up his sleeves. He faced the spirit and folded his arms.

“I am ready for you.”

Something crimson and wet dripped from the spirit’s nose. It hurriedly mopped it up with the back of its wrist.

“Ah, er, well. Let me prepare a few things and I will … be back soon.”

The window behind it opened and it scurried through. Nanami raised an eyebrow.

Was that blush part of the act?

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