#but I feel like people get way too intense
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close to you | l.n
summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.
warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there
jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍
masterlist | listen to the playlist
before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.
to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.
that was until you met him.
the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.
You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.
sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.
but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.
it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.
until pietra confirmed your suspicions.
“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”
you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”
she scoffed, “more like know so,”
“who told you?”
“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”
you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”
but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.
ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.
he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.
and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.
he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.
so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.
he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”
your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“
“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”
how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.
and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.
as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.
he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.
“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”
your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”
he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”
there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.
the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.
he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.
he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.
he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”
you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”
“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.
you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.
you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.
“hey, lando! long time no see!”
you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.
“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.
“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.
“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“
“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”
what was that supposed to mean?
you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“
“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”
you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.
“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.
“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”
lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”
you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”
you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”
“up to your room, huh?”
you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”
“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.
“yeah, we can put it that way.”
he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.
he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.
“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”
he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”
you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.
finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”
he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”
you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”
he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.
the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.
you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”
he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”
you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.
“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”
“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”
you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.
he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.
his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”
your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”
he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”
his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.
“never mind, it’s dumb-“
“lando,”
“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“
you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.
it was too late now, no going back.
you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.
“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“
it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.
you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.
when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.
“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.
“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.
“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”
“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”
you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”
“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”
you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”
“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.
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As someone who is on a mood stabilizer(lamotrigine, in fact) what's happening to the people in these screenshots is not what happens to the average person who has hobbies and fandom-adjacent interests. My meds have never stopped me from loving with my whole chest, instead they simply give me the ability to balance my intense love of things with my real life wants and needs in a healthier way. They give me the ability to stop playing Minecraft before I give myself a migraine, or stop thinking about my OTP long enough that I can make a phone call and actually focus during it, that sort of thing. I don't stop having hyperfixations, I just am able to have one and also have a functional life too.
But these people were clearly missing something important in their lives that's place was filled by a truly unhealthy obsession(or like. had mold poisoning. that person is an outlier dw). They use the word hyperfixation but like, I don't think that's really what's going on. This isn't a bog standard hyperfixation on like Hero Academia or WWDITS, these were obsessions with real living celebrities, and fandoms for celebrities tend to take a dive into conspiratorial thinking and vague cult-y behavior REAL fast. Like, I mean, you can be a fan of a celebrity or band and be normal about it ofc, but I see the conspiratorial thinking pop up a lot more and faster in fandoms for real people. Genuinely combing over every single thing Taylor Swift has ever done or said 500 billion times to compile a dissertation on how she's been subliminally telling her fans for years now that's she's gay and attacking everyone who says otherwise because they don't get it and are just homophobes and like, fucking stalking and threatening her ex-boyfriends and spending every spare moment of every day posting about it with other people who are doing the same....that's not healthy. That's not a normal special interest or hyperfixation. That's clearly someone who is missing something crucial in their lives, be it connection with other people or stable brain chemistry or a community, and filling that hole with something similar but extremely dysfunctional shared with a community of people who are also unhealthily obsessed and thus promote and encourage unhealthy fixations and conspiratorial thinking at the expense of every single part of the rest of their lives. This is on the same level as like, someone's grandma who has always kinda been convinced Elvis' death was faked and in 2016 accidentally fell down the Q Anon rabbit hole, not someone who thinks about their blorbos holding hands before they fall asleep at night and is begging for someone to ask them about the tv show they're from so they can info-dump.
And like yeah fandoms can get you like that too, I've gotten too deep before and fallen in with conspiratorial thinking(almost always around ships tbh) and whenever I get out I feel pretty ashamed of letting that free dopamine and validation roller coaster make me act like someone I'm not, and ofc some fans will stalk and harass the people behind their favorite show or movie for ship validation or write up massive conspiracy boards about how "xyz ship is def endgame trust us see we connected the dots and we will destroy the lives of anyone who disagrees including the people who make the damn show" like I was at Phoenix Comic Con the year Andrew Hussie got mobbed(but not in the mob!! thankfully I didn't get caught up in all that!!), I know how fandoms can be, but overall what's happening in these images isn't something the average fan needs to worry about. If you aren't writing conspiracy boards about celebrities sexualities or an OTP and harassing the celebrities/creators about it, sending death threats to real people who disagree with your theory or like other ships, and spending every spare second of every day posting and talking about them to the point that you literally, physically, don't have time or energy for anything else then you don't need to worry about meds making you not like your favorite webcomic as much anymore. What these people are going through is framed through the lens of fandom, but was far closer to going to a Flat Earth Convention in terms of actual behavior and outcomes.
Your meds shouldn't make you stop liking things entirely. When I think about not liking things I genuinely loved as much as I used to I get a little sad because I miss them, when I think about getting riled up because I believed a show runner was specifically trying to spite ME I feel embarrassed, and I'm glad I stopped doing it and moved on to things that actually make me happy and aren't borderline conspiracy theories. That's the difference. These people aren't sad, they are straight up happy to be out, talking about how it's wild to look at the insane things they believed, and putting focus on how their lives are better now. They clearly don't miss these things because they've moved on. Or, in the case of the BTS person and probably the swifties, they still do like the artist or actor or band, they just aren't Obsessed(tm) with them to a truly unhealthy, world-view altering degree anymore. They can still love these artists and actors without that obsessive love taking over their entire lives.
So nah. The average fan does not need to worry about meds doing this to you. These people were outliers in unhealthy situations that improved when they got the things they were missing. That's almost certainly not what's going to happen to you.
(But also yeah even if you do find your interests changing, that's not always a bad thing. Interests change, we find new things to love all the time, it doesn't invalidate the joy we found and friendships we made to recognize that now we want to post about a different show or movie or comic. That's just how life is, we change.)
And if you don't like the way meds make you feel, you can tell your doctor and stop taking them. There are some meds out there that make me into a zombie that no longer cared about anything at all. And so I stopped taking them, told my doctor, and we worked something else out. Don't be afraid of change, but also, if it sucks hit the bricks.
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Beneath Your Touch
Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader
synopsis : Basically, its your first time. Thats all.
CW : 18+, smut! minors DNI. vaginal fingering | p in v | unprotected sex
an : So, here’s the thing—this is about two people who can't keep their hands off each other (shocking, I know). It’s messy, a little awkward, and honestly, way too intense, but hey, what else would you expect? Anyway, hope you didn’t fall asleep halfway through. Or maybe you did? Who knows. Let me know what you think, or don’t.
As you hear the door creaking open, you jolt up in bed, blinking at the sound. Your mind races—who could it be this early? Only one person comes to mind. It’s Anakin. You rub your eyes groggily, swing your feet to the cold floor, and shuffle to the door.
You open it a crack, just enough to peek through. There he stands, his dark Jedi robes sweeping the ground, looking like something out of a dramatic holodrama. His brows are furrowed, lips set in a deep frown, and his whole posture screams exhaustion. It’s kind of unsettling, seeing him like this when he’s usually so confident, practically oozing swagger.
"Ani..." you whisper, still half-asleep but feeling that familiar rush of affection. "You’re back."
He locks eyes with you, his gaze filled with so much emotion it makes your stomach flip. "Hey, angel," he murmurs, stepping closer. "Sorry for waking you up so early. I just... I couldn’t wait any longer."
Your heart skips a beat, and you don’t even try to hide the smile creeping up. "It’s okay, come in." You grab his hand and pull him inside, shutting the door behind him. "How was the mission?"
He lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Intense. Lots of fighting, lots of stress." He pauses, his blue eyes finding yours again, this time burning with something deeper. "But I’m here now. And I missed you so fucking much."
Before you can even respond, he’s pulling you into a crushing hug. You melt against him, inhaling his familiar scent, that mix of something warm and earthy that’s just so him. "I missed you too," you mumble into his chest. "So much."
You stay like that, wrapped up in each other, and it feels like time stops for a moment. But then you start noticing how every inch of him feels pressed up against you, and your body reacts almost immediately. That familiar warmth starts pooling between your legs, and you find yourself pressing closer, like you can’t get enough of him.
Anakin seems to catch on quickly—of course, he does. His hands start roaming over your body, squeezing and caressing like he’s memorizing every curve all over again. "Fuck, I want you so bad," he groans, his lips finding your neck and nipping at your skin. You can’t help but shiver because damn, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
"I want to make you feel good, baby. Let me worship this beautiful body of yours," he whispers, his voice low and breathy, and you have to bite back a sarcastic Oh, please do, because really, you’re not about to ruin the moment.
He trails soft, teasing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, making you shudder. His large hands slide under your thin nightgown, palming your breasts and brushing his thumbs over your nipples. They harden instantly, and you gasp as he tweaks them gently, sending a shockwave straight to your core.
"Ani..." you whimper, your voice coming out breathy as you arch into his touch. "Please..."
He chuckles against your skin, the sound rumbling through you and making you shiver even more. "Please what, angel? Tell me what you want," he teases, like he doesn’t already know exactly what you’re craving.
You flush a little, suddenly feeling shy despite how desperately you’ve been wanting this. "I... I want you to touch me more. Everywhere," you whisper, meeting his eyes with a half-pleading, half-smoldering look. "I’ve been thinking about your hands on me the whole time you were gone."
Anakin’s grin widens, turning wicked. "Oh, have you now?" he purrs, giving your nipples a firmer pinch that has you gasping. "Don’t worry, I’m going to touch you so good."
He doesn’t waste any more time, pushing your nightgown up and over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. You shiver under his heated gaze, feeling exposed but *so* aroused it doesn’t even matter. His eyes rake over your body like he’s savoring every inch.
"Fucking perfect," he growls, his hands gliding down your sides to your hips. He hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down your legs agonizingly slowly, his mouth following the path. It’s the kind of thing that would make you roll your eyes if it weren’t so hot.
He settles between your thighs, parting your folds with his fingers, and you’re already squirming, hips lifting in anticipation. "Ani, please..." you beg, rocking your hips as if that’ll make him move faster. "I need it. I need you."
He just grins like the smug bastard he can be and swipes his tongue over your clit, making you cry out and fist his hair. "Shh, just relax, baby," he coos, circling the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue like he’s got all the time in the world. "Let me take care of you."
And as much as you want to retort with something sarcastic, you’re too busy being completely undone by the way his mouth feels on you, the pleasure building higher with every flick of his tongue.
He works you open with long, slow licks, occasionally dipping his tongue inside your tight entrance. And wow, the taste of you seems to explode on his tongue because he groans like he’s just tasted the best dessert ever. It’s almost embarrassing how good he is at this—like, did he take a course or something? He grips your thighs, spreading you wider as he delves deeper, gently tongue fucking you, and you can’t help but think, Of course, he’s amazing at this too. Typical.
"That's it, angel," he murmurs against your slick folds. "Let me in. Gonna make you feel so good." His voice is all low and raspy, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
You writhe beneath him, hands fisting the sheets because you genuinely can't handle this. Your brain is short-circuiting, and it's like you’re experiencing this for the first time (well, okay, you kind of are, but still). The intense sensations are so overwhelming it almost feels unfair. Anakin's down there like he’s got nowhere else to be, licking and sucking until you're a complete mess, your hips practically bucking against his face on their own.
"Ani, I... I'm gonna-“ you gasp out, that familiar tingling deep in your core making itself known. And, of course, he just doubles down, sucking on your clit like he’s trying to win some kind of award.
Two fingers slip inside your tight heat, curling just right to stroke your g-spot, and that’s it—you’re done. You come with a sharp cry, your back arching off the bed as your walls clench around his fingers. It’s intense and overwhelming, like he just flipped a switch inside you.
He doesn’t even stop—no, he keeps going, licking at you through your orgasm like he’s trying to make you see stars. By the time he’s done, you’re trembling all over, the overstimulation making you so sensitive you could scream. He presses these soft, tender kisses to your inner thighs before crawling up your body with this stupidly proud grin on his face.
"You did so well, baby," he says, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it’s kind of hot but also kind of mortifying. "Now I’m going to make you come on my cock," he adds, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
He positions himself at your entrance, the thick head nudging against your slick folds, and you suddenly freeze up, feeling a wave of nerves. "Wait, Ani-“
He stops immediately, looking down at you with genuine concern. It’s almost sweet, really. "What’s wrong, angel?"
"I just… It’s my first time..." you admit softly, feeling a little vulnerable and pretty much embarrassed.
His eyes widen, and you can see the realization dawn on his face. “Fuck baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize..." He cups your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb. "We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. I would never hurt you."
And for a moment, it’s almost enough to make you forget he was just eating you out like he was starving a second ago.
"No, I want to," you assure him, reaching down to stroke his length. The nerves are there, sure, but the trust is too. "I trust you, Ani. I want my first time to be with you." And there it is—you said it out loud, hoping it doesn’t sound as awkward as it feels in your head.
He looks relieved, like he was holding his breath. "Okay, we'll go slow. If anything hurts, we stop, alright?" He’s all serious, like this is a contract negotiation, but honestly, it’s kind of sweet.
You nod, heart pounding in your chest, a mix of anticipation and nerves making your skin tingle. Anakin kisses you deeply, like he’s trying to pour every ounce of love and devotion he has into it. It’s a little overwhelming, but in a good way. Then he starts to push inside, slow and careful, and you kind of appreciate that he’s taking his time.
You tense up as he breaches your entrance, a sharp sting making you gasp. It’s not unbearable, but it definitely doesn’t feel amazing either. Anakin immediately stops, his forehead pressed to yours, whispering, "Breathe, baby. You're doing so good."
You take a deep breath, trying to relax. It’s almost funny how you’re practically giving yourself a pep talk in your head, like Come on, body, get it together. He resumes his slow advance, inch by inch sliding deeper inside you, and when he finally bottoms out, he stays still. It’s like he’s letting you take your time to adjust, which is nice, but also, who knew this would be so... full?
"How do you feel, angel?" he asks softly, brushing a stray piece of hair off your face. You can tell he’s genuinely concerned, and it’s oddly comforting.
"Full," you whisper, marveling at the sensation. It’s not something you can easily describe, but it’s a lot. "You’re... really big." The words slip out before you can stop them, and you can’t help but cringe a little at how cliché it sounds.
He chuckles against your neck, clearly amused. "You’re taking me so well. So tight and perfect." His voice is low and husky, and you can’t decide if you want to roll your eyes or melt into him.
He starts to move, pulling out slowly before easing back in, setting a gentle rhythm. It’s almost annoyingly sweet how careful he’s being. Like, I get it—you’re trying to be nice. But as the slow, steady thrusts start to build up, the sparks of pleasure begin to spread through your body, and okay, maybe the slow pace is a good thing after all.
You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you instinctively rock your hips to meet his. The feelings are overwhelming, so much more intense than you expected. You’re teetering right on the edge, and you can barely think straight.
"Ani, I think... I think I’m gonna..." you pant, your walls starting to flutter around him. It’s kind of hilarious how fast this is happening, but also, it’s not like you’re going to stop it.
"That’s it, baby. Come for me. I’ve got you," he encourages, and you can hear the strain in his voice, like he’s barely holding on himself.
With a final, deep thrust, you shatter, your vision going white as ecstasy crashes over you. You feel like you’re floating for a second, everything going hazy. Anakin follows right after, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan that’s almost enough to send you over the edge again.
And just like that, it's over. You're both a sweaty, panting mess, tangled up together, and you can’t help but think, Well, that was definitely worth the hype.
#anakin skywalker x reader smut#anakin#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker x reader#star wars imagine#star wars anakin#star wars#hayden christensen#anakin x reader#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#darth vader#sw prequels
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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 8
pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami
synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.
warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)
a/n: AHHH im so sorry i was gone for so long! work and school and i got sick again. my luck lately has been quite poor, but here's the next part!! i dont think its quite well written but i hope you all think its good! thank u again for ur support, kindness, and patience :) (sorry i say thank you so much, cant help myself!)
all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7,
December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday
You should have worn more lotion.
The unkind cold and threatening winds made your trek to work excruciatingly more difficult. Surely you made it, but had to get blind by the flurries of snow in the process. You take your time in the lobby, stomping aggressively down at the weather mats to remove all the snow and ice from your boots. You shake yourself like a wet dog to get the snow off your coat, too. The lobby men chuckle at you, and you couldn’t help but smile.
It’s been rough to do so, after all. Considering you got rejected twice by the same man, you needed all the serotonin you could get. You spent hours crying, which only halted when you finally passed out. The heartbreak exhausted you, given how dark your eyes were, and how hollow your chest has felt since then. The worst part about all of it is that despite everything, you still had Nanami’s coffee in mind.
It floated in your mind to go to the cafe and get him a cup. But you have to remember that he has other assistants who know his coffee order now. You were now one of few who knew it.
To have your relationship seen as just boss/assistant by the other participant felt like punishment. A large sigh left your lips when you exited the elevator on your floor. Shivers tickled your body as you begrudgingly walked over to your desk. It was warm in the office, enough for you to take solace in.
You begin to turn on your computer and prepare your desk, before being interrupted by two hands slamming down your desk. You look up to find a panting (and exhausted) Haibara. “Yu?” You whisper worriedly. “Is everything okay?”
“He lost the flashdrive,” Haibara lets out. “The presentation… it’s missing.”
Your eyes widen, “Nanami? But… how?” Of all people, Nanami was never one to lack in anything, especially in organization. He was always sharp and aware of where all his things were. You never had to concern yourself with assignments getting lost because Nanami is too diligent.
“We– we um, drank last night…?” Haibara reluctantly confesses. “We both got home quite late… he might not have his whole head on.”
Without another word, you swiftly leave your desk and rush over to Nanami’s office, with Haibara following closely behind. On your way towards his office, you see all of Takada’s assistants outside of his office, their expressions full of concern. You make your way through them and knock on his door gently.
“What?” Nanami’s annoyed tone rang through the door.
“It’s Y/N,” you reply, ignoring his attitude.
Quick shifting was sound behind the door before the doorknob began to turn. The door opens to reveal a disheveled Nanami. Despite his usually refined features, his unkempt hair and unbutton shirt was quite distracting. The shadows line his collarbone and the darkness under his eyes add to the intensity in his struggling, hazel eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes slightly lighting up from your presence. There was some sort of relief in his eyes, but it was still drowned out by anxiety.
“Please, please tell me you have a copy?” Nanami practically begs.
You feel a lump in your throat from seeing his desperation. Not even you can be dismissive to his plea. “I–I was instructed not to keep an extra copy. It’s confidential, so I didn’t…”
Nanami let out a quiet ‘fuck,’ retreating slowly back towards his desk. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself because you’re right and I’m simply irresponsible…” He leans back against his desk, defeatedly holding himself up with his hands firmly down on the desk behind him. He looks distantly to the floor, a sight you never thought you’d ever see.
The confident, sharp Nanami was now at his wits’ end.
“Do you remember when you last had it?” You ask quietly.
“I had it in my coat pocket on my way here,” he recalls quietly, “I still had it when I got off the train, so it must be outside around the area.”
“But with all that snow…” Haibara begins, the defeat clearly on his tongue.
You let out a sigh, emitting a calm apology before dismissing yourself. Once you were out of sight, you ran towards the elevator, practically beating the button until it arrived to you. You impatiently wait as you descend, your body already feeling the cold from outside. Even maintenance couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched you run out from the lobby, and into the harsh weather.
It was a bit embarrassing for you. You were always there to fix Nanami’s scarce mistakes, or prevent them. Even after he broke your heart twice, here you are, outside in the freezing cold, without any garments to protect you from it. You could feel your body beginning to go numb from the seconds you were outside.
Your exposed legs were inches deep in the snow, your frigid hands sifting desperately through the snow. Why? You asked yourself. Why, why, why? You were freezing, the weather was harsh, and this flash drive is as small as a roach. Why were you doing all of this?
As you shoveled through the snow, you were finally able to feel how you were feeling after facing Nanami again. You were able to keep yourself from crying, but you wanted to cry profusely. Your boss, your crush, was stressed out over a mistake he made, and it didn’t even make you feel better. Unfortunately, your feelings were too weaved into his, and you felt the stress he is feeling.
It bothered you to see him stressed. So much so, your body moved on its own and now it was in the cold, looking for the solution to Nanami’s problem. You didn’t even stay idle for a moment while in his office. Perhaps, the reason why you were helping him was because since you met Nanami, he has always been someone to work for his team.
But you know for sure part of it was that you never want to see him like that again.
Taking on projects on his own to keep his other colleagues working in low piles. Working with clients he personally isn’t a fan of to make sure the company grows. Providing breakfast and lunch when important meetings arise to make sure everyone at least eats well before torturous work. He was strict, but never a mean person. And to that end might explain why you still felt the way you did.
However,
Your respect for him goes above your feelings. A hard piece of plastic was barely felt between your fingers, but they were able to hold onto it firmly. The small flash drive, covered in a bit of snow, still glowed green when you pushed up to reveal the USB. You promptly make your way back in, the warmth barely penetrating the cold you developed while being outside.
I’m gonna get sick, you thought to yourself. As you passed through the lobby, you noticed Nanami’s clients getting checked in at the lobby. You hurry to the elevator, pushing aggressively at the close button so they didn’t have a chance to get there at the same time you did. You move your legs in place, attempting to regain some warmth. While you ascended, you purposely pushed the buttons of the floors you passed to delay their arrival. Finally reaching your level, you rush out to go to the other free elevator. As you did, you were met with a concerned Haibara.
“H-hey!” Haibara calls to you, but you ignore him and shove the flash drive into his hand. But as you did, he noticed that you were frozen and kept his hands around yours. “You… found it? Did you go outside? Without a coat? Y/N, you’re freezing!”
Oh, how you wished you fell for Haibara instead. You pull away your hand, quickly entering the other elevator and slamming your hands on the buttons. You look up at Haibara, your bottom lip blue and quivering. “Take it to Nanami,” you say roughly, your voice hoarse from the little warmth in your body. “Your clients. They’re downstairs. Hurry up.”
Haibara holds onto your arms, noticing that you could barely keep yourself up, “yeah, fuck the clients. You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“Please,” you look up at him desperately, tears welling in your eyes. It was already enough that you felt stupid for even looking for the flashdrive in this state. But even Haibara couldn’t push away the hurt and stress in your own eyes. “I’ll be fine… please help Nanami finish this.”
“Let me at least walk you to your desk–”
“I got her!” You both look over to see Tae run over, his apron dancing left and right from not being properly tied in the back. He quickly takes hold of you, looking up at Haibara to give him a curt nod in replacement of a proper bow. “Resume your work, Haibara-sama. I can tend to her.”
Tae held you close enough that you could feel his warmth. It was intoxicating almost, the solace of his heat and the scent of pine needles emanating from his body. The fresh scent of linen coming from his black sweatshirt made you feel a little nostalgic but uneasy. You could still feel the cold taking you over, your entire body shivering. His hands firmly held you without squeezing you tightly.
Haibara looks down skeptically, but you wave at him. “Please go,” you croak, coughs finally leaving your throat. “I’ll be fine.” You could see that you didn’t quite persuade him, but for the sake of Nanami, he nodded.
He eyes Tae, a rare serious aura surrounding him, “get her to a doctor if she needs it. I’ll be back as soon as the presentation ends. Please make her something hot, like hot cocoa or soup.” Tae nods, allowing Haibara to run back towards Nanami, who was probably drowning in his own anxiety.
“‘m sorry to inconvenience you like this, Tae,” you whisper, your body still shaking and twitching from the cold. “But thank you for that.”
“No worries, please don’t exert yourself,” Tae softly warns. He tightens his hold on you before slowly walking you over to the cafe. Though you didn’t have enough trust to close your eyes, you did have enough to hold his sweater, confident that he won’t let you fall. “Let me help you. After all, you helped me first. Come, the cafe is just around the corner.”
The relief on Nanami’s face was truly meant to be displayed in a museum.
He held onto the flashdrive tightly, mentally scolding himself from ever dropping it in the first place. He forces it into the projector, and everything was set up for the clients to come in moments. He noticed that the flash drive was not only still cold, but slightly wet. “Was it outside in the snow?”
Haibara nods as he fixes up the conference table a bit. It was ornate with drinks, snacks, and notetaking items for their clients to use and enjoy. “The snow is really growing by the inch out there. This winter is brutal.”
“It truly is unkind out there,” Nanami sighs, his eyes looking through the window. “I hope you grabbed your coat before going out there.”
Haibara shakes his head, “it wasn’t me who found the flashdrive; it was Y/N. I caught her at the elevator, and she was the one who handed it to me.”
Nanami slightly perks up at your name, “did she really?”
“She left straight from your office to go find it,” Haibara says quietly, “but she didn’t even bring a sweater. She was completely frozen when I saw her.”
This left a pit in Nanami’s stomach. “Why did she not bring a coat? She’s more rational than that.”
Haibara lets out a sigh, “who’s to say, Kento. Y/N works very hard to do right by you and this company. I think she’d do whatever it takes in order to make sure you and this department shines.”
“Disregarding her health is not why she’s here,” Nanami huffs strictly. “Where is she?”
“I left her with the barista you hired,” Haibara informs, “my guess is he took her to the cafe to warm her up.”
Nanami’s eyes cut over to Haibara, burning through his soul. Despite this, Haibara still didn’t see his eyes. “You left her with a stranger?”
“A stranger you hired,” Haibara clarifies. “Anyways, Y/N insisted I come help you. I’d probably make her feel worse if I didn’t.”
There was a rare annoyance that Nanami never felt. You were always conscious of yourself, and others. Nanami always noticed when you would help someone with a large pile of papers, or when you applied bandages to blisters due to your heels. But more times than not, you never shied away from a challenge, and never hesitated to help someone whether they asked or not.
But now you were far from him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He had this stupid presentation to do, rather than be by your side and tend to you. After all, you truly were the reason behind his success. The reason for his reduced stress, and a direct asset to his department. You did so much for him, only to be given a shred of that effort. He was feeling guilty, not only for being unaware of his feelings towards you, but the immense disregard he had for your own feelings and effort in this company.
You were his dear assistant, and he was breaking you.
“I’ll be back,” Nanami hums, rushing out of the conference room. Haibara looks back and follows right behind him, surprised by his sudden dash.
Nanami, the meeting!” Haibara calls out to him, “you can’t do this right now!”
His response was silence as he reached the corner towards the cafe. As he appears in the opening, his hazel eyes relentlessly looked for you. But when he stumbled upon you, his concern and annoyance skyrocketed.
You were lying on one of the couches at the cafe, surrounded by a few of the baristas there. They all comforted you, as you lay under a few blankets. But Nanami noticed that below all of that, you were covered by a large, black crewneck. On your head, a beanie as well. And sat on a stool right in front of you with a hot coffee cup was Tae, the barista he hired. Nanami noticed the warmth in his eyes when he looked down at you, with a free hand out to you. Your boss felt a lump in his throat when he saw you take his hand, helping you sit up to take the cup from him. Tae kept his hand on the bottom of the cup while you sipped it cautiously.
His chest felt like someone was pushing it down, his breath was limited. His heart, at the same time, was punching against it as well, almost as if it was going through a two-front war. He looks down at his hands, adjusting the sleeves at both of his wrists. He needed to reach you– sooner rather than later. And now looked like the perfect opportunity.
But before he could take another step, the elevator behind him opened, and the entourage of clients he was expecting stood before him, all smiles. Haibara catches up and pats Nanami’s back, forcing him to turn around as they both curtly bow in greeting. A vein protruded Nanami’s temple, and Haibara looked back to see what he was looking at.
What he saw made him crack a small smile, his energy returning to him as he led the clients and an annoyed Nanami towards the conference room.
Taglist: [Now Closed]
@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000
@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn
@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist
@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds
@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve
@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nananmi kento#jjk x reader#nanami fanfic#nanami x reader#kento nanami#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami
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Imagine being able to see people’s elemental aura. If they bear a vision, the energy around them takes the color of the corresponding element. So Pyro users have a burning red-orange energy flickering about them while Dendro wielders are draped in a calm deep green. Only you can see their aura, perhaps just a special (but mostly useless) gift you were born with.
Which is why when you start working for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and are introduced to Zhongli, you’re freaking out that you can’t tell anyone he’s actually the Geo Archon who is supposed to be dead.
Shimmering golden rays with a glare so intense they may just be exploding stars suspended in sunlight…yes, the aura around him is simply unmistakable. The Dendro Archon’s wavelength was of a similar intensity back when you attended the Sabzeruz festival. The appearance of the Raiden Shogun during Irodori had you beholding a similar feeling.
Zhongli’s every action only confirms it, not that confirmation was ever needed. His knowledge is too vast to be that of a young man, his mannerisms more ethereal than worldly, his gait steadier than stone.
Soon enough, he takes notice of the way you’re always so jittery around him – but he chalks it up to you being a naturally skittish thing. So he tries to alleviate your nerves by talking to you any chance he gets…not that that helps because his every word has you even more on edge.
“So true, bestie!” you blurt out after he’s told you something that’s gone in one ear and out the other. “Speaking of, isn’t it so sad that Rex Lapis is dead?”
Zhongli pauses, eyeing you curiously. “My dear, this is the third time this week you have brought up the topic of the Geo Lord’s death. Has it affected you so? Please take comfort in that He remains in all our hearts, watching over us common folk from the afterlife.”
He’s mocking me, I just know it! you think, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at the divine golden aura crackling around him.
One time, as (un)luck may have it, you accidentally bump into him and spill coffee on his beautiful suit. “Oh gods! Forgive me!” you wail, getting onto your knees. This time…this time he’ll certainly show you his godly wrath…maybe skewer you with his spear…or summon a fissure to swallow you…
But Zhongli is chuckling softly, dabbing at the stain with his lovely embroidered handkerchief. “Please do not fret, my friend. This is nothing a wash will not fix.”
You then insist you’ll cover the cost and get it cleaned, to which he eventually accedes. Holy…when he takes it off to reveal his cream-coloured shirt underneath, it’s like his aura gets even more blinding. It takes everything in you not to just throw yourself at his feet and sing his praises.
(How gorgeous he looks as he works the rest of the day with his coat off.)
He warmly invites you over to his place for tea when you come to return his coat, now cleaned; the house is as well-kept as he is. As night falls, the glow around him only strengthens in response. You can’t stop yourself from asking, mid-sip of your well-made tea:
“What’s Rex Lapis doing working a salaried job?”
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Super Eater—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— nicholas loves eating your pussy, anywhere and anytime. based on this request.
warnings— oral(f receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, pussy worshiping.
a/n—the title is actually sending me LMFAOAOA. working on the requests slowly but surely <3
Nicholas had a devotion to your pleasure that was almost relentless. Every so often, he’d give you this look—a mix of awe and pure need, and you’d know exactly what he wanted, to eat you out. It didn’t matter where you were; he was completely undeterred by anything. He did not care. All he cared about was his tongue in your pussy.
One night, the two of you were driving back from a date, winding down a quiet road surrounded by trees. Without warning, Nicholas pulled over, his face determined and eyes gleaming. “Nick, what are you doing?” you asked, your laughter mingling with excitement.
He gave a sheepish grin before his voice dropped to a murmur, filled with that familiar intensity. “You know I can’t wait, I need to taste you now.” The night proceeded with your legs in the air in the backseat of his car, and him not caring about the slight uncomfortable position he was in as his tongue sucked on your clit.
Then there was that afternoon while out shopping. The two of you had barely stepped into a dressing room when Nicholas gave you a look that you recognized all too well. “We’re in public,” you whispered, but he only shook his head with a playful smile.
“No one will hear,” he reassured, already leaning in. “I just need to show you how much I love eating your pussy.”
At a family gathering, Nicholas found a chance to slip away with you upstairs, where he gently pulled you into an empty bathroom. You let out an incredulous laugh, whispering, “This is not the place.” But he just gazed at you, completely unbothered, his cheeks flushed with his usual sweetness yet edged with that fierce determination.
“I don’t care,” he murmured, his voice reverent. “I need to feel you cum on my tongue.”
As usual, you gave in to his need and ended up with your own panties in your mouth as Nicholas lapped at your juices. Your taste was better than anything his family had cooked that evening.
Another time, the two of you were at Cooper Koch’s rooftop party. The music thumped in the background, people mingling just outside the stairwell where you both slipped away. He had that look again, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he pulled you close. “Here? Seriously?”
With a soft, unbothered grin, he whispered, “I just need a few minutes to eat you out baby, you drive me insane.”
After each of these spontaneous moments, you couldn’t help but ask him. “Nick, I don’t get it. You love doing this more than anything. Why?”
He chuckled, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks, before looking at you with complete sincerity. “I don’t know if I can put it all into words. It’s fucking everything about you,” he said, voice reverent, “the way you smell, the way you taste, I love watching you lose yourself, how you get all squirmish.” His voice softened even more, gaze affectionate yet intense. “I just want to make love to you like this. Make love to your pussy, show you how much I fucking love it. It’s about you and making you feel good, that’s all I fucking need.
His words though so dirty, left you feeling adored, with no doubt of just how deeply he cared about your pleasure. He absolutely worshiped you, especially your pussy. He always believed women when they would talk about the power of the pussy due to how much power yours had over him. It was like it was tethered to him, like it called out to him. Like it craved his skillful tongue the way he craved to taste and savor it too.
One night, a particular premiere you attended was packed, the energy high, and the atmosphere electric. You and Nicholas had just snuck into the bathroom for a quick breather when he turned to you, eyes filled with a familiar look of lust.
“Nicholas, no,” you whispered, laughing softly as he stepped closer, his hands wrapping around your waist. “We can’t, not here.”
“I need to,” he murmured, almost pleading, voice husky and low as he licked his lips. “Please, I can’t wait. I know you’re aching to have my mouth on that clit.” His lips ghosted along your jaw, and before you could say no again, you felt yourself giving in.
The way he touched you was always more than gentle—it was worshipful, his mouth leaving you breathless and gripping onto him for support as he’d make you feel like you were the only person in the world. His skillful movements had a way of knowing exactly what you needed, drawing out every little sound until you couldn’t think straight.
When you finally left the bathroom, both of you were trying not to laugh, cheeks flushed and pulses racing. You caught a knowing smile from Cooper waiting outside who must have heard, and Nicholas just pulled you close, grinning as you both walked away, hands intertwined.
“That was risky,” you said, breathless and still tingling.
He just smiled, leaning close to whisper, “Worth it. That pretty fucking pussy is worth every second of it.”
He loved when you were in the comfort of your own home, how he could bend you over anywhere, and anytime—not that he couldn’t and didn’t do the same thing when you were out. It’s just that being at home made him able to savor you even more. There was no one to interrupt, no reason to look over his shoulder, no reason to make it quick though still savoring your taste but faster as to not raise suspicion.
If you were in the kitchen making something in those tiny little booty shorts, your coils free and just one of his t shirts draped over you, he’d hike it up, pulling down your little shorts and burying his face in your plump ass, his tongue darting to lick your pussy from the back. You’d be standing up convulsing, your hand gripping the counter as he knelt down behind you, absolutely ravishing you like a man possessed.
He would not stop until your legs turned to jelly and you’d fall to your knees, but he was relentless.
On this particular night, something feral awakened inside him. He was always feral but there was something different. Maybe it had to do with you being out of the country with your girls for the week and not having any physical contact. Whatever it was, it had Nicholas worked up the moment you left and the moment you called him to pick you up from the airport.
He hugged you tightly, placing your bags in the trunk and you immediately noticed that familiar glint in his eye. You sighed internally, knowing this would probably lead to a session on the side of the road but you were shocked when he just drove straight home. Though, his hand remained on your thigh the entire drive, moving to your clothed pussy and rubbing periodically.
“Fucking hell you tortured me,” he began, “one whole fucking week without your pussy in my mouth.”
You rolled your eyes, staring out the window as you pulled into the driveway, not knowing just how serious and feral he was.
You barely finished your long, relaxing bath when Nicholas appeared, sweeping you into his arms before you could even catch your breath. His lips crashed against yours, desperate and needy, his hands trailing over your still damp skin as he pulled you close.
“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “I missed your taste, your scent, the way you’d writhe under my touch, scream my name, fucking the everything. I need that pussy, now.”
His intensity left you breathless, and before you knew it, he was leading you toward the bed. “Sit on face,”he whispered, eyes dark with anticipation. “Let me show you just how much I worship this pussy.”
You felt a shiver run through you as you settled above him, and he looked up at you with a grin, his hands holding you close as he murmured, “Perfect.” His movements were filled with a fierce, passionate need, each touch and kiss a reminder of how much he’d missed you, his hands steadying you while he worshiped every inch.
The feeling was like ecstasy, you were high in the clouds from the way he lapped at your juices, his tongue flat against your pussy then curling and flicking exactly where you needed it.
His little moans of content had you shivering and holding on to the bed frame for support.
You gasped, overwhelmed by his intensity, and he looked up, grinning as he said, “Don’t hold back, I want it all.”
You couldn’t hold back if you wanted to, his tongue was practically penetrating your hole as he shoved it inside, sucking and licking everything that came out of you.
“I love this pussy, you’re amazing, everything about you,” he groaned.
Your cries grew louder and more desperate, each time you felt like you were on the edge, he’d slow down his movements.
“This pussy is heaven, I’d die if I couldn’t have my mouth on it.”
“God, mm- this fucking pussy has me in a chokehold.”
“So tight, you’re just clenching around my tongue.”
“You’re so perfect, this pussy is perfect in every single way.”
“I could have you on top of me for the rest of eternity.”
“Grind on my face, rub your pussy all over my face, give it to me baby.”
His words had you sobbing in pleasure, and he kept you on edge so you could get even more sloppy and needy for him. Your pussy practically soaked his mouth and was dripping down his chin.
“Please Nick, I really need to cum,” you pleaded.
“Just a bit more baby, I need to have you soak me a little bit more.”
Nicholas had you on the edge for what felt like forever, teasing and taking his time, his mouth moving over your pussy with a focus that made every nerve in your body come alive. He looked up at you now and then, that glint in his eye as he paused just when you were about to fall over the edge, whispering praises and reassurances.
“Fuck, I’d do anything for you, you have me under your spell,” he murmured, his voice warm and low, sending another shiver through you. “So perfect for me, every single part of you.”
Every time you felt yourself getting closer, his pace would change, drawing you back just enough to keep you in a state of dizzy anticipation. The way he looked at you, like you were all he ever wanted, made you melt as he made love to your pussy and worshiped you.
Finally, when he decided you’d had enough, he held you steady and whispered, “Let go for me baby, I want you to squirt all over my face, I’ve got you.”
At his words, the dam inside you finally broke, and the release was overwhelming. You trembled beneath his touch, feeling completely lost in the intensity of it as he held you, anchoring you through every moment. You soaked him, your orgasm spraying from you as his face and chest was drenched in your juices. His grin, proud and gentle, was the last thing you saw as he lifted you from on top of him lay you down and kissed you softly, murmuring, “Perfect. My perfect girl.”
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez x black reader#nicholas chavez fanfiction#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez x reader smut#nicholas chavez fic#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas chavez fluff#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x female reader#nicholas chavez x fem!reader#nicholas chavez blurb#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew x reader#father charlie mayhew x reader smut#father charlie grotesquerie#father charlie x reader#father charlie smut#dr charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew smut#dr charlie mayhew x reader#grotesquerie smut#charlie mayhew x y/n#nicholas chavez x you#nicholas chavez x y/n#f
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Momo - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat
Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!
Yuki: Thanks for your hard work
Yuki: Anyone here?
Okazaki Rinto: You’re early, Yuki-kun!? I’m here!
Yuki: Okarin, you’re online. Yuki here
Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, I know. There’s still time before the interview though...
Yuki: That’s true, but today’s an important interview day and I finished composing, so I thought I’d camp here early.
Okazaki Rinto: How wonderful. Momo-kun will be thrilled when he reads this!
Yuki: Yeah, who’s the star of the show today after all? Are you at the recording booth with him?
Okazaki Rinto: Actually, the recording ran longer than scheduled so Momo-kun should be back to the dressing room right around the interview time!
Yuki: Is that so. So it’s just the two of us for now.
Yuki: So what should we talk about until he’s back. Shall we have a competition to list what we find the cutest about Momo?
Okazaki Rinto: There’s no way I’m winning that. Let’s talk about what we like about you instead!
Yuki: Are you doing a bit
Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun himself actually suggested it. He said "There’s a chance I’m gonna be late, you two can just talk about how super handsome Yuki is!"
Yuki: We thought the same thing.
Okazaki Rinto: I’ll start with my opinion! You used to say you weren’t good with people, but now you’re so approachable it’s amazing!
Yuki: Thanks. Do I have to say something too?
Yuki: I can write music
Okazaki Rinto: Next! I also think you’re an incredible actor. I feel so proud seeing you soar even beyond the idol world!
Yuki: Thank you. More new rivals keep popping up, so I can’t slack off anymore.
Yuki: Now’s my turn
Yuki: Now I’m out
Okazaki Rinto: That’s it!?
Yuki: That’s it
Momo: You barely scratched the surface!?!?!?
Yuki: Here comes Momo
Momo: Here comes Momo-chan!! Sorry for making you two wait 🥺🥺 I couldn’t stop smiling reading all the rabbichat notifications 🥰
Momo: But really, just three or four points don’t even compare in the sea of Yuki’s charm!?!?!?!? Like, his beauty mark is beyond handsome, the way he looks at me with such intensity makes me fall in love all over again. He’s so beautiful from the tip of his fingers to every strand of his hair?!?!?!?
Momo: And the way he calls me his “precious partner” is just too handsome…!!!
Yuki: You type really fast, Momo.
Momo: Lightning fast!!!!!
Yuki: I appreciate you saying all that, but today is all about you, Momo.
Momo: That’s trueee~
Momo: You’re gonna share,,,, what feelings you poured into producing my project right,,,,,,,,
Momo: aaaaaaaaaghhh can my heart even handle this ‼ Yuki, Okarin, please take it easy on me ‼
Yuki: I’ll be gentle.
Okazaki Rinto: Let’s get started! As requested, we’re aiming for a casual, relaxed vibe for this interview, as if you’re not even working. So we decided to do it over rabbichat!
Okazaki Rinto: First off, Momo-kun! Please tell us how you felt when you found out Yuki-kun’s gonna produce your song!
Momo: Hmm...he usually composes for Re:vale as a whole, but he did it just for me this time. To think that he created not just the song but also the lyrics, costumes, and the whole concept...I feel so lucky it’s almost too much to believe.
Momo: The person I’ve admired for so long brings me so much happiness now. I want to take that a hundred, a thousand times and deliver it back to all my fans.
Momo: Wait a sec is this real? I’m not dreaming, right?
Okazaki Rinto: Don’t pinch your cheeks so hard, Momo-kun!
Yuki: It’s real, Momo.
Momo: It is...
Momo: This is so special to me that it always felt like a dream! I mean, just singing with Yuki already makes me so happy, but I didn’t know there was even a possibility to ascend to another level of happiness.
Yuki: I’m just as grateful for the opportunity to focus on a project entirely for you, Momo.
Momo: Yukiiiiii~
Momo: Wait a sec, how come my darling is the most handsome guy in the world !?!? 😭😭😭
Yuki: I know. So what did you think when you heard the song?
Momo: It was so cool... I thought it’d be more cutesy
Momo: But it was completely different! And it has this super stylish dance number, I could picture us dancing together the moment I listened to the airy melody.
Momo: Even though we sing in a high pitch, the deep bass was so powerful, I love it soooooooo much…
Yuki: I’m happy
Yuki: I wanted to capture all your different sides
Okazaki Rinto: Interesting…! I’d love to hear more about your creative process!
Yuki: You could say it’s about Momo’s “switches”, in a way. A switch for when he’s singing, when he’s performing.
Yuki: A switch for when he’s pressing close to my side, thinking about lyrics to write. Working earnestly and wholeheartedly.
Yuki: They’re all different switches within Momo. It all shifts. The gap between them all is intriguing.
Momo: My “switches” huh... So that’s how you see me.
Momo: You’re right though, I do change depending on the person or situation without even realizing. The gap between the melody and the high pitch reflect that.
Momo: And the electronic sounds are supposed to represent little switches, right? That’s just like you, it’s fascinating!!!!
Yuki: Thank you. It was challenging since I wasn’t allowed to compose the entire thing myself, but it was worth it.
Momo: And the lyrics moved me deeply. I could feel your message of wanting to face the future together, and to keep singing for an eternity and beyond.
Yuki: That’s right. This song is for you, who pulled me forward and shone your light upon me that day.
Momo: That’s because
Momo: Yuki’s music gave me the push I needed back then
Momo: So that’s why I
Yuki: Momo. You always say you’re thankful to me but
Yuki: "Beneath the countless stars, I can reach anywhere as long as I’m with you." Being with you lets me sing anywhere, Momo.
Yuki: Just like that day we sang together on the sandy beach of a deserted island, the place where you and I sing, the place where Re:vale is, will always be the best stage ever. (1)
Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun’s crying.
Yuki: Don’t shed tears when I can’t be with you to wipe them.
Momo: Wh
Momo: Whoa stop stop stop stop hold up wasn’t that way too smooth?!?! That line was so hot my tears stopped on their own!?
Yuki: Hello, it’s me, the handsome Yuki.
Momo: Kyaaaa!! Please look my wayyy!! 🤩✨
Yuki: Yep. I’m looking straight at my phone.
Momo: lolololol thanks! I totally feel your eyes on me 🤩✨
Okazaki Rinto: Alright, I’m sorry but let’s get back on track. I’d love to hear about the concept behind your outfits and promo shoots!
Momo: I’m so excited to hear about it! I was hyped the moment I walked into the room for the photoshoot! It looked exactly like a gaming room 🎮
Yuki: The song doesn’t fit an outdoor setting. I felt like even indoors would still be too bright, so I went for a moody, neon-lit setup the moment I found out something like that existed.
Yuki: It was perfect for Momo since he loves gaming, but the gentle neon light reflecting in the dark felt especially very Momo-like to me
Momo: I’m so happy!!!! I really do love those kinds of lights toooo~~ I see how it is, hehe~~~~
Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, your idea of what “feels Momo-like” is always very diverse.
Yuki: Is it? I think it’s normal
Momo: And don’t forget the outfits, I loved them so much >u< Yuki doesn’t usually wear clothes in that style so I snapped a ton of photos of him!
Yuki: I thought we might as well embrace the Momo vibe for this shoot too. We even took tons of pictures together.
Momo: Yup! We were dressed like Player 1 and Player 2! 🪄
Yuki: It's been fun trying a style I don’t normally wear
Momo: You looked amazing!! 😍 💚 Why don’t you start wearing clothes like that more often?!
Yuki: Then how about we try some different combinations next time? (2)
Momo: Huh?! W-w-ww-w-ww-we don’t have to go that far!!!!!!!!!???
Yuki: Why not? Matching outfits always have a wide variety
Momo: Huh!!!!!!!!!! Okarin !!!!!!!! What do I do !!!!!!!! Work is one thing, but a private setting is totally different?!?!?!?!?!
Okazaki Rinto: I find it funny that you’re typing what you’re muttering in real life, LOL.
Yuki: How nice. I wanna be there too
Momo: You have work after this right? so Momo-chan will wait for you to finish!!
Yuki: Yeah. Thank you
Okazaki Rinto: The request was to make this a more relaxed conversation, but you might be a bit too relaxed right now, or maybe you’re just acting like you always are….
Yuki: Is that a problem? It’s fine, right, Momo?
Momo: Right, Yuki! 🫶
Okazaki Rinto: That’s right! It’s totally fine! And finally, please share a message for the fans!
Yuki: This new direction may surprise some fans, but from where I stand, Momo is strong, gentle, and full of warmth. Just like a sunrise that blends the dark and light, he’s a mix of many wonderful qualities.
Yuki: That’s why the song plays tricks with a variety of rhythms, melodies and singing tones. They reflect Momo’s ever-changing expressions. I hope you enjoy “Get in the Groove.”
Momo: I always spend every day thinking about how happy I am ever since Yuki and I became Re:vale. Sometimes so much so that I wish time could stop.
Momo: But you know, listening to “Get in the Groove” made me feel even happier! I know this project was born all thanks to our fans’ unwavering support. Thank you so much!!! I feel like the happiest person alive right now!
Momo: And that’s why I want everyone who supports us to feel as happy as I do, always and forever! I hope that you never get your feelings hurt! And if sadness ever comes your way, I hope our songs will be able to heal you!
Momo: Re:vale will always be a warm light, shining on everyone like the sun that rises each morning. Now and forever, with Yuki by my side!
Momo: That’s all I got!
Okazaki Rinto: Thank you both! This was Re:vale in full force!
Momo: Yup! I feel Yuki’s love overflowing more than usual 🥹❤
Yuki: Really? I’m not really good with words
Momo: Well no, you’ve gotten dangerously much better at that recently!!??!!!
Okazaki Rinto: It’s hard to believe you once had to practice saying stuff like this.
Yuki: Yeah, that sure did happen.
Yuki: Momo, promise me you’ll keep smiling by my side now and forever
Momo: Yeah. I promise!!
For those who are confused, the sandy beach of a deserted island refers to a specific plot point in part 5 of the main story.
I. am frankly not entirely sure how to interpret this. Because judging by Momo’s reaction I believe Yuki was Most Definitely Not insinuating an actual change of color combinations but. A Different Kind of “combinations”.
#idolish7#i7#ainana#idolish7 translation#re:vale#orikasa yukito#sunohara momose#yuki re:vale#momo re:vale#okazaki rinto#16 producers#rabbit chat
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I finally got around to posting the rest of the fic here! It's finished! I've included an a03 link of the whole thing at the end. @schrodingersauthorii gave me an idea for this part in the comments to this very post!
Part 2
The atmosphere of the meet was a lot nicer than he expected. The other students were kind to him, many complementing them on his sports day performance. The team members and Coach Sakuragi were less, well, mean to each other than the team he’d briefly been part of, cheering each on rather than acting sullen when anyone outperformed them. The coach at his old school had always responded to any mistake with a torrent of frustrated criticism that made Natsume tremble in shame. But Sakuragi never acted disappointed or angry. She came off like she was giving friendly suggestions, and she pointed out what they were doing well at lot too. The team responded to her advice eagerly, rather than fearing her.
It was nice, and Natsume almost wished he was the kind of person who could be a part of this. But he knew himself too well. He’d feel terrible each time he missed out due to being sick or waylaid by yokai. And that would happen a lot. The nicer these people were, the worse he’d feel about letting them down. It didn’t matter if they were fine with it, he wouldn’t be. And to be honest, even if he liked his teammates, he didn’t like thinking about huge crowds watching him, he didn’t like the idea of watching other people cry in frustration when he beat them, any of it.
So when Sakuragi asked him if he wanted to do a practice run with the others, he agreed, all while planning to run much slower than usual. He’d explain to her after that the performance on sports day was a fluke, and he usually wasn’t that fast, and there was no way he’d be able to pull it off consistently. Sakuragi would hopefully stop wanting him to join the team, and even if she still asked him, she and the others wouldn’t feel bad when he turned her down.
He took a deep breath, as he stood at the starting line, closing his eyes and blocking the gaze of Sakuragi and the other students out. If he didn’t imagine a yokai was chasing him, running slower was pretty manageable, and he was experienced enough with doing it in Phys Ed that he knew he could pull it off without looking like he was holding back. It would be fine. He’d be fine.
He got himself into position, taking off when Coach blasted the whistle. He lagged way behind the others, while doing his best to look like he was really giving his all. It was going pretty well, he thought, until he looped around on the track and saw a yokai directly in his path.
It wasn’t a big one, not even coming up to Natsume’s knee. It was black, so it had blended in well with the track. It was sort of blobby and shapeless in form, like an inkstain, with beady eyes and a wiggly head.
Natsume’s heart raced and his mouth went dry. It might look small, but he knew better than anyone not to trust a yokai’s appearance. It could be dangerous. Was it here to get the Book of Friends, or was it trying to do something to the people here? It didn’t matter. He had to do something. He couldn’t just slow down, that would give it time to attack.
Instead, he vaulted over the creature. His ankle twisted under him when he landed. He fell, knees and hands scraping the ground. He immediately sprang to his feet and ran as fast he could. He had to lead it away from everyone else.
His sneakers pounded on the rubber and intense vibrations raced through him with each step. It felt like his bones were shuddering. Somone was calling his name, but it was muffled and distant, everything was. He has no room in his brain for anything but his goal. I have to protect the people here. I have to protect the Book of Friends. He crossed the finish line and veered into the grass, ready to grab his bag and sprint out of school grounds. But he looked over his shoulder, he saw the blobby yokai hadn’t moved after him at all. It had simply flattened and spread out on the ground. It’s eyes were closed.
Was it…taking a nap?
Relief filled Natsume as he skidded to a stop. Yes, it was sleeping. Its breathing was even, and as sounds came back to him, he could hear some faint snoring. But he also heard something else, which was Coach Sakuragi screaming at him.
“NATSUME! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU RUN ON A SPRAINED ANKLE?” She shouted while running toward him.
Sprained…? Natsume looked down and saw his ankle was swelling. Suddenly, intense pain shot through his leg, his ankle folded under him, and he crumpled. Sakuragi caught him under his arms before he could hit the ground. She lifted him up easily.
Wow, she’s strong, Natsume thought dazedly. Bet I look pretty pathetic right now. He could see students had gathered around to stare at him, expressions worried or shocked. One girl called “Are you okay??”
“Y-yeah,” he said as his mind screamed in humiliation.
Sakuragi could have probably carried him, but thankfully she chose to simply pull his arm over shoulder. “Don’t stand on that ankle, keep it raised.” She commanded. She turned to the cluster of team members. “We need the chairs, the ice bag from the cooler, and the first aid kit. Go get them.”
The student’s responded quickly, three of them running off.
Soon they all came back with all the supplies, including two folding chairs. Sakuragi eased him into a chair. Natsume couldn’t help groaning in pain when a student propped up his leg on the chair in front of him, resting his ankle on a folded towel. Sakuragi quickly cleaned out the minor scrapes on his hands and knees with some medicine.
Natsume hated that he was disrupting the entire track meet and making so many people fuss over him, but he knew protesting would be ungrateful, so he softly thanked the other students instead. They smiled back at him.
Sakuragi placed the ice bag on his ankle. Natsume sighed in relief as the numbing cold broke through the pain.
Sakuragi bent down to examine his foot. “It don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to need to check it with a hospital. It’s badly sprained because of all the weight you put on it. Hopefully you didn’t tear the ligament completely.”
“A-a hospital?” Natsume’s stomach dropped. That was really going to worry Touko and Shigeru. He felt so stupid, putting them through all this because a harmless yokai was taking a nap.
Sakuragi straightened up and clapped her hands. “Okay, this isn’t a show, people. Give us some space and get back to practice.”
The team dispersed, and Sakuragi crossed her arms, frowning down at him. Natsume winced, thinking she was going to yell again. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Natsume.” she said calmly. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. This was just a practice run. Your first one, too. I’ve seen students try to run on injuries before, but this wasn’t even an actual race!”
Natsume’s looked at his ankle, which was rapidly turning purple, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“You don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you run on that ankle?”
“I-I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just kind of…instinct?” Natsume said. He instantly realized that how weird that sounded, and so, apparently, did Sakuragi.
“Instinct?” Her frown deepened and her eyebrows drew together. “Your instinct is to keep running even when you’re hurt?”
“No, no, it’s not like that, I’m just used to—!” He snapped his mouth shut.
What was wrong with him? He was usually better at covering things up. He’d almost said he was used to having to run while injured. He’d twisted his ankle running from yokai plenty of times, and at some point he’d learned to just block out the pain until he got to safety. But obviously he couldn’t tell the coach that. He desperately searched for another way to end the sentence, but before he could, the coach bent over, looking him directly in the eye.
“Natsume, you looked very frightened when that “instinct” kicked in. Like you were being chased down. Are you used to being chased? Is it something that happens a lot?”
Natsume’s blood froze. Did she know? Why? How? What was going on? His ankle was throbbing so badly now, it was hard to think the haze of pain. His breathing got faster, his ears buzzed… He had to say something, anything to throw her off…
Sakuragi put her hand gently on his shoulder, “Natsume, you can tell me anything. Is it someone who goes to this school? Or even more than one person? Have they been hurting you? I know it’s scary to talk about it, but I promise I can help–”
Natsume’s shoulders slumped as relief flooded him. She’d was asking if people were chasing him. Obviously she’d meant people. What was wrong with him? Sure, his ankle felt like it was being hit repeatedly with a giant hammer, but that was no excuse to lose his head.
Doing his best to come off as relaxed, he said “Oh, It’s not like that, Sensei, you don’t need to worry. People don’t chase me at all anymore.”
Sakuragi narrowed her eyes. “Anymore?”
He clearly should just stop talking forever. Maybe he’d sprained his brain along with his ankle.
Yes, he’d been chased by people, of course he had. And not just enthusiastic track coaches. He’d had to run away from plenty of classmates looking to teach the liar a lesson. Running from bullies was usually a lot easier than running from most yokai though, since people eventually tired out. He’d only been caught a few times.
At least this slip up didn’t put his secret in danger, it just made every inch of him cringe. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with her. But he had to make her understand everything was okay. Even if it meant embarrassing himself.
“Sensei, ever since I moved here, things have been so much better. People are so kind to me, my friends are amazing, the Fujiwaras are so warm and giving…” He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “I feel like I belong here. Actually belong. I’m happier than I ever thought I could be….”
Sakuragi was listening to him intently, and when he trailed off, she smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that. Sorry for the interrogation.”
She took some bandages out of the first aid kit and started wrapping his ankle with a steady practiced hand. “It sounds running is really connected to some… difficult experiences for you. I’m a teacher who’s supposed to look out for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to run. I should have listened and understood your feelings. I apologize.”
“No no, it’s not your fault Sensei, you’re honestly the nicest track coach I’ve ever—"
But his reassurance was cut off by a shout, “Natsume! What happened?!”
Natsume looked over his shoulder, and saw Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Sasada all coming around the corner of school building
What the heck are they doing here? His stomach dropped at the expressions of worry on their faces. Nishimura led the pack as they rushed toward him.
“How did you get hurt already?!” Nishimura exploded the second he was within talking range. “It’s been fifteen minutes since school let out! Fifteen! I bet you were doing some kind of crazy thing again, don’t you realize-?”
“Nishimura, calm down,” Kitamoto said, smacking his arm. “But seriously, Natsume, what happened?”
“I—"
“Did somebody trip you?” Sasada asked, fixing the scattered team members with a hawklike glare while they looked baffled in response. “Are there bullies here?”
“No—”
“It’s not broken, is it?” Nishimura was wincing as he looked at the ankle. “It looks so swollen—”
“Guys!” Taki cut him off. “Why don’t we stop freaking out and let Natsume get a word in edgewise?”
“Well said. I know you’re worried, give him the chance to explain,” Sakuragi said in a slightly amused tone.
Nishimura, Sasada, and Kitamoro jolted, like they hadn’t noticed the teacher before.
“Sorry, Sensei,” Sasada said immediately, bowing her head,
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, Natsume,” Nishimura mumbled.
Tanuma, who’d been quietly watching, stepped up and put his hand on Natsume’s shoulder. It was a timid, gentle touch, but Natsume could feel the weight of Tanuma’s concern through it. He smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked at the others.
“I just tripped, guys, that’s really all. I was doing a practice run and I stumbled and twisted my ankle. Though I, uh, also…” He was going to freak them out if he told them he’d kept running on it, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain it, but—
“He also bumped it a bit while I was guiding him to his chair,” Sakuragi cut him off, giving him a small smile. “That one was my fault.”
Natsume blinked at her, shocked she’d covered for him. She shook her head at him slightly as if to say ‘Just this once’.
“See, Nishimura?” Kitamoto elbowed him. “You of all people can’t be mad at him for tripping!”
“Yeah…” Nishimura said sheepishly.
“No, I’m really sorry for worrying you all,” Natsume said, guilt racing through him. “But, uh, what are you guys even doing here?
“We wanted to support you. The plan was just to meet you when you were done and walk home together,” Taki said.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before,” Tanuma squeezed Natsume’s shoulder slightly, looking bashful. “You just seemed kind of stressed about it, and I was a little… It was a last minute decision. I was thinking if you wanted to, we could even hang out at my place. I probably overstepped.”
‘It was one of those times his friends’ kindness and care filled him up so much he thought he would burst. Those times where he wondered how he’d found people like them after all these years. When he ached to give them even a fragment of what they’re given him.
“No…” Natsume said, hoping he didn’t sound choked up, “No, I would have liked that, thanks.”
“That’s really sweet,” Sakuragi said with a grin, resuming with wrapping Natsume’s ankle. But then her grin dropped, and she looked at Nishimura questioningly. “Does he get hurt a lot?”
“Kind of. It’s all because he’s reckless, Sensei. He doesn’t think things through!”
“A lot of time he’s trying to help someone, though,” Tanuma said hastily. “It’s not his fault, really.”
“You always go way too easy on him, Tanuma. But yeah, he’ll do things like shove a girl out of the way when a bunch of heavy boxes are falling on her and get conked in the head. He’s too good a guy—"
“Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Taki admonished, which immediately silenced Nishimura.
Sakuragi seemed to relax at this, and she finished up wrapping Natsume’s ankle. “Okay! Now, can one of you go fetch crutches from the nurse’s office?” Sakuragi took a key out of the first aid box and tossed at Nishimura, who caught it with a startled expression. Kitamoto went with him. Sasada looked around awkwardly, and then did a double take.
“Chiyo, what are you doing here?” Sasada’s hand immediately jumped to her hair, and she started twirling a lock around her finger.
The short-haired girl walked up, wiping her neck with a towel and flashing Sasada a crooked grin. “The track team lets me practice with them sometimes. Gotta train to beat you next time. What this I hear about you threatening everyone and calling them bullies?”
“I didn’t—”
“Oh, now I remember, Natsume, that’s your friend, no wonder you were all aggro!” Chiyo waved at Natsume, who waved awkwardly back. “Sorry she’s so overprotective, man. She means well.”
“You—come on!” Sasada grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragged her away. Chiyo looked unreasonably happy about this.
Sakuragi had stepped away to chat with some other students too. Taki squatted next to Natsume and Tanuma leaned closer to him.
“Was there yokai trouble?” Tanuma whispered.
Natsume shook his head. “Not really. I basically overreacted. I saw a little yokai on the track, freaked out because I thought it was dangerous, and tripped. It’s harmless, though. It was just napping. I feel pretty stupid.”
“Did anyone notice anything?”
“Yeah, they noticed I was acting really weird. Especially Coach Sakuragi. She’s…intense.”
“Oh, I should have warned you about that,” Taki sighed. “It’s really hard to keep a secret from her, especially if she thinks you’re struggling. Her heart’s in the right place, though.”
Natsume nodded. “I can tell. I feel bad that I worried her. I ended up saying some bizarre things while I was trying to throw her off. I think she thinks I’m traumatized from my childhood or something now.”
Tanuma cleared his throat and looked away. Taki studied her shoes carefully.
“Uh, what’s wrong?” Natsume asked, trying to figure out if he’s said anything strange.
“Nothing,” Taki said quickly. “Hey, what does the little yokai look like?” She looked off in the wrong direction.
“Oh, uh…kind of blob-like…” he squinted at the sleeping yokai, examining it more closely. “Oh wow, I couldn’t pick it out before but it has ears actually, Oh, they’re kind of shaped like cat ears…”
Takis gasped excitedly “Is it cute?”
“Uh…maybe ugly cute?”
“Then it’s cute,” Taki said firmly. “I wish I could see it.”
Natsume suddenly realized that it was probably for the best Taki couldn’t see yokai, otherwise she’d be terrorizing every weird looking little monster non-stop.
Tanuma looked around at the team members looping the track, as others chatted and laughed on the sidelines. “Were you having a good time with everyone? You know, before everything happened?”
“Yeah…it was nice. Everyone was really great. I feel bad I ruined things.”
“You didn’t—"
“We’re back!” Kitamoto and Nishimura arrived carrying the crutches.
A shock of pain went up Natsume’s leg like lightning when Tanuma and Sakuragi eased him onto his crutches, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. He couldn’t worry everyone even more.
“Okay, you’re good to go now,“ Sakuragi said to him. "But make sure your parents to get you checked at the hospital right away. I will be asking Ms. Fujiwara about that our weekly grocery store chats.”
Natsume nodded meekly, filled with dread at the thought of Touko’s panic and distress. At the same time, he noticed she’d called the Fujiwaras his parents…not foster parents or guardians…just parents. It kind of felt nice. Really nice.
Sasada was still talking with Chiyo, laughing and swatting at her playfully. She noticed that Natsume was up, and reluctantly pulled away, giving Chiyo’s hand a quick squeeze before she left.
Sakuragi smiled as Sasada rejoined the group, observing all of Natsume’s friends clustered around him. “Take care of him, all right?”
“Don’t worry, Sensei, we won’t let anything happen to him,” Nishimura said confidently.
“We’ve got his back!” Kitamoto assured her.
“He helps us a lot. It’s the least we can do.” Tanuma chimed in unexpectedly.
“Of course!” Sasada and Taki finished things off.
Natsume stared at the ground, hoping nobody could see the expression on his face. Taki patted him on the back.
“You’re right, you do have good friends.” Sakuragi ruffled Natsume’s hair. “Do you need me to get you a ride home? Or can your parents come get you?”
“Oh, it’s fine, I can just walk.”
“You’re seriously going to try to hobble all the way to the Fujiwaras?” Taki asked severely.
“Okay, maybe to the bus stop…”
“That’s not coming for another hour.” Sasada tapped her watch. “You can’t wait that long.”
“The Fujiwaras don’t have a car, right?” Nishimura said. “My parents have a car, and Mom should be home. I’ll call her to pick us up.” He pulled out his cellphone, glaring at it. “If I can ever get service in this stupid town…can’t believe I begged for a phone and it’s useless…”
“Nishimura, no, I don’t want to drag your Mom into this…” Natsume said in a panic. “I really can just—”
“Natsume.” Tanuma said quietly but firmly, holding out his arm in front of him before he could hobble away. Natsume’s voice died in his throat.
“My Mom would be mad at me if I didn’t call her about this” Nishimura held his phone high in the air, face screwed up in concentration.
“Oh yeah, that’s right, you get your nosiness from her,” Kitamoto said lightly.
“Man, shut up. Aha! I got some bars!” And just like that, Nishimura was on the phone with his Mom, and Natsume could do nothing to protest it.
Sakuragi laughed and started to turn away. “Great, I’ll see you—”
“Sensei, wait,” Natsume called quickly.
She stopped, looking at him questioningly.
“I just wanted I wanted to say, I did have fun here. And, well, I don’t think I can join the team but…would it be all right if I came here once in a while? Just to practice, or I could help with whatever… unless that’s…"
Sakuragi’s face split into a huge grin. “Of course, Natsume! Just having someone like you to race against is a huge help! But are you sure you–?”
Natsume nodded. “I want to.”
“Well then, do your best to heal up and we’ll look forward to seeing you.”
Nishimura got off the phone. “Mom said to wait out front. We’ll head to the bench just outside the entrance.”
Waving goodbye to Sakuragi, Natsume’s friends flanked him as he slowly made his way around the school building.
“I’m happy for you, Natsume,” Taki said.
“Yeah, that’s cool that you’ll have a place to practice!” Kitamoto agreed.
Thanks,” Natsume said. “I’m sorry I ruined the plans to get snacks and hang out…but maybe we could do it another time? Touko would probably be okay with you all coming over.”
“Of course!”
They all busied themselves planning the get-together until they reached the bench out front, though Nishimura was oddly quiet.
After Natsume sat down, his friends gave their well wishes and reminded him to check in with them after the hospital, before dispersing to walk home. Taki caught up with Sasada and as they walked away, Natsume heard her say “So you and that Chiyo girl, huh? Do I detect some romance?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sasada said primly.
“Come on, it’s me. Come over to my place and tell me all about it.
“Fiiiine, if I must.”
Natsume laughed slightly. He looked over at Nishimura to see his reaction, but for once in his life, he didn’t seem interested in what Taki was doing. He was staring stonily into the distance.
“Nishimura, is something wrong–?”
“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he said abruptly, still not really looking at him.
“Huh? What are you sorry about?” He wondered if Nishimura was still feeling guilty about yelling earlier, and was prepared to reassure him, but—
“You’re hurt because of me.”
“What? What are you even talking about?” Natsume couldn’t help but laugh but stopped when Nishimura glared at him.
“It’s because of me. You don’t like running in front of people, I know that, but then you had to because I screwed up. And when you were talking to the coach, I could tell you were nervous, I could tell you didn’t want to go. And instead of returning the favor and helping you, I pushed you to do it anyway.” He put his head in his hands. “It was such shitty thing to do.”
“Nishimura, come on, you didn’t–
“I did. You were trying to say no, you can’t pretend you weren’t.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I just…got carried away because you were so cool when you won the race! And you’re kind of down on yourself sometimes,…so I thought maybe if you joined the track team, you’d see how amazing what you can do is and people would see you’re…ugh, it was stupid.”
Natsume’s cheeks burned. “That’s.. it sounds like you were really thinking of me, Nishimura, thank you—"
“No, don’t thank me!” Nishimura said fiercely. “I wasn’t looking out for you or your feelings at all, I just decided what I wanted for you without asking you. And God, I didn’t even think about injuries!”
Natsume stared at him in bafflement. “Why would you need to think about injuries? It’s not like I need special protection. I knew what I was getting into. People get hurt in sports all the time. It’s normal.”
“No, it’s different with you.” Nishimura slammed his hands down on knees, red blotches spreading on his face. “Because when you get hurt, you downplay it or try to hide it, and if you do that in track, it can mess you up for life!” Nishimura was talking faster and faster, the words just pouring out of his mouth. “It’s dangerous because you act like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter, and that you don’t get why we all care so much, and I know it’s because you’ve been through a lot and I don’t want to pry, but it makes me so—“
He stopped short, blanching. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say all that. U-uh, sorry, just forget it, It’s none of my business…”
A lump formed in Natsume’s throat as shame welled up, hot and bitter on his tongue. “No, I’m sorry, Nishimura,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you were thinking all that, that you were worried. I never wanted to—”
“Natsume, no, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I know it’s not on purpose, I know it’s not your fault.” Nishimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is about me saying sorry, not you. I really am sorry. And I know you told Sakuragi you wanted to come back once in a while because you didn’t want to disappoint her, but you don’t have to go back there, I’ll talk to her—”
“You don’t have to talk to her.” Natsume swallowed his shame for now, determined to set things straight. “I liked the team. I really do want to come back.”
“You don’t have to pretend, I told you, don’t lie if you don’t have to—”
“Nishimura,” Natsume interjected gently, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Nishimura finally looked over at him, eyes downcast. “It made me really happy. When we won, and everyone was cheering, and I saw how excited you were…I don’t know. Running is just something I do sometimes, and I don’t think it’s special or particularly like it. But being able to help you was the first time I felt like it was something…more.” More than survival. More than something I’m forced to do.
“Really…?” Nishimura hesitated, looking disbelieving.
“Really. And I really am glad I came here. I enjoyed it, you know, until I tripped. But even then, everyone was nice and helped me. It made me want to come back.”
Nishimura stared at him for a while, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and leaned back. “Okay, well, good.” Natsume could see Nishimura’s shoulders slump as the tension drained out of him. “But I still pushed you. You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m just sorry I did it and I won’t do it again.”
“Okay, apology accepted.”
Nishimura looked startled, like he’d expected Natsume to keep fighting him on this, then his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, man.”
“You don’t have to make excuses for me either. I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you guys out when I get hurt. I’ll stop hiding it or trying to downplay it. I mean, I do want all of you to understand I…” Natsume knew better than to say he was “used to it” now, so he searched around for a less alarming but still honest way to phrase it. “I have a high pain tolerance, so sometimes it really doesn’t seem like a big deal.
“Dude, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He could tell from how Nishimura looked at him he’d heard the “I’m used to it” even though Natsume hadn’t said it out loud.
“No, I know. Look, from now on, I’ll admit when something hurts.” He looked down at his ankle, wincing. “Like my ankle really hurts right now. I don’t want to go to the hospital but I’m kind of looking forward to getting painkillers.” He looked over at Nishimura. “Did that work? Or did it just sound whiney?”
“Nah, you need to whine a little more, man.” Nishimura punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m telling you, it feels good. When I sprained my ankle a couple years ago, I whined to everyone I knew. That whine was weak. Try harder.”
“It’s…uh, agony. I…might die? Was that good.”
“You need to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.”
They both laughed. Just laughing soothed something in Natsume, his stomach unknotted, and his racing heartbeat slowed. His ankle even hurt a little less.
When the laughter settled, Natsume looked down, twisting his fingers in his lap. “Look, I know I… kind of lie and hide things as reflex a lot. But I’ve been trying to be more open with the people I care about.”
Nishimura shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, Kitamoto and I aren’t that stupid, we know there’s something going on with you, but you can take as much time as you need. I know you must have your reasons.”
“Thanks.”
Nishimura chuckled suddenly, looking past Natsume.
“Uh oh, here comes your cat. He looks mad! It’s almost like he knows something happened.”
Nyanko-sensei was indeed stomping towards them, his eyes narrowed.
“Agh, I’m really in trouble this time,” Natsume said. Nyanko-sensei jumped into his lap, making sure to throw his heavy weight around as he landed. “Oof.”
“Oh, your troubles have just begun. Don’t forget Touko!” Nishimura said cheerfully.
“Like I could.”
“I wouldn’t use the “I could die” line on her, she might believe you.”
“Amazing advice, thank you.”
Nishimura smirked. “I’d tell you to run, but, you know.”
Mmm…” Natsume said, stroking Nyanko-sensei, who was making faint, irritated noises. “That’s okay. There are some things I don’t want to run away from.
---
I hope you enjoyed this! It was way longer than I thought it would be. And I wish I could have made it funnier. But I had a fun time with my first Natsume fic!
I often think about how incredibly fit Natsume must be, yokai-induced sickliness aside. He spends 75% of his life running from yokai, through forests and mountains and all kinds of shit. Every day is a marathon for him, he arguably gets too much exercise (which might contribute to collapsing from exhaustion a lot. over exercising isn't good for you).
But imagine what a fast runner he must be. He's able to sometimes lose yokai despite their supernatural speed etc. And he's been doing this since he's a child? I just want an episode where it's time for track in gym class and everyone's expecting the kid who's constantly sick and exhausted to be the slowest one, but instead he just passes them all at warp speed. WHEN did he have time to get this in shape, isn't he always inches away from keeling over, his class in chaos. Nishimura and Kitamoto are the least surprised since they've seen him running before, but even they didn't think he was THIS fast., wow, what natural talent.
Actually, there should be a running gag where one of the many stressors Natsume faced over the years is track team coaches trying to constantly recruit him in most of the schools he goes to, so he's constantly trying to hide how fast he is because he can't be a burden and have the people he's living with PAY SPORTS EXPENSES omg :(( and also he wouldn't be able to show up for most of the meetings, so. And also he doesn't like most team sports (the real reason).
He's managed to keep it mostly under wraps in Yatsuhara, but then one day it's the sports day episode and Nishimura trips while carrying the baton as they always do and starts crying so Natsume's like "siiiiiiiigh fine don't worry Nishimura I've got this" and suddenly he's at the finish line. Thus his hellish lot of being hounded by the track coach begins anew, thanks a lot Nishimura.
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I’d really like something like billie and reader are together for a while now, everybody supports them but ONE friend of billie. they managed the situation but when billie surprisingly proposes this friend decides to talk to billie and declare her feelings, while doing it reader arrives in the room and shit hit the fan lol billie being the good fiancée we know she’ll be gets on reader side ofcccc
am i crazy? you can say so
The Confession That Almost Broke Us
Word Count: 1,130 words
Warnings: Angst, jealousy, unrequited love, emotional confrontation
a/n: okay so this is interestinggggg i love drama bro and if i was lana maaann, i would be crashing out 😭😭
You and Billie had been together for almost two years now, and life was good. You fit into her world like you’d been meant to be there all along. Billie’s friends and family had embraced you with open arms, thrilled to see her so happy and grounded. But there was always one person who seemed a little distant—Lana. She was one of Billie’s oldest friends, always hanging around on the periphery, smiling politely and keeping her comments to herself. You’d tried to shake off the weirdness between you, but sometimes, when she’d look at Billie, you couldn’t help but feel a chill of something… off.
Whenever you’d bring it up to Billie, she’d just laugh and brush it aside. “That’s just Lana being Lana,” she’d say. “She’s always been a little intense.”
You trusted Billie, so you didn’t push it. After all, no relationship is perfect, and if one friend wasn’t thrilled, you’d manage. Still, there were times when you felt Lana’s eyes on you, something guarded and closed-off, like she was holding onto a secret.
It all came to a head one night, when Billie planned a small gathering at your place to celebrate the anniversary of her first album release. Friends, family, a few close people from the industry—it was an intimate, warm night, with laughter and drinks flowing. Everyone crowded into your living room, sharing memories, laughing over stories from Billie’s early touring days, and just soaking up the celebration.
As the night wore on, Billie got quiet. She held your hand tightly, glancing around the room with a smile that seemed… different, more nervous than you were used to. Then, without warning, she stood up and faced you, holding your hand tightly. She took a deep breath, and your heart stopped as she dropped down on one knee.
The room fell silent. You could see wide-eyed smiles and gasps all around you, but all you could focus on was Billie. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and warmth, her fingers gently squeezing yours.
“Y/N,” she said, her voice shaky but steady. “You have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. Being with you… it’s like, every day, I’m the luckiest person in the world. And I can’t imagine my life without you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, popping it open to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring. “Will you marry me?”
The room burst into cheers and applause, but for you, it all faded into the background. With tears in your eyes, you nodded, overwhelmed with joy. “Yes! Of course, yes!”
Billie stood up and kissed you, pulling you close as your friends and family gathered around, congratulating you both, hugging and laughing and celebrating.
Everyone, that is, except Lana. She stood off to the side, her expression a mixture of shock and something else… pain, maybe? Her face was tight, and she didn’t join in the celebration. Billie seemed to notice, too, glancing her way with a slight frown before shaking it off and pulling you back into the moment.
The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of laughter, toasts, and shared joy. You tried to shake off the moment with Lana, chalking it up to shock or maybe just jealousy. But later that night, when Billie left the room to get something from the kitchen, Lana slipped away, following her.
Curious, you hung back, deciding to give them a moment. But then you heard hushed voices coming from the other room. Lana’s voice, choked with emotion, drifted toward you.
“Billie, I need to talk to you,” she was saying. “Please, just… listen. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I can’t anymore. I have feelings for you. I’ve always had feelings for you. I thought, maybe… one day, you’d see that I was the one who was supposed to be by your side. And now, seeing you with her, seeing you propose… I can’t take it anymore.”
There was a long, painful silence before Billie spoke, her voice low but resolute. “Lana… I’m sorry. I love you, but not in that way. You’re my friend, and you’ve always been special to me. But Y/N is the one I’m in love with. She’s the one I want to spend my life with.”
You couldn’t hold back any longer. You walked into the room, your heart pounding as Lana turned, startled to see you there. Her face flushed, and she looked away, clearly mortified. Billie’s eyes met yours, filled with concern and apology.
“Y/N,” Billie said softly, moving to your side. She took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”
Lana stammered, looking down at the floor, realizing the weight of what she’d just done. “I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I thought maybe…”
You took a deep breath, trying to find words that would hold the peace but also express your hurt. “Lana, I understand this might be hard for you. But Billie chose me. We’re building a life together.”
Lana nodded, eyes downcast, her shoulders slumping. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I’ll go.”
Without another word, she left the room, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie turned to you, her hands gentle on your face, her eyes filled with love. “You’re my everything, Y/N. No one could ever come between us.”
You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the security and warmth in her embrace. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges might come your way, Billie was yours—and you were hers.
#billie eilish blurb#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x you#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish imagine#wlw blog#wlw post#sapphic#lesbian
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Love in verses (XXVI)
Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’
Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is one of my favourites, just… some adorable stuff!
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here
Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?
Word Count: 4227
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Earl
In Sitka, because they are fond of them, People have named the seals. Every seal is named Earl because they are killed one after another by the orca, the killer whale; seal bodies tossed left and right into the air. “At least he didn’t get Earl,” someone says. And sure enough, after a time, that same friendly, bewhiskered face bobs to the surface. It’s Earl again. Well, how else are you to live except by denial, by some palatable fiction, some little song to sing while the inevitable, the black and white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling toward you out of the deep?
Louis Jenkins
The pain in your abdomen was a sensation you were used to, sadly. You recognized the pattern in the intensity, you knew it perfectly after years of suffering once a month. This month seemed to be particularly nasty though, and there was little doubt on to why. Your stress was so high these days, between your new job, your research, your career, and Frank’s bloody wedding… You were drowning, to be fair. Drowning in an ocean of emotions. You bent in front of your sink, waiting for the wave of pain to fade again, closing tightly your eyes, while the microwave beeped with the heating pad now reaching a burning temperature. You placed it on your stomach, not caring about your skin, only about the pain under it.
Damn… that was a bad month…
You stood straighter again, letting out a long and careful exhale, relaxing once more. Your head was spinning a little, but you didn’t dare to eat too much for now, your nausea was too bad and you didn’t want to end up throwing up. You settled for a bit of rice and an apple for lunch.
You were supposed to see Andrew this afternoon, but there was no way you could plan on fucking up Frank’s appointment at the tailor when it was hard to stand… At least, it was the weekend, you didn’t have to deal with work, and could spend your day being a burrito on your couch while watching TV and eating junk food.
You were supposed to shop for groceries in the morning, but you didn’t have the strength for that either, so you decided that you would get some food delivered for the rest of the weekend and would tackle the issue of not dying of starvation on Monday.
You sat down on your couch, at long last, heaving a sigh of relief. You held the heating pad against your stomach, covered yourself with a blanket and grabbed your phone while you turned on the TV.
You pressed on Andrew’s name on whatsapp while the tu-dum noise of Netflix echoed in your living room.
You heaved a sigh…
… you had forgotten tea… never mind, you were too much in pain and too tired to be bothered making some tea now that you were seated.
Back to your phone, you typed your message quickly.
Hi Andy! Sorry, but I’m not feeling well today, gonna have to cancel for this afternoon. We’ll talk about our plans next week. Hope you have a nice weekend, see you on Monday! Xx
You pressed ‘send’ and started browsing in the list of movies available on your TV screen.
Your phone lit up with Andrew’s name.
Sorry to hear that! Are you alright? Do you want me to drop you something?
You were too tired not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in your chest as you read his text.
Nothing to worry about, don’t worry.
His answer was quick to arrive.
Are you sure? You want me to drive you to a doctor or something?
You chuckled at his obvious worry. He really was too sweet…
No, I’m okay. Period being bitches, that’s all. I can handle it.
He answered with a thumbs up right under your text, right when you found Pride and Prejudice was on Netflix…
Well, it looked like your afternoon was all set.
You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have any snacks. Not even chocolate… and your kitchen was so fucking far… a whole ten steps away…
Damn you and your stupid brain.
You were surprised when you received another text from Andy.
So, what’s planned for today? Did you get your groceries this morning?
You snorted at the mere thought.
Nah. Too much in pain. Too tired to go to the kitchen and make myself tea, so imagine going outside with people?! No, thanks.
I’m gonna spend my afternoon with Mr. Darcy instead.
You waited for his answer, ignoring your TV now.
The Keira Kinghtley movie?
You sent him a thumbs up.
Will you hate me if I admit that I’ve never watched that film?
You almost dropped your phone.
YOU’VE NEVER SEEN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!
OH THAT’S IT! DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!
He sent a laughing emoji.
You’ve forgotten the dishonour on me and my cow too…
You couldn’t refrain a laugh, even though it hurt your stomach.
You don’t have a cow. But I’ll take it out on Elwood.
You could picture the grin on his face at the joke.
HOW DARE YOU! HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY!
Elwood, my son, don’t listen to the nasty lady…
You laughed again, but quickly stopped this time, the pain getting too strong.
You didn’t think as you wrote your next text.
You could drop by and watch it with me.
You reread the text and realised your mistake; your eyes grew round. You were in your old pyjamas, you hadn’t showered and had no intention to do so, your hair was a mess, you hadn’t washed your dishes…
You wanted to delete the text, but the blue symbols under it let you know that he had already read it.
Damn it!
I mean… I’m in pain, grumpy and look like trash…
So… maybe not the most pleasant way to spend your afternoon.
Feel free to refuse.
You waited for his answer, watched the dancing dots, until a text was received.
I’d love to, actually.
Besides, I am not five, I know about menstrual cycles, thank you very much…
You bit on your lips as you hesitated.
You’ve never seen me like that.
A pause. You guessed that he had rephrased his text several times.
Would that make you feel uncomfortable?
You thought about it for a second. Frank didn’t really pay attention to that part of you. It was cliché, but you knew he was making a conscious effort to acknowledge your period and how much of a burden they were to you. You saw it as him making an effort at the time. Now, you were worried Andrew would be the same, with typical disappointing male behaviour…
And yet, you didn’t care. You couldn’t find a way to care. You couldn’t imagine Andrew, out of all people, disappointing you on that. Perhaps it was naïve, you weren’t sure. Your answer was earnest anyway.
No
His answer came in a matter of seconds.
Give me forty minutes to come over then.
You smiled.
An hour then.
You laughed again at his answer.
Gobshite…
You didn’t select the movie for now and merely watched some crappy TV instead, with whatever was on.
You tried not to pay too much thought on how excited you were at the idea of Andy coming soon…
Andrew ended up ringing at your door an hour and fifteen minutes later, proving you right about his time blindness, and the thought made you smile. You had washed your dishes waiting for him, using a fifteen-minutes break from the pain to stretch your legs and attempt to look like a human being. The pain was soon back with full strength though, and you gave up on the idea to change into a proper outfit. You remained in your comfortable pyjamas, tied your hair up to hide the mess it was, and went back to suffering on the couch, the heating pad growing colder and less effective, but you were too tired to get up again.
You groaned as Andrew rang at your door, forcing yourself to stand. You couldn’t hold yourself completely straight, not with the pain in your stomach being now combined with a sharp stinging sensation in your lower back. You opened the door still, and welcomed Andrew with a genuine smile.
He was wearing his hair in a bun today, his glasses perched on his nose, and a warm smile on his lips as his gaze rested upon you. He looked gorgeous in a simple brown jacket, dark jeans and a black turtleneck. You couldn’t refrain the way your heart fluttered at the sight, nor the butterflies that were added to your painful stomach.
“Hey! God, you do look like shite,” he exclaimed, but there was worry in his frown despite the obvious teasing in his voice.
“Thanks for the compliment,” you stuck your tongue out, and he couldn’t refrain a chuckle.
He walked inside, took off his shoes and jacket, and it’s only when he set the bags on the floor to do so that you noticed them.
“What’s that?” you asked.
“Groceries.”
You looked up at him with a puzzled look.
“Jeez… if you were busy this afternoon, you should have declined!”
He laughed, and you were more puzzled than ever.
“These are for you,” he clarified, picking up the bags again.
You blinked up at him.
“For… me?”
“Yeah… you said you didn’t get any groceries this morning. Can’t let you starve! Come on, get a move on, these need to go in the fridge.”
You let him pass, followed him in your kitchen. He started to empty the two paper bags on your kitchen counter.
“I didn’t get you much, just enough to last for a couple of days. Pass the weekend. Nothing that needs fancy cooking either, don’t worry. Mostly pasta, rice, and a few vegetables and fruits. I also got some take out for tonight, so you don’t have to bother with cooking today. Chinese, hope you’re in the mood for that. And then, the obvious ice cream, crisps and chocolate combo. Oh, and I bought you this tea! My mom recommended it once for menstrual cramps to one of my cousins, and it’s apparently pretty nice, so… thought you could use that too.”
He looked up at you then, after his little babbling. He frowned at your expression though, and you noticed the shift in his demeanour: the way he shrank, bending over himself instead of standing straight, with his full height. Trying to look smaller than he was, to occupy as little space as possible. He rubbed nervously at his collarbone.
“I… I thought it would make things easier for you. I… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping… if you… sorry. Sorry…”
But he was interrupted by your arms around him; you almost tackled him with the strength, and you heard the loud huff he let out at the impact. It took him a couple of seconds to close his arms around you too, but then it felt like he was unwilling to ever let go.
“Thank you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. “That’s… so fucking sweet, Andy.”
“That’s nothing,” he tried to brush your thankfulness away, but you could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, feel that his body was relaxing once more. “I didn’t mean to overstep… I just… I just thought it would make it easier for you.”
You spotted your favourite chocolate on the table, along with some ice-cream.
“These are my favourite,” you whispered.
“I know.”
“You didn’t have to do that…”
“It’s nothing.”
You didn’t say it. You didn’t say that Frank had never done that for you. And Andrew did? When he wasn’t your boyfriend? When he didn’t even have feelings for you?
“Do you need anything else?” he asked, rubbing your back, and the caress was so soothing you were ready to cry. “Painkillers or something? I can go to the pharmacy…”
“I’ve got that covered, don’t worry. Thank you.”
“Right…”
Another cramp came breaking your embrace, you let out a groan as you held your painful stomach. You tried not to think of how your heart stumbled and missed a few beats when Andrew brushed a messy strand of your hair behind your ear.
“You really don’t look well. You should sit down.”
“I need to reheat my heating pad…”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do that, love. Sit down, okay?”
‘Love’… he had called you ‘love’… You wanted to cry…
Why were you so affected by it? It was Andy. It was Andy, not Frank, and you wanted Frank, you wanted Frank, you wanted…
He walked into the living room about 10 minutes later, carrying your heating pad under his arm, ice cream and some chocolate. He had to go back to the kitchen to fetch your two cups of tea.
“Alright… need anything else?”
You shook your head, and he settled on the sofa next to you. Readjusted the blanket so it would cover your feet. You didn’t recognise the flavour of the tea, you reckoned he had made a cup of the one his mother had recommended.
You refused to name the feeling that was spreading across your entire body, the unbearable fondness aimed at Andrew that came with it.
I want Frank, I want Frank, I want Frank…
“Alright, let’s watch Mr. Darcy getting rejected…” he grinned at you, as if he was at his happiest, as if he couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon than to watch Pride and Prejudice with you while nursing you back to health because you were on your period…
You scoffed, trying to hide the tears in your eyes by looking for the movie on Netflix again.
“He doesn’t just get rejected. They do get together at the end, you know?”
“Thanks for spoiling it all to me…”
“Wait… you told me you read the book…”
He laughed.
“I did! I was joking, like… It was a joke. I did read it. I simply haven’t watched any adaptation.”
“Wow… Oh… so you haven’t seen the one with Colin Firth either?! The BBC series?”
“Nope…” he answered, popping the ‘p’ before taking a sip of his tea.
Two teabags. As always. The detail made you smile.
“Okay, that is going to be our next activity together.”
He laughed, but didn’t contradict you, on the contrary.
“Well, I guess my next Sunday is all booked…”
“Indeed, it is!” you grinned, but your tone was too soft not to show how emotional the thought of spending another afternoon like this with Andrew made you feel.
He didn’t comment on that, though, and you were grateful for it.
He reached for your coffee table, where he had put the two sets of ice-cream and spoons, and handed you one.
Your heating pad was back on your stomach, warm and effectively soothing your cramps. You seized the opportunity to eat a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream.
You moaned at the taste.
“Andy… this is perfect, I hope you’re aware of how amazing you are.”
He chuckled, but there was something a little sad in his eyes when he looked down at his food, a tinge of melancholy. You didn’t know why.
“Bribing you with chocolate is the way to your heart, then,” he joked, clearly stirring the conversation away from himself, while pushing his glasses higher on his nose.
“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, starting the film.
You exchanged another smile, while the movie started. You didn’t realise your own movements as you scooted closer to him on the couch, and neither did he notice how he leaned towards you, until your arms were softly touching.
“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you…”
You heaved a sigh after whispering the words in sync with Mr. Darcy, clutching at your heart, burying your face further in Andrew’s shoulder.
You weren’t sure when you had ended up in Andrew’s arms, but you were now. He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders at one point, noticing how livid you had become because of the pain, how you had tried to withhold your wince but failed. And it was meant as a temporary anchor, a soothing gesture that should have lasted just a few minutes, until the pain subsided again. But when you relaxed once more, he didn’t pull away, and instead of freeing yourself from his hold, you leaned closer, sank deeper into his embrace. And now, he was resting his long fingers on your waist, while you leaned into his chest.
Which was… better not think about boundaries and friendship and professional behaviour and all those limits you were breaking.
Meanwhile, Andrew was brushing a tear away, but you spotted it before he could pretend it hadn’t happened.
“I know… I know…” you patted his chest, trying not to notice that you were touching his chest. “I cry every time too.”
“For proof,” he chuckled, brushing your tear away with his thumb, making your heart stutter and expand to the point that you wondered how it hadn’t broken any of your ribs yet.
“It’s Jane Austen’s superpower, Andy… we can do nothing against it,” you concluded before nuzzling into his chest again.
“I’ll have to agree,” he nodded.
You noticed how his breathing was a little irregular for a moment, when you shifted to be a little more comfortable in his arms, but he didn’t push you away, didn’t move at all, in fact. Instead, he waited for you to settle again, readjusted the blanket on both of you, and stared at the end of the movie. His cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. You hated the thought that crossed your mind…
There were but a couple of minutes left, it was the end: Mr. Darcy had walked across the moor already, he had declared his love and Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage. They were waiting for Elizabeth’s father. You were staring at Andrew, the feeling of your gaze on him made him look down as well, catching your eyes with his. His hazel eyes, they looked so green now, in the rather bright light of the late afternoon, and the tears he had dried just before had enhanced that colour too. Green… like leaves bathed in sunlight during the summer… you loved that shade…
You didn’t even notice when the screen went dark, when the credits started rolling. You were thinking of Andrew, of how sweet he had been all afternoon, of how handsome he looked now, how much turtlenecks suited him, how cute he looked with his glasses…
He blinked a couple of times, as if he were coming back from a reverie, and looked at the TV again. You looked at his profile, found yourself longing to run your fingers through his short beard, noticed the red tainting the brown of his hair.
“Well, that was an amazing film,” he easily admitted, bringing you back to earth.
And indeed, the story was over. Mr. Bennett had accepted their union. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. All ended well. Black screen and a list of names, printed in white pixels…
You pushed yourself out of Andrew’s arms.
Back to reality now… and in the real world, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank. You wanted Frank…
You looked away in a hurry, and trembled at the loss of contact, when Andrew finally moved his hand away from your waist.
You kept on talking about the film for a while, but eventually, Andrew checked the time.
“I should get going, let you get something to eat. And I mean… something proper. Not snacks,” he teased, standing up and taking the remnants of your various snacks with him to the kitchen.
And you had to tell yourself that mantra again. Because your heart was aching at the thought of Andrew leaving. Which was ridiculous because you would see him in two days. Which was ridiculous because he was only a friend. A colleague, even. And it was ridiculous because you didn’t want him, you wanted Frank. You loved Frank. You wanted the life you had with him back. You… you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank… You… You wanted…
“Andy?”
He reappeared, coming from the kitchen, and tilted his head a little as a silent invitation for you to speak again.
“Do… do you want to stay for dinner?”
He stared at you for a few seconds, long enough for you to start spiralling and babbling…
“Unless you need to take care of Elwood…”
“No, my parents took him to the seaside today, they’re keeping him for the night. He’s living his best life, trust me. I bet my dad is giving him all the treats he wants.”
“Or like… I mean… you’ve already spent your afternoon with me, even if I’m sick and not the best company today, and… yeah, I totally get it if you don’t want to stay, like… that’s…”
“Y/N.”
“Hmmm?”
“I’d love to stay.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I’m too much to take care of…
You merely shrugged in response, making him chuckle, clearly unaware of your thoughts.
“Well, if you’re not bored of me yet, I’d love to stay for dinner.”
You grinned.
“Grand…” you nodded, and Andrew disappeared in the kitchen again to prepare dinner.
Still, you noticed how he was smiling when he turned around, how he was blushing, too…
You ended up watching tv again after dinner. The pain wasn’t as vivid as it had been during the rest of the day, and so you were more comfortable during that part of the evening. So much so that you started dozing off, as you were watching for the nth time how Luke and Han were trying to save Leia.
You had stumbled upon a rerun of the old Star Wars movies, and settled on the nostalgic feeling of these stories to end the day. Andrew was supposed to go home after the end of the movie, once the Death Star was gone and Leia was placing medals on the heroes’ chest.
Andrew had made you laugh with his best impression of Chewbacca, and you had made him choke on his glass of water with one of your jokes and snarky remarks. It was lovely, but you were so tired you neared exhaustion by now. So, it was quite logical that you started dozing off after a while, losing tracks of the story when Han and Luke were dressed as stormtroopers.
You hadn’t noticed that your head had fallen on Andrew’s shoulder as you were falling asleep. You didn’t notice how he stopped paying attention to the movie when you did. How his heart started pounding at how adorable you looked like this. He waited for a few minutes, to see if you would stir and wake up again, but you didn’t. He stared at you for a moment longer, but you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t aware either of the longing in his gaze, of the smile on his lips as he watched how peaceful you looked in your sleep.
You blinked your eyes open again only when you felt something slipping under your knees and behind your back, felt the warmth upon which your head rested move.
“Andy?” you called in your drowsy state, still unable to understand what was happening, where you were…
“I’m here, love.”
That pet name again… were you dreaming it?
You reached up, held onto a soft fabric, and somehow, despite the fact that you had closed your eyes once more, you knew it was Andrew’s turtleneck.
“You’re falling asleep, you need to go to bed,” he said softly, his voice unbearably low and deep, it made your heart skip a few beats and warmth spread across your entire frame.
And it sounded so reassuring… so safe… He was so reassuring…
You nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. His cologne, his softener, him…
“Can I help you reach your bed? Can I do that? Is that okay?” he asked in the same caring voice, and you nodded. But then again, you would have accepted anything, for as long as you could remain in his warmth, as long as his voice came back…
You realised then that he was slipping his arms under you, it took a moment longer for your brain to register he meant to carry you.
“I can walk,” you whispered, opening your eyes again and forcing yourself to look at him.
You were too stunned when he bent down to kiss your hair to argue when he told you there was no need, that he got you, that you could close your eyes again. You obeyed, having no strength left to argue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he stood up and lifted you off the couch.
He readjusted your position, and then you were vaguely aware of moving, while he walked through your apartment. You nuzzled closer, your forehead brushing his jaw and your entire body trembled as you felt his beard against your skin.
Too soon, he was gently putting you down on your comfortable mattress, tucking you in, under your warm blanket.
You blinked your eyes open before he could leave, found his hazel eyes looking down at you. He seemed so tall like this, standing above your bed.
“Thank you, Andy. For everything.”
He smiled, gesture gentle and full of fondness.
“Sleep well, Y/N. Goodnight.”
He tucked a strand of your hair away from your face, and the brush of his fingers across your cheek made you close your eyes for good.
Your last thoughts were of him, while you heard him move away from the bed, recognized the creaking of the tiles by the door of your bedroom.
God, you wanted him so much…
#hozier#andrew hozier byrne#the hoziest#hozier x reader#hozier x you#hozier x y/n#hozier x fem!reader#hozier fanfiction#hozier fic#hozier series#hozier au#hozier professor au#professor au#series#fanfiction#fanfic#writing
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Any destiel amnesia au fic recs to soothe my gentle heart, I read one au called two worlds apart and as much fun it was I'm also heartbroken 😭 and I want to fix it with another amnesia au where they are both are very much alive in the end, also maybe with a dash of fluff and tension?
Here are a few recs with fluff and a happy ending!
Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise by stuffy_j (Explicit, 54k words)
Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process. But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.
Here We May Be Free by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 39k words)
When Dean was eleven, he saw something in the ocean: a boy with blue eyes and iridescent scales. Almost twenty years later, a spontaneous detour after a hunt brings Dean and Sam back to the town where that encounter took place. And Dean can’t shake the feeling that Castiel, the owner of the local Mermaid Museum, looks familiar…
Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles (Explicit, 66k words)
When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.
Paper Moon by robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k words)
By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true. It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.
The Same Mistake, Again by zaphodsgirl (Mature, 43k words)
One night, after watching Dean pick up yet another girl while they're out at a bar, Cas heads to the local diner. Over the years his feelings of attraction have only deepened into something more, and he wishes desperately to go back to the time before he was in love with his best friend. His wish is granted in an unexpected way: he wakes up in the hospital the next morning with broken limbs - an arm and a leg- and a fractured memory with the last four years missing.
The Stars Will Remember by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 60k words)
Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.
The Story of You and Me by the_diggler (Explicit, 54k words)
Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.
Unveil the Splendours of Your Heart by thefandomsinhalor (Mature, 68k words)
When a reporter asks Dean, a homeless man with a mysterious past, why he exclusively keeps close to the billboards and posters of a specific male model—the one Dean likes to refer to as the angel with spectacular blue eyes—in a moment of weakness, thinking it won’t change anything about his situation, Dean tells him the truth: it’s how he finds comfort and solace. Something that is difficult to come by. That is until the story reaches the ears of Castiel Novak, the model in question.
Whiskey & November by dothraki_shieldmaiden, FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 188k words)
There is a place in L.A. where the richest of the rich can make their dreams come true. For an outrageous sum, they can hire an “angel” who is programmed to be exactly what they need: a stripper, a scientist, a temporary boyfriend. Most people don’t choose to question who the angels are, or where they came from. Sam Winchester is not most people. His brother Dean went missing in L.A. two years ago, and Sam has spent all that time trying to track him down. The trail leads him to a shadowy organization known as “Heaven” that coerces people into giving up their identities and personalities so they can be reprogrammed for Heaven’s purposes. Inside Heaven, trouble is brewing: two of the angels, Whiskey and November, are beginning to break through their programming. As they fall for each other and fight to remember who they are, they discover that they have an ally already working to bring down Heaven from within.
Not really amnesia, but they think they have it:
Found Family by Dizzybunny (Explicit, 55k words)
When Alpha Captain Castiel Novak returns to the US after being rescued from three years of captivity, he is amazed to find a family he doesn’t remember living in his house. Not just any family - his omega husband and pups. Dean had been told Castiel was MIA, and probably dead. Living in Castiel’s old house, raising his own and Castiel’s pups as a single father had been difficult, but he managed. Now Castiel is back. Can he fit into the life Dean has made? Can Dean adjust to having an alpha? Does Castiel want a husband he can’t remember?
White Lies & Winter Blues by PaperAnn (Explicit, 37k words)
When Castiel drives by a car wreck, he should’ve heeded the warning, ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ He’s a nurse, it’s a record-breaking, cruel winter, and upon seeing the driver hypothermic and near-death—his instincts kick in. Cas doesn't think, he jumps into action to save the omega. Once the ambulance arrives, Castiel joins the ride. Then in the hospital room, he keeps a watchful eye over the omega's treatment and care. All under the guise of being ‘his alpha.’ Castiel’s plan was innocent, wishing for a quick recovery, followed by quicker exit. Except, he misses his shot. The omega awakes and the nurse beats Cas to the punch, with the declaration, “You’re lucky your mate found you in time!” causing all hell to break loose. There are no questions. A starry-eyed and love-struck Dean Winchester automatically believes the accident caused amnesia, that Cas is his mate. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now entangled in his own lies—still reeling from the unexpected discovery they’re true mates—Cas feels helpless. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do! Besides...playing along. Paving his road to hell, one good intention at a time.
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the neighbor
kika nazareth x reader
summary: you wanted a new friend in a new city
your heart pounds a little as you balance the plate of banana loaf and protein cookies in one hand, pausing at your neighbor’s door.
the idea of making a new friend in this massive city feels like exactly the kind of thing that could make it feel like home, but as soon as the door opens, you almost forget what you’re here for.
standing in front of you is one of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen, her dark eyes curious, framed by waves of her dark hair. she’s dressed casually, but there’s something so effortlessly confident about her that it leaves you momentarily speechless.
she blinks, looking from you to the plate in your hands.
“um, sorry– hi!” you finally manage, a little flustered but quickly recovering.
“i just moved in next door, and i thought i’d bring over a little welcome gift.”
her face lights up with a genuine smile, and the warmth in her expression melts away any nerves you might have had.
“oh my goodness, that’s so nice of you! please, come in.”
you step inside, glancing around. the space is cozy and bright, with a few unpacked boxes pushed to the side, indicating she’s just settling in too.
there’s a faint, comforting scent of vanilla and lavender in the air, and the place already feels warm, even if she hasn’t completely unpacked yet. she sets the plate on the counter and gestures toward a stool at the kitchen island.
“have a seat! i’ll get us something to drink,” she says, moving toward the fridge with a natural ease.
you sit, watching as she pours a couple of glasses of what looks like strawberry lemonade. as she hands you a glass, you take it with a grateful smile.
“thanks. i’m y/n, by the way.”
“kika,” she replies, her smile widening.
“so, y/n, what brings you to barcelona?”
you’re about to take a sip but pause, trying to put it into words.
“honestly? i’ve always had this– um– love? for the city. i visited a few years ago, and it just… clicked. i knew i wanted to live here someday. i finished university a year early, so i figured, why not now?”
she nods, looking impressed.
“that’s brave. i think a lot of people have dreams about starting fresh somewhere, but actually making it happen? that’s a whole different level. what do you do?”
“i’m a nurse. i just got a position at a clinic nearby,” you explain, and kika’s eyes widen slightly.
“a nurse? that’s amazing!” she exclaims, and you feel your cheeks warm at her enthusiasm.
you laugh, shrugging modestly.
“it’s rewarding but intense. i’ve seen it all, from broken bones to kids swallowing the craziest things like handfuls of sand or batteries.”
she grins, shaking her head.
“that’s the coolest thing, though. not everyone can handle that kind of job.”
“thanks,” you say, surprised by how easily you can talk to her.
“what about you? what do you do?”
there’s a little sparkle in her eyes as she shrugs, looking like she’s about to downplay it.
“i play football.”
“seriously?” your eyes light up.
“that’s amazing!”
kika chuckles, clearly not used to people reacting this way.
“yep. i just joined the club here.”
“oh, so you’re with a local team?” you ask, not fully understanding.
she leans forward, her voice dropping slightly as she smiles.
“barcelona. i play for fc barcelona.”
you blink, the words not quite sinking in right away.
“wait. are you serious?”
“dead serious,” she replies, laughing softly at your reaction. she pulls out her phone and flips through some pictures before holding one up, showing herself in a barcelona training kit at what looks like her first training session.
“that’s… that’s incredible,” you say, genuinely in awe.
“i mean, i’m not the biggest soccer fan, but i know enough to understand how huge that is.”
she chuckles, looking almost shy. “not a big football fan? i need to take you to a game someday– but yeah it’s a big deal, i guess,” she shrugs.
“i think being a nurse might actually be cooler.”
“absolutely not,” you say, laughing.
“you’re living the dream for so many people. besides, i only moved here a week ago, and you already sound more established than i am.”
she shrugs, clearly a little bashful but appreciative of your compliments.
“still, you’re doing something meaningful every day. you know, helping people.”
“i guess we both are, in a way,” you say, realizing you feel surprisingly comfortable around her. it’s only been a few minutes, yet you feel like you could stay here chatting with her all day.
you look around her apartment, noticing the soccer cleats on a shoe rack near the open closet door. they’re neatly placed next to a few pairs of sneakers, and you can’t help but think how fitting it is.
almost every girl in europe played football if they weren’t buried in university work, you figured, so it hadn’t been a huge surprise to hear she played. still, learning she’s actually a professional? that’s something else.
“do you live alone here?” kika asks, breaking the silence.
you nod.
“yeah, just me. it’s a bit quiet sometimes, but being in a big city… i don’t know. it just felt right.”
she leans forward, her eyes softening.
“barcelona can be a little intimidating at first, but i think you’re going to love it here. especially if we can keep having hangouts like this.”
“same here,” you say, feeling a warm buzz of excitement.
“i was kind of hoping i’d find someone cool in the building.”
she laughs, the sound filling the space with a kind of brightness.
“well, looks like you got lucky then,” she teases, nudging your arm lightly.
before you know it, your phone buzzes with an alarm, snapping you out of the moment. it’s your reminder to start getting ready for the gym, and you glance down with a sigh, realizing you have to go.
“i’d better head out,” you say, standing up reluctantly.
kika follows you to the door, and just as you’re about to leave, she surprises you with a warm hug. it catches you off guard, but you hug her back, feeling a little spark in the embrace.
as you pull back, she looks at you with a hopeful smile.
“hey, would you maybe want to grab lunch together? say, wednesday?”
“wednesday sounds perfect,” you say, feeling that warm buzz in your chest again.
“and, you know, if you ever need anything, just knock on my door.”
“you got it,” she says, grinning. “see you wednesday.”
you give her arm a light squeeze, a soft “see you,” before stepping out into the hallway.
masterlist
#kika nazareth#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#barcelona femeni#fc barcelona#esmee brugts#meazalykov#portugal
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I would disagree sliiiightly. I think this analysis is correct in that whenever Dick feels more responsible and/or guilty (the two lines are sometimes blurred, like it was when he first met Linda Park), which is always the case when he's the leader of a team, he will tend to act more serious, to be more focused, to be more intense, while taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. It can impact the view people have of him.
In fact, it is the very strain of that burden that got him to tell Bruce, in their conversation during the Quake, that he couldn't see himself leading people anymore (that didn't last long, but this conversation is significant nonetheless) like Bruce did, that not doing it anymore was a reflief because being a leader was too stressful.
But even then, Dick being more serious than he is with Bruce doesn't mean he spends his time brooding and scolding at people who don't take the job seriously. In fact, I would say it's a common misconception to say that Dick often berates people (namely Gar) who don't do their job seriously enough. In NTT, Dick would often tell Gar to can the jokes at a critical moment, but it wasn't because he thought Gar wasn't doing his job seriously - it was about Dick unable to hear people joking around when he was too worried/they had to focus because if they didn't it would be the end of their lives or the end of the world. It's not a "I will take you by the scruff to tell you to take this more seriously or to quit" kind of attitude. People often refer to "Titans #19" to underline the idea that Dick can be like that, but this moment was more about Dick being defensive and lashing out because of a perceived failure than anything else (something Dick is prone to do).
The truth is that Dick's natural instinct is to be outgoing, optimistic and to joke around. Even right when he met Kory and had to deal with multiple responsabilities (including being the leader of the Titans) he still was not a straight-faced, overly serious person. How do I know that - apart from multiple moments showing Dick joking around and smiling, even in battle ? When he started acting weirdly (after the Church of Blood's mind-control started to kick-in and he was dealing with multiple personal issues), Kory ended up comparing the man she'd met, who she described as "warm, caring and fun" with the way he was behaving.
Just look at that one time he led the Justice League as Nightwing (it starts around JLA #70 or #71, if my memory serves me right) during an absolutety terrible time : most of the Leaguers had disappeared, and there were serious, world-threatening crises to take care of. He was clearly taking things seriously (started the gig by telling everyone to put their problems aside), and was pretty insecure about his abilities, plus was very worried about where the Leaguers could be, and even then he could make jokes (told Ollie "Got you to shut up for five minutes, didn't I ?" after Olliver cursed him for having rethoric skills), got into battle smiling after a talk with Faith, and he told Kyle he would hug him if he wasn't so freaked out after Kyle's "ghost" proved who he was by saying "Young man on the flying trapeze"..
Dick does take things seriously because he caresTM, but Dick becoming very serious/very intense/borderline obsessive is never a good sign. It either means there's an incredibly big threat coming up/people have been hurt, or Dick's getting into his own head and feeling burned out/guilty/like a failure. And both can be true at once. Linda seeing Dick as "the most intense guy she's ever met" was after the Wildebeest society fiasco, after Mirage, after the failed marriage, after getting demoted as leader of the Titans, and he was on top of that blaming himself for yet something else.
Don't think Dick is "only" fun when he's with Batman, that he is "in reality" very serious. No, Dick is a fun and warm person who takes things seriously because he caresTM and has a tendency toward self-blame, but him acting serious all the time and getting really intense is a sign that something's dreadfully wrong.
One of the things I love about Nightwing is that: "yes he is the funny and nice one".... When compared to batman. By normal standard, he is pretty serious actually.
Also I like the changes of personas when he is with different groups ? Like he takes on the role of the light to Batman's darkness, the lighter one when he is with Batman and later on the Batfam.
When he is with the Titans, he is the leader and the planner and he feels responsible for the team so he is more serious.
And when he is by himself the fun part is to get to a balance in both personas ?
But regardless of the people he is with, his hyper competence and the way he has to bring people in and get people to trust him is kinda always there, and I love him.
#dick grayson#look i know we've got to fight against himbo happy-go-lucky fanon dick#but let's not make it seem like dick's not a fun person to be around#please don't make it sound like dick's just a less intense batman#the root of “overresponsible dick” is the self-blame#always the self-blame#dick's longest running relationship by faaar
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art & patrick at mark rebellato academy
[headcanons]
notes: i really enjoyed writing this because i just genuinely adore these characters and this movie so much. there's so many interesting little details and nuances there that i could just talk about forever and ever. i truly hope i did them justice here lol (also writing this made me jealous of people that are good at writing character analysis' and thinkpieces bc wow it is hard!) but yeah enjoy!
wordcount: 3.4k
they met at age 12 during their first day at the mark rebellato academy in their now shared room.
when art came in with a duffel bag (that looked comically big next to his scrawny kid body) patrick was already sitting on the bed he had claimed(the right side next to the door) all by himself, his parents didn't have a very tearful nor long goodbye as they sent their son off to boarding school.
in contrast art’s mom and grandma seemed keen to embarrass him in front of his new roommate with their cooing and hugging him goodbye.
it wasn't even like his mom and him were really all that close though. she just seemed to want to squeeze in all the moments of a loving mother-son relationship into the small segments of time she actually spent with him.
the goodbye hug and small ruffle of his hair from his grandma felt a little more genuine. embarrassing all the same as he could feel the other dark haired boy try not to crack up at the display.
"mom. please." he pleaded with her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "i’m sorry, artie, but i need to make up for all the time i'm gonna miss with you!" yeah, he bets.
a few minutes later and a tear or two from his mother they did finally leave him be. as soon as he heard the door shut though, the awkward silence enveloping the room almost made him miss them.
he threw his duffel bag on the left bed and sat down on the edge. he fidgeted with his bottom lip, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he could remember.
the brunette boy shifted on the bed so he was now facing him. his mouth pulled into a toothy grin "so you're...artie?"
art groaned and hid his head in his hands, slumped over his knees. "no, that's..just my moms nickname for me. sorry you had to see that." he says in a squeaky broken voice which didn't help the embarrassment he was already feeling.
the other boy just brushed right past all that and said "i’m patrick." and then as an afterthought, "zweig."
"uh." art leaned back up, still avoiding his gaze. it was weirdly intense. "yeah, i’m..art. um, donaldson." he said the last part like it was a question almost.
patrick began to swing his legs a little. it was clear to him that art was the quiet type even if they had just exchanged a few words so far, but luckily patrick didn't mind talking. it was something his father always hated about him. he almost talked enough for both of them which after a little while finally seemed to break the ice of art's shy exterior.
art didnt know what he thought about patrick yet. he was pretty..confident that was for sure. even a little arrogant, maybe. art scolded himself internally for being so judgemental. it was quality he hated about himself, but seemingly couldn’t get rid of.
despite all of that he had to admit that patrick was easy to talk to. there was never an uncomfortable gap in conversation with him. which art liked since those kinds of things made him want to crawl out of his skin sometimes.
that first night he spent staying up with patrick, slowly realizing how much they had in common while simultaneously being complete opposites, is one of his fondest memories and probably always will be. he never experienced another connection that felt anything even close to that.
their room wasn't too small but with the way patrick would just constantly toss his clothes wherever he pleased it seemed a lot smaller.
it's not like art was insanely neat or anything, he was still a teenage boy. patrick was just exceptionally messy.
"patrick, this shit is so gross, i told you to use the hamper."
patrick groaned, "youre such a neatfreak, fuck off."
at that response a pair of dirty boxers were thrown at his head, courtesy of art. "i don't want to see or smell your worn underwear. that doesn't make me a neatfreak."
patrick just tossed it back in art’s direction, to which the blonde quickly scurried out of the way to dodge it like his life depended on it.
"you know if tennis doesn't work out for you, you'll make a good housewife." patrick grinned mockingly.
“ha-ha.” art just rolled his eyes, stuck up his middle finger and let the door slam behind him with his racket bag slung over his shoulder.
trying to get patrick to do anything was like trying to teach a cat to do a trick without any treats. borderline impossible. so by age 15 art finally gave up.
...until he realized a year later that patrick would clean his side of the room whenever they had a girl over so..
yeah, sometimes he did lie and tell patrick that a girl was coming over just so he would clean his side of the room.
you can judge him all you want but you never had to room with patrick zweig
and after the third time that trick stopped working anyway. art was never a good liar. or maybe patrick could just call his bullshit way too easily.
they didn't fight too often, it was more like they constantly got into little tiffs
except for that time where it got so out of hand that they duct-taped a line dividing their rooms into two sides. (i know this is giving sitcom i'm sorry but tell me i'm wrong)
eventually they kind of forgot what they even fought about in the first place but they were too lazy to take the tape off of the carpet, so it just stayed on there for like 2 years till it peeled off.
like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES
they would def talk shit all the time. they were not even trying to be secret about it tbh. (see: them staring at anna crying at tashi's party)
they sat in the bleachers watching one of their classmates play a practice match
“dude, look at that forehand. it sucks.” art muttered. patrick nodded, “i know. no way she’ll even make it through the semester.” “i’ll be surprised if she makes it through this match without fracturing her wrist.” patrick snickered at art’s comment.
actual mean girls LMAO
and to be fair, they were fucking amazing at tennis, especially when they played together
so it's not like anyone could necessarily insult them back
but it also wasn't bullying or anything
they were just judgy and loved to talk shit
art had some decorum about it or felt bad about it sometimes. not patrick though.
man has no shame. never did. as art so lovingly puts it “the part of his brain that feels shame withered away a long time ago.”
art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14
he then switched to contact lenses because patrick said girls dont like guys with glasses and that they make him look nerdy
they weren't allowed to have any sort of electronics like computers or flip phones at the academy. not even mp3 players.
now obviously patrick completely ignored that rule. he had like three flip phones under his bed in case his actual one ever got taken (it did)
he also smuggled in 2 mp3 players (one was for art, patrick is so kind… he did charge him 4 dollars for it though. that rich asshole. lmao)
honestly i would like to insert here what i think they would have listened to but..i was like..a baby when they wouldve been at the academy so..feel free to drop your music headcanons in the reblogs or comments
they were only allowed one weekly call to their families from the communal landline.
neither patrick nor art were very fond of these calls so even though they weren't supposed to they would always go into the phone room together.
patricks mother always insisted on speaking in german with her son. he thought she only did it because it made her feel more connected to his father’s side of the family. not like it would fix their fucked up marriage though.
“nein, mama, ich habe mein deutsch nicht vergessen.” (no, mom, i havent forgotten my german) he sighs. art sits on the floor next to him and flicks a rubber band at him. “ja, verstanden. ja, ich weiß.” (yes, understood. yes, i know.) he rolls his eyes.
art understood a few of the basic words since patrick taught him some german after art asked how to correctly pronounce his last name.
“..bis nächste woche. tschüss.” (talk to you next week. bye.) he hung up. his mom said i love you but he knew she didn't mean it so he didn't say it back.
patrick groaned and stretched out his legs that were seemingly getting longer by the day (art secretly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him taller than patrick. right now he was still pretty short for a guy his age.)
he handed the phone to art. “she always talks so much. it's like i'm not even on the other line.” patrick scowls. art just nodded. he knew that by now.
art called his grandma but his dad picked up instead. it was okay. talking to his dad felt a little like talking to some distant uncle that he only saw once a year, “how's it going, champ?” “good.” “great.” that kinda stuff
the phone call lasted 5 minutes. he stood up and hung the phone back on the receiver.
“wanna smoke?” patrick asked already reaching for the two loose cigarettes stuffed into his jean shorts pocket.
art nodded. he didn't really like smoking, and he kind of only did it because patrick did. and whenever he did, all he could think about was how bad for him it was.
he was always pretty conscious about that kinda stuff, it was a little drilled into him by his dad who was the most adamant about art becoming a tennis player since he used to be one when he was younger.
so sugar and fats (basically anything that tasted good) were pretty much banned in the donaldson household
which kind of resulted in art subconsciously believing that anything that brought him joy or pleasure must be inherently bad for him or followed by a feeling of guilt and shame to make up for it.
needless to say art wasn't the best at indulging. he was a little jealous of how patrick never seemed to have any issue with that sort of thing.
patrick didn't care about maintaining a good diet or depriving himself of life's pleasures for the sake of tennis. he took what he wanted like life owed it to him.
maybe that's why he smoked with patrick. to try and be more like him?
also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.
most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.
at the academy they were the definition of ‘not sold separately’
if you saw one the other wasn't far behind
its not like they didn't have other friends. they did. they were pretty popular actually
but none of those friendships were anything like what art and patrick had.
especially when playing doubles.
it felt like they could communicate telepathically
patrick knew when art was going for the ball before the other team even served and vice versa.
tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.
and it felt so easy, it felt like nothing they needed to work on. their friendship was the same. it was so easy, so natural.
after about a year or so of being friends they started being in sync. literally.
they cross their legs at the same time, they pick up their rackets at the same time, they adjust their forehand grip at the same time, they walk at the same pace, they sit down the same etc etc you get it
also that isn't really a headcanon, like this is canon in the movie. and it makes me SICK that they were still in sync in 2019. after not talking for 12 years. shut up that’s some soulmate shit
now let's talk about something else that is canon…the pushed together beds.
yes!
now, i think patrick is a person that is pretty open with his body in general in terms of like being physically affectionate. or just being physical.
i don't know if art is, i think he's a little more reserved. (repressed if you will! i will!)
but patrick touching him so casually does fill a little tiny (gaping) void in him that yearns for touch.
he is a professional yearner as we all know
and patrick never had an issue satisfying those yearnings for him. (i think we saw that in the fact that patrick taught art how to jerk off ok next topic)
patrick would sling his arm around his shoulder, lay his long legs over arts lap, ruffle arts curls (“stop that, you're messing them up.” “no, i'm not they always look like this”),he would barge into their room after practice flopping his tall sweaty body on top of art to annoy him.
they were very physically affectionate it was just all under the guise of shoving and tripping each other and just general teenage boy roughhousing shenanigans. that counts as a love language to me ok!
art got used to patrick touching him very quick and even reciprocated sometimes
also i do think that sometimes patrick would smack art’s ass as a joke. lol. (that's inspired by that video of the two doubles players doing that…do you guys know what i’m talking about)
OK SO!
the beds.
they were 16. patrick suggested it. “these beds are too fucking small.” he complained, laying on his staring at the smoke detector that he had covered with a shower cap so it wouldnt detect the smoke from his cigarettes.
and to be fair…yeah. patrick stood at 1,80 cm right now and his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.
art looked up from his book which he was only reading to impress a girl he had a crush on. patrick had told him to just pretend he read it but art said that was disingenuous and he wanted to know what she liked and why she liked it.
“you know what we should do? we should push our beds together.” patrick sat up, grinning like he just had the best idea ever.
arts features twisted up in thought. “isn't that a little close?”
“nah, why, we still have our own beds. just more space.” patrick shrugged.
he glanced at their beds. “uhhh…i guess we can do that. the beds are a little cramped. although is that even allowed?” art began fidgeting with his lip like he usually did when he was in thought.
but patrick was already in the process of shoving his bed next to arts after which he let himself fall onto the two beds in a starfish position, with his gangly limbs almost stretching to every corner of the beds. “oh. great. and i’ll just curl up at the foot of the bed then?” art gave patrick a deadpan stare.
“up to you.” patrick grinned in that specific way that really irked art.
patrick did make some space for him once they actually went to sleep that night
even now they were two opposites making a whole
patrick always ran cold so he hogged all the blankets and art always ran hot so he immediately kicked them off of him as soon as he fell asleep
that only made this new pushed together beds thing even better for patrick because he now got to have his own blanket AND steal arts every night
i wouldn't say they cuddled necessarily? i think it was more just like the regular amount of physical touching that happens when you sleep in the same bed
which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys
like their legs kind of thrown over each others, art’s arm occasionally draped over patricks chest (or literally on his face. art denies every time that he does it on purpose but patrick KNOWS he does it to annoy him. he knows.)
one time art had a nightmare of being trapped under a rock only to wake up and find out that somehow patrick had rolled over in the middle of the night and was now laying COMPLETELY on top of art. right before he was about to push him off (because he was making art actively suffocate) patrick rolled over again and fell out of bed. he didn't even wake up from that. genuinely just slept on the floor that night. freak of nature that guy.
also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep
and i think it used to wake art up because he's a pretty light sleeper but eventually he just got used to it lol
when art went to stanford he never finished the last bite of anything he ate because he was so used to patrick being next to him and just stealing the last bite.
patrick really really wanted to get his ears pierced when he was 15.
so naturally he asked art to do it for him.
you know…like how they did it in the parent trap. which if you asked them is a movie that they definitely haven't seen. ( but they did see it and art cried at the twins reuniting with their parents, oops.)
unfortunately for patrick art was very very squeamish with needles at that age (i think that mellowed down the older he got but he still refused to look whenever he got vaccinations or anything like that.)
so now it was midnight, they were in their room sitting on the floor and arguing
“dude, just do it, stop being such a wuss. you're not even the one getting pierced.” patrick groaned, he had numbed his earlobe with ice but he could already feel a little bit of the feeling return to it, that's how long they had been sitting there with art squirming around because he hated even looking at the sewing needle.
“that's worse though because i have to look at the needle going in your ear!” art argued
“ well, i can't do it myself.” patrick replied.
...
“are you wearing my shirt?” art squinted at him
“stop trying to change the subject.”
“i told you to stop stealing my clothes. i don't want to do laundry that often.”
“can you focus?” patrick groaned
“dude.. okay, fine. just give me a second.” art took a deep breath.
“oh. my god. you're not performing open heart surgery.”
“shut the fuck up.”
“you shut the fuck up.”
and what do you know that response got art to get over his fear of needles for a second and stab that thing right through his best friends ear
the little high pitched yelp patrick let out in surprise at that is something art didn't let him forget about for like two weeks after
it took about another hour for art to pierce patricks second ear and eventually they managed but then like a week later patrick forgot to put his earrings in and the piercings immediately grew shut
so all that drama was for nothing!
i think art has always kind of been the type of guy to want domesticity.
i already posted about this somewhere but i kind of came to that conclusion because patrick said “he wants to spend time with his family” to tashi in the alley scene
patrick hadn’t spoken to art for like a decade at that point
and you could say it's a good guess but NO!
patrick knows art like the back of his hand and patrick knows that art has always wanted a family and how much it probably kills him to miss out on time with them due to his career at that point in time (also just throwing this out there i think art always wanted to have a daughter more than a son, like that just makes sense to me. maybe bc i think his own relationship with his dad is so distant? idk!)
so yeah
also the sauna scene where patrick says that marriage isn't what he was for
(to me) also implies that he is the opposite of art who was meant for marriage
anyway do i think that art shared his wishes for a family and marriage in the future with patrick? yes
do i think patrick jokingly made art promise to make him his best man? yeah
and furthermore do i think about the fact that patrick then had to read about arts wedding in some tabloid years later? yep!
i’m sure i could think of more in the future but that's all i've got for now! i hope this was coherent enough to enjoy because it’s not as proofread as my fics usually are lol! i just wanted to get these thoughts out there
if some of these seem familiar it might be because i took some of these from my twt!
i also have some more headcanons floating around on my tumblr that i didn't include here if you want to find those, or not, i'm not your mom!
#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig#artrick#challengers fanfic#challengers headcanons#challengers fic#ames writes~!
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The entire fandom agrees that Percy Jackson has some scary eldritch qualities that humans notice. But I think that all the demigods do, even if most of the effects are more subtle. Powerful demigods are super noticeable, but even the weakest are scary to normal people. But I like to imagine some of my favorites:
Annabeth looks at people like she's dissecting a blueprint, and nothing about them is hidden. She turns her head at odd angles, like an owl. She notices small things and goes completely still, staring, like a bird of prey who just saw a mouse. People feel unsettled by her gaze, like every weakness and vulnerability are no longer hidden.
Hazel's hair, skin and eyes seem to shine metallic when the light catches just right. Sometimes her motions are rigid and awkward, like she hadn't used her limbs for a long time, like she isn't used to having a body. Her shadow is a deeper black than it should be, is bigger than it should be, and doesn't always move with the light.
Nico's skin is sometimes almost translucent, like he is more ghost than human. You can almost see the muscle and bones beneath it. His eyes catch and hold people, so dark and deep it feels like they are falling an incredibly long distance into dark water and earth. His shadow is also too dark. Sometimes, people swear they can hear faint screaming from his shadow, like thousands of tormented souls are trapped inside.
Jason has fangs, more wolf than human. His mouth opens wider than it should, and he looks at people like he is thinking of the best way to hunt and catch and rip and tear. His eyes are too blue and he always smells like ozone. People want to bow to him as he walks by. People want to run, but instinctively know that he will chase them, and they wait, frozen, for him to pass.
Thalia, like Jason, is a hunter. Her eyes are too blue, too vivid, and she stares people down like she is already picturing them riddled with arrows. She tracks small sounds with terrifying intensity. Brushing up against her will deliver a horrible static shock, and power lines and lights flicker and buzz when she walks by.
Will's hair is too bright. His skin glows, especially at night. At first, it seems to be a sweet thing, his good nature shining though. But sometimes when people touch him, they burn. Just standing near him is too much, like standing in the direct sun on a hot summer day.
Piper's face seems to change, every time someone turns to look at her. Subtle, but someone's subconscious is screaming that this girl is different, something is wrong. Her voice trills, like a bird, when she in happy. People can't help but to follow her and when she is gone, they feel bereft. She is too beautiful, and it hurts to look, but people can't help themselves and look anyways.
Leo is always hot to the touch. His fingers and limbs feel rough and metallic, his hair curls like wire. His eyes glitter like polished coins and when he walks by, cars and computers and machines start up and move on their own, just for a moment. He runs across a busy street and the cars stop for him with no regard for what the driver is doing.
Frank doesn't move like a human. He glides, slinks, pads softly and so quietly most people don't notice him. He had an aura of command. Frank seems so normal and average, but angry or upset people look at him and know that they can't take him. Sometimes, when he is angry, people get upset and fights start in his wake.
#this applies for all demigods#not just the people i talk about#i just started writing this about specific people and didnt want to change it#demigods#percy jackson#annabeth chase#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians
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can we please get a short birthday blurb of them since we basically got a hard launch with the “precious princess” AND how u wrecked us yesterday…
As always with these little blurbs, I wrote this in ~30 minutes (and somehow finished it 10 minutes before Azzi's birthday ended) and didn't edit but hopefully y'all like it and maybe everyone will finally stop yelling at me...
This is obviously fluff but there's a shit ton of underlying sexual tension + alluding to it and also since it's me obviously a warning for swearing lol.
***
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," a soft voice sings in Azzi's ear and she can't help the soft smile it sparks on her face, "happy birthday dear my Azzi," she sleepily giggles at the possessive preposition as she feels herself being nestled into the arms of a warm body, "happy birthday to you."
"Is it midnight already?" she asks groggily, keeping her eyes shut as she breathes in the scent of all things Paige.
Honestly Azzi had tried -as she often did (and failed) the night before her birthday- staying up, had even picked a loud action movie in the hopes that the sound of it would keep her awake. But in between the feeling of her girlfriend's arms blanketed around her and the calming sound of her breathing in Azzi's ear, she'd been too comfortable to not fall asleep.
"Exactly midnight," there's a smile in Paige's voice as she presses a delicate kiss against Azzi's lips, "happy birthday baby."
Azzi finally opens her eyes to find cerulean blue eyes, gleaming with love and adoration, staring at her as Paige gently strokes her cheeks. And she's sure she'll get a thousand gifts today, from friends, from family, from Paige herself. But no present will top the one that fate itself gave her seven years ago; the girl in front of her -with her silly quirks and beautiful kindness- is Azzi's greatest treasure.
"Thank you," she whispers back, stealing another kiss.
She means to keep it chaste but Paige has other plans, pulling the younger girl flush against her body, slipping her tongue past Azzi's lips as she pushes herself on top of the brunette, grinding their hips together. Kissing Paige is all-consuming, like coming home and going on an adventure at the same time and Azzi thinks she'd be perfectly fine doing this for the whole day.
A whine escapes her lips when Paige pulls away, causing Azzi to chase her lips as she smirks, "patient baby."
"It's my birthday," Azzi pouts, "I don't have to be patient on my birthday."
Paige laughs at the childlike sulking, "you're so precious," she giggles, pinching Azzi's cheeks, "my precious princess."
"People's princess," Azzi corrects as she petulantly looks away.
Paige's eyes darken as she captures Azzi's chin between her thumb and her index finger, pulling the younger girl's face back to face her, "no, my princess."
Azzi gulps at the intensity in the older girl's eyes but she stares at Paige defiantly, "don't look at me like that if you're not going to do it."
"Look at you like what?"
"Don't look at me like you want to fuck me if you're not going to do it," they both suck in a sharp breath at the profanity.
"Silly girl," Paige shakes her head, a smug grin on her face, "of course I'm going to fuck you," she says casually ike it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Azzi's tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip and she's mesmerized by the way Paige's gaze follow the path it takes.
"What's taking you so long then?" she asks coyly, bucking her hips up slightly against the older girl's, who practically whimpers at the action and Azzi can't help but be pleased with herself. Seven years and they both still have this impact on each other; seven years later and they've become experts in known which match can start a fire between them.
And then Paige averts her gaze, facial expression morphing into something much shier as she mumbles, "wanted to give you a gift first."
Azzi raises her eyebrows, unsure why this of all things would make her girlfriend nervous. Paige has given her a plenty of gifts before and Azzi has loved all of them.
"Baby you know I'll love anything you give me right?" she says as much as she gently tries to coax Paige's face back up to meet her.
"I know," Paige says quietly, "this one just uh- it means a little more."
Azzi furrows her eyebrows as Paige slips off their bed -well really it's Paige's bed but considering Azzi sleeps in it every other night, it's basically their bed- and begins to rummage through her nightstand. The brunette sits up from her lying position when she can tell that Paige has found whatever she's looking for. She waits patiently as the blonde sucks in a deep breath before turning back towards her girlfriend.
Azzi doesn't notice the present at first, keeping her focus on giving Paige a reassuring no matter what i love you smile first. And then her gaze drifts downwards and she gasps, eyes widening at the sight of a silver infinity band in a red velvet box.
"Paige-"
"Don't freak out," Paige says in a rush, cutting off whatever Azzi was going to say, "I'm not- I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. Not that I don't want to marry you but like you know- I'm just- I'm not asking yet-"
"Paige," Azzi says again, ignoring the flutter in her stomach as she cuts the older girl's ramble off, "can I see it."
Paige nods, nervously handing over the box so Azzi can inspect it. The infinity band itself is simple, encrusted with small silver crystals and it must've cost Paige a small fortune. But its the the encryption behind it that has Azzi's eyes swelling up with tears, for the half that makes me a whole.
"Today is your birthday," Paige begins again, her voice timid and quiet, "but I think it's a little more than that. For me today's the day my other half was born. Today is the day that the person I was meant to find- the person who'd complete me- was born. And so today, is the most special in the world. Because today is the day that you were born."
Azzi's quiet for a moment, letting herself be immersed in the warmth of Paige's words and the sheer sincerity in them. It's the truth, she knows, that Paige is without a doubt her other half, the person who makes her feel complete.
"I love you," she whispers, as she hands the ring back to Paige and then holds out her hand, "put it on me?"
And she thinks if she could memorize one still image of her life, it would be this one -it would be the way Paige's eyes glow brighter than the moon outside as she eagerly fits the ring onto Azzi's ring finger.
"I love you more," the older girl whispers as she brushes her lips against Azzi's knuckles.
"Not fucking possible," Azzi shakes her head as she launches herself into Paige's lap, arms wrapping around the older girl's neck as she pulls both of them back down onto the bed, "now can you fuck me?"
Paige laughs, "you say the sweetest things to me Azzi Fudd."
"I try," Azzi smirks, pressing her lips against Paige's briefly before she pulls away, the silver ring on her hand glinting in the moonlight as she caresses her girlfriend's cheek, "and just so you know, when you do ask, the answer will always be yes."
Paige grins, pulling Azzi back down to kiss her, "happy birthday baby."
#ask#pazzi#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#never say i didn't give y'all anything#as per usual idk how i feel about this but you're not allowed to tell me if it's terrible#i'm vaguely delirious now#two “fics” in two days who thought i'd ever do that?
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