#i plan on printing this for each of my kids | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jade-jini · 1 year ago

Note

imagine dom nerd won x popular sub reader 😩

(I love my wony baby so much Ahhh also I’m sorry I took forever 😞) Smut!

Nerdy wony who might not be that talkative but is not exactly shy you know what I mean? Everybody would believe she’s a sub because look at her she’s so cute and polite but when you guys are in bed?? She shows you who’s in control and who owns you.

(And when I say dom nerd wony is cute but at the same time has a resting bitch face then what? It makes sense.)

To me wonyoung knows how to make you shy, it’s just she decides not to do it aaall the time. But when she does she has your face red and the words caught in your throat it’s so funny. Whenever people see you interacting and see how the popular y/n gets easily flustered by this nerd’s flirting and teasing they’re like??? Stick to your role ??

Wony who loves both rewarding you:

“Cmon baby, if you make me come with just your pretty mouth I’ll make sure you have a good grade in the next test” she said while passing her fingers through your hair, but let’s be honest, her pussy in your mouth was enough reward. Knowing that she meant what she said tho, that was just extra motivation.

And also punishing you:

“We studied so hard and for what, y/n?” She said while she has you bent on her lap, hand print already on your ass.

“I’m sorry mommy…”

Wonyoung spanked you a few more times, each one leaving a painfully delicious sensation. She didn’t stop until your moans became sobs, and she would’ve felt bad (not really) if it wasn’t ‘cause of how your pussy was basically dripping. Your slick making it look so shiny, the taller girl almost drooling at the view. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I’m gonna have to find a different punishment for you, I think I already turned you into a cute little pain slut.”

So a little throwback; the classic popular kid needed tutoring and the nerd who gets assigned to help you by the teacher. Wonyoung is not really fond of popular kids so she wasn’t excited about the idea, specially since she knew you and your friends could be idiots sometimes. However, she could see in your eyes that you really needed help when she looked over the professor’s shoulder, and he didn’t give her a lot of options anyway when talking about it. So she simply accepted. You two quickly agreed on going to your place after class, and you left right away to meet with your friends, leaving her confused ‘cause why at your place though? When the library was a more than good space to study but whatever, she got sht to do so she didn’t think much about it for the rest of the day.

The thing is before the whole conversation, you and your friends already thought it would be fun to tease her once she’s at your place for the “private lessons”. The plan was to see how flustered you could make her, what was her limit. She’s kinda quiet so you thought she was shy. But oh you were so wrong my bro. Wony’s quiet and serious but shy and submissive? Nu-uh. And you were gonna learn it soon since your dumb ass was also planning that, if she didn’t back off on it, you could also end up having a lot of fun with the cute nerd in your own bed. You kept that to yourself tho, daydreaming about it for the rest of the day.

And as expected by me ‘cause I’m the author but not by y/n, everytime you tried to flirt with her, she’d answer so nonchalantly. Like you were starting to wonder if you simply sucked at flirting ‘cause why couldn’t you make her blush or stutter just once??

On the other hand tho, it seemed so easy for wony to cause this reaction on you lmao

“I just think it’s weird that a pretty girl like you is single ‘cause If I was your partner I’d be jealous knowing you’re going to another g—”

“Aww you think I’m pretty huh?” She teased with that little smirk she had that she didn’t allow to reach her eyes just to seem like she couldn’t care less about it.

“I-I mean…” ugh! Wtf? You were nervous? Since when YOU get nervous? Who did she think she was to make THE y/l y/n stutter? It should be you making HER nervous! You were tired of this game already. “What I meant is that—”

“Eyes on your book, y/n.”

“But I’m—”

“Quiet, y/n.” She basically ordered in such an authoritarian tone.

“Yes ma’am.” You answered, unable to disobey her.

What you didn’t know is that through the whole day Wonyoung has been studying your behavior, from the way you’d get nervous easily to the way you’d obey her every word. She’d merely hint she was thirsty and you were already bringing her water or juice or anything you could find. She said she was cold and you gave her your jacket (which did make her heart flutter but she kept it cool). It was a nice change from the way you and your friends (mostly your friends tho you weren’t that bad:c ) would normally treat other smart, shy kids around school. Now it was her who wanted to see what were your limits. Plus, you were having a little bit of an attitude whenever you got frustrated with a question. And she doesn’t know who told you you could act like that, just because she’s technically your teacher right now and has to have patience doesn’t mean she’s gonna be no punching bag.

“Jang.” You call her, clearing your throat and doing your best to sound confident and firm “Jang I’m talking to you, I don’t understand this question.”

“On your knees.” Wonyoung said, in that nonchalant tone that turned you on you hated.

“What?” You asked, completely confused.

“On. Your. Knees.”

“How is that gonna help me with the que—” bro you stupid fr.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Wonyoung did NOT like having to repeat herself at all, and it was obvious in her eyes even when she had that mean smile in her face. So your body didn’t listen to anything but her order, like her voice was a switch that activates something in you. How could you not listen to her when it felt like that was the only reason you were brought to this earth?

“Good girl. You look so pretty down there.” She praised and you can’t remember the last time you felt this eager for more praising. And you definitely can’t recall wanting it in this position, on your knees in front of her chair. “You’d look even better if that mouth of yours that you can’t seem to keep quiet was busy in something more important than complaining.”

“Hey! I don’t talk that m- Hmm!” And without any warning she just grabbed your hair and pushed your face against her bare cunt. When did she even take her panties off?! Or did she go to school without them at all under her skirt? Jeez.

“There there, hmmm~” she quietly moaned while slowly moving your head to pleasure herself. You were not gonna lie, it was so hot how she was basically using you like that.

“You go to class with no panties? That’s such a slutty behavior you k—” you wanted to tease but she was gonna have none of it, and there she had you shutting you up with her pussy once again.

“Shut the fuck up and put that mouth to a good use. Be good and I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” She threatened, but it sounded so good so was it really a threat?

“Just like that, baby. Keep that pretty mouth right there ‘till I come in it...Hmm fuck y/n~” you heard her from the position you were in, and the beautiful sounds she was making just motivated you to keep going and to do as good as it was humanly possible. You tried grabbing her thighs to have her more steady but she slapped your hands away.

“Ah Ah! Hands behind your back. You wanna touch? You ask first.” She ordered while grabbing your neck and making you look up. Gosh being ordered like this turned you on so much, you obeyed immediately.

“Can I please touch you, mommy?” You asked in such a sweet tone but Wait. What did you just call her?

Fuck… Wonyoung thought, she wanted to hear you calling her that again and again. “Yes, yes you can baby. And you better call me that again when you’re coming for me do you hear me?” She said with the grip on your neck feeling slightly tighter, letting you know you had only one choice. You nodded eagerly, which made her giggle ‘cause you looked cute fr.

With ease, she stood you up and guided you to your couch, pushing you so you’d lie on your stomach. Wasting no time, wony undressed you entirely, the moment your ass was exposed she left a few spanks on it, making you squeak in surprise. This girl got you so wet so fast, your body has never reacted this way with any of your previous sexual partners. But Wonyoung just knows how to touch you. The way her hands travel over your skin. The way her mouth tastes you, making you moan her name and the title that escaped your lips earlier, asking her for more. Asking her to ruin you.

“You’re so needy. One would assume such a popular pretty girl gets fucked everyday if she wants to huh?” You heard, followed by a spank that got a loud high pitch noise from the back of your throat, making her laugh at your reaction and giving you another one “your pussy looks so pretty, exposed like this for me.” She said before bringing two fingers inside it, while her mouth was busy torturing your clit. You were a whining mess, it felt so good and god you were feeling it everywhere. The pleasure taking over you. Wony’s fingers reaching as deep as she could, and so fast turning your brain into nothing. She got you drooling over your own shirt that was resting under your head “m-mommy…Hmm gonna come… p-please~” you left in a moan, barely understandable.

“Ask properly, and I’ll let you. You sound like an idiot right now. Speak properly, baby.” The taller girl said, and it took a lot from you to able to recollect your thoughts, ‘cause they were all just so full of her.

“Please.. please mommy- fuck ~ please let me come..” you begged while sobbing, it all felt too good, and you were so close that the mere idea of not being allowed to come had you tearing up a little bit. But Wony wasn’t gonna be that cruel.

“Good girl.” She whispered right next to your ear and you had to bite your lip to contain a cry from escaping you. She started fucking you faster, focusing more on stimulating your clit. Her other hand kneading and caressing your ass. You let yourself go and came in her mouth, moaning so loud and sobbing, not being able to say any word, just pure sounds of pleasure. The same ones she did (tho hers were lower) as she tasted your orgasm in her tongue and felt you tighten around her fingers.

“That was.. so good wony..” you said out of breath, trying to look back to her, but she made you lie down again, surprising you.

“Was? What do you mean ‘was’?” You heard before feeling her teasing your cunt with her fingers again. Oh.

———

The next morning on your way to class, your legs were still feeling sore so when your friends saw you they clearly noticed the way you were complaining while walking, as if you spent the night working out.

“Jeez y/n, what happened to you?” One of your friends asked. Before you could answer, Wonyoung who was going down the stairs next to you stopped right next to you and gave you a warning with her eyes that made you feel a shiver going down your spine. You gulped and could only answer your friends with “I.. fell?” To which she gave you a little smirk.

“See you after class for our second lesson?” She said, not asking but just letting you know she already decided your plans and gosh she’s so hot dhhdkdfj- sorry. You could just nod before seeing her walking away to her advanced class. Your friends looked at you with shocked faces ‘cause Wtf was all that? But you ignore them and go to your class as well.

Eventually your grades did get better tho, the perks of giving a dom nerd good pussy.

Conclusion: it’s always the quiet nerds lol.

(Also if you like nerd wony go read this one that @pupyuj wrote ‘cause I love it <3)

#ive x reader #ive scenarios #ive imagines #ive smut #ive wonyoung #Ive Wonyoung x reader #Dom Wonyoung #Nerd Wonyoung #dom Wonyoung x reader #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #ive x y/n #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung smut

973 notes · View notes

stray-cat-with-internet-access · 9 months ago

Text

Dad!John Price

tags: age difference (mid 40s-mid 20s), fluff, pregnancy stuff

🌸The thought of having your own kid is well seated in his head, but is a bit insecure at first, he thinks his job is already dangerous enough for you, let alone a family. The sadness in your eyes when he asked you to wait a few more years breaks his heart, but thinks is the best for both of you

🌸But the time keep pasing and he noticed new silver hairs in the sides of his head, the proof in the flesh that he can´t keep letting his life go out of fear

🌸He handed you a printed copy of your appointment to the fertility clinic one sunday afternoon, making you cry and jump on his lap, kissing each other

🌸This is him preparing the soil for his retirement, a warm home to come back to

🌸Super focused, he is keeping folders of your medical documents, digital copies and spend the nights reading articles in his phone

🌸You send him a photo of the positive pregnancy test while he is at work, making him shake and slap Gaz shoulder. The whole team goes to the closest pub that night to celebrate

🌸Spend his days on leave in your garage, crafting a little crib. He already bought a big, fancy one, but something about making this with his own hands for his child fill him with pride

🌸Glued to you the last trimester, rubs your back, bring you tea, force you to rely on him

"John, I think I´m very capable of go peeing by myself"

"Shush"

🌸Super stressed when you started labor, threatens doctors and pace like an angry bear outside your hospital room

🌸Completely over the moon when your baby boy finally arrived. He is pressing his forehead to yours and thanking you for this beautiful gift

🌸The nights at home he is beside you in bed, shirtless with the newborn resting on his chest, one hand holding the little one, the other resting on your thigh

🌸Get a vasectomy a few months later, he knows he is not getting any younger, wants to dedicate to his spouse and his perfect little cub

🌸Plans to fill for his retirement when the boy turns 5 and move you all to the outskirts

Sorry if I had mistakes! English is not my first language and I´m sleep deprived

228 notes · View notes

dorcas4meadowes · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii!!! This is my first time really leaving a request but imagine being like best friends with Clarisse but also dating Luke and her dating Chris bc like gossiping about them, double dates, the entire dynamic would be fire

Double Dates

Pairing - Luke Castellan x reader!Zeus

Warning - alcohol, light fighting, kisses

W/c - 4k

(Pretend weather affects inside chb, this sorta drags on, but i plan to make a pt 2 with more double date energy)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The woods were decorated with pinecones and screams.

Misery and Kleos sounded almost indecipherable, so you didn’t attempt to assist or applaud the shrieks. The atmosphere held both despair and glory, the bizarre feeling almost painful since you gained neither.

You hesitated to continue with Clarisse’s order to stay on the outskirts of the forest. The only fight you met from a handful of Demeter kids who were focused on decaying vegetation, the win was disappointing.

The path you trailed left a strange configuration, the ground exposing your depleted performance through the snow underfoot, many prints leading in circles. You trudged through the silent woodland and listened to the creak of tree limbs and distant bird chatter, all unnerving through the stillness.

Your breath rose like smoke as you watched it spiral above you to the sky which was darkened with clouds. The dim light made it difficult for you while you cautiously stepped over broken logs, your path only met with an end of secrecy and the border rive, which had frozen over delicately.

Perhaps you were hoping for chaos, so when a sudden sound of leaves rustled it startled your intrigue. The disturbance led you to hit your spear against the blanketed ground, the impact causing an abrupt burst of energy to illuminate the forest's demeanour and electrify your weapon.

You held it out in front of you, your head swiftly turning to a figure which emerged from the shade of a pine.

“Look, I don't want to hurt you”.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's concern, “I have no worries Castellan”.

You both remained still for a few seconds, studying each other's stance and hold, his mere presence made you aware of your entire body. You took a swift inhale before you stepped in his direction. You went first, but his move to block your attack was fluid and precise. Each defend and bout almost choreographed.

You obstructed his hit and retaliated quickly which he caught with the edge of his blade. He began to step closer and push your spear and so it held above you, his lips toying with his stupid smirk.

With one arm he kept both your weapons up and with his other he took the helmet from his head and shook out his sweaty curls and pushed yours away as well.

But as he challenged you with one hand his grip depleted, beginning to shake from the impulses which your weapon emitted. He was strong, but not enough. He kept nearing closer, your arms drifting further above you, his nose just brushing against yours.

“You forfeit?" he whispered, his lips grazing against yours with each word.

He expected a weak response - words to fuel his glory - but instead a soft kiss was pressed to his lips, followed by a quick pull away from your weapon and leap of your body as he staggered forward. Your spear pushed against his armour which had him on the ground. With a swift kick you pushed the sword out of his disorientated hands, and stood in front of him with a hand on your hip, your other on your weapon.

“On your knees Castellan?”, your head tilted to one side, his lips opened to speak, but they closed when a racing body leapt across the ice another behind it eagerly.

Clarisse screamed words which were inaudible, but with the blue flag crumpled in her hands and a victorious smile etched onto her face, you took no time in cheering, the conch matching your excitement.

Chris stood beside her panting and flipped you off, you gratefully responded with your finger before turning back to your boyfriend who’s shoulder still had a twitch from the electricity.

“You surrender?” you asked, leaning down to him a little to emphasise your poise.

“Never”.

Unexpectedly a pile of snow was launched at your chest plate causing sleet to fall down your back and into your bra, the rush of cool making you shriek. You immediately began to throw whatever was in reach at Luke, his laughs only excelling.

You didn't exactly know when you toppled into the snow, but when you couldn’t feel your fingers and your clothes were drenched, the cold only emphasised your desire for a shower.

The showers never afforded much privacy, even though your body remained a mere suggestion - apart from your shoulders - you found discomfort in knowing you could catch someone's gaze at any moment. So you waited promptly until the stalls were vacant, except for friends you could tolerate.

It was almost an established procedure that Luke would shower prior to you, then hold you in company while you did so.

His head leant against the wooden timbers, his curls dampened by the rising steam, his barely audible words competing against the chorus of water. Some days he would join you, but you wanted soap to drip trace your body instead of his hands.

It was rare you could come by hot water, so when the infrequent heat left the tap you merged yourself in the soothing rhythm. The drips were like summer rain and fell onto your skin in all the right ways.

“Baby, it would be nice to get out,” Luke said and continued his last sentence.

“We went out when the twins threw that party”.

“That was months ago, plus Clarisse is going”, his response was inattentive as he grew amused by the veins on his own arm, flexing mindlessly.

“Is she?” you asked.

“She’s going if you’re going, and Chris is going if she goes”.

“Couldn’t we watch a movie instead? I saw a new trailer, Jennifer's body. I think it’s about a cheerleader or something”.

“We do that every night”.

“How long do you plan on staying at this thing for?” you asked, as a bar of soap slipped from your hands.

“A few hours maybe”.

“I have to watch the Apollo kids get sloppy drunk for a few hours!”

“You don’t have to, Beauregard will be there and you can dance with her, and for one i’ll be there”.

You turned the shower off and asked Luke to hand you your towel which wrapped around your steam obscured body.

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

“You will!”

“Maybe”.

You knew you would go, but you found pleasure in listening to him beg.

_____

The dining pavilion echoed with conflicting chatter and a vengeful distraction on Herme's table.

“Uno!” Clarisse screamed, oblivious to the trembling campers who caught her adrenaline shattering gaze.

“You can’t end the game on a colour change”, Luke enlightened her.

“Fuck you i won”.

“He’s just mad we won to capture the flag” you spoke, looking in the direction of Chris who flicked a card at your forehead.

“We felt bad for always beating you, it was more of a let”.

“Your excuses numb me Rodrigues” you mocked, reshuffling the cards which were sprawled over the table. You push each set on the wood and begin another fretting game, watching everybody’s twitching features.

Pick up two

Pick up four

“Suck it Castellan!” Clarisse shrieked, watching his slowed response.

“Just pick up baby, you aren’t always going to be on top” you teasingly spoke, leaning over and patting his hand.

“I -” he gave up on his sentence and picked up 16 cards to his already enormous hand.

You won this round, Chris next and then Clarisse again, but uno could only progress for so many rounds before it became too repetitive.

“Let’s make this interesting, the winner gets a week off chores” Chris suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m in, the stables stink like ass” you said, placing your stack in the middle for Clarisse to shuffle.

“I’m down” she agreed, your boyfriend’s smile only answering your question.

Once the challenge was set the game had become theatrical; Clarisse’s screams, Luke’s laughs and both you and Chris’ unspoken glances.

As the game advances Chris’ hands grew to contain an abundance of cards, the absurd sheets all falling when Luke yelled.

“Uno hah!” the final card hit the table and you couldn’t help, but groan.

“Watch your back Castellan” Clarrisse snarled, abruptly standing up to ease her steam. “Yeah Luke, wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you” you said, kissing him on the cheek then leaving back to cabin 3, with the promise of meeting him within an hour.

The Zeus cabin was consistently desolate, the stale air defeating the little number of inhabitants. The interior was a constant reminder of the gods' disinterest in your life, the vacant bunk beds and unclaimed spaces proved that you were an anomaly, but mostly a hazard.

The empty cabin smelt of pine and leather and despite your heavy usage of perfume, the lingering scent never seemed to fade. It was almost as if it were trying to silence your existence.

There wasn't the hustle or rush in your cabin as many others had to experience, only the hum of electricity and the quiet reflection from the open sky.

Despite your initial hushed greeting, your sister brought relief to the quiet, her steady presence in your life reassuring your every move. Thalia had grown from your half sibling to becoming your chosen family, you were tied together by blood, but her fondness for you never felt transactional, she made you feel appreciated for simply living. The only adversity with your sister's company is the loose chops of hair that would float around your cabin from her irrational trims, but ignoring the material difficulties - and her slight narcissism - you loved her, you always would. So did your friends, Clarisse admired her and they shared an unspoken respect for each other, she didn’t mind Chris or Silena and Luke were hers before he was yours. She was not jealous of your relationship, but she felt that she was losing him to you, the one person she could trust to not complicate her life, taking who meant most to her.

The addition of your companions and hers meant that your docile cabin was filled with bursts of spirit once every so often, but when the sky darkened and the temperature plummeted it was just Thalia and you, her words gentle and actions soft. You were the one person who she would protect from the brutality of the world, the one person she felt vulnerable with.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Thalia asked, she gently hit the top of your head and moved towards the door with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Mhm'' you agreed, watching her leave. Something that would never change would be her avoidance of goodbyes.

The air that gasped at Thalia’s departure was swiftly content with the arrival of Clarisse, your friend perched on the edge of your bed fastening a clasp of gold around her neck.

“You drinking tonight?” she asked.

“If I plan to leave with my sanity, then yes” you replied, shrugging your jacket over your top. The camp shirts were comfortable, but they didn’t exactly exude “lets get drunk and make mistakes”, so events usually held a casual attire.

She made a low hum, “I could use a break”.

“I heard Beau’s gonna be there tonight”, you plucked at an invisible string that entwined Silena and Clarisse. “I know, I heard she’s hooking up with Beckendorf”.

“Heard you finally hooked up with Rodrigues”, you teased at the new found information that she shared over a piece of toast. She threw a shoe at the back of your chair and you turned with a grin. “How is that going?”

“Yes” she mumbled.

“Yes?”

“He’s shit but he’s nice”.

“He’ll get better, they usually do” you smiled.

“Please don’t tell me you're referring to Castellan”.

“No, he was always a good shag”.

“Block my ears please”.

“You asked”.

“I did not!” she defended, swiping lipstick from your desk.

“Where do you go anyways?” you questioned, you were eager for the answer since you never found any privacy. Whether you were stealing kisses behind stone sculptures or bent over in your dark cabin you always seemed to get interupted, any mood which arose immediately decreasing.

She replied with one word “Showers”.

“You ever get caught?”

“Twice, but people learn to piss off pretty quickly”.

You caught her eye in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh, because in a matter of moments you were immersed amongst the Dionysus cabin which held sweaty bodies and flashing lights, Clarisse leaving your side swiftly to down shots which piled up seamlessly.

On either side of the floor stood pulsating stereos that only added to the distraught atmosphere. The cabin scraped up surprisingly well from its usual mess, but the strung lights and table of drinks could not pull away from the crowds.

These parties always proved to be tedious.

Nobody could hold their liquor and the room was swarmed with drunken mistakes. Within ten minutes you had observed your friends humiliate themselves willingly and drag one another into private corners, everybody seemed eager to confess their secrets which you listened to absently, their breath laced with cheap alcohol.

Many of their vicarious actions humbling any pedestal you placed them on.

“No you listen to me, i - i know it’s dumb, but he has nice eyebrows” Silena slurred, hovering over you.

“Beau you don’t know him” you explained, trying to impede your words into her intoxicated mind.

“But I love him!” she exclaimed rather loudly.

“How about we get you back to your sisters” you suggested, setting your drink on the table beside you. You hitched her arm over your shoulders and searched for Drew who always seemed to be alert, letting her fall into her arms.

“Maybe you can stop baby sitting and enjoy yourself”.

You turned to your boyfriend, “perhaps i could if this cabin weren’t filled with idiots”.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Luke asked as he slid his hand through yours.

“Yes”.

“You will never have fun if you don’t let yourself”.

“I never will then”.

“Not with that attitude”.

“Your personality fatigues me”, you pestered and rolled your eyes.

“Loose some layers and come dance with me” he suggested, taking a few steps towards you.

“It’s four degrees outside”.

“Not in here it’s not” he said, his fingers slipping behind the neck of your jumper and trailing down so the zip fell with each moment.

You wouldn’t admit to it, but his touch sent sparks down your spine and any excuse for him to be touching you, you would both utilise.

He leant closer and brushed his lips against your ear, placing your jacket over his arm.

“I love these little lace up tops'”, he whispered, his words fighting against the rising voice of Shakira. His hands toyed with the strings of your shirt before pulling you towards the crowd of campers whose arms were strewn above their heads.

Lucky you were born that far away so

We could both make fun of distance

You shifted weight on your feet and loosened a little to “wherever whenever”, stifling a laugh as Luke spins you around and into his arms, attempting to ease your rigor. You didn’t want to enjoy yourself, but you couldn’t help but find a steady sway in your hips as Luke guided them mindlessly, his hands on the bare skin of your back.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

Can't you see? I'm at your feet

The flashing array of lights only made it more tempting to seek out comfort in Luke’s body, the blue hue making him appear angelic which wasn't far from the truth.

Whenever, wherever

We're meant to be together

From the sheer number of people dancing your bodies were pushed together, his hands tight against your ass to keep you close. His placement was intentional so when he turned you they could travel to your hips with ease. You skimmed your body against his, his lips peppering small kisses along your neck as you pressed yourself further into him.

Lucky that my lips not only mumble

They spill kisses like a fountain

You let your head rest against him as he nips below your ear, his fingers pressing into your hips firmly, you were sure you were branded. You couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly blissful (horny is the right word) allowing his hands to turn you so you features eagerly brushed against one another.

His head drops to the space between your neck and shoulders while a hand travels up your side, one still swaying you gently. His fingers fold under the hem of your top and progress to cup your breast in his hands, his fingers pressing into the fat. It doesn’t take you long to assist his grip back to your waist, but once he hangs loosely around your middle you feel as if you know all there is to Luke Castellan, the soft curls only the start to him.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

At your feet, I'm at your feet

You didn’t care considerably for the music, but it seemed to completely cease when a hand landed on your shoulder, trying to tug you away from your boyfriend. It took little time for Luke to notice the hand and for you to turn, to only have your nerves ease when the grip belonged to Clarisse who drunkenly pulled you close to her, laughing, holding you affectionately, not caring for Luke’s groans from the loss of you.

After a few sweaty dances both you and Chris found solace in the contents of red solo cups, both attempting to empty the liquor fastest. You threw the liquor down your neck ignoring the burn, watching him mirror your movements, but even then, that didn't last too long, your body - with the assistance of Silena’s hands - were being pulled over the people who were gathered around the carpeted floor in a circle.

Chris was to your left in and you both looked for one another for an answer, but when a bottle was placed in the middle of the group by a child of Hecate, it gave you your response.

They went first, spinning the empty bottle and met a child of Hermes in the centre for a quick snog before it spun again and spun until it came in the hands of Luke.

He leant forward and breathlessly spun it swiftly. You watched it pass you and Clarisse and anybody you would be comfortable for your boyfriend to kiss until it landed on a pretty girl from the Hephaestus cabin. She smiled as she leant forward and so did Luke,

Moments before he planted a generous kiss on her lips his eyes met yours for a split second then closed. The more she explored his lips the more her hands wandered, pulling at a few curls at the nape of his neck, touring with the strands which were yours.

You could feel yourself blink and by the time they pulled away giggles slipped out of the girls lips and you felt like you were going to gag. You rolled your eyes at their persistence, but you let your gaze linger on the girl who seemed cheerful.

The glass continued to spin, people meeting in the middle numerous times until it caught at the carpet facing your knees. You looked up to the person you were soon to meet and when you did your lips tugged into a grin.

Enzo you believed his name to be, a son of Aphrodite, very renowned for his soft lips and gentle touch, that which you were eager to know. You could admire one's beauty, but you felt no need to act on your impressions, so when you could - free of charge - you would.

Enzo dark curls fell over his eyes, framing his face carefully as he neared closer to you, his lips instantly falling onto yours when his hand snaked around your neck. He moved differently - his lips that it - it was nothing like Luke. Enzo was harsh and he had no hesitation as if pouring his soul through the press, you felt like you had known him in several languages and multiple lifetimes.

The room blurred a little after you pulled away, a swift last kiss pressed to your cheek as if bidding his farewell. You smiled at his warmth and then moved to your seat, watching the already spinning bottle at the hand of Silena.

“Had fun?” Chris whispered to you, watching a daughter of Iris pull Silena into a messy snog.

“I suppose so”.

“My brother looks riveted,” he said, his tone teasing.

“When does he not” you replied, turning to his impending gaze on you.

“What” you mouthed.

“Nothing,” he mused, it wasn’t nothing, but you were too intoxicated off of your dances and a few drinks to be concerned.

When the game disbanded and were relocated it took very little to persuade you of much, so when the offer to play just dance arose you had no hesitation in amusing yourself with the game, Clarisse and Chris beside you.

Out of the humming centre lay a few old couches which are where you flickered through songs on a wii and paused at “wannabe” by the spice girls.

The first few beats of the song played and you instantly began mirroring the characters on the screen, mimicking the choreography.

You carelessly moved your body and couldn’t help, but laugh at Chris who was never graced with the ability of rhythm. You danced and allowed yourself to disregard any priorities you held, letting them drip off of you like the sweat that beaded on your lower back.

“Hey Y/n!” Clarisse yelled over the chatter and music.

“Yeah?” you responded, breathing heavily as you danced the last few moments of the song before falling against the couches behind you.

“Call me a daughter of Hermes, but I'd love to travel in your bra”.

You giggled at the joke, “call me a son-”

“Son?” “- of Poseidon, but there’s a tsunami forming between my thighs” you laughed, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Call me Kronos’ but i would love to eat you up” Chris teased as he slumped next to Clarisse snaking an arm around her.

“Oh um” you stirred, thinking of a comeback.

“Maybe I am the daughter of Athena, because I would love to strategize how to open your legs,” Clarrisse slurred, making you breathless from her stupid jokes.

You leant into her side, her arms around you and Chris, she had two hands after all, but so did you, your grasp empty of Luke.

“Where’s Luke?” you said, not caring of your volume, recalling what felt missing.

“Probably moping”.

“About what?”

“Global warming i don’t know” Chris confessed, causing you to push yourself from the couch and to search for your lost boy.

Your head buzzed and your limbs ached, not particularly from movement, but lack off. You staggered through the room and allowed yourself to take your time as you lazily surveyed the following in front of you. Mist glazed your sight, so every step felt like a game of charades, hoping you would not fall against the wrong body.

“Luke” your voice croaked, pulling a hand to your mouth when a hiccup left your lips. “Luke” you repeated, your legs weak under you as you trailed through the bodies and dropped possessions.

“Need help angel?”

You were close to the door when a boy from the Apollo cabin steadied you, “I - i where’s Luke?”

“He’s outside I believe”.

“Thank you soldier” you saluted the blonde.

“You sure you’re ok getting there”.

“Impertantly” you slurred pulling away from him and using the door frame to push yourself out of the hustle with a groan. “Luke” you slurred, the last letters elongating, “hide and seek, i see”. You passively rubbed at your eye with your hand, your make up cascading across your cheek with each swipe. “It’s ok, I'm not going to eat you”.

Your words fell like your body did against a plush landing of greenery. “You’re not Luke'', you hit the grass and recoiled as shocks sent through your fingers and sparks threatened to spread against the green. “I hate you” you spat, letting the grey fog in the air drag a body towards you.

The voice spoke, but you couldn’t decipher their words, but their touch, it was one you would recognise blindly. Luke was not immune to your sparks, but found pleasure in the shocks as it proved your consciousness. He ran his hands across your sweaty forehead and did not flinch as you reached to pull yourself to him, melting in his arms.

“Let's get you to your bed hm?”

Luke indulged in alcohol but knew his limits, unlike you who drank till senseless.

“I’m not tired” you whined, morosing with the thought of your bed.

“How about a walk to take the edge off”.

“No” you denied his other request.

“What do you want then”.

“You”.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

this was sitting in my drafts and i probably will re write <3

@prettyinsatiable @daisydark @creamsweets @auttumnsayshi @ashr0 @y0urm0m12 @2hiigh2cry @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagines #luke pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #riawrites

185 notes · View notes

backtothefanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Super Dad | Dad!Peter Imagine

Summary: Peter fell asleep working on the kids science homework.

Length: Short

Warnings: none, this is mostly fluff

A/N: Just another one of those quick imagines before I sleep.

They had come home with the assignment on Friday. They had exited the school and run straight into your arms all giggles and smiles, sheets of paper in their tiny hands, blowing in the late autumn breeze.

“What have you got there bug?” You asked as your youngest waved the piece of paper, too large for her hands, towards your face.

“It’s science week next week!” She squealed excited, little fists punching the air once you’d taken the piece of paper from her.

“Each grade has an assigned topic.” Your eldest added as she handed over her own assignment to you.

“Well, it looks like we are going to be having a very busy weekend.”

Anna, your youngest’s, project was a model solar system. Your older daughter, Maria, had to do a project on renewable energy. She insisted that she wanted to make a working water mill, but her Father (knowing he’d end up being the one to do most of, if not all of the work anyway) insisted she make a wind mill.

Safe to say Peter had been right. The girls gave up on their projects halfway through the Saturday and with a trip to Aunt May’s planned on Sunday afternoon, your Sunday night had been relegated to finishing off the girls projects, ready for the following morning.

You had put the girls to bed before returning to help finish painting the tiny paper mache planets for Anna’s solar system. You turned the TV on with the volume low, the sounds of Friends re-runs acting as background noise as you both did the work.

You couldn’t help but get fixated every now and again on your husband’s concentration face. The way he squinted his eyes and quirked his lip. Every now and again he’d lift his glasses slightly and survey his work. When he got the motor mechanism for the windmill working he looked so proud of himself and it made your chest swell.

“Right, that’s the last planet painted.” You announced as you placed the cocktail stick attached to it in a piece of foam to be left to dry.

You grabbed your mug and took a sip of your drink. When you placed it back down you realised just how covered in paint you had become as sticky paint finger prints covered the once white mug. “I think I’m gonna go take a bath and salvage what’s left of my weekend.” You announce as you get up.

“Huh?” Peter says as he suddenly pulls his focus away from the job at hand, now that you’re standing. “Uh, yeah, okay.” He quickly follows as his delay in processing your words finally catches up with itself.

You smile as you give him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t be too much longer with that.” You say giving him a quick kiss before you leave the room.

You end up spending nearly an hour in the bath and then another half an hour after that pampering yourself with a full facial before climbing into your pyjamas and reading for a little bit. When it’s near midnight and Peter still hasn’t started making his way to bed, you reluctantly get yourself out from under the nice warm covers to look for him.

When you make it back out to the main area of your apartment his head is resting on his arm on the dining room table. Both projects are completed in front of him. They look perfect, your girls are going to be so happy when they see them.

“Hey.” You say softly as you shake him awake.

“Hnngggg.” He groans as he slowly rouses.

“Hey super dad.” You coo quietly to him.

“Hey.” He says back sleepily,

“You know, I think our bed is much more comfortable than the dining room table.” You say softly.

“But then who would protect my masterpieces.” He jokes.

“Come on Spider Boy, I think they’ll survive the night just being in our apartment.”

“You promise.” He continues to sleepily play along.

“I promise.” You say holding your pinky out to him and he lazily hooks it with his own. “Okay, come on.” You say helping him up and escorting him to bed.

The following morning there’s a squeal and a crash that makes the two of you race from your bed. When you get out to the dining table where your youngest now lies in a heap on the floor, surrounded by her project, rubbing at her knee, you know you’ve been too presumptuous.

“Survive the night, eh” you hear your husband mutter beside you before he’s bending down to attend to his little girl.

“Hey bug, what happened?” Peter says gently but you know from his tone of voice he’s trying with all his might not to be irritated by the fact his hard work last night has been damaged already.

“I went to grab it so I could look at it and I slipped.”

“It’s okay.” You say as you begin to pick up the pieces of the solar system to be put back together.

“Well, are you okay?” Peter checks in with her,

“Yeah, I just hit my knee.” She replies.

“Do you need Daddy to kiss it better?”

Peter feels you kick him in the side gently. He knows how much of an affect that word has on you and he fights to hold in his grin so he can keep tending to his daughter instead.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve got it.” She says before getting up to come and join you as you sit at the table and start glueing the planets back into place.

“Come on bug, how about some breakfast.” Peter encourages her towards the kitchen and away from you and the project before she does it any more harm.

When he brings you over a bowl of your favourite cereal moments later you hear him say, “Bet you’re wishing you’d left me to sleep on the dining room table to protect them now, eh?”

“Hey, I said they’d survive the night and they did.” You smile up at him. “Technically nothing happened to them until the morning, after the sun was up.” You wise crack back.

“Yeah?” He jokes,

“Yeah!” You sass back.

“Well I’m sure you would have felt differently if it was you who had done 80% of the work.”

“Hey, I painted the planets.” You reply with mock offence.

“Fine.” He concedes with a sigh. “75%.”

“Thank you very much.” You smile at him in response before there’s a cry of “Daaadd.” From the kitchen.

“That’s my queue.” He smiles.

“That’s your queue.” You smile back as he leans in for a kiss.

“Oh and don’t think I don’t remember you calling me super Dad last night.” You roll your eyes at his own ego, “I’m gonna be using that for a long time.”

“Yeah, yeah:” you say waving him off. But it’s true. Peter is a super dad and you couldn’t be more happy to have him forever by your side.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #dad peter imagine #dad!peter x reader

152 notes · View notes

iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty admirer.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x chubby reader

Warning: Augst, Fluff, Stalking, Death Threats, Kidnapping, Bondage, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Daddy kink, Toji's kinda sadistic, Unconsent-photo taking, Masturbation, Yandere!reader, reader's a little creep, stalkerish gifts, Creampie, Slapping, Oral(Male), Degrading kink, Mean Toji, Baby-trapping, Fingering, Multiple orgasms, Face-fucking, Choking, Dirty talk, Overstimulation, Rough sex. Part 2.

Summary: Your love story with Toji Fushiguro was far from normal but you come to love it. By god, do you love it.

Dark, gloomy clouds blocked the Illuminating sun, It was like the weather felt what you were brewing inside. 'It's perfect' you glowered in your mind while you took a sip of the bitter coffee, watching as the sky reflected your mood. Your beloved ex and you were crazy for each other until he met his true love, You wanted to do something to her and you would have done so if he hadn't warned you of what would happen, and you knew better than to test him.

You rolled your eyes at the memory, Now you boredly watched people walk by the cafe window you sat in, the people looked just as boring as you felt. Until he strolled by, you would've missed him at first glance, simply because he was wearing such casual clothes if it wasn't for the flashy woman under his arm you'd completely miss him, through my. He was gorgeous, unbearable mesmerizing the clouds moved for the heavens to shine on him.

Ebony hair reached his ears and nearly covered his irises, they were green like the rainforest, and a scar on his right lip. it made him look ragged yet handsome, and certainly, his masculine body didn't help. His white shirt was two sizes down, every muscle of his was outlined and he wore simple blue jeans.

Your heartbeat quickened, and your breath shorted, it felt like you couldn't breathe, you needed him to live, he was your lifeline. he. was. yours.

You fumbled to get your stuff and rushed out of the cafe, Staying only a few feet behind you followed the couple to a modern, traditional Japanese-style house. The two entered the house, while you stayed back and wrote down the mysterious man's address in the notepad you carried around 'Fushiguro? So that's his last name.' you hummed, checking once again that nobody was watching you and no one was. Everything in you screamed to stay and learn more, watch him but it was daytime people would notice you snooping and you couldn't risk being caught. You left with one last glance at the Fushiguro household.

Day by day, you learned about your love, His full name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's in his early 30s, he has a son named Megumi, who's in college, his number and his hobbies consist of going to the gym your favorite, gambling, and your least favorite, fucking that homewrecker. There was still much more to learn, like his favorite things and what was his job, his work demanded most of his time. You overheard that Toji would be gone for a week on a business trip as he spoke to his employer in his favorite gambling place and you could finally put your plan in action.

You waited for him to leave, wishing him silently to be safe, and hurried to his door after the taxi he left in was out of sight, you took the copy key that you had printed out of the spare key he left under a rock, out of your bag and unlocked the door. You walked in and shut the door unworried that anyone would see you, it was six in the morning and still dark. You leaned on the closed door, a grin on your face, a warmth in your chest, and butterflies in your stomach, you felt like a kid in a candy store. You pushed off the door and walked around his home, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the small messes around the house .'This can't do. When I'm his wife, I will make sure it is clean around here-' your cheeks heated up, you needed to focus! inhaling you continued. You passed the rooms you were least interested in, and stopped once you stumbled upon the laundry room, it was surprisingly clean, some clothes were on the dryer, towels were on the washer door, and a bin of dirty clothes. You gripped the sliding door and bit your lip, should you? It's not like he'd notice, it was wrong to steal but- without giving any more debate you grabbed a tank top, its dark green with a strong scent of musk, a smell of comfort.

You put it in your bag and moved on. The upstairs, had a second bathroom, a bedroom that looked like would be his son's room, your heart beating fast as you walked down the mini hall, into a master room, his room greeted you. the bed inside was at least a queen, he had a flat-screen TV opposite from his bed. A dark oak dresser and strangely a few weapons lying against or on the dresser, a closet, and a bedside table that had a basic lamb. Overall it was basic and little of characteristics. You sat down your bag and lay on the bed, your eyes slowly closed, you could nearly imagine him beside you, his arm around your naked body after passionate lovemaking, imagine him pushing your rotund thighs to your chest as he humped your pussy, and his balls covered in your slick, smacking against your ass, you imagine-a ring- wait, a ring? Your eyes shoot up as the doorbell rings. You rushed downstairs with your bag "Toji!" a high-pitched voice shrieked, the homewrecker you scowled "TOJI?!" she banged on the door, what the hell is she doing? She is trying to make him look bad? Your eyes widened as you hid as she used the spare key "God he's a fucking jerk, he didn't even tell me he was gone." She huffed walking to the laundry room, unaware of you following her.

You glared at her backside as she bent down in his dirty clothes picking out some of her panties, each more scandalous than the last, she was so..so pretty, seemed just like his type, you wanted to hurt her, you placed a foot in the door, No! no..not here, soon. you reassured yourself, slipping into the other room as she moved to turn to leave the room and the house altogether. You left a minute later, you had some planning to do. Instead of basking in Toji's home, you had to stalk your love's little fuck buddy Mayu, she seemed to like partying, getting shit-faced drunk, and sleeping around, you couldn't believe it. Did Toji have feelings for her? She isn't remotely marriage material. Scoffing you watched her stumbled and trip into her apartment, 'pathetic' You rolled your eyes and put the black hoodie over your head and walked across the street, the door was left unlocked. you quietly walked to the kitchen you had mapped in your head the first time you broke in, the knife block was like a twinkle that shone on a gold bar in your eyes, but what to choose? A thud came from her bedroom, you grabbed a long, sharp jagged knife and sauntered to her room with purpose.

The door of her bedroom was opened a jar and she laid on the bed in a star pose, unaware of the danger she was in. You sneaked in, your stare trained on her akin to a predator, waiting for the right time to pounce on unfortunate prey, Her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. You straddled her waist, pointed the blade to her throat, and slapped your hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with terror shot open "Don't even try." you hissed as she struggled under you, pressing the knife to her neck, enough to scare her to stop. "Now listen. You're gonna stop seeing Toji, and I wouldn't tell him about me, or of course, you want that neck of yours slit." you smiled as she began to cry and frantically nodded. "And just to make sure that you listen." you cut her chest before she could react, ultimately making her cry more. You left her there sobbing, with a wicked grin on your face, and sick joy pumping in your veins. Despite her wild side, she was smart, and knew enough to know you'd do more than simply scare her if you visited her again.

The rest of the week flew by, he came home unexpectedly barely giving you time to hide in his double-door closet. Toji mumbled something you couldn't make out though you wouldn't find yourself caring as you watched with wide eyes, Toji threw off his black shirt on the floor then plopped down on the bed, and his fingers ran through his raven hair. Scars littered his build, big and small, it didn't if not only add to his beauty, but the simple action of moving his bangs heated your core, you wanted to pull on those locks as he took his pleasure from your body. you take your phone from your back pocket, turn off the volume, and flash, you begin taking photos, two, three, or four times. You almost whimpered as he took off his pants and left the room to what you think bathroom, you had to go before you outed yourself.

Even at night, his very being was stuck with you, turning and twisting to get comfortable was futile, sighing you stared at the wall, you itched to do something, show him he was loved, how? You shot up with a smile, love letters! Of course! You tear the blanket away and get out of your bed, you grab some paper and a pencil, turn on the lamp on your desk.

My beloved Toji.

You don't know me, but I know you, and I have come to love you. I fell for your snarky and coarse personality, you can't estimate the length that my love stretches. Nobody would love you like me. I'll show you exactly that.

I'll take care of those who fail to be everything you could want, you deserve the best, and I can be the best for you, only you. I'll spend every waking instant to prove that.

Yours Truly, your devoted admirer.

You hummed this would do for now. You kiss the paper, hoping the love you feel transfers. You folded it and began another. You sent these letters with a flower of different meanings, one with roses, another orchid, and another with Tuberose. Some letters with pictures taken of his beauty. The days you're able to break into his house, the flowers you send are in vases, and your letters are in the bedside drawer, videos of you using his pillow to rub your throbbing clit, yet..yet he continued to find quick fucks, the bitter, burning rage you felt was worse than you found out your ex cheated, the women were met with threats, some times more. He was yours and they won't forget that.

My dear Toji.

Why do you like hurting me so? You know of my feelings yet you keep fucking those unworthy women, you are mine. I should be the only thing you think about when you pleasure yourself. Think about how tight I would be, how the thickness of my body would feel against you.

I will rid those girls of you. You. Are. Mine.

Your devoted admirer.

You sent this with a dead flower, if you had to kill them, you would. You won't live in a world where he wasn't in your life, sure you didn't introduce yourself but you will, it will be so cute, that what you thought.

Toji was gone for another business trip, and you took it upon yourself to watch over his house, it seemed to be in a bigger dilemma than the last time you visited, but you didn't put too much thought into it. You beelined it to Toji's room, tiredness of the hardships of love, became unbaring. You wanted to smell him all around you, once your sight landed on his bed, you flopped on it and giggled as the bed bounced your soft, pudgy body. The comfortable scent of your beloved carried you to sleep, and dreams of him danced in your unconscious mind. When you came to, a few things made themselves known, the bed you laid on was now a swing of some kind, the ground was black marble, and a couple inches away, your ankles and arms were tied together in a thick rope. Looking up from the floor view, you realized that you were in a basement, not a normal one but a sex dungeon, and as naked as the day you were born. a bed with a pillory between the pillars of the bed frames, set a few feet ahead of you, and on the walls were paddles of different sizes, leather whips, and horse whips "Sleepin' beauty finally awoke?" a deep baritone voice mocked, pushing the swing just a tad to have you in motion. Your heart flattered and jumped up your throat, carnivorous butterflies ate at your stomach "Oh the possessive whore can't speak now? Y're fine telling me what I can and can't do in that little letter." it was him, this wasn't how you were supposed to meet! You had it all planned- you yelped, a sudden sharp sting was left on your ass cheek from Toji's hand "Speak." that one word spoke pure, unmoving authority "I-I'm sorry! I-" A smack cut you off "You're sorry? You're sorry? Nah but I'll make you sorry." he gave your ass one last hit before he walked in front of you. You only saw him from afar, never this close or bare..no pants, no underwear nor shirt blocked his sculptured body, his length stood proud, twitching to be touched and licked, and a small bead of pre-cum poured from the pinkish slit, his balls hang shapely, and heavily, a mass of dark hair surrounded the base. Your mouth watered "Like what you see?" Toji chuckled cruelly taking his shaft and giving a jerk "Y-yes. It's so beautiful." you admitted in a trance-like state "Then be a good girl and open wide." he grinned lazily poking your bottom lip with his tip. Your mouth dropped and he didn't waste any time to shove it in, your eyes rolled back and you gagged, it so hard, hot, and heavy, his hands held onto your hand as he humped his cock down your throat, the saltness of his pre-come dragging against your taste buds. Deep grunts and groans heaved out of his chest, his head thrown back and his cum-filed balls smacked your drool-covered chin while he used your mouth as a fleshlight. Drool escaped the sides of your lips and pornographic gagging sounds intertwined with his pleased noises.

He was close, his groans raised in volume and his fingers tightened a bit around your head "Fuck!fuck!fucccck!!" he growled as a thick load shot down your throat, almost causing you to choke. Once he pulled out a string of saliva and cum followed before snapping, landing on the floor. "Ya like that huh?" Toji chuckled looking into your lust-glazed eyes "Answer" "Loved it s'happy..Daddy" you muttered the last part, tasting out what the girls he fucked called him, this wasn't lost on him "Fuckin' whore." he hissed, his dick twitched, he's been called that for so long but the way rolled off your tongue made him want to ruin you, not just ruin you but destroy you for any man. He pulled your hair back and forced you to look him in the eyes "'m finna ruin you." his voice dropped a little lower, he let go of your hair and walked behind you. For a second nothing happened until a big finger forced itself way into your drenched core "So fuckin' wet, might just make ya my personal slut." toji groaned, his finger thrusted into your fat cunt, his other hand kneading the flesh of your ass. You whined and clenched at his words, "More..please Daddy!" you begged tearfully which rewarded you with a harsh smack and a second finger "Since ya asked so nicely." he said, tone akin to conceding, his fingers sped up and a curled right on that spot "yes" you cried, the sound of your squelching pussy brought heat to your cheeks at the filthy noise, a third finger joined the two and it seemed like Toji was holding up against you before because his fingers pounded your vagina. The knot inside became so tight that it snapped, and your juices gushed out, spilling all over Toji's digits and the smooth floor "So messy." Toji tsked, you looked over your shoulder and moaned as he slowly licked his hand clean of your slick, his big hand took hold of your hip while he guided his tip to breach your hot sex once the head entered you, his other hand took its place on your hip and he snapped his hips, forcing himself entirely inside you. "Ya want to be mine?" he groaned, slowly pulled out then slammed back, and set a ruthless pace "Yes, please I'll be a good girl f'you Daddy." you cried as Toji growled and pounded into your cunt, your breast bounced out the slit in the swing "I'll make yar dreams come true, make you my baby mama" he grunted, using the sex swing to reach deeper, his cock head bullying your cervix harder "'m gonna make ya my fuckin' slutty housewife, waitn' for me and clean after me." he hissed, your tight sex clenching at his words, "Please..please! I'll be the perfect wife and m-mama" you babbled, tears falling down your puffy cheeks, Toji's hips quickened, driving his cock into your sweet spot and cervix, his fingers came to rubbed at your clitoris. The overestimation was becoming too much and the knot was about to snap "I'm gonna cum Daddy!" you moaned "Cum." Toji ordered, feeling his own inching closer. Just as the words left Toji's lips, your juices coated his cock, and your walls pulsed uncontrollably, milking Toji's cum as he spilled into you.

You were in a state between unconscious and consciousness, you felt the ropes that tied your arms and ankles together cut free. You felt yourself being picked up and carried to a bed, "Toji?" you muttered as you felt a wet cloth clean your puffy pussy and a stern "Sleep." Was all you got in return. The offer was too tempting to pass up.

You fall asleep in the comfort of Toji's bed.

Toji groaned as he stretched his muscles in the door of his house, his stomach growled and the thought of food was appetizing, Toji set his weapon by the door, took off his shoes, and made his way to the kitchen. Toji felt a small smile come onto his face as soon as he saw your portly body cooking dinner with a baby sitting on your hip, a baby girl that had your skin tone with your eye color, his hair, and eye shape. "I'm home," Toji called out, smile growing more as you made a happy noise and rushed to hug him "Welcome home my love!" you greeted with a smile "We missed you," you said as you handed over his daughter who immediately started to play with his bangs "Dinner will be ready in a minute. Sit." you smiles and kissed his cheek before going back to cooking. Toji sighed contently and sat down in the dining with his daughter, since he had let you live with him and eventually made you his wife, the cold and lonely house was now lively with love, laughter, and pitter-patter of feet.

Toji groaned as he rolled off you after showing how much he missed you and pulled you into him, your head on his pectoral "My love." you spoke up a few seconds of silence, drawing shapes on his other spec "Hmm?" Toji simply hummed as he rubbed his thumb on your love handle "How long did you know I was following you?" you asked, Toji had long ago told you off his occupation, being a hitman. It was a part of his job to beware of his surroundings "Since the beginn'." he answered honestly, you looked up in shock "Why didn't you do something sooner?" And why didn't you kill me? You wondered, "You were intriguing," He smirked "Nobody, no woman had tried that before besides..with a body like that how could not let you have your fun?" he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his scar "It's time for bed, we have so much to do tomorrow..." you laid your head back on his chest before mumbling "I love you." and like that sleep had taken hold of you. Toji kissed your head and whispered "I love ya too." he fell asleep soon after with you in his embrace.

Taglist: @18lkpeters , @ablondehoe.

A/n: Hey guys, sorry it took so long to upload. I hope you guys liked this like I did writing it. The reason I posted this instead of Guilty Love Three is because the poll I posted ended in a tie so I picked this story. I am still working on Guilty Love it will be out soon. If you'd like to be tagged for more of my toji fanfics you can ask here or in my ask and I will immediately add you to the list.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji x chubby reader #toji x you #jjk toji #toji fanfic #yandere reader

384 notes · View notes

sun-stricken · 7 months ago

Note

Hello. I absolutely love your Fairy Tail head-canons, especially about demon slayer Gray. Feel free to take or leave these little ideas. Always love when you post <3

Imagine Team Natsu has to rent a vehicle or something and they require actual legal paperwork like a birth certificate and address or something like that (more than just “guild business! Gonna need this!”). Lucy doesn’t want to rent it because there is no way she’s going to be responsible for the inevitable damage. Erza, being the leader and a good friend volunteers. A few minutes later she comes back out, puzzled.

Erza: “why would they need a birth certificate? Shouldn’t me being present be proof enough of my existence?”

Gray starts snickering in the background. Natsu goes in next but comes out even earlier than Erza, cause at least Erza had a probably legal address at Fairy Hills, Natsu on the other hand lives in a house in the woods.

By the time Wendy goes in the receptionist is exasperated. “Yes I understand you are with Fairy Tail but that isn’t until page three of the paper work. None of you have made it past the first page.”

Gray finds this all very amusing.

Lucy: “Since you find it so amusing why don’t you go register, Gray!?”

Gray: mutters something

Natsu: “What do you mean you’re legally dead?!”

Cause you know, Ur just found a kid (the only survivor) and just decided to keep him. Oh, no official rescue crews didn’t show up until two days later? My kid now :)

The search and rescue teams never found any survivors in Gray’s old town so everyone was pronounced dead. The magic council or whoever is in charge of that stuff is also disorganized enough that no one realized that Gray Fullbuster is both a famous wizard and supposedly dead. So, just, Gray technically being considered legally dead the entire time he was at Fairy Tail.

Also, the slayers all going out on a job together(the dragon slayers had to drag Gray). The job turns out to be a trap (surprise!) and the floor just opens up revealing a giant vehicle.

Dark mage: “Ha-ha! I have bested the dragon slayer! The most powerful mages-“spots Gray just chilling, perfectly fine and not motion sick. “what are you doing?” Cause the guy was planning to capture dragon slayer, not whatever a demon slayer was (the dark mage didn’t even know demon slayers were a thing). Gray defeats the dark mage but holds it over Natsu’s head for a week.

After that anytime a large group of dragon slayers takes a job together they take Gray along for “extra security during transportation” or just extra security in general.

I also head-canon that each type of slayer magic has its own unique weakness. Dragon slayers get severely motion sick. God slayers are claustrophobic. Demon slayers cannot handle sweets. If Gray gets even a whiff of cake or any other dessert his gag reflex acts up and he gets really nauseous and other stuff like that. He of course hid it at first (he was afraid Erza would disown him) but eventually everyone learned about the weakness of demon slayers. Natsu teases him about it but never pushes it too far to the point of accidentally making Gray really sick.

Anyways, sorry for the long ask. Feel free to expand on anything. Always love some good slayer bonding head-canons and just Fairy Tail head-canons in general. <3

This was so much fun to make tbh so domt apologize, i love long asks <3 and thank for for what you said ant my posts! theyre fun to make so im glad ppl enjoy them

Oh, you have no idea how often ive though about Gray being legally dead, my personal favorite scenario is him trying to fix it and prove himself alive but cant

“How the fuck would i know my social security number??? i was eight years old! i had no reason to know!!!”

There was no dna or finger-print records of him or his family so he couldn’t prove it that way either. Apparently, declaring someone born or dead is easier than someone ‘resurrected’. To the law Gray of Isvan is dead and although Gray of Fiore bares similarities, they are two different people.

But ALSO to the law Gray of Fiore doesnt exist bc he has no birth certificate. And while hes adamant, he has no real proof beyond his word he is Gray Fullbuster of Isvan.

So basically, According to the law, Both Gray Fullbuster of Isvan and Fiore are dead and never existed, respectively.

tbh this sounds like an identity crisis waiting to happen, but what else is new with him

Erza probably tried to fix it after she was told bc she legally didnt exist for a minute either (never was filed as a real person, she was able to file for a late birth certificate on account that she wasnt claiming to be a ‘separate’ person and also Makarov did it for her) (dont ask why he didnt for Gray, i like plot holes). But quickly realized their situations were very different, him waiting over a decade to check in as a survivor with the proper authorities definitely weakened his case considering he was running around free before he decided he needed a birth certificate.

But hey, as long as he doesn’t need to rent something, or get a license or id, or work somewhere beyond Fairy Tail, or get married, or, god forbid, die again, he should be fine!

i wonder if he would be considered a ‘john doe’ if he actually died again since they have ‘no’ birth records

This also makes games like ‘two truths and a lie’ amazing

“alright so, im legally dead, i legally dont exist, and ive never physically died before” “Gray what the hell do you mean” “Guess the right one and ill tell you” “WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEAN THOUGH??”

i love everything to do with the ‘dragon slayers + gray’ dynamic

‘Extra security’ just turns into Gray babysitting a bunch of rambunctious dragons for hours. seriously, get this guy a reward for how he hasnt killed or maimed any of them yet.

Imagine them trying to convince Gray to walk to their destination instead of taking the train

“Its not that far!!” “its fucking 5 hours by train, How long do you think itll take to walk? Why would even you pick this job if you knew how long the ride would be??” … “nobody looked..” “are you actually serious.” … “oh my fucking god”

and thats the story of how one Demon slayer ended up having to babysit 4 very pitiful looking Fairy Tail Dragon slayers on a train. Dude had to drag them off it once it stopped too.

His side career of ‘Dragon Slayer Babysitter’ only gets harder when they realize holy shit! cold compresses can help nausea! and what do they have? a walking cold compress.

Taking a train trip with them just means second hand nausea AND embarrassment, and absolutely no personal space. A dream come true.

At least he gets to hold it over their heads

Tbh i like the irony of Dragon Slayers being motion sick because, yk, dragons can fly, so my hc for side effects for God Slayers and Demon Slayers were along the same lines

God Slayers being wide open space or flying since Gods are like the epitome of freedom? all knowing and have complete reign over everything, But claustrophobia works so much better for that same reason. It would cause extreme panic and rash decisions

And Demon Slayers was the dark because demons are supposed to be these evil creatures who thrive in the dark n stuff? basically it would send a Demon Slayer into a paranoid spiral.

But sweets being a weakness instead is such a silly thing that im gonna take it and run

Gray never cared for sweets in the first place, gave him a stomachache, but now he has to walk away from Erza mid conversation if she decides to indulge, which is almost everyday. She was absolutely heartbroken and devastated when the weakness was revealed, it was such a dramatic reaction one wouod think she was the one with the new weakness

When Gray pokes fun at Natsus motion sickness he’ll go on about how Gray is gonna have the lamest parties since he cant handle even the smell of sweets, especially cake.

A terrible realization for everyone involved with him, on par with when Gray realized he wouldnt be able to have ice cream comfortably again, thats like a staple for ice mages

heart wrenching, truly

107 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

Note

AITA for not comforting a child after her science project didn't work?

( 💞💥 to find)

Okay this was a while ago but I still think about it sometimes and I'm genuinely unsure of if I did the right thinh.

So I (15F at the time) was a part of a science league thing facilitated by my school. Basically, you would meet after school once a week to study/work on projects, and then go to a competition in the spring against other schools. There were a bunch of different categories and activities but they were primarily separated into ones you had to study for (and would then take a test on) or build for (like a wheeled vehicle or a model plane, which would be graded). It was really fun and low-key compared to the sports programs at my school, so I liked it a lot.

A friend of mine, who we'll call S (15F) was also in the science league. We did a lot of study based competitions together, and usually placed in the competitions. During our third year, her youngest sister, M (12ish), joined the league. She was a really sweet and smart kid, and she was interested in trying a building based event. You needed two people to enter an event, so I volunteered to build a marble rollercoaster with her. M also grouped up with a girl in her grade for another building project (I think it was a plane).

Because M was doing two building events (which were predictably a lot more time consuming than the study events) and the school musical, we agreed I would create the plans for the rollercoaster and get the materials together. Now, each building events came with a printed copy of parameters and optional features that could get us bonus points. I decided on attempting for three bonus features (two jumps and a loop). Between designing on paper, adapting for the parameters, measuring out the track lengths, and gathering materials (that of which I had to switch out half way through), the whole process took me about four months to complete, and that was just the planning. We were getting pretty close to the competition date when we started to actually assemble the damn thing (at this point she had finished up her other stuff and was able to help me more consistently), and we were having a lot of issues with getting the track pieces to fit together. As I remember it, the problem came from having to fold the track over a bunch of times so it would stay in the 30cm-somethingish width parameter. The Thursday before the competition (which was in Saturday), M volunteered to take the coaster home and finish it there. I was honestly so relieved when she said this, because I knew through S that her dad was really handy, and like mini trebuchets and stuff for fun.

Flash forward to the event, when we're boarding the bus going to the school hosting the competition. She gets on with a cardboard box, and excitedly shows me a marble rollercoaster that is absolutely not what she left with at all. For reference, the original plan for the coaster was made of pvc pipe, which I spent around three weeks measuring out and cutting with a band saw in the shop room. This rollercoaster was two pieces of plywood with tinfoil tracks that you leaned against the cardboard box she was carrying it in. She hadn't included any of the extra features I had implemented to get us extra points. While I was shocked and admittedly pretty pissed I didn't say anything because she was a) a kid and b) I assumed that there was probably some issue that had arisen in testing that necessitated the changes. When we went to impound she struggled a lot with setting it up and the three pieces weren't attached with anything and were literally just leaning against each other. At this point it was also visually obvious that the width want way beyond 30 cms, and when the judges came around to measure, it turned out that it was above the allotted height too. M was looking really nervous about now, so I assured her that most of the time, the marbles don't even make it down the coaster tracks, and as long as our marble makes it to the end we should be able to place. Except, when it came time to release our marble, it moved for about three seconds before getting stuck in the tinfoil. We were allowed to try two more times, and it got stuck in the same place each time.

M was very visibly upset, and looking back I think she was on the verge of tears. It can't really remember what I said; I know I didn't say anything malicious or accusatory, though. Honestly, I think I might have just stood there in silence, because I was honestly really fucking angry that she ditched my design for no apparent reason and didn't bother to check any of the available rules or even test her design. But I don't think that anger justified leaving a little kid without support when she was upset.

tldr: When I was a teenager I didn't comfort my friends little sister after our marble rollercoaster didn't work because she had ditched the design I had made for one that broke parameters.

#aita #am i the asshole

55 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 8 months ago

Text

show me how to lay my sword down long enough to let you through - clone^2 ch2

[My parents don’t get up until seven, and they’re in the lab by eight. They typically don’t leave the lab until after I get home.] Danny says as he leads Damian into the kitchen, the automated voice of the translator AI cutting through the air easily. Damian stuck close to his side, eyes narrow and a snooty look of disdain stamped on his face like a printing press while his eyes flit around the room.

The kid had woken up immediately upon Danny shuffling out from beneath his desk, and he had to scurry back to avoid being skewered by Damian’s katana. He bumped into his desk in the process, and the muffled thud it made against the wall had Danny praying that his parents wouldn’t wake up from the noise.

(“I should’ve confiscated that.” He muttered, gripping the table with white knuckles and mouth pursed into a thin line. The business end of Damian’s katana staring him in the nose.)

(He should’ve expected the baby assassin to sleep lighter than a feather. His mistake, of course. Damian realized quickly after where he was, thankfully, so Danny didn’t have to fight him off in his room. The noise and mess that would make would have surely woken up his parents, and he still hasn’t come up with an excuse as to why Damian was even there.)

So now with Damian awake, Danny decided to just go ahead and give him a quick tour of the house so that he knew where everything was. Fuuuck, it was only setting in now that he had to leave the kid home, alone, all day.

(Maybe things will be fine. Murphy screwed him over already with this, he has other people to torment, surely. Like the other heroes, for example.)

Wherever Damian’s ‘League of Assassins’ was situated, it was probably ten times nicer than Danny’s house. That is, if Danny’s assumption from the look on Damian’s face was correct.

Breathing out through his nose, Danny leads Damian over to the fridge, his fingers digging into the phone screen again. [I don’t have an excuse ready for why you’re here, so please don’t get seen by them. They spend all day in the lab so you should be able to roam the house freely.]

He feels like the butler from a period drama set telling the down-on-her-wealth noble lady the rules of the manor, while she was staying with a fabulously wealthy nobleman of higher standing. It felt ridiculous. But it was unfortunately necessary, he can’t imagine what kind of reaction his parents would have to Damian — and what kind of reaction Damian would have to his parents.

Damian scowls at him and says something in Arabic, spitting it out like acid while his arms cross over his chest grumpily. Danny stops and turns to him fully, raising a deadpan eyebrow. Damian repeats what he said, looking at Danny like he wants him to spontaneously burst into flames.

They stare at each other for thirty, uncomfortable seconds, with Danny keeping his deadpan steady, before finally he silently holds his phone out. Damian breaks their staring contest to look down, and his surly expression deepens.

Grumbling under his breath, Damian snags it out of his hand. Danny counts his fingers as he pulls his hand away.

(When he counts all five still there, he drops his arm back to his side.)

[I will stay hidden, for now.] Damian spits out, looking supremely disgruntled. It’s kind of endearing, but endearing the same way a tiger cub was. Cute, but undoubtedly dangerous. Rather than handing back his phone, Damian speaks into it again. [But figure out what to tell them. I am above hiding.]

“Planning on it.” Danny mutters, nodding sharply before taking back his phone and turning back to the fridge. Before he even takes the handle, Danny pushes his hair from his face and leans forward, pressing his ear to the door. The metal is cold on his cheek, but he barely pays it to mind.

Ecto-contaminated food didn’t have nearly enough of a signature to fully trigger his ghost sense, but it did make a strange, buzz-humming sound that felt more internal than external. Like the sensation that Danny himself was humming instead.

From his peripherals, Danny can see Damian staring at him with unconcealed bewilderment, his apparent surliness temporarily forgotten in favor of looking at Danny like he was an idiot. “Madha tafaeala?”

In lieu of answering, Danny just holds up a finger at Damian. Something the little dude really doesn’t appreciate, as he immediately scowls at Danny and makes that ‘myeh’-like expression that kids do when they’re trying to give someone they don’t like attitude without actually saying anything. The one that, as far as Danny is concerned, doesn’t have a real term for but everyone knows what it is anyway.

Either way, Damian makes a face at him that does, briefly, succeed in irritating Danny. He says nothing and cranes his ears instead, trying to catch if there’s any internal buzzing coming from inside the fridge. His hand drifts instinctively to the counter, where he and Jazz had moved the knife block for this exact reason.

…Will he have to hide this with Damian here? He hopes not, the last time the knife block got moved he forgot, and had to strangle a half-eaten chicken from the fridge after it came back with fowl vengeance.

When he doesn’t hear or feel anything out of the ordinary, he leans back and swings the door open with ease. Rows upon rows of liquid-jellied-solidified-whatever-it-was-feeling-at-the-time ectoplasm sat in glass canisters, tupperware, and bottles on the shelves. Glowing green in between the stuff that was actually food, and washing a buzz over Danny like someone just draped him in a weighted blanket.

(He should clarify. Ectoplasm does exhibit its own signature that’s too weak to signal his ghost sense, but that buzzing-humming feels more like the painless tingling of when part of his spine falls asleep. Except everywhere, and the feeling is heavier in his head. It’s oddly comforting. Nostalgic; like the smell after the snow’s freshly melted and the weather is warm. It is very much not like the ominous, buzzing-humming-intent of a partially reanimated chicken that’s regained some of its sentience and wanted revenge.)

Behind him, Damian makes some kind of squeaking sound. Or maybe it’s more like a yelp. Either way, it’s alarmed and loud enough that Danny turns around with half a jumping heart and a ‘shush’ on the tip of his tongue.

“Ladayk ma' lieazir!” Damian hisses, pointing behind Danny at the canisters behind him. Damian’s eyes narrow into slits, and he hunches up like a stray cat that’s been cornered. “Min 'ayn hasalt ealaa ma' lieazir?!”

Danny follows the point of his finger, and sees the ectoplasm canisters behind him. “The ectoplasm?” He asks aloud, looking back at Damian in bewilderment.

Apprehension tightens slowly in his chest. Damian used that word again — and Danny only catches it because it was what Damian had been calling him last night, in the warehouse. He thought it meant ‘stranger’ or something — but, he glances back at the ectoplasm in the fridge.

Was Damian calling him ectoplasm?

He knows what ectoplasm was?

What had been a steady tightening in his chest suddenly fastens like a noose. Danny reaches for one of the canisters just to make sure, and Damian watches him tersely as he curls a hand around one of the canisters and pulls it forward. He doesn’t take it off the shelf, but he does gesture slightly with it. “This?” He asks, “The ectoplasm. Is this what you’re talking about?” He knows he has a translator on his phone, but he doesn’t think he’ll need it for this.

He recalls the word Damian used, and frowns. “The- the lazeer? Laziere?” It’s an embarrassing attempt at trying to repeat it, but Damian understands what he’s saying anyways and nods sharply.

“Niema, ma' lieazir. Kif lidayk.”

Danny really doesn’t like that Damian knows what ectoplasm is, and he really doesn’t like the idea that his League of Assassins place knows about it too, and seemingly has access to the physical stuff. This feels too much like going swimming in the ocean and feeling something brush against his foot.

Now he really needs to make sure that Damian never makes it back to the League. The idea of a bunch of assassins finding out that his parents can make ectoplasmic weapons terrifies him, just a smidge. (Just what has he gotten himself into?)

Putting the canister down and pushing it away from the ledge, Danny reaches for the milk instead, his heart beating uncomfortably in his ears. A discomfited “Hn.” comes out under his breath as he plucks the jug off the shelf and shuts the door, it closes a little more forcibly than normal. Danny reaches for his phone.

The word ectoplasm doesn’t translate into Arabic, he checks before he says anything. Danny reaches over Damian to put the milk on the table as he types, still frowning uneasily. [It’s ghost stuff.] He says, and then says aloud: “Ectoplasm.”

“Ec-to-plasm.” Damian repeats curtly, lip curling. Danny nods curtly.

Rather than repeating himself, Danny types into his phone again. [You’re not allowed in the lab without me. Don’t touch the ghost stuff in the fridge, it’s dangerous.] He says, [I was listening to the fridge because the food likes to come alive and attack, if you need food from the fridge, grab a knife.] He’ll try and show Damian how to listen for reanimated food later, it’s a little harder without a ghost sense but the food moves, so he’ll show him how to listen for that.

Damian scoffs; “'Adhhab hayth 'urid 'ayuha almuhtal.” and reaches out to take the phone from his hand.

Rather than letting him, Danny pirouettes away, holding his phone over his head, “Nah-ah-ah.” He says, watching Damian’s face twist indignantly into anger. [We’ll talk more later, I want breakfast and you’re probably hungry.]

(Is he avoiding? Absolutely, he is. But it’s early, and Danny is much too tired to entertain the impending doom sinking into his chest like snow caving in a roof. He needs to do something about the information that a league of assassins has access to ectoplasm, but that something is… being put on the backburner for now.)

(Maybe he’s just catastrophizing — he’s gotten pretty good at that over the years. Maybe he’s putting too much weight on the idea; maybe he’s just sleep deprived. No, he’s definitely sleep deprived. Either way, he’s putting a pin in the murder group for now.)

Danny turns for the pantry, and takes about one step before he remembers the phone in his hand. Twisting around, he plops it onto the table for Damian, and then marches over to the pantry for the cereal.

The oven clock reads six-twenty-eight, and that doesn’t have Danny feeling all that great. He said earlier that his parents got up at seven, so they only have thirty-two minutes before then. Then another ten or so before his parents come down for breakfast. Mom takes the shower first, and dad comes downstairs to get started on breakfast. Sometimes it's cereal, but he likes making eggs if they haven’t been irradiated.

The pantry swings open and Danny pulls out a box of cereal, his brows furrowed in thought. Dad will want to talk to him if he sees him — so it’s for the best that Danny and Damian finish eating before dad makes it to the hallway. He turns and glances at the time again. Six-thirty. Thirty minutes. He puts the box onto the table and grabs their bowls and spoons.

There’s a look of apprehension on Damian’s face as he puts everything down, his fingers curled around Danny’s phone. His eyes flick up to Danny, and then he holds up his phone. [Is this what you eat?] He asks, before eyeing the table again.

Danny can’t stop the quiet snort that escapes him, his thoughts quieting for a moment as he slides into his chair, before reaching over and plucking the phone out of Damian’s hand. [Sorry bud, it’s all we’ve got time for before my parents get up.]

Damian makes a disgruntled face, and sits down.

(He idly makes a mental note to wrangle out of Damian later what kind of foods he likes. He’s not too bad at cooking. He’s better than Jazz, at least.)

—-----

They make it back up to Danny’s room by six-fifty-two, just as Danny hears his parents shuffling around in their room. They’re up a little earlier than normal. His mom’s limb, quieter footsteps already padding for the master bathroom. Danny is closing the door when he hears a familiar thud, and the low, sleepy groan of his dad sitting up and putting his feet on the ground.

Damian bounds away and is already situated on Danny’s bed when he turns around, fingers snatching his katana from beneath the pillows before he turns and sits stiffly with it in his lap.

It was a bit of a ridiculous sight: despite being awake for nearly an hour, Damian’s bed-head hadn’t changed a bit, with a tangled bunch of curls jutting out from one side of his head. Pair that with him still wearing Danny’s NASA tee (and being swamped in it), and the katana, and Danny was half tempted to snap a picture. Again, he was finding himself endeared.

He does end up sneaking that picture as he strides over to his closet to rummage for clothes.

[I’ll try and think of a way to get you home.] He lies as he shifts through the shirts on the hangers, typing with his thumb, and tilted halfway with his phone jutting out for Damian to hear. [But that’s gonna take a while, so we should get you some different clothes soon.] There was no way he was letting this kid wear the same thing every day, this might take weeks.

He yanks a yellow turtleneck that Tucker got him off the hanger and tosses it out onto the bed. It lands next to Damian with a quiet thump, and the kid shuffles away from it with a glare as if it's personally offended him. Danny stifles a smile and walks out, grabbing his hoodie-jacket from its spot on the door and tossing it onto the bed as well.

Damian grumbles something, then holds out his hand for the phone. Danny hands it to him as he passes by, going over to his desk to pick up his gloves and grappling hook, before turning to his bag.

[I am not worried about the time, Mother will come looking for me.] Damian tells him, sticking his nose up into the air and missing the cold seize of Danny’s heart and the tensing up of his shoulders. His mother. Who was probably also an assassin from the assassin club Damian was made from.

(A blood rush sends stars spinning around in the corners of Danny’s vision, and he pauses in order to stare blankly at the top of his half-opened backpack. He quickly blinks it away, and unzips his bag fully to shove his gear into one of the larger pockets.)

He hums low, turning to look at Damian with a fake smile plastered on his face. “That’s great, bud.”

(It should be a good thing, but he can’t quite shake the whole ‘assassins’ thing. Specifically… well, all of it. It’s all giving him a headache to sort through.)

Damian scoffs at him, [I cannot understand you.]

Danny snorts unwittingly, turning and shoving his gloves into an inside side pocket just as Damian throws his phone at him. He catches it before it can slam into the wall �� or Danny’s head, and puts his grappling hook into his bag before typing into the translator. [I said that it’s good. I’m glad your mom is looking for you.]

That was another lie, and he felt bad that it had to be. Damian rolls his eyes at him, and Danny stuffs his phone into his back pocket and grabs his hook.

When his bag is accounted for, Danny finally focuses on getting dressed. He moves out to the bathroom to change, admittedly hot-footing it a bit so that Damian is alone for the least amount of time possible. He passes a sleep-mussed Jazz heading for the stairs, and she pauses to mess with his hair.

“Did you stay up all night again?” She mumbles, her fingers catch on a few tangles, but slide out at the end easily. “You don’t have bedhead.”

Danny pauses, half-distracted by the feeling of her hands in his hair and the urge to hurry through getting dressed. “Only a little.” He says, scurrying away and opening the door to the bathroom. “Was workin’ on a case.”

Jazz frowns at him, and he closes the door before she can say anything.

(He’s in the middle of brushing his teeth when he remembers that Damian will need other essentials than just clothes, and immediately starts compiling a mental list.)

He’s got half an arm through his jacket when he leaves the bathroom, his attention split between getting it on and typing into his phone. When he opens the door, there’s quiet, rapid footsteps shuffling before he sees Damian hopping back onto the bed, staring at him stonily and like a kid who was acting like he hadn’t been doing anything.

A smile tugs at the corner of Danny’s mouth, and he types into his phone to add something before hitting play on the translator. [I have to head out now, you can look around my room if you’d like. Don’t touch the brown files on my desk, I’ll be back after school ends. I should have a game plan by then. Don’t be seen by my parents.]

As it speaks, Danny strides over and grabs his backpack. Damian’s eyes follow him the whole time, and Danny slings his bag over his shoulders and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Damian nods curtly at him, and before Danny leaves he reaches over and plucks a hairband off his dresser, pinching it between his teeth.

“Okay, I’m off.” He repeats, voice slightly muffled by the hairband as he starts pulling his hair up. There’s a huff from Damian and a knowingly annoyed look, and Danny’s smile grows a little out of amusement. He tugs the tie out from his mouth and twists it around his hair. “Be good, Damian.”

Green eyes narrow at him, and Danny hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him.

(He was a little — no, scratch that, a lot apprehensive about leaving Damian here alone for most of the day. He was worried about his parents, perhaps a little too much, and he was worried about Damian recognizing the ectoplasm in the fridge. He’s worried about the whole thing with these ‘League of Assassins’ people, and he’s worried about how he’s going to explain Damian’s presence to his parents. And he’s most especially worried about how on earth he was going to convince Damian to not return home.)

Instead of going for the stairs, Danny turns and hurries over to the end of the hallway where the ladder to the rooftop is. There’s a lot he needs to think about, too much for him to want to walk with Sam and Tucker.

The nice thing about people is that they don’t really ever look up.

—----------

Danny: hey i’ll meet you guys at school

Tucker: did something happen during patrol?

Danny: something like that

Danny: i’ll tell you in class

Sam: alright. Hop safe

[Danny liked Sam's message]

—-------------

(if continued)

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“Dude!”

“I know!”

Danny drops his head onto his desk with an unceremonious thump, groaning low with his nose smushed into the wood. Sam’s hands, buried in his hair and in the midst of messing with it, stills to let him. Some of the strands slip out of her fingers and pool around Danny’s face, causing a curtain. It tickles a little.

Maybe he should have just walked to school with them, telling them about Damian probably would’ve garnered less attention that way. He can feel the gazes of their classmates — or at least, the ones not slowly filtering into the room — turning onto them, and burning into his head.

But running over the rooftops, albeit only until the residential area ended, was sorely needed. It didn’t help clear all of his thoughts, or really much of any of them, but it’d chased away the worst of his anxieties about it. Like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy room.

(This has been, officially, the longest… five hours of his life. And he’s had many, many long five hours in the last two years.)

(Pariah Dark and his evil future self are tied for the record of being the longest twenty-four hours of his life. Finding out he was a clone doesn’t count — it was still ongoing, and distressingly permanent.)

Tucker makes a noise, and Danny turns his head just in time to see him drop into his desk beside him, lifting his hat to run his hand over his curls with a look of disbelief. He’s staring unseeingly over Danny’s head for a whole of two seconds before looking back down.

“So he just — what, popped out of the ground? Like a daisy?”

Sam continues with her ministrations, and her fingers brush against his neck as she straightens his hair down his back. It’s soothing, enough so that the sleep-soreness of his eyelids becomes a lot more evident to him.

“Hn. Something like that. If the ground was a once-in-a-lifetime portal and the daisy was a murderous six year old.” He mutters, blinking slowly to try and keep himself awake. Sam’s nails scratch behind his ears, gathering up his hair again to finger-comb out the tangles, and he sighs quietly in content.

He sees Tucker suppress a smile, and he can practically sense Sam doing the same thing. Danny stares, did his ears do the thing again—?

“You don’t think a ghost had something to do with it?” Sam asks him, her voice staying low as she tugged out the knots in his hair. “It’s really strange that…” She pauses. Danny can feel her lean against his chair, and he lifts his head slightly as Tucker leans in too. “..that Damian just appeared in front of you right after you got done with fighting a ghost.”

Hrm. She was right. It was weird. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He says quietly, “I was too busy trying to get him to stop attacking me.” And after that he was busy trying to get them both home in one piece, and then after that was the whole identity crisis—

And he’s gonna stop there before his tired mind latches onto that spiral again.

Sam and Tucker’s mouths press together worriedly, and Danny finds himself frowning too. “Maybe I can sneak into the Zone sometime this week and ask one of the Ancients.” Frostbite knew a lot about the Infinite Realms in general, but Pandora might know more about strange magic.

He could try Clockwork, but finding the clocktower always feels like a scavenger hunt, and getting straight answers out of the ghost is like trying to catch the wind in a bag. Danny normally wouldn’t mind, he kinda likes the challenge, but now is not a good time for that.

Either way, it was just another thing on his long list of things to do this week, on top of everything else he had to do since acquiring Damian. He could feel a stress headache coming in, and it was only — he takes a quick glance at the clock — eight-fourteen. Yeah, longest five hours of his life. And counting.

Hrrm. “I just can’t believe my luck.” He complains, of all people to clone, of all kids to end up being cloned. It had to be the one kid who, by technicality, was his biological son. That thought alone felt like a tsunami about to swallow him whole. It was confusing, and complicated.

It shouldn’t have to be.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t view Damian Wayne as his son. Not by a long shot. Damian Wayne was Bruce Wayne’s son. But just like how Ellie isn’t Danny, and Danny isn’t Bruce; Damian is not Damian Wayne. And Danny still doesn’t view him as a son, and obviously Damian doesn’t view him as a father. But it all feels like a strange gray area, like a merry-go-round that’s not turning off, and it wouldn’t have to be if his parents hadn’t been fucking careless with their DNA samples—

It’s been four months why does he still feel so raw—

Tucker snorts roughly, bringing Danny out from his head.

He breathes in deep, blinking quickly, as Tucker leans back into his chair. Sam starts sectioning off Danny’s hair. “Yeah, fair enough,” he says, “bad luck is my schtick though, Danny, so don’t go start encroaching on my brand.”

“Your brand?” Sam repeats, voice lilting upward. Danny can imagine she’s raising an eyebrow at him, and he snickers both at the thought and at Tucker.

Tucker’s eyes light up at the sound, and he grins like he’s won a prize. “Yeah, my brand! You know, Bad Luck Tuck?”

Danny snickers louder, adjusting to sit more comfortably. “I thought your brand was Too Fine Foley.”

“I can have more than one brand.”

Sam snickers this time, in the midst of braiding Danny’s hair. It feels fantastic, Danny hums lowly, sinking like putty into his desk. “I’m pretty sure that’s called a monopoly, Tuck.”

Danny laughs quietly, blinking lizard-like. “Tuck Driver.”

Sam barks out a harsh laugh, and it trails off into stifled chuckles as Tucker’s jaw drops. The wide grin on his face betrays any potential upset he might have though. “That’s the mania setting in.” He says, voice thick with laughter, “That’s the fucking sleep mania talking right now. Take a nap, dude, we’ll wake you up when class ends.”

Sleep sounds great actually, and he’s gonna do it soon anyways with Sam still doing his hair. But— “I’m not done talking about Damian.” He protests, but his eyes are closing on their own, as if all they needed to hear was him agreeing to sleep to do it.

Tucker waves his hand, “It’s not like we can’t talk about him later; nap first. Your eyebags can’t get any darker.” He assures, “Don’t worry, we’ll take notes for you.”

“Hnn… fine.” Danny says, and lets his eyes close. He’s out like a light in minutes.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #dpxdc fics #starrys fics #danny's 'hns' are my favorite thing ever i hope you guys know #the longer i look at this the pissier i get at the word count -- i think its too low -- so im going to post this now without looking #not much thoughts to put here bc all my rambling was left in the ao3 end notes

104 notes · View notes

ellescastleglow · 12 days ago

Text

🩰🍳🌿 Daily Life Aesthetics 🌿🍳🩰

What do you do when you can't motivate yourself to do things without a moodboard, but you don't want to look at a screen? Print the moodboards out of course! These will be going into a binder along with some troubleshooting notes so I can get things done even when my executive dysfunction is an issue. I highly endorse making these, the process was so fun.

Morning Routine

light stretches, the clean feeling of having just brushed my teeth, sesame turkish bread with hummus, reading with bleary eyes, chai lattes, the certainty of knowing exactly what I'm going to do that day, upbeat music, fresh air through the windows, saying good morning to my cat, picking out a cute outfit.

French

the sound duolingo makes when you get 10 in a row, nasal vowels, repeating phrases under my breath, understanding a new sentence for the first time, writing a ç by hand, watching french movies with french subtitles, studying the republican calendar to learn new nouns, understanding cooking and ballet terms instinctively.

Studying

the ritalin kicking in, getting 100% on a quiz, write now edit later attitudes, marginalia, a cup of tea slowly cooling next to my laptop, messy desks, flashcards, today's study schedule on the wall, feedback from professors, watching online lectures at 1.75x speed, going to a cafe to think.

Leaving the House

the sun on my face, buying flowers for the house, the smell of a secondhand bookshop, museums, getting a little treat, sitting in the shade, reading on a park bench, farmer's markets, the sound of rain hitting an umbrella, picnics, finding a cool record, seeing people wearing pretty outfits (and telling them that).

Exercising

winning badminton, feeling not exhausted but satisfied after a game, seeing my muscles actually move when I flex them, happy baby pose, better posture, laughing through the pain when doing bicycles, going on a walk, connecting with my sibling through pilates, high reps on the lightest weight possible.

Going to Therapy

the catharsis of crying, the ache in my chest fading after years of heaviness, allowing myself to be a kid again, feeling more whole, finding parts of me I thought were gone forever, knowing I can handle whatever life throws at me, laughing with my therapist about serious topics, curling up in a safe corner of my room.

Working on my Book

designing characters, research, writing rich descriptions of settings, planning out illustrations and page layouts, bringing imaginary conversations to life, watching over someone's shoulder as they read what I've written, finally getting a frustrating sentence right, dreaming about children who will see themselves in my writing.

Housework

a little nudge from the robot vacuum, the smell of steam coming out of the iron or dishwasher, exhausted satisfaction after finally getting the fitted sheets on, laundry in the wind, everything in its place, a clear mind in a clear space, rinsing the dust off the damp duster, the smell of fresh laundry.

Planning my Week

neat rows of binders, colour coded spreadsheets, calendars with everything in place, vision boards, grocery lists crumpled in a hand, knowing exactly how this week will go, step by step guides to each task, feeling safe in case of emergency, a messy journal and a neat wall calendar, time blocking.

Personal Finance

putting away 50% of my income into savings, being surrounded by beauty, a comfortable sinking fund, transferring money between sub-accounts, getting everything I've ever wanted, investing in things I'm passionate about, creating stability for the future, being debt free, being able to get a little treat with what I've saved.

Participating in my Religion

a cheekful of wine, the presence of g-d in the room, candles on ornate candlesticks, tikkun olam, the cycle of the year, awe as the ark opens, ripping challah apart, the grounding points of the magen david when I squeeze my necklace, playing with tzitzit, praying sounding like birdsong, the dusking of a new day.

Cooking

mise en place, the smell of garlic and spices, bubbling pots on the stove, the whole house warmed up, chatting with my dad, fresh vegetables, mountains of parmesan cheese, the chime of the pressure cooker, pretty plates, sitting down to eat with family and friends.

Showering

double cleansing, feeling literally squeaky clean, gourmand scents, leave in conditioner making my hair feel like seaweed, the tingly feeling of glycolic acid, burberry her mixed with cocoa and coconut, scented candles to set the mood, listening to self improvement podcasts, smooth skin.

Nighttime Routine

cookies and chamomile tea with my family, watching tv, calling 'goodnight' down the stairs, overheads off and warm lamps on, teeth feeling so clean after an everything toothbrush, reading in the faint light, filling out my journal, nighttime yoga, daydreaming about the future, an easy slip into a deep sleep.

#moodboards #self improvement #level up #glow up #becoming her #that girl #it girl #op

25 notes · View notes

nikkento-writes · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 2 - Someone New

I can be a little much, I overthink, I scared you off, my spiral begins right on cue. I wonder if I’ll ever find someone new.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter (coming soon)

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~8.3k

cw: switching POVs (2nd person for reader, third person for Nanami), angst, fluff, alcohol consumption, explicit language

Summary: Nanami normally likes to keep to himself during vacation, preferring not to forge any needless bonds with people he’ll never meet again. But a silly encounter at a bar leads him to find an unlikely vacation buddy at Crystal Shores.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the love and support on this so far! I also appreciate your patience with this. I’ve been very busy with work and my personal life, so I haven’t had much time to write. I’m slowly but surely making my way through! This story is very dear to my heart, so I appreciate you taking the time to read it. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Nanami arrives to his destination after sunset, when the last boat of the day finally docks. He’s in his typical work attire, having completed an early morning mission right before his departure. Tan blazer with matching slacks, a spotted tie akin to leopard print, mahogany brown dress shoes. He’s aware how severely overdressed he is for this type of environment, more apparent now as he traverses through the delicate sand, collecting more and more of the beach with each step of his oxfords. Despite his serious demeanor, Nanami couldn’t be more ecstatic to finally be here. As his feet grow heavy with the diamond dust leading to Crystal Shores, the burden of reality that weighs hefty on his shoulders is gradually lifted. Finally, he gets to indulge in this temporary escape for the next few days.

Since the devastating attack on Christmas Eve six months ago, an event they’re now referring to as The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, tensions within the Jujutsu community have been high. Nanami’s former upperclassman, Suguru Geto, launched this attack in an attempt to carry out his diabolical plan of eradicating humans and non-curse users from the earth. That night, Nanami performed four consecutive black flashes, a record that’s impressive on paper, though in all honestly, Nanami is tired. He usually plans a summer trip annually, ever since he returned to Jujutsu Sorcery. With all the activity happening recently, he’s in dire need for a vacation now more than ever. Satoru Gojo, a teacher at Jujutsu High and Nanami’s senior (though he doesn’t act it) has already begun his recruitment to build a strong class of first years. He suspects the white-haired idiot is going to enlist him to help these kids at some point, so he’s mentally preparing himself for that. And while Nanami has already gotten accustomed to taking the youthful Takuma Ino under his wing, he’s not sure how well he’ll fair with sorcerers that are even younger.

Sorcerers, especially those associated with both Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu High, remain vigilant in order to protect the students, who were targeted for recruitment to carry out Geto’s plan. While dealing with the aftermath, they continue to actively scout young sorcerers, though Nanami is against it, believing children shouldn’t be subjected to this tragic world. He can’t help thinking about his old classmate Yu Haibara, whose life was taken from him too suddenly and too quickly. It wasn’t fair then, and it isn’t fair now, expecting children to take on the considerable responsibility of saving the world from the hidden evil that plagues it. Training them to kill and preparing them to be killed for the sake of humanity. All of it is cruel and unfair, for adults and especially for these kids. However, Nanami doesn’t have much of a say in the matters of Jujutsu High, so he makes a personal vow to himself to do what he can: protect and help others who need it. This power is a blessing and a curse; he might as well use it for good.

Crystal Shores is surrounded by a vast garden of native plants and trees, creating the ideal canopy of green above him. The path leading to the lobby is lit up with torches, the flames waving in the gentle breeze. Every staff member on his way to the check-in desk greets him, their smiles welcoming and genuine. He’s read plenty about this world-class resort, about its breathtaking beaches, five-star service, and their highly-rated amenities. As a self-proclaimed foodie, the part he’s particularly excited for is the local cuisine the island is famous for. Somehow, he managed to secure a reservation at their only Michelin-rated restaurant, having gotten lucky at the time he booked his hotel. Aside from that, Nanami is most looking forward to some much-needed rest and relaxation, whether it be by the pool or by the sea. He’s certain he’ll be in perfect harmony wherever he is here at this resort.

When he approaches the front desk, he realizes his tan blazer is damp from the choppy waters on the way here, so he removes it, folding neatly over his arm. His skin is tacky with perspiration from the day’s travel, the styling gel in his hair worn off, stray strands sticking to his forehead. He’s left his own trail of sand behind him, some of it still mingled with the fabric of his socks. Despite his unusually disheveled state, Nanami couldn’t be more thrilled to be here. He nods at the woman behind the counter, greeting her. “Hello. I’m here to check in.”

Jasmine, according to her nametag, responds cheerfully. “Welcome to the Crystal Shores, sir! We are so excited to have you! Your name please?”

He gives it, trying to inconspicuously tap the rest of the debris from his shoes to no avail. As Jasmine types on her keyboard, a different staff member, a young man with a genial face, approaches him to offer a crisp glass of fruit-infused water. Another soon arrives to drape a floral necklace around his collar. Nanami already feels at peace and he hasn’t even been officially checked in yet.

“Alright Mr. Nanami!” Jasmine claps her hands once, beaming at him. “We’ve got you on the seventh floor, room 727, all the way down the hall, farthest from the elevator per your request. And, of course, with the beachside view. How many keys will you be needing?”

“It’s just me,” he answers, downing the rest of his drink. “So one is fine.”

Jasmine tips her head a bit, seemingly intrigued by this information. “Will your partner be joining us later on during your stay or…?”

Nanami narrows his eyes at her, though she can’t tell through his tinted glasses. What an odd question, he thinks to himself. Still, he answers it, his hackles raised slightly. “I don’t have a partner.”

“Oh! My apologies, I didn’t mean to assume. I was only thinking that if you did have a partner, there’s a couples mixer we like to host on Friday nights down in Event Hall D.” She rummages through a stack of papers, eventually pulling out a flyer with a schedule of events taking place throughout the week. “Our singles mixers are on Monday nights, so you won’t be able to make that. However, if you do happen to meet someone during your stay here, it’s a wonderful little party with all-you-can-eat hors d’oeuvres and unlimited wine, free of charge for our guests.”

He takes the paper, looking at it skeptically. Even he can admit that the words “all-you-can-eat” and “unlimited” are enticing enough to have his curiosity piqued. “Will they let me in if I’m alone?”

“Unfortunately, it is a couples mixers, so the minimum requirement is that you are part of a couple. But who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone while you’re here. They don’t call this the ‘Island of Passion’ for nothing.” Jasmine’s professional smile doesn’t waver, though Nanami can tell the cogs are turning in her brain. For what, he’s not sure, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to know given the direction this conversation is going.

Nanami doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t do dating. It’s a vow he made to himself ever since he returned to Jujutsu Sorcery. Involving another person in his already risky world is complicated, adding love into the mix makes it all the more dangerous. It wouldn’t be fair to himself or to his potential partner to invest in a life together that can be so quickly destroyed every time he fights a new demon or curse. He constantly puts his life on the line without question, and when he has nobody but himself to think about, it makes this job that much easier. A partner would only distract him, force him to think twice before running into battle, make him weak. It’s better this way.

This mindset, however, doesn’t stop him from the occasional fling, especially during his temporary escapes from reality. In this particular case, the alluring promise of endless appetizers is also an added bonus.

He stuffs the flyer in his pocket, not saying anything more about it. “Thank you,” he mutters, no longer suspicious of Jasmine, who only seems to want to push this agenda of finding romance on this so-called “Island of Passion”. Nanami uses all the willpower he has to resist gagging from the ridiculous nickname.

Upstairs on the seventh floor, Nanami rolls his luggage all the way down to Room 727, relieved to finally be settled in. His stomach gurgles, hungry after not having a proper meal all day. He does a quick refresh in the bathroom, not bothering to change out of his dress shirt and slacks. Though, he does remove his spotted tie, not trying to look too much like a man on business rather than a man on vacation.

Just as he’s about to leave his room, his phone buzzes in his pocket. As soon as he sees who’s calling, he immediately rejects it. When it vibrates a second time as he halfway down the corridor, he groans, answering it reluctantly. “I told you to call twice for emergencies.”

“This is an emergency!” Gojo yells into the phone. There’s the distinct sound of background chatter on the other line, as if he’s at a bar, which he most likely is on a Wednesday night in Tokyo. “I thought you were dead!”

Nanami clenches his jaw, restraining from unleashing his wrath on this idiot he unfortunately considers a friend. “Why would you think that?”

“You never responded to my texts!”

A vein throbs in his forehead. “When do I ever respond to your texts?”

Gojo ignores that. “Shoko was worried about you too, Nanamin. Right? Right?!”

Ieiri’s languid voice comes in quietly amidst the chaos. “We wanted to make sure you got there safely.”

The tension in his shoulders ease, knowing this is coming from a good place, at least on Ieiri’s end. He’s convinced Gojo called just to annoy him. Sighing, he responds, “I’m fine.”

“Good. Go and enjoy yourself. We’ve got everything handled here.” For someone as laid-back and seemingly uninterested as Ieiri, she is surprisingly perceptive. Her tone is gentle, reassuring. “Not that you need reminding.” She adds the last part in, her smirk audible through the phone, trying not to give away Nanami’s secret concerns.

He’d be lying to himself if he said a small part of him isn’t worried. As much as he’s trying to remove himself from work while on vacation, there’s always going to be that fear lingering in the back of his mind. What if there’s another attack in Tokyo while he’s not there? What if something happens to his peers? Ieiri, Ino, Ijichi, and yes, even that blubbering idiot Gojo, who he usually doesn’t worry about because he’s that confident in his power. Still, what if?

“Thank you, Ieiri,” he says, genuinely meaning it. Her words don’t completely eliminate his apprehension, though for the time-being, he’s alleviated.

“What about me, Nanamin?! I’m the one who called you first! Shoko didn’t even want to bother you!” He can tell by the whining that Gojo is at that point of the night where he’s on a sugar rush from popping unlimited candied cherries and chugging mocktails courtesy of flirtatious bartenders. And the sooner Nanami placates this nuisance, the sooner he can get off the line to eat dinner.

Through gritted teeth, Nanami murmurs, “Thank you for checking in, Gojo.”

Gojo laughs, appeased. “You’re welcome buddy!”

“And don’t call me again.”

“But – ”

Before he gets another word out, Nanami hangs up the call with a pleased grin on his face, continuing his path to dinner in peace.

~~~

It’s been almost an hour now since you watched the beautiful sunset from the balcony of your hotel room. You’ve been going back and forth with yourself about what you should do for dinner, ultimately deciding to venture out to explore the hotel’s top-notch restaurants. Staying in and ordering room service was the second option, though the thought of eating alone in a room that already feels too big for one makes you depressed. On the other hand, the idea of dining solo gives you a sense of dread that you aren’t proud of.

There’s nothing wrong with having a dinner date all by yourself. People do it all the time. However, you’re ashamed to admit that when you see that, you make up sad stories in your head about why they’re alone. An elderly man slowly eating his split pea soup, who recently lost his wife after fifty lovely years together. A middle-aged salaryman scarfing down a bowl of ramen because he’s on a business trip. A young women all alone, cutting her steak into smaller pieces, wishing she had a partner to share it with.

For goodness sake, why do you do this? It’s unfair to make these assumptions about strangers, who are perfectly content having a meal without a companion. It’s never crossed your mind that people rather be alone than not, only because you could never imagine choosing that for yourself. You’re so used to clinging to someone to prevent the loneliness you’ve always feared throughout life. Your parents, your childhood best friend Kim, and worst of all, Jun. Because of this, you were willing to ignore the warning signs of your failing relationship with your ex. As long as you had somebody, anybody, things would we okay, right?

Nope. Wrong. Very wrong.

You’ve changed outfits four times since you decided to dine at one of the restaurants on the first level. Anything you can do to keep avoiding the most mundane activity of eating dinner alone. You glare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, giving yourself a pathetic little peptalk. Come on. Just go down there and eat something. It’s not a big deal!

Before you can psyche yourself out any further, you leave the room in a sundress, one of many that you packed for this trip, and make your way down the hall towards the elevators.

Nighttime at the Crystal Shores has the lobby buzzing with activity. Some vacationers are dressed to the nines, ready to go out and party at the local hot spots. Others are in comfortable clothes, lounging on couches with colorful drinks in their hands. You’re aware that the resort is home to at least ten different restaurants, so you scope out the front desk, hoping to ask somebody what they suggest for a casual meal, nothing too fancy but satisfying.

Jasmine, the poor woman you unloaded your relationship woes to just hours ago, catches your eye. She greets you like an old friend, beckoning you over and calling out your name. “I was hoping to see you again!”

You approach her hesitantly like a dog with their tail between their legs, still embarrassed about before. “I’m so sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you like that.”

She waves it off. “No need to apologize! I’m sorry about all the lovey-dovey décor in there.”

“No, please don’t be,” you insist. “It was…it was actually really nice. Please tell the staff thank you.”

She smiles brightly at you, nodding. “I will. Anyways, I forgot to mention to you about our weekly mixers here at the resort.” She slides a piece of paper out from one of the piles on her desk, handing it to you. “Mondays are our singles mixers, so you won’t be able to make that. Fridays, we host a couples mixer. All-you-can-eat appetizers and wine, free of charge for our lovely guests.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she doesn’t let you, holding up her hand and continuing. “And yes, I know I said couples. But if you just so happen to meet someone until then, you should definitely go!”

Huffing out a laugh, you say, “Jasmine, you know better than I do that your guests here are already couples. I’m not going to be meeting anyone.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “That’s not true! Between you and me, I have checked-in several eligible bachelors today. You’re on the ‘Island of Passion’! You never know, your new love could be waiting for you down the hall.” Her eyes twinkle, as if she’s using you as reference to write a cliché romance novel in her head.

Aside from how bizarre this all is, especially coming from a staff member you only just met, you find her eagerness to mend your broken heart endearing. You know it’s not going to happen the way she wishes it would, though. Tapping your finger to your chin, you pretend to show consideration for whatever story she’s trying to manifest. “The free wine does sound enticing. That doesn’t really matter though, since my ex is paying for everything while I’m here.”

Her jaw drops, enthralled by this new information. “Really?! Everything?”

You nod, a satisfied grin on your face. “Everything.”

Excited, Jasmine flexes her fingers, directing her attention back to the computer screen, typing away vigorously on her keyboard. “In that case, let me see what activities I can squeeze you into. We’ve got cooking classes, paddleboard yoga, spa treatments…I see you’ve already got a few things scheduled. Great! Oh! How about wine-tasting at a private estate? Hiking on a mountain with a waterfall? You’re sure to meet sexy singles there!”

Before she gets even more carried away than she already is, you hold up a hand, politely stopping her. “Jasmine, while I really appreciate your,” you stall, trying to find the correct word for it, “involvement in this, I don’t think I’m ready to mingle with people yet.”

“But – ”

“Actually, I know I’m not ready,” you reiterate, making your point final.

After some obvious disappointment, she resigns from her little fantasy. “I understand. I’m sorry for meddling so much. When you told me your situation, I really wanted to help. And if helping you meet someone is all I can do from behind this desk, then I figured I should just go for it.”

You smile warmly at her. “Thank you for the concern, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

Jasmine’s meddling, while well-intentioned, is indeed unwarranted. Maybe if this were in reality and not on this stunning island vacation, you’d be annoyed, even offended by her intervention. But this is paradise, where nothing goes wrong, and you’re just another guest passing through. In a few days, you’ll check-out and Jasmine will forget all about you and your sorry situation. No harm in finding comfort over this tiny morsel of camaraderie with a staff member who’s already invested in your love life, or the lack thereof.

Not wanting to continue the topic any further, you change the subject. “Anyways, I’m starving. Is there a place for me to grab a bite to eat? Something comforting, nothing too fancy.”

“Yes!” Back to professional mode, Jasmine points you in the right direction. “Bruno’s Bistro has excellent food and tonight, they have one of the island’s beloved local bands performing. I highly recommend.”

“Bruno’s. Got it. Thank you!”

You follow her instructions, taking the short walk to Bruno’s, where you can already hear the live music playing as you approach the entrance. A hostess wearing a polo button-up with a palm tree pattern greets you. “Welcome to Bruno’s! How can we help you?”

“I’d like a table for one, please.” Saying it out loud brings back the dread in your chest about dining alone, but you stand your ground, determined to conquer this ridiculous fear once and for all.

“Unfortunately, all our tables are occupied at the moment,” she regretfully informs you. “The Bario Brothers are performing tonight, so we don’t expect any availability until an hour from now, when they’re done. I’m so sorry.”

You start to think to yourself that maybe it would have been better to order room-service. Before you can turn around to leave disappointed, the hostess adds, “We have plenty of seating at the bar! You won’t be able to see the Bario Brothers from there, but you can certainly still hear them. And you can order the full menu there. Would you like to do that?”

Relieved, you agree and follow her inside towards the bar, where there is ample seating for you to choose from. You opt for the bar stool in the middle, four seats to the right of an older couple finishing up their meal.

“Enjoy!” the hostess says, leaving you with the young bartender who’s currently pouring a guava-pink cocktail into two highball glasses. Jin, according to his nametag, acknowledges you with a nod and a smile, carefully garnishing his concoctions with mint leaves. “Good evening. I’ll be with you in just a second.”

You think to yourself at how fitting his name for his profession and how ironically similar it is to your ex, Jun. As usual, he comes creeping back into your mind like a never-ending itch lodged in the tiniest, unreachable corner of your brain. Maybe you’re the one keeping him in there, finding parts of him in every single thing you do, every different place you go, always feeling sorry for yourself. Lost in this reverie, you watch Jin place the drink onto a tray on the other end of the bar, where he signals for a waiter in the same palm tree patterned polo to pick it up. He lifts it up gracefully in one hand, heading into the dining area, ready to serve a beautiful couple who’s enjoying the soothing tunes of the Bario Brothers. Fingers entwined beneath the table, taking subtle glances at one another until they both meet each other’s gaze. They hold it there for a second, smiling like they’re sharing a private joke without having to verbally communicate it. It’s moments like this, where nothing spectacular is really happening, surrounded by noise and strangers. And yet, they feel like the only two people in the world because they’re so in love.

“Hello? Miss?”

You snap out of it, Jin waving a hand in front of you to bring you back from your trance. It seems he’s been in front of you long enough to have a concerned look on his face.

Embarrassed, you apologize, giving him your full attention. “I’m sorry. I spaced out for a second. It’s been a long day.”

His expression relaxes, relieved to finally hear a response from you. “I’m sure. Are you visiting from far away?”

You tell him where you’re from, to which he responds, “Oh lovely! I’m visiting family there next year. Have you lived there your whole life?” He pours you a glass of ice-cold water, sliding it towards you.

Taking a sip, you answer, “I have. But I actually just moved.”

“Where to?”

Something about his pleasant and genial demeanor puts you at ease, so you’re honest with him, telling him where you’re now residing as of a week ago, right before you left for this trip.

“How fun! I’ve always wanted to visit there. The food, the fashion, the culture.”

“Yeah,” you agree with him. “I’m excited.”

The couple to the left leaves, bidding farewell to Jin, who waves goodbye to them as he grabs the generous tip they left for him and puts it in the tip jar beside the register. Focusing back on you, he asks, “So what made you leave? School? Work?”

You could easily lie. Not even that, you could withhold the entire truth, keep your answers simple and uncomplicated. However, at this point, you decide to be an open book. Similar to with Jasmine, you feed off this feeling of telling your story to a kind soul who’s willing to listen. “Yeah, it’s for work. That and a breakup.”

You hold back a laugh at the way his eyes widen at this, yearning to know more. But he keeps his reaction tame. “Well, good riddance. Everyone deserves a fresh start, right?”

Thankful he doesn’t push it, you smile at him, nodding. “You’re right.”

He holds your gaze for a split-second longer, showing his solidary to you, before he points you to the menu. “Anyways, can I get you started with any drinks? We’ve got a wide variety of signature cocktails to choose from.”

Remembering the pretty drink from earlier, you ask, “What’s the one you just made? The pink one?”

“Ah! That’s the Guava Goddess. It’s guava nectar we make fresh each morning mixed with the island’s signature rum and a squeeze of citrus. It’s our most popular drink here.”

Sold by his mouthwatering description, you say, “That sounds perfect. I’ll take one of those.”

“Sounds good. How about some food?”

Too hungry and impatient to look through the options, you ask, “What do you recommend?”

“Well, if you’re looking to a try a few different things off our menu, I’d recommend Polly’s Paradise Platter. It’s basically a sampler of our three most popular dishes.” He taps on his fingers, listing each item’s description from memory. “The juiciest sliders made with grass-fed beef, topped with grilled pineapple, all in a freshly baked mini taro bun. Deep fried spring rolls perfectly crispy on the outside and super flavorful and meaty on the inside. And our special veggie fritters made of several types of root vegetables we grow right here at the resort, in the Cornucopia Garden. It’s paired beautifully with our sweet chili sauce, which is also made in-house. It’ll leave you happy and full, I can assure you that.”

You swallow the drool pooling on your tongue, more ravenous now that he’s described the food so vividly. “I’ll take that too!”

“Excellent! Charging to the room or would you like me to open a tab?”

“Room charge is fine. Room 703,” you tell him, pleased that this is actually going on your ex’s bill instead of yours. With that in mind, you add, “Also, make that two Guava Goddesses. I’m feeling extra thirsty tonight.”

Jin gives you a sly wink. “Coming right up.”

It’s empty at the bar now, though you can tell from the ambient noise behind you how packed it is in the dining area. People let out cheers for the Bario Brothers, who strum their guitars expertly while they croon into the microphone, harmonizing with one another in perfect pitch. Jin begins making your cocktails, his hands fluid and graceful as he works his magic.

“So, who’s Polly?” you ask, thinking about the name of the appetizer platter you ordered.

He grins, generously measuring three shots of rum into a cocktail shaker. “Well, as you know, this restaurant is called Bruno’s Bistro. Polly is Bruno’s beloved wife, who inspired all of his recipes. They grew up together right here on the island and got separated when he went overseas to work as a chef. They wrote love letters to each other every day until they were finally reunited back home, where he opened his own restaurant. Now, they live in a private estate up in the mountains. They visit sometimes to see how things are going, but their son is the one who’s taken over almost everything, and he’s great. Next year, they’ll be celebrating fifty wonderful years together, so we’re going to have a big party for both the staff and the guests.” He pours in the nectar next, eye-balling it, before covering it with the lid, ready to mix. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

“Very sweet,” you mimic him, watching him shake the bottle, not knowing what else to say. You think of Jasmine calling this place the “Island of Passion”, which you scoff at. If it is, with love hiding in every little nook and cranny this place has to offer, who’s to say that you’re even capable of receiving it? Maybe you’re not meant to be in love. Maybe it’s not in the cards for you to grow old with somebody, to spend the rest of your life by someone’s side. Why bother looking for love when there’s no guarantee that you’ll attain it, sustain it? You were with Jun for five years only for him to fall in love with somebody else. And while your track record isn’t very long, it basically yields a 100% fail rate. Might as well quit now.

You’re too busy sulking to notice Jin has pushed two attractive cocktails into your line of vision. “Your Guava Goddesses.” He holds up his own glass filled with water towards you. “To fresh starts.”

His tiny toast gives you a small glimmer of hope. You grab one of your cocktails to cheers him. “To fresh starts.”

You take a big swig of your drink, enjoying the bitter taste of liquor balanced by the sweet tartness of the guava and citrus. Another couple arrives, sitting three stools away from you, canoodling each other shamelessly. And that little ray of hope suddenly fades away, once again convinced that you’ll never love again.

Jin is busy with the canoodling customers, so you spare him from listening to your tiresome misery the deeper you get into your cocktails. You should have known that alcohol, a depressant, would sour your mood further, especially as a light-weight. Thankfully, your food arrives when you’re halfway through your second Guava Goddess, so you stuff your mouth with delicious sliders and fritters to stop yourself from using another unsuspecting staff member as your temporary therapist.

Polly’s Paradise Platter lives up to Jin’s high praise of it. Each item satisfies your hunger and leaves you craving more of it until you’re happily stuffed, about a third of the platter left for you to take back to room. You’re feeling better now that you have food in you to soak up the liquor that was sending you into a spiral. Now, you’re enjoying yourself, listening to the live music, which is wrapping up soon, and chatting to Jin about other restaurants to check out at the resort.

Suddenly, a young woman plops into the seat beside you, dressed stylishly in a white jumpsuit with a bejeweled plastic tiara on her head that displays the word Bride. She crosses her arms, grunting loudly, clearly upset.

Not wanting to pry, you avoid her, picking at the last melting ice cube in your drink. She lets out another groan, swiveling in her chair to face you entirely. “Do I look like an idiot right now?”

Startled, you immediately respond, “No, of course not.”

She bites her lip, eyes watering, holding back tears. “Then why is everyone treating me like I’m a fucking idiot?!”

Jin tries to step in to intervene, though you shoot him glance, telepathically telling him that you’ve got this handled. Leaning in closer, you talk to her calmly. “What happened?”

She takes a deep breath, smelling faintly of liquor. “I’m so sick and tired of everything. I’m ready for this whole wedding to be over with. I just want to marry Kai so we can start our lives together already. Everything else is stupid.”

A tear streams down one of her eyes and you hand her a napkin to wipe it. She does carefully, making sure not to mess up her makeup. “I’m pretty sure Lin and Jen hate each other and I know they’re not trying to show it for my sake, but they don’t even talk. This romper is so fucking annoying because I have to strip completely naked just to take a fucking piss. And dinner was four hours ago and nobody brought any snacks, so I’m going to be fucking starving while we’re dancing at the club! This sucks!”

You look at your plate of leftovers, then back at her, presenting her the only solace you can offer her at this time. “Do you want the rest of my food?

She stares at you, contemplating your bizarre suggestion. “Are you serious?”

“I promise it’s clean,” you mention, worried she’ll start yelling at you at how gross this is. “I did double-dip in the sauce, so maybe don’t use that.”

She cracks a smile, some of the stress on her face easing as she pulls the platter towards her, grabbing the last slider. “Thank you. You’re a real life-saver.”

You relax now that her wrath has subsided. “I was already finished anyways, so it’s really no big deal.”

Through a mouthful of food, she muffles, “You’re being a better friend to me than my bridesmaids right now."

“That’s not true,” you say, attempting to mend whatever drama is brewing between strangers. “They took you here, right? That seems really nice to me.”

She nods, biting into a spring roll, bits of the wrapper flying off. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

A blonde-haired man in a blue dress shirt and tinted spectacles takes the empty seat on the other side of the bar. You notice him from your peripheral as you chat with the crying bride-to-be. Still, you continue your pep talk. “Sure, Jen and Lin might hate each other, but they’re not trying to ruin your party. Maybe them not talking is better than them fighting.” It’s weird talking about these people like you know them, but you continue to roll with it, hoping to console her.

She nods, listening to you intently, stuffing the rest of the burger in her mouth. “Yeah, I can tell they’re doing their best.”

“Rompers are super annoying, but you know what? You look incredible. You’re going to be the star at the club tonight.”

She sniffles, giggling at the compliment. “I’d like that.”

“And you know what the best part is? Sure, all of this is overwhelming right now, but you get to spend the rest of your life with Kai. That’s all the matters, right?” You smile at her, hoping whatever you’re saying is resonating. In the background, Jin greets the handsome man with the glasses, offering him a menu.

The entire platter finished now, she smiles back at you. “Yeah. I love him so much.”

You ignore the pang of jealously in your chest as you hand her one more napkin to wipe her mouth, covered in crumbs.

Crisis averted, she lets out a sigh of relief. “I feel so much better. Thank you. I’m Kali by the way,” she introduces herself, offering her hand, oily from your leftovers. You do the same, grinning at her. As if just realizing something, she smacks her forehead with her palm. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She glances down at the empty plate, giving you a guilty look. “You were probably saving all this food for someone else, weren’t you? I’m the worst!”

You laugh, waving your hands at her in reassurance. “Don’t be sorry! I wasn’t saving that for anyone. I was only going to bring it back to the room with me.”

She props her elbow up on the counter, resting her chin on her palm. “Are you here on vacation? Or business?”

“Vacation.”

“Are you here with your boyfriend? Girlfriend? Husband? Wife?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I’m here alone.”

A brow quirks as she studies you intently. “By choice?”

“Well…no,” you admit nervously. “But there’s nothing wrong with vacationing solo!”

“I’m not saying there is!” Kali explains. “I figured an angel like you would definitely be with someone.”

The truth is on the tip of your tongue. You managed the whole dinner without mentioning it to anyone else, and you’re proud of yourself for that. Now you’ve made another new friend and think that maybe she’d be willing to offer you some comfort too. You swallow thickly, admitting, “I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend, but then he broke up with me. Now he’s paying for this vacation we had already planned as a way to make up for it.” You let out a chuckle, knowing it sounds ridiculous.

Kali stares at you, dumbfounded and unsure how to respond. Jin, who’s been in-and-out of earshot this whole time, happens to catch this and joins in. “Are you serious? Your ex is paying for your entire vacation?” By the looks of it, he’s making an old-fashioned for the attractive fellow, who thankfully doesn’t seem to be aware of your conversation.

You nod, confirming it. “Yup. Pretty pathetic, huh?”

Jin shrugs, pouring the amber liquid into a rocks glass, topping it off with a candied cherry. “Definitely not. You get a paid vacation and you don’t have to deal with a loser boyfriend? Good riddance.” His words he said to you earlier are said with more conviction this time.

“Jun isn’t a loser,” you argue, coming to his defense on instinct. “He…he fell out of love with me and fell in love with someone else. It happens.”

“Jun?! His name is Jun?! I’m even more ashamed to have a name so similar to his!” He groans in exaggerated outrage, leaving to serve his drink to the customer.

Kali comes out of her shock to hold your hand in both of hers, a soft expression on her face. “The bartender is right. Good riddance. I don’t know you and I obviously don’t know this ex of yours. If it was so easy for him to fall out of love, maybe it isn’t meant to be. And if it is, he’ll find his way back to you. But at the end of the day, you should be with someone who can’t even stand the thought of ever being without you.” She squeezes you gently, her gaze filled with earnest.

“What if I never meet anyone who feels that way about me?” You swallow thickly, blinking away the tears starting to well in your eyes. “What if I’m meant to be alone?”

Her look of earnest turns into determination. “If you want to be alone, then there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. People live their lives happy being single, and that’s great! But if you want love, you will find it. It may not be now, it may not even be soon. But it’ll happen, I promise you.”

You want to deny her, tell her that she can’t make promises like this because she doesn’t know what the future holds for you. Nobody does, not even yourself. But there’s so much tenacity in her voice that makes you actually believe it. You keep teetering on gaining hope and losing it all at the sight of a happy couple fondling each other in one corner of the bar. Maybe this time, with this new support from Kali, Jin, and Jasmine, you’ll make the effort to keep it. “Okay,” you answer, squeezing her back. “If you say so.”

Kali grins. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s find you another man!” She glances around, searching until her eyes land on the gentleman minding his own business, the stout glass of whiskey tipped to his lips. Spotting him, she leans in close, barely whispering. “This guy’s a little grumpy looking, but we’re going to change that.”

It takes you a split-second too late to catch her drift. Horrified, you try to stop her. “Kali, wait, don’t – ”

“You there!” She points directly at him. “Blond man in glasses!”

You hide your face behind your hands, cheeks scorching hot, mortified. Peeking through your fingers, you watch his head turn towards you, confused by this stranger addressing him so blatantly.

“What’s your name?”

Hesitant, he responds, “Nanami,” taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Nanami. Are you single?”

He chokes on his alcohol, quickly retrieving a napkin to wipe his mouth dry from the sputtering.

Kali claps her hands once. “I’ll take that as a yes! Well, you’re in luck good sir! My dear friend here is also single and is very ready to mingle. Are you interested? I bet she’s a real firecracker in bed – ”

Using physical force now, you grab onto Kali’s shoulders and turn her to face you, interrupting whatever nonsense she’s going to spew out next. “Okay Kali, that’s enough!” You mouth a guilty I’m sorry to him before returning your attention to your friend. “Please stop.”

“But why? He’s hot!” she whines, not bothering to lower the volume of her voice. You’re too embarrassed to look at Nanami again, certain you hear him choke on his whiskey once more at her bold proclamation.

You tighten your grip on her, desperate to make her shut up. “Kali, I appreciate the help, but I’m not here to look for another man. I’m here to relax, okay? I’m fine. I’m totally fine.”

“What about love – ”

You stop her. “If it happens, it happens. You said it yourself: It may not be now, it may not even be soon. But it’ll happen. So let’s just let it happen. Naturally,” you emphasize.

She opens and closes her mouth, trying to find a way to argue with you, though she can’t, especially now that you’ve recited a line from her very own peptalk. Eventually, she relents, nodding with you in agreement. “Naturally. Got it.” Picking aimlessly at the crumbs on the plate, she adds, “But you think he’s hot right?”

In perfect timing, a woman in a black cocktail dress comes stomping towards you, shouting, “Oh my god, Kali! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She hauls Kali up to her feet, giving you an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, I hope she wasn’t bothering you.”

“Hey!” Kali protests, nudging her bridesmaid with her elbow. “We’re practically besties now!”

You smile at them, relieved and a little sad to see your new bestie go. “Not at all. It was nice meeting you Kali, and congratulations. I hope you and Kai live happily ever after.”

She beams at you, waving goodbye enthusiastically as her friend drags her away out the restaurant with surprising strength.

The Bario Brothers have since left and more people seem to congregate at the bar, so it seems like the perfect time for you to leave. Exhausted from all of tonight’s drama, you reach into your purse for cash, leaving a sizeable tip for Jin, who’s busy tending to the other customers now. You glance over to Nanami, who’s currently immersed in a basket of freshly baked focaccia bread. Hopefully he’s already forgotten, or at least disregarded, the little exchange from earlier.

Back inside your room, you change into pajamas and get ready for bed. When you’re tucked comfortably in the covers, you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the mattress that seems to mold around your body. It’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been on, and yet, you find it difficult to fall asleep. Insomnia is another condition you’ve been plagued with post-breakup. The empty space surrounding you is unnerving. You’re so used to having another person beside you, a small sense of security that provided you significant comfort. You never realized how much you needed that until now.

Twenty minutes pass, tossing and turning, switching out pillows, changing positions. Desperate, you get up to walk over to the balcony, opening the sliding door. The natural symphony of paradise outside fills you with ease. You listen to the soothing sound of waves crashing on the shore, the gentle breeze ruffling through the fronds of palm trees. Thankfully, it’s enough to lull you to sleep and by the time the sun rises, you’re relieved to make it to a new day in one piece.

~~~

When Jasmine at the front desk suggested Bruno’s Bistro to Nanami last night, he wasn’t expecting his dinner to be so lively. He’s been so used to keeping to himself during these little trips of his. That’s why it was especially alarming when a random bride-to-be at the bar called out to him, propositioning him to date the woman beside her, who looked absolutely mortified. It shocked him at first, sure. He was eavesdropping on their conversation as soon as he took his seat. While he’s vacationing solo, he likes to people watch as his own form of entertainment, make-up stories in his head or indulge the ones that strangers tell each other out loud. And luckily for him, there was plenty of that just a couple seats away from him.

He found the bachelorette’s insistent interrogation of that poor woman amusing at first, thankful that he wasn’t in the hot seat himself. Then, she revealed her story about her breakup, how her ex is paying for her to be on this vacation as some sort of consolation for breaking her heart. At that, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Nanami is used to being alone, prefers it. For others, it may not be so easy. Although her smile was warm, there was pain behind it, an aura of hopelessness that he’s used to sensing after so many years of dealing with curses who are drawn to energy like that. If they were anywhere else, he’d worry that she’d be an easy target to feed on.

It's because he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he was being called out to until the bride-to-be accurately described him as the “blond man in glasses”. From there, it was all downhill.

Luckily, the heartbroken woman with the pretty smile found a way to stop the madness, even finding the time to mouth a quick apology to him while she subdued the culprit. Normally, Nanami would be annoyed being bothered by strangers; this, however, he didn’t mind.

He smiles to himself as he takes another sip of his coffee, his eyes glued to the same words on the newspaper for the past ten minutes. His mind is replaying last night’s events, wondering if that woman is okay. He’s sure she’s embarrassed, though she seemed to take it in stride. Will he ever run into her again during his stay here? Part of him hopes to, just to make sure she’s enjoying this vacation to the fullest. After all, her shitty ex is the one paying for it all.

“Nanami?”

For the second time on this trip, his name is called out. He folds the newspaper down to see who it is and he’s shocked to find the very woman he had in mind standing in front of him.

“I’m not sure if you remember me from last night,” she starts, hands behind her back, chuckling nervously. “I’m actually hoping you don’t.”

“I do,” he admits, setting aside the paper, giving his full attention.

Her smile slackens a bit, disappointed that he actually does remember. “Okay, well then, I’m here with a peace offering.” She reveals a small bag, holding it out to him. “Consider this my formal apology for last night.”

He takes it, skeptical about what this could possibly be. It seems that she’s waiting for him to open it, so without further ado, he does. The aroma immediately piques his interest, and when he peeks inside, he can’t contain his excitement. “Is this…”

“Yeah, it is,” she answers before he can finish. It’s the famous almond croissant that sells out within minutes of the café opening. There’s countless of articles about this elusive treat, made specially by the resort’s most well-regarded pastry chef, who studied for years in France before returning back to their home island. Nanami had attempted a shot at it first thing this morning, but was met with disappointment when he was told it was all sold out.

Amazed, he asks, “How did you get this? Did you wake up early to stand in line?”

She huffs a laugh. “No. I sort of have this friend at the front desk now, Jasmine. She told me that the pastry chef bakes a special batch just for the staff. When I passed by her this morning, she gave me hers.”

He takes a big whiff of it, inhaling the intoxicating aroma into his bloodstream. “Really? That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah it is.”

There’s that sad smile again, hiding the pain within. He wants to ask her what’s wrong, wants to console her in any way he can. But he knows that would be crossing a line. Besides, why should he care so much for a stranger? Normally, he wouldn’t, so why now? What makes her so special?

He hands her back the bag, shaking his head. “I can’t accept his.”

“What?”

“This croissant is very sought after. I don’t know if you know that,” he explains, holding it even farther from him, refusing to be seduced by the scent. “It wouldn’t be right if I just took it from you.”

She waves him off, taking a step back as if touching it will make it hers again. “Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Please just take it.”

“No. I can’t deprive you of this special moment. It might be life-changing.” As much as it pains him, he’s absolutely determined to deny this croissant. He’s that serious about it.

They stare at each other for a split second, not knowing what else to do. Then, she laughs. A real one, genuine and hearty, warm and full. Her smile is even more pure, cheeks rounded, eyes crinkled at the corners. “Okay. If it means that much to you, then why don’t we share it?"

His chest does a strange thing, something he’s not familiar with. He ignores it to respond with a simple, “Fine,” pointing to the seat across from him at this small table. A compromise. Something the both of them can benefit from.

She sits down, taking a few napkins to surround the croissant as she splits it down the middle, giving him the slightly bigger half. “Bon appétit,” she grins, digging in.

Well, Nanami thinks to himself, taking his own bite into his share. It’s even better than he imagined, the dough perfectly flakey, the center sweet and nutty from the marzipan. It fills him with warmth and comfort as he chews it slowly, watching the women across from him do the same. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

#nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff

47 notes · View notes