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nicolesainz · 3 months ago

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“Written mine on my upper thigh” LN4

Lando Norris x f!reader

Author’s note: My comeback story HAD to be about the winner of the Dutch Grand Prix (by 22 seconds) and @freedaxf1 ‘s husband!! I present to you, possessive Lando Norris

Summary: Lando and you have been having an on and off relationship since your teenage years. While he lives his life in England, you’re back home trying to move on but everything seems impossible. What happens when Lando finally tracks the continues cycle?

Warnings: inaccuracies about Lando’s job and birthday, sexual themes, minors dni, 18+, nicknames, oral sex!

His eyes had been glued to my body for the better part of the night. I must admit mine were doing the exact same, given with how good he was looking. In all the years we have known each other this was one of the times where I have caught myself thinking “I will never share him with anyone. He is mine.”

I had come to London for a play with my friend group and we all decide to collectively separate our schedules and explore the city. In my case, I had been desperate enough to let someone else explore me. I knew that if I spent another month without his touch, I would need to buy a third vibrator.

As I was walking into the fourth bookstore of the day, trying to find as many new romance novels as possible, thankful I decided to pack very lightly, and my luggage had some extra space. It was at the very moment when my fingers laid on Shakespeare’s “Othello” when a raspy British voice tingled my entire body, “No surprise finding you looking at England’s most profound litterateur work.”

I turned around to be met with the most crystal blue eyes I had ever encountered in my life. They also happened to be the eyes of the man that drove me insane for most of my teenage years and fell in love with. I also was not surprised when I caught him licking his lips as he was staring into mine. Usually what that meant in both our minds was “Yours or mine?”

“I am starting to believe you have put a tracker on me given I can’t hide from you.”

“You will never find it sweetheart. I am better at hiding than you will ever be.”

“Now that you mentioned it, a certain pair of panties has me feeling uneasy every time I wear them on dates, maybe that’s your hiding spot.”

“Probably shouldn’t have worn them whilst you were with me. Or even when you weren’t with me, since it’s a sign that I have marked them as mine.”

“A tracker was unnecessary. The universe has sided with you, knowing all my dates were major failures.”

“I won’t lie to you, so I can’t say I am sorry for you baby. After all, I hardly doubt you reached a point with those poor fellas where you screamed their name as loud as you did mine.”

This probably would be an ideal time for him but very unfortunate time for me to admit that I once misnamed one of my dates and used his name instead. And an even more annoying fact that he was right about was that I had never reached a point with any of those guys to moan their names, or even let them touch me.

The past 3 months I hadn’t allowed myself to get physical with anyone else but him. Everyone was slowly starting to wonder why my visits to London were becoming more and more regular. As the months were going by quite fast, the use of my vibrator was becoming an even more usual habit. The moment I die I know there’s a place for me in hell, with the amount of times I have surrendered myself to the captivating voice of this Englishman, making the most unholy thoughts about his tongue and fingers touching the most inappropriate parts of my body, as I slide in my vibrator, imagining his insanely powerful body thumping against mine, groaning and moaning his name louder than a holy prayer.

“What brings you around my place this time? Missed my cock so much couldn’t get enough of it?”

“Friend group getaway if you so badly want to know. And trust me if I wanted to fuck you so much with one single call, I could have made you travel back home and wreck me, like the good obedient boy you are.”

“I think you are mistaking me for you darling. I don’t remember being the one who came knocking on one’s door begging for a night of pleasure. Or the one who screamed the other’s name so loud they lost their voice the next day and wanted to be fucked in front of a mirror so they could see how well I fit inside of them.”

I absolutely hate it how he knows exactly which buttons to push in order to play with my brain. Well, you’re the one who lets him so, it’s more your fault, not his. Although I absolutely love it when he pushes those buttons during sex.

I will never admit to his face that he is the best sex I have ever had. He doesn’t need to know that his ego doesn’t need more boost. Ever since I last saw him, he has changed massively. His hair has turned into a darker shade, the fuzziness in his hair has been replaced by a regular curly cut and only a few strands can be seen from the excess of his beanie. He probably has grown a few inches as well, hopefully his cock has as well.

“Say, how did you find me? If you are stalking me, I should get restraining orders now.”

“Happy coincidence. I was looking for new law books about school. And also, a gift for your birthday.”

My heart stopped when he said he was looking a gift for my birthday. I sent him a month ago for his own birthday a scrap book from my last visit in London with pictures we took of each other of the different sights we visited, maybe a few sneaky ones in bed as well.

“You know you don’t have to buy me anything. A text or a call is more than enough.”

“I know, my love, but nonetheless I had to get you something. Thought it was better than anything else.”

“Surely not better than being with you or hearing your voice.”

After I managed to escape from his eyesight, I went back to my room to get changed for the night out me and the guys were about to have. We mutually agreed not to pull an all-nighter so we would be in time tomorrow for the play. With the chilly weather I was met today, I decided that along with my tight dark blue dress, a pair of see-through leggings would be more than ideal. I was on a call with the girls and as I was applying my red lipstick, a message popped up on my screen.

“Try not to catch a cold tonight babe.”

Such small messages declaring his love for me were everything I was asking for in a man and I am thankful they are parts of him. We weren’t in a proper relationship but to the people that didn’t know me very well like my friends, I was always saying “Oh I have a boyfriend, but he lives in the UK”, because he indeed was the closest things I had to one.

When I finally found the location of the club, I managed to easily spot my friends, and I was greeted with many drinks to pick from. Alcohol heaven for sure. I decided to refrain from drinking over 2 glasses so I could enjoy their company more sober than drunk and in case I needed to carry anyone back to their hotels.

After 2 hours all the girls found themselves dancing on the main floor to a remix of Jason Derulo and Lady Gaga, the dirtier the better. All the lights were flashing on our bodies and every man around us was raising their glasses to the way we were dancing. One certain man though wasn’t very pleased with the way I was dancing.

My vision was slightly blurry, but I could tell from the facial expression and the crossed arms that his blood was boiling and the more I was shaking my ass, the more he was ready to throw hands to the other men that were drooling over me and then grab me from the waist and drag me out of the club. I slowly stopped and was about to go sit down with the boys of my friend group, when I felt a sudden arm forcing me away from the couch.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Or were you not thinking at all?” his voice has risen an octave higher than the music and had shaken me to my core. He has never yelled at me.

“I was just dancing. There’s no need to yell at me.”

“Almost 50 men were one step away from getting on the dance floor and laying their hands on you. Do you call that ‘just dancing’?”

“I wasn’t dancing alone, and I wasn’t the only one dancing in that manner.”

“Do you think I care what the other girls do?”

“I still don’t get where all this possessiveness comes from? I get that we have a good time together, I love you and you love me, but we aren’t in a relationship. You don’t own me. I can do whatever I want.”

“You do whatever you want and yet you let me play with you whenever you’re near me. You never stop me. You haven’t slept with other men since we last met and you always talk about how much you are missing me. I only talk about you to my friends, and I refuse to go on dates knowing you’re in another country saving yourself. So, forgive me if I care about you even though I am not your boyfriend.”

As much as it pains me sometimes to admit, I would give anything for him to be my boyfriend. He is the only man I trust with my heart and body. I hadn’t fallen in love with another man ever since we first kissed back when I turned 18. So yes, I can complain as much as I want.

“Feeling better now? I have stopped dancing, and I will go home to wear my nun costume so no man in sight sees any possible skin from my body. Will this please you? Or should I cover my face as well?”

“What would please me is if I had you every day close to my body, wrapped inside my arms, kissing your every inch day and night, claim you as mine forever but god forbid, we are ever in the same place for at least 2 weeks.”

I do not hold back, and I grab his face into my palms and kiss him fiercely. Every time we kiss, I get more and more intoxicated. I am being drugged by the best possible addictive poison. My heart is filled to the very top and I do not desire anything else more in this world that having him kissing me until my breath is cut short.

His tongue dances with mine and the feeling of vodka mixed with gin burns my throat in a pleasing way. I can feel my lipstick being smudged all over his face and as my hands are wrapped around his neck, my leg finds its way around his waist to pull him closer to my body. Everything betrays his power on me as I can feel him growing against me and moaning softly.

“Not here. I need you all for myself. Where are you staying?”

In just a few minutes I find myself slammed against the shower wall, with the water covering both our bodies, extending the heat. His lips found their way on my neck and his fingers are playing with my hardened nipples. My mouth can’t possibly contain the ungodly moans that he is producing and fuck him nothing can ever top this.

“Say once more than you aren’t mine and I will stop being gentle with you.”

“I am so yours. No other man kisses me the way you do. No other man touches me the way you do.”

“No sweetheart, no other man is allowed to touch you. Get it?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Words barely are being phrased properly as I scream in pleasure when he softly bites my nipple after having bitted my collarbone. I have come to terms with the fact that I love it when he is biting me. It’s his way of showing that he loves me. I literally have no control of my body the moment he lays his kisses on me. Its absolutely beautiful.

“I love no one else but you. Oh, how I adore you.” I manage to mumble through the groans.

“What an angel you are. From the moment I met you I knew I was done. Oh, you are never leaving my grasp.”

“Then don’t make me leave. I can be yours, I am yours.”

He then proceeds to fall on his knees, so he can be met with my womanhood as he raised my leg over his shoulder for better view.

“Facetiming you will never compare to the real deal. Oh, my beauty.” And my hands instantly grab against his hair and pull then tightly as his tongue is toying with my wet core. Every inch of my body is trembling and I can’t physically stop moaning his name that by now even the neighbours are well aware of his existence.

“Be mine. Be mine forever. I will give you anything, all I want in return is you.”

“Don’t stop. Oh, I missed you. You take care of me better than anyone else.”

“I can’t go another 3 months without seeing you. Stay with me.”

“I love you but oh my, you know I can’t.”

“Be my girlfriend. Please let me be yours. Let me claim you as mine. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life.”

I look down on him as his lips detach from myself and the cold breeze of the shower hits me with an open mouth from the shock he just caused. I never in my life thought he would ask me to be his girlfriend. It made my heart shutter when I couldn’t have him years ago and now that I am given the chance, everything restored. All I could possibly ask for.

“You probably found the best timing in the world to ask me such question. At my most vulnerable.”

“Want me to ask you after I am finished eating you up darling?”

“I mean, no, my answer would be the very same.”

“Which is? Care to share with an impatient man?”

“A million times yes. Do you think I have spent all this money in visiting you for you to ask me that question and then say no? I would have been insane.”

“You kind of are insane.”

“Excuse me?”

“You go insane every time we kiss and then you drive me insane so we are even.”

“Insane boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Surely the perfect match.”

#lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months ago

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Knock knock, whos there?

A reader who's very sad at how empty the Ftm Reader X Jason Todd tag is.

Can we get something sweet between the two of em? Maybe just something depicting a slow morning? Thank you if so, <3 Im longing for more food.

-🐊🪶

Jason Todd x FTM reader

Headcanons

Im basing the readers experiences off of myself, so it may not fit all trans readers and what they’ve gone through. I also gave them pet cats, because I love cats. The reader being trans doesn’t fill much of this, since it doesn’t effect their relationship a lot, but I hope you still like it.

On days where there we no plans, no druglord word, no Red Hood or batfam work, and you had time off from your job or classes, Jason and you liked to take it slow.

The two cats Jason had found on patrol one night laying splayed out on the bed like they owned the place. One was a very large tomcat with big puffy cheeks, even after being neutered, the second cat was smaller, scrawnier but so very long. They had smartly been named Tomcat and Longcat by Jason.

On days where you two liked to sleep in, you could find yourselves being awoken by the beautiful sound of Longcat yowling like was dying, because neither of you had filled their bowls on time. Tomcat was a big baby, but liked you more than Jason, so the moment Jason gets up to feed Longcat his spot is stolen.

Since he’s already up and his spot had been stolen by a cat the size of a medium sized dog, Jason just decides to start going about his day. He ends up finding outfits for you two for the day, and if you wear a binder hell ask if you want to wear one today or not.

Your handsome partner always gives you a kiss before leaving the bedroom, Tomcat tries to get in the way though. It just results in Jason giving Tomcat a bit smooch too, which the cat just wags his tail at.

You’ll keep lying in bed for maybe another 15 minutes, just snuggling with Tomcat and listening to the sound of Jason taking his shower and brushing his teeth, sometimes at the same time. Longcat is meowing the entire time of course, thinking that Jason is drowning.

You let Jason finish up before getting up, tucking Tomcat in after getting up as you should, before going about your own routine. After your shower you stand and airdry for a while if you have to put on a binder, since you can’t pull those on with damp skin.

This is where youll stand half asleep and brush your teeth, Tomcat and Longcat both watching you, one from the tub and one from on top of the toilet. Its also where Jason likes to come up behind you and just hug you as he buries his face into your neck for a bit.

The morning hug and kiss is needed for his day to go well, that’s what Jason says anyways. If he doesn’t get a kiss from you then his whole day is doomed to go badly in one way or another.

He makes sure to hug you before you apply your T gel if you use that, since he knows he isn’t allowed to touch you after applying it. Hes also an expert at helping you inject T if you need it, and you do it from home. Or if your injection point is still aching from your last injection, then Jason is your guy in making it feel better.

If you’re a breakfast person you two will go into the kitchen to make something. On days like this, Jason can be tempted to make a bigger for complicated breakfast. Most days breakfast is an easy and quick affair though.

Longcat is of course still meowing for treats, acting like he hasn’t been fed and like hes still a streetcat living on scraps. Tomcat is just your big hovering shadow, watching from the doorway into the kitchen with his tail neatly curled around his front paws.

You two end up just eating breakfast on the couch as you watch whatever you two can find, though its most likely a comfort show or movie, something you two have watched many times before.

Jason takes the empty bowls or plates into the kitchen before coming back, so you two can cuddle some more as you’re both still quite tired after Longcats very loud awakening.

Jason never minds what you wear or how you wear it, as long as youre comfortable, so you being trans doesn’t really make any difference in your guy’s mornings together. Just what Jason finds for you to wear, and if your hormone treatment makes any differences.

It’s very hard not to fall back asleep on the couch, especially as Jason pulls you to his chest and wraps a blanket around you both.

Tomcat and Longcat obviously quickly join you, both of the cats curling up in whatever nook and cranny they can find and purring up a storm, making both you and Jason more and more sleepy.

You both don’t mind that you fall back asleep on the couch together, since there’s nothing planned for the day, and what’s playing on the tv is something you both know front to back. It just feels nice to be able to let go and drift off again together, even if it’s not in bed.

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muffinsin · 2 months ago

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I just had a thought 🔥🔥(should have been a ice emoji considering the request..) can you do a reader whos kind of serious most of the time but thats because they are a cryokinesis user an can manipulate ice an make things freeze so they are really careful to not use their powers near the daughters especially

That sounds hella cool, hon!🙌 For funsies, imagine they themselves had that ability. Rip, little flies! Thankfully that’s not the case, though it’s an awesome idea for reader! :)

Let’s get into it

Masterlists

Bela

Ever since you started working at the castle, you heard rumors, here and there

Bits by bits, whispered theories of what to do and not to do to avoid punishment

Among being tidy and quiet, polite and friendly, there has always been one obvious task:

Be mindful around the windows

You’re not permitted to open one without permission in winter, and all those who do or accidentally break one are dragged to the basement

The residents of the castle, especially the three murderous sisters, screech in anger every time the window cracks open just a bit already

And each time it’s followed by punishment and the disappearance of yet another staff member

You, of course, notice all these

It doesn’t take you long to figure out their secret

It’s not entirely well hidden, after all

As such, it becomes your task to use your powers as little as possible

You know, even a little bit of ice would send you right to the basements

And, all in all, it goes very well

Sure, some tasks take painfully long and are awfully boring

You feel a little stressed, sometimes being startled and having to make sure your powers are never used

You try very hard to stay in the background, and only once nearly had a slip up

Then, you were startled and accidentally froze Lady Bela’s fork, who immediately dropped it

For the next couple of weeks the castle was locked tight, the staff and ladies trying to find whatever could have caused this

Thankfully, with summer around the corner the incident was quickly forgotten

You have little contact with the women as is, and have little problem containing your abilities at the few times you are around them

Then, this changes, when you get close to one of them

Bela Dimitrescu, the eldest of the three sisters, the heiress of their mother, the countess of castle Dimitrescu

Being close to her is something you want, badly

She’s smart, even cocky sometimes

As you get to know the cold, coolheaded woman, you find she can even be quite playful

You enjoy your time with her immensely

You enjoy getting to know her immensely

She’s quickly becoming more and more important to you

You confide in her when maidens bother you

In turn, she sometimes confides in you, whispers spoken between the two of you as she tells you of her burdens

And, you’re always there to comfort her

Only are you anxious

Now you must not only focus to hide your powers and stop yourself from freezing objects, but are fearing you may outright freeze her

Especially when she eventually feels more comfortable around you, and pretty much only you

Being selected to be a part of her private personal, Bela is pretty much your job

Her needs, her tasks, her desires

Due to the friendship and closeness the two of you have developed, these tasks shift a little

Such as when, after a particularly hard and long day, she asks you for a massage

Your breath hitched then

You knew you couldn’t- and didn’t want to- refuse

And still, your hands shook a little and you concentrated hard as your hands came in contact with her thin dress and the smooth, porcelain skin underneath

For long, you are scared to touch her

At the same time, you can’t tell her why. You have no way of gauging what her reaction will be

You’re more than capable of killing her, especially should you catch her off guard

Would she still be with you?

Or would she lock you away? Warn her sisters and wait until her mother disposes of you?

You decide not to risk it

As such, you’re on edge each time you massage her

At the same time, you offer her one more and more often, disliking to see her so tense and in pain

And in time, you become a little more comfortable

You never hurt her, thankfully

And you vow to yourself: you never will

Cassandra

Meeting Cassandra first in the village, she takes an interest in you almost immediately

After all, the other villagers seem somewhat wary of you

They respect you, but she senses fear and suspicion, too

She immediately wants to know why that is

Why are you so special?

Alas, your secret is well kept, and it frustrates her to no end

But, even as she visits the village often during summer, you gain a break from obsessively hiding your powers in winter

You think, you can hide your abilities from her

Only does she soon pick up on the fact you hunt for a living

And, as a predator and huntress herself, she soon realises you have no tools with you at all

Sadly, this only intrigues her more

You’re constantly stalked by her, curiosity getting the best of her

You know, Cassandra Dimitrescu is fully aware that you’re hiding something

And she’s very intent on finding out what it is

Even before you get close to her, before you find out about her weakness, you know to hide your abilities

The villagers are already wary of you

You’re sure if Cassandra was to find out, you’d soon be in row to be one of Mother Miranda’s infamous test subjects

At last, you’re granted to hunt normally in winter

But, even with your abilities allowing you to craft tools to hunt and sell your loot for good coin, money soon runs out

There’s less and less lei in the village, so that even should you return after a successful hunt, there’s hardly anyone to still sell your loot to

Even the Duke isn’t in constant need of meat and fur

And, of course, you aren’t oblivious to who does still have enough money…the lords

As such, the lack of money to keep yourself alive leads you to working at the castle, employed by Alcina Dimitrescu

It’s no surprise Cassandra is immediately on you again

And despite the head maiden’s advice not to make yourself known or pull any attention your way, you’re immediately spotted by the sadist

She bothers you as you work constantly, is always looking over your shoulder

You wear gloves as much as you can, praying they might just prevent you from accidentally freezing something

She brings you to the basements, as though it’s a fun trip, and shows you her favorite tools

In time, when this keeps happening and she shows you a new weapon each time she obtains one, it all clicks into place and you realise;

She likes you

She never threatens you, even down in the basement

Instead, she seems enthusiastic to show you the weapons

Not to intimidate you, not to scare you. To share something she’s passionate about

Maybe it’s because you don’t judge her. Maybe it’s because you’re different too, even if she can’t yet figure out why

But she likes you

And seeing her in this new light, you find: you like her too

You like her, and you like her confidence

You like how she shares her interests with you, all the things she’s so passionate about

In time, you come to care for her, too

You defend her against stupid maids bickering about her behind your back, knowing she could snap them in half herself

In turn, you quickly rise in the hierarchy of the castle, unofficially made Cassandra’s second in command, even

You’re hers, indirectly, under her protection

You’re even allowed outside, granted to hunt like you always have

Only is she still often hot on your trail, waiting for you to slip up and reveal your secret

Once, you’re close to revealing it

She’s still outside, even as temperatures drop dangerously

You know of her weakness, remember how she’d get cranky in winter and flinch when your unusually cold hands accidentally made contact with her fingertips upon handing her something

Without overthinking it, you rush out into the woods to find her

You’re hardly worried about the Lycans out, capable of defending yourself perfectly well

And unlike Cassandra, the cold has nothing on you

Soon you find her and, supporting her weight by letting her lean on you, begin to guide her back to the castle

She doesn’t seem surprised about your lack of surprise to her reaction to the cold. As if she knew you were aware of her secret

Or, maybe she’s just too cold to panic

Either way, you make good progress, yet tense when loud wind turns to an aggressive storm

She howls in pain as the wind hits her harshly, specks of snow hitting her in the face and bruising the beautiful skin

Immediately, you consider rising a giant wall of ice to stop the storm from reaching her

And just as fast, you stop yourself. You can’t risk revealing yourself, can’t risk her finding out and telling the cult’s leader. You can’t risk what this would mean

You can’t risk losing Cassandra

You wrap your clothing around her instead, yet you don’t get far before her eyes slip shut, her body dangerously fragile with the assault of the cold wind

Her closed eyes are all you need to rise a wall immediately, your hands working fast until you’re surrounded by thick walls of ice

While cold on the inside of these walls, Cassandra seems fragile, but stable

And when she awakens wrapped in your clothing and surrounded by ice, you act as clueless as her, claiming you found it and used the structure for shelter

She doesn’t fully believe you, but can’t explain it either, allowing you to get away with it

Briefly, you wonder what life would be if you told her then

Daniela

Working at the castle, you know not to arouse suspicion

You know not to pull any attention to yourself, even if you were an ordinary staff member

After all, there are plenty dragged to the basement for simply making mistakes

You have no doubt you would await and even worse fate if you revealed your abilities

After all, most are dragged to the cellars for the simple mistake of leaving a window open or so and allowing the cold to intrude

You don’t doubt you would be dragged down the cellar if even a small burst of ice came from your fingertips

As such, you generally try to lay low

You wear gloves whenever possible, try to work in private as much as you can

You keep away from others, paranoid, but sure, that if one of the maids was to find you use your abilities, this would be reported to the mistresses of the castle immediately

Keeping to yourself works for a little bit, too

Until you eventually have one of the women’s eyes set on you

The golden eyes of the youngest sister, Daniela Dimitrescu, ever set on you

She’s friendly with you in no time

And still, you freeze when she holds your ungloved hand in hers for the first time

Cold as ice, she immediately drops it again, flinching back as if in pain

You feel bad immediately, pulling your hand and hiding it against your chest

Only does she reach for it again, and you realize her soft, porcelain-like skin crack ever so slightly in your hand

You wish you could be a little warmer for her

And still, if she suspects anything unusual at play to influence your body temperature, she doesn’t voice it

She finds you to be quite serious, nearly at all times

You’re tense, hardly playful

But, in time, the sadistic, sweet, rather deranged woman does break through the walls you so carefully put up

You find yourself caring for her

You find yourself enjoying her company

You find yourself liking her

You find yourself waiting for her to bug you when you work

You find you no longer mind when she’s around you, even enjoy it

And of course, Daniela picks up on this

While you’re still so very serious for some reason, you shoot her smiles occasionally

And, to your surprise, she doesn’t stop touching you despite the pain it causes her

It seems, she’s by far more touch starved than you assumed she was, going great lengths to feel one’s touch even if it causes her discomfort

You’re determined to give her comfort, though

As such, you keep a pair of thick gloves with you to slip on whenever she wants to hold onto your hand

It helps you feel more at ease too

You figure the gloves will prevent you from freezing her petite fingers off, if not her entire hand

And as such, you grow more and more comfortable around her

She doesn’t push, despite knowing you have a secret. Instead, she only enjoys your company

She tells you of her day, of her sisters and mother

In return, you share stories with her

She joins you as you work, usually sitting at a counter and reading out loud from her newest book

You find- you appreciate the company

Sometimes, you share your thoughts with her or tell her your theories on what will happen in the next few chapters

This excites her. No one ever indulges her the way you do!

At other times, you only hum along, working quietly but letting you know that you’re listening to her

You soon begin to care immensely for her

As such, when you realise how stressed and tense, sad and worried she is during winter, you decide to help her out

You help her keep warm by retrieving numerous blankets, bring her snacks and flowers you find in the gardens

But, most of all, you help her in the way only you can

Often, you’re asked to stay the night with her, especially when she doesn’t want to stay alone and can’t sleep

In such nights you use your abilities, manipulating the storm and ice to retreat from her windows

As such, her room and the fire has no difficulty keeping her warm all night long

She calls you her guardian angel soon, realizing that somehow, the storm and the cold is never as bad when you’re there

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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hanjisick · 2 years ago

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yandere skz reaction… to a creepy coworker

warning. this is not how i portray the members of stray kids or how you should either. this is purely for entertainment purposes.

trigger for violence, murder, harassment

wc. 1.8k

bang chan.

chan’s phone would ring late at night, as he waited for you to arrive home. normally, he would be overjoyed with a call from you, but instead, his face contorted in worry.

it was unlike you to call him at such a time.

“y/n?” he answered, voice laced with concern.

“hello? chan? remember how you were going to pick me up to go to my parents house tonight? you’re on your way, right? i’ll be in the parking lot.”

chan was very intuitive. he could understand immediately from your shaky tone that you were in danger, and that he needed to get there. and quickly.

“yeah. i’m on my way.” he would respond, already tearing apart his room to find his shoes.

chan was thankful that the police were looking the other way that night, because he was speeding like a maniac, terrifying thoughts plaguing his mind.

“y/n?” he shouted out, slamming the car door behind him.

he saw you bolt towards him, leaving behind a person that he couldn’t quite make out through the dim streetlights.

“oh thank god, chan,” he welcomed your tight hug, “get in the car. we need to go.”

on the way home, you told him about your horrible coworker, about how gave you his number, invited you back to his place, and was insistent about it until you had lied and called chan.

you didn’t notice how his hands gripped the steering wheel so right that his knuckles were white, “do you mind sharing his number with me?”

he would have to do some digging that night.

lee minho

minho didn’t mind that you had a job. in fact, he encouraged it. part of him enjoyed stalking you, seeing exactly what would happen when you thought that you were out of his supervision.

the sadistic side of him wanted so badly to see you interact with others, to give him an excuse to take someone’s life, especially one that would cause tears to fall from your pretty little eyes.

so when he began to see another man hang around you, he thought that this would be his chance. that the other boy would promise a type of love that minho would never give to you— a healthy one.

but it wasn’t exactly like that, upon further investigation. instead, you were uncomfortable with his lingering touches and sly comments.

it didn’t take long for him to find his home and tear his body to shreds with his bare hands. a sinister grin would appear on his face. oddly, he looked more forward to the screams of this man than your own when you would find out.

he would take a souvenir, his favorite thing to do. it would be his arm, the same one that he used to touch your waist. the waist that was meant for him.

minho didn’t understand the side of him that itched so badly to hear the man’s screams. perhaps there was a part of him that wanted to protect you, rather than hurt you.

how strange.

seo changbin

unlike minho, changbin would be the least in favor of you having a job. which is why you would have to be in the beginning stages of your relationship to have one in the first place.

“can you call off work today, darling?” he would whine, holding onto you a little tighter than usual.

“you know that i can’t.”

unable to stand the idea of someone hurting you, touching you, yelling at you… the list goes on, he followed you to make sure that nothing would happen.

only ten minutes into your shift, and his worst nightmare happened.

“i have a boyfriend,” you told your coworker.

“that doesn’t matter, i’m sure that i could be better than him.”

“stop it. i’ll have to tell the manager.”

“you wouldn’t do that to me. you want me just like i want you.”

changbin would see red.

he would have to contain his anger for long enough to not get arrested. he couldn’t kill him in broad daylight. instead, he would allow himself to finally let you know of his presence, pulling you into his chest.

“changbin!”

“you’re quitting. i won’t ever let you leave my sight if this is what the world is going to try and do to you. you’re for my eyes only.”

hwang hyunjin

you trusted hyunjin enough to confide in him when you began to grow concerned about your coworker.

he would listen as you explained how he had been touching you more than usual, saying flirty lines, obviously trying to get together with you.

all of this was spilled out to him the night after he asked for your number, as you laid on top of him with your head on his chest.

“i just don’t know what to do, hyun. i told him no, but he kept insisting until i got off. and we have to work together again tomorrow.”

hyunjin would bite his lip as he listened to your obvious discomfort, contemplating all of the ways that he could end this persons life without you suspecting that it was him.

he did his best to comfort you, saying that he would come pick you up immediately if it escalated. but hyunjin wouldn’t let it go that far.

instead, while you thought he was scrolling through his phone to fall asleep, he was looking for the man’s address, ready to slip out the door once you had fallen asleep, and to make sure that he wouldn’t show up at work tomorrow. or to anything ever again, unless it was his own funeral.

“goodnight, my sweet y/n.”

han jisung

jisung would never miss a single shift of yours. no matter how long they were, he would always need to keep an eye on you. and every break that you had would be spent drowning in PDA with him.

jisung was already on edge, watching you train a new employee, sitting at a booth in the restaurant that you worked at.

“so, to cut the sandwich—“ you stood over the new boy, and jisung was leaning in his seat as if he were watching an intense scene in a movie. your coworker grabbed your hand, placing it on top of his.

“guide me,” he smirked as you hesitated, eyes meeting jisung’s, who’s own eyes were crazed, ready to pounce if you didn’t take your hand away in the next few seconds.

“i can’t do that.” you turned your attention back to him.

“that’s a shame, your hands were so gentle, i wouldn’t mind holding them.”

that was jisung’s last straw.

in an instant, your coworker was on the floor, a sandwich knife lodged into his throat.

“her hands are mine,” he screamed out, “mine! you can’t touch them!”

lee felix.

“felix, i don’t know what to do,” you cried into your boyfriends hoodie as he shushed you, hands rubbing your back soothingly.

“what happened, pretty girl? i promise i can help.”

you fished your phone out of your pocket, nudging it into his side. “go to my texts and read the most recent one.”

felix picked it up, unlocking it. you watched his expression carefully, not missing the way that he grit his teeth, jaw clenched tightly.

“you haven’t responded to any of them, but he’s still going,” he commented.

you nodded against his chest.

he kept scrolling, until he got to the most recent one. the one that caused you to come home bawling your eyes out. and in the blink of an eye, he was calling the number.

you didn’t have the strength or will to stop him, already knowing what your boyfriend was capable of.

“this is y/n’s boyfriend,” he almost growled into the phone, “you have less than ten minutes left to live until i’m at your door.”

just hearing his sickening voice was enough to make felix throw your phone against the wall, using the last bit of the sanity left in him to gently push you off of him.

“i’ll be back soon, my angel.”

kim seungmin

the past few days, seungmin had noticed that something was definitely off.

seungmin thought that he had done something wrong. perhaps the lunch that he had packed you wasn’t good recently. did you change your favorite kind of chips? or it could’ve been that he didn’t buy you a new phone recently.

whatever the case was, seungmin needed to figure it out, and fast, because he couldn’t stand to see you as unhappy as you were.

“did i do something wrong?” he asked, his puppy eyes hitting something deep in your soul as he followed your slumped shoulders around, looking for answers.

“no,” you sighed, allowing yourself to at least give him some explanation, “it’s something about work. i don’t think you can fix it.”

“i can fix anything. just tell me what’s bothering you.”

but you shrugged him off, so he did what any concerned boyfriend would do, and followed you to work.

it became evident that it was a coworker of yours that was harassing you.

instead, he would show up behind you on your break, “is he bothering you?”

“seungmin, why are you here?”

“is he bothering you? do you need me to take care of him?”

“what are you talking about?” you tried to play dumb.

“i’ll ask again. is your coworker bothering you?”

you sighed in defeat. “i don’t want to start anything, i’m hoping that he’ll just leave me alone if i don’t do anything.”

“i want a straight answer. he the reason that you’ve been upset lately?”

“yes.”

“then i’ll take care of it for you.”

yang jeongin

you would be at the mall with jeongin when you saw your horrible coworker across the same shop, mentally cursing to yourself as you tried to convince jeongin to go elsewhere with you.

“this shop is boring, baby, we could go look at that other one.”

“but you were so excited to come here?”

“y/n?” you whipped your head around to see the godforsaken man that you couldn’t stand.

“what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?”

jeongin squeezed your hand tighter than before.

“and who’s this guy?”

“he’s the boyfriend that i’ve told you about thousands of times,” you grumbled.

“doesn’t seem like much,” he looked jeongin up and down, “i’m sure he wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

“i didn’t think you’d be this bold in front of him.”

“anything to have a chance with your—“ jeongin’s fingers were wrapped around his throat, shoving him into a clothing rack with an animalistic look in his eyes.

“who the hell do you think you are?” he yelled out, his shoes landing right into the stomach of the guy who was already groaning in pain.

“you’re lucky i’m not going to kill you right here in front of her.”

requested. masterlist. /@hanjisick

1K notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 9 months ago

Text

california - nanami kento

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 10k warnings: swearing, jjkverse trauma summary: nanami kento left jujutsu society behind years ago. (y/n) spent that time moving on, thinking she'd never see him again. then she stumbles across a letter that suggests otherwise... more info: slowburn friends to seperation to lovers, reader is annoyingly angsty being seperated from nanami tbh but who wouldn't be ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i shouldn’t have done it but i read it in your letter // you said to a friend that you wished you were doing better // i wanted to reach out but i never said a thing ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her good days, (y/n) didn’t think about her time as a student at Jujutsu Tech. She was able to complete her assignments, help train a few of Gojo’s students, and complete her paperwork at a decent time, all before leaving for the day at a semi-decent time.

On her good nights she’d have a glass of wine after a simple dinner, take her time with her skincare routine before bed, and fall into a dreamless sleep, until her alarm inevitably woke her up to start it all over again.

A good day came once in a blue moon- and after a google search one night after a couple extra glasses of wine, she thinks a good day might rival the frequency of a blue moon.

Every task of every day seemed to go by in a hazy blur, and if you were to sit down and ask her how her day was, she’d struggle to answer the specifics of the question.

“Fine,” She shrugs back at Ieiri Shoko when she asks her one afternoon. “Yours?”

“You don’t look fine,” Shoko dodges the redirected question with her candid response. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages”

She’s not wrong, and (y/n) knows she doesn’t look great. Getting an average of four hours of sleep each night, on top of having a highly physically demanding job, the body could only handle so much. The bags under her eyes had bags, and since losing her only tube of chapstick, she hadn’t found the time to stop into the convenience store and pick up another one.

“That’s why you’re the doctor” (y/n) mumbled back.

She hadn’t sought out Shoko’s company, but she was the only one of her colleagues that she didn’t actively push away. Even if the smoke from her cigarette made her the tiniest nauseous after quitting the habit years ago. She was different from the others. Not overbearing, and never too chatty. If she was held at gunpoint and forced to answer, (y/n) would tell you that Shoko was the closest thing to a friend that she had.

Only at gunpoint, though.

“You ever thought about cashing in some vacation time?” Shoko muses.

She finally turns away from the burnt out sorcerer, leaning back against the outside wall of the infirmary and puffing on her cigarette. (y/n) had stepped out for some fresh air- which really meant a break from Gojo pestering her while she did her reports- and just so happened to run into the old… friend.

“Nowhere I want to go” She answered lamely. Shoko fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well some downtime would do you good. Like a staycation, you know?”

“Don’t think it’s in the cards, Sho,” (y/n) sighed, pushing off the wall and turning to head inside. “Besides. There’ll still be curses roaming around, won’t there?” She asks, glancing back at her, only to find the woman frowning.

One thing about Shoko? She didn’t express much. Since their school days, she’d mastered holding a neutral face, never quite letting anyone know what she was thinking. Maybe it was just the way she coped with everything.

“There’ll always be curses” Shoko replies before (y/n) could disappear back inside.

She catches her just as she’s stepping over the threshold, freezing up when she speaks because even with how badly she wants to be done with the conversation, she can’t bring herself to shut Shoko out. Not completely, anyways. And not literally.

So she sighs, and doesn’t glance back at her when she forces more words out from between her teeth.

“Then I guess I’ll always be busy”

Shoko doesn’t say anything else before the door’s sliding shut and (y/n’s) gone.

It was the longest conversation they’d had in months. If you could even call it a conversation.

They used to talk all the time, sneaking out to smoke or crashing in each other’s rooms with a stash of magazines and R-rated movies. They used to be actual friends. But that was a lifetime ago and as far as (y/n) was concerned, completely unattainable now.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can’t tonight, got big plans with Shoko,” (y/n) says, popping a piece of strawberry taffy in her mouth. She’d stolen it from Satoru’s stash just a few hours ago, keeping it safely hidden in her pocket until he was no longer around to catch her savoring it. “Yaga gave me an assignment first thing in the morning, but we could hang out after?”

Nanami Kento knows that the candy she was rolling over her tongue didn’t belong to her, and he knows he’ll probably have to lie to his obnoxious upperclassman once the idiot notices a piece has gone missing. He’s not above lying, but he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Especially to the face of the strongest sorcerer. But when (y/n) produces another parchment wrapped piece from her pocket and passes it off to him, he takes it for the price of that lie.

“Tomorrow works,” Nanami agrees softly, peeling away the wrapper of the green sweet. “We should probably study for the upcoming exam-”

“Sweet! Taffy!”

Another voice interrupts the conversation, and it’s no surprise to see Haibara Yu bounding up to the two of them. With stars in his eyes and a face splitting grin, neither (y/n) nor Nanami could be annoyed with him for butting in between them with an outstretched hand.

“Sorry, Yu,” (y/n) frowns, holding up the empty wrapper from her piece between her index and middle fingers. “Fresh out”

Just as Yu turns to his other friend, Nanami’s already popped the key lime flavored piece into his mouth. The bright grin on Yu’s face falls into a dramatic frown.

“It’s Gojo’s anyways, go ask him for a piece” Nanami says gruffly, raising his eyebrows in a pointed stare, silently telling his colleague to take the hint and leave them be.

Yu’s obvious in the way he opens his mouth and nods along. He thinks he’s being smooth when he stammers out an excuse about ‘having to be, uh, somewhere’ before scampering off and giggling into his hand.

“Great, he’s totally gonna tattle on me now” (y/n) groans, but something about the idea of a confrontation with Gojo Satoru himself makes her smirk with excitement.

Nanami recognizes the look and as stupid as it would be to go toe to toe with the Six Eyes user over a few pieces of taffy, his lips twitch in amusement seeing the mischievous look on her face.

“He won’t,” He assures her. “I’ll just pick some up for him next time I’m in town”

“No no,” (y/n) shakes her head, smiling softly at him for the gesture. “No need. I’ll just snatch more next time,”

Nanami knows he should be gently prompting her not to steal from their fellow classmates, but he knows that lecturing her will get him nowhere, and he’s not in the interest of making her lose whatever deluded interest in him she’d already taken up.

Deluded, indeed. Kento has no clue what it was about him that (y/n) had grown so attached to since his enrollment at Jujutsu Tech, but for some reason unknown to him, she sought out his companionship, time and time again. She often asked to be training partners, and then studying partners, and overtime it morphed into real friendship. Although he had a habit of suggesting boring activities when she offered him her free time- like right now.

“And we’re not studying. That’s not fun. I want to do something fun” (y/n) half-scolds him playfully for the ridiculous idea he always came up with. It was almost routine at this point.

After his terrible idea, she’d come up with a wildly outlandish one.

“Let’s sneak into a hotel and pretend we’re guests so we can use the pool!”

To which Kento promptly turned down with a bewildered look on his face.

“Absolutely not”

And then they could find a compromise between the two, which was always the normal, reasonable option.

“Hang out in the shopping district and not buy anything?”

It was like clockwork.

With the plan agreed upon, conversation would move on to something else as they’d slowly wander back to the dormitories. Nanami knew it wasn’t fair to stall when she had plans with Shoko for the night, but she wasn’t exactly rushing the two of them either. And maybe he was a little deluded himself, thinking maybe she wanted to talk to him for a while longer, just like he did.

By the time they reach the girls’ building, they’re stopped out front, and she’s still going on with a story about the last curse she exorcized and how ugly it was. It had him laughing, more so than that day Gojo got his ass handed to him by Yaga during training, and the deeply buried selfish part of him hoped she’d keep standing there and talking to him all night.

“So blue, hairless, sticky globs aren’t your type I take it?” He half jokes as she goes on dramatically about the nasty curse that was the cause of her new record for longest shower.

It’s only a joke, believe him, Kento didn’t know the first thing about flirting. As far as he was concerned, no one had ever flirted with him before, and he was pretty certain he’d also never partaken in the act. But there’s a look that flashes across (y/n’s) features that he’s never seen before, something between amusement and what he thinks could be calculation. Her head tilts at a small angle as a slow smile creeps over her face.

“No, no. I’m only into the gloomy, blonde, unattainable types,” She tells him boldly.

For a moment he thinks she’s joking back at him, but realization strikes him and all the blood drains out of his face, before rushing back up and heating up his entire neck and face. (y/n) must notice, because she giggles, and finally turns towards the dorms.

“Shoko’s gonna come snatch me any minute if I keep her waiting like this, so I better go,”

She’s talking again before he can think of anything to say- or come up with any thought at all, really. But if it makes things awkward, she doesn’t show it. In fact, the grin she’s wearing could rival Haibara’s.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And Kento could only manage a shaky nod of his head as he watched her go. He barely even waves back at her when she bids him a good night.

Once inside, (y/n) bolts to Shoko’s room with a bright red face and a girlish eagerness to tell her all about the little interaction.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her worst nights, she lays awake on top of her covers, staring at the same peculiar spot on her ceiling that she swears she’ll wipe off in the morning, and more often than not, it takes multiple hours before she falls asleep.

And the sleep is not relaxing. Her muscles remain tense, hands in fists and knees clutched tight to her chest. She’s lucky if it’s dreamless. Otherwise, she’s plagued with the memories of every mistake of her past. The worst of all of it, is the image of Haibara Yu’s lifeless body in the infirmary. He’s half covered by one of the shitty, stiff white sheets, and no matter how long she waits with bated breath, he never wakes up.

By the end of the nightmare, Yu’s always dead, and Kento always leaves.

It doesn’t matter if things play out differently than they had in the real memory. It doesn’t matter if she lets him walk away, or if she begs kicking and screaming for him to stay. The ending stays the same.

He leaves, and he never comes back.

Some nights he tells her that it’s her own fault, that she wasn’t there to change things. Some nights he doesn’t even say a word. (y/n) doesn’t know which is the lesser of two evils, because sometimes, just sometimes, it’s such a comfort to hear his voice again that she could forgive him for the nasty things the image of him would spit at her.

Even when she’d jolt awake with limbs that ache and tears staining her pillowcase, she almost wishes she could go back into the nightmare, just to see him again for a few minutes longer.

On the nights you can’t go back to sleep, she finds herself pulling up the contacts list in her phone and staring at his number. It might not even be his number anymore, he very well could have changed it in the last ten years. But it’s a phone number with his name attached nonetheless. She’s never called it, never texted it, even in her worst states, blackout drunk or breaking down on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, she’s never made the mistake of reaching out to him.

They had a silent agreement after all. To never reach out again. To completely remove themselves from each other’s lives. To become total strangers. At least, (y/n) was sure that was what happened between them. No other explanation ever presented itself, and again, it wasn’t like she could ask. Gojo liked to say people just drift apart, sometimes. She thinks he’s a liar, and maybe a bit of a coward, but she’s never said it to his face. Drifting apart happens over time, she thinks. Drifting apart feels natural, even if it hurts a little bit. Normal people drift apart after life gets in the way, with work, or maybe kids, or some other roadblock that comes about with life.

Sorcerers didn’t drift apart. Or maybe it was that they couldn’t drift apart. There would always be something that kept them tied together, even if running around somewhere far from one another, it was like they’d always be interconnected. The society of jujutsu sorcerers was so small, it should be impossible to drift apart.

There were only two ways to escape it.

The obvious and most frequent cause was death. It was hardly talked about, and perhaps there was a written code never to address the mortality rate of jujutsu sorcerers, but the numbers didn’t lie. This life was not for the weak, and certainly not for those who feared what was on the other side of life.

Haibara Yu fell victim to it before he got the chance to graduate, and she kept it to herself, but (y/n) believed his passing to be the beginning of the end. As much as she hated him for dying, she could forgive him for drifting apart, as Gojo coined it. She’d forgiven him a long time ago, while knelt over his grave with near-frostbitten hands pressed into the marble stone marking it. She’d forgiven him between choked out sobs, before pleading for his forgiveness in return.

Death was a sweet, cruel escape from the lives sorcerers lived. Sweet to those it claimed, releasing them from the horrors they faced in their everyday lives in the name of doing something for the greater good. Cruel to the people left behind to mourn them, counting down the days that pass until the same fate would claim them as well.

But perhaps (y/n) was a pessimist in her natural state, always finding the worst in every situation. She knew this about herself. The problem lied in the fact that pessimism was just too easy to explain away everything wrong with the world.

Because if everything wrong in the world had a larger, more complex reasoning than that of it’s simply bad because that’s the way the world works, then how could the work of any amount of people be enough to fix it?

Then there was the other cause for drifting apart. And perhaps this reason is why Gojo deflected with his choice of wording, because it was defecting. Which is what Geto Suguru did when he renounced jujutsu sorcerery, after slaughtering an entire village of people and then his parents.

If death was sparsely spoken of, defecting was taboo. The difference being no one wanted to speak of the treacherous act and those who committed it. Geto Suguru wasn’t the only one in the history of jujutsu to turn his back on sorcerers and become a Curse User, but he was certainly the most recent, and the acts he committed had been crueler than what was seen by those in the past.

So much so that when her mind drifted off to him, (y/n) found herself straightening up and finding any other topic for her brain to hyperfocus on. It felt wrong to even conjure up the image of his face in the privacy of her own mind. Sometimes the paranoia wrecked her so much she feared Gojo’s Six Eyes would catch her in the act of reminiscing on a past where everyone was still around, still happy, still alive. Now on the rare occasion she lets herself think of those times, there’s a black blur where Geto once was, leaving Gojo and his idiotic grin alone, even in the back of her mind.

Even right now, with her mind drifting off while Gojo had been speaking to her, her posture suddenly stiffens and she’s sitting straight up in her chair, tuning back into whatever he was rambling on about.

It wasn’t often she found herself in Gojo’s office, much less speaking with him, but he’d requested a one-on-one with her and even if she’d declined it, he would’ve tracked her down. Her actually showing up was a courtesy only to herself.

The surprise on Gojo’s half-covered face when she actually appeared at his door wasn’t hidden at all. In another life, she would’ve teased him for the way his jaw dropped open. In this life, she’d stood silently and motionlessly at his door, as if her stillness would’ve let her go undetected, even with his Six Eyes.

At first the meeting consisted of talk about a Special Grade curse popping up around Kyoto that the other school’s resources hadn’t been able to exorcize. It actually seemed like an important talk for a good fifteen minutes. But at some point Gojo had derailed and when she tuned herself back in, he was going on about a bakery in the shopping district.

Her brows furrow, giving herself away in that she hadn’t been listening for a good few minutes, but Gojo continues on with a story about bread.

“Sorry to interrupt,” She interrupts unapologetically, “But what does this have to do with the Special Grade?”

There’s a flicker of confusion on Gojo’s face, but then he grins and laughs too loud. He adjusts himself in his seat, which he’d been leaning across improperly but in a way that was just so him.

“My bad!” He says through his cackles, and next thing she knows, he’s rummaging through the doors of his desk- which looked like it cost more than her monthly rent. He’s muttering a string of disgruntled curses as he digs through a few drawers, pulling some papers out, only to drop them on the desktop and going back to his search.

(y/n) already knows that whatever he’s looking for, he won’t find in that desk. Her eyes wander the pile accumulating in front of him. From file folders to loose pieces of notebook paper to envelopes and what she thinks might be bills, there’s not a chance any of it is useful to their current conversation. Or perhaps useful at all, Gojo had always been notorious for doing his reports late- if at all- and she had a feeling everything in front of her now was just junk.

“Gojo?” She calls softly when he switches to the column of drawers on the other side of the desk, only to continue his messy search. He doesn’t respond, too lost in the disorganization of it all, so she calls his name again, a little more firmly this time.

He jolts upwards, staring at her with his undivided attention from behind the black fabric of his blindfold. (y/n) impatiently raises a brow at him. It takes a real effort to not start tapping her finger against the desk in a display of her growing irritation.

“What is it you’re looking for?” She shakes her head, wondering why she even has to ask.

“The reports from the Kyoto school!” He claims, “I could’ve sworn I put them back in here after I- aha!”

The sudden change in demeanor when he hollers and snaps his fingers makes her flinch, just a little bit, but enough for Gojo to mumble an apology as he rounds the desk. (y/n) stands, expecting to follow him out of the room, but he waves at her dismissively in order to keep her put.

“I left them in my classroom!” He shouts as he makes his way to the door.

(y/n’s) brows furrow, and her mouth drops open to scold him for keeping such documents in a public place, but before she could, he’s admitting something worse.

“I was showing my students earlier as an example piece!” He says it like he’s proud, but the way (y/n) looks at him, you’d think he just admitted to running over her cat. “Be right back!”

She lets out a huff when he’s finally gone, whether it's from deepening annoyance or relief to have a break, she’s not sure. But she turns back to the desk as she waits, only to be met with the mess he’d made.

With a glance to the clock on the wall, she realizes that in the thirty minutes of this meeting, only half of it was spent discussing a work-related matter. The other half was… well fifteen minutes of her life she just won’t get back, she supposed.

It might have been overstepping, but she figures organizing the piles left on Gojo’s desk was a better use of her time than the last few minutes had proven. So with another sigh she gets to sorting.

It’s a lot of piles she creates, but at least there’s a reason for the mess, and at least she stacks everything neatly. The tallest stack is the random pieces of notebook paper- some are grocery lists, some are doodles, and some are notes that actually seem important, like recollections from assignments that he’d need to add to his backed up reports. The other piles are separated into files of previous reports, assorted envelopes, and then a stack of miscellaneous pages she couldn’t make heads or tails of. Either way, Gojo would be obligated to feel some appreciation for her work here.

She works in silence and mindlessly, barely giving even the strangest of papers a second glance once she determines the proper placement for it. But then she comes across an envelope-enclosed letter.

It’s been opened, which isn’t the oddest thing about it. What makes it stand out is how neatly the flap was detached, not a single tear in the rest of the envelope. Unlike the other letters, which were tucked away in shredded envelopes. They’d likely been ripped open by impatient fingers. This one was in perfect condition.

Curiously, she flips it over in her hand, but the only thing written across the front of it is Gojo’s name, in neat, straight handwriting. There’s no addresses, and no stamp. This letter was hand delivered.

With a single glance to the open door of the office behind her to ensure that Gojo wasn’t returning at that very moment, she lets her curiosity get the better of her. She’s not sure who she assumes this letter is from, or what it’s contents are, but the mystery of it has her opening the flap and plucking out the folded paper inside.

Even the folds are neatly creased, folding up the single page into a rectangle that fits perfectly inside of the envelope. Whoever the letter was from clearly had an eye for the organized, unlike the recipient of said letter.

With great care she opens it up, holding the page between her fingers gently, afraid that a grip too tight could fold the page and soil it’s perfect condition.

Her eyes scan over the words quickly.

Gojo Satoru,

If you’re reading this, I suppose I mustered up the courage to actually deliver this to you. I’m sure that was no easy feat. I will try to keep this concise, as I’ve thought about writing this to you many, many times. Now that I’m actually doing it, I hope I can follow through.

(y/n) touches her fingers to lips as if to suppress the small gasp that escapes her. Could this have been from Geto Suguru? The thought makes a chill run down her spine, but against her better judgment, she keeps on reading.

Straight to the point. Life as a salary man is no better than life as a sorcerer may have proven to be. I’m making more money, I’m told I should feel joy in my successes, and I am successful, but there is no joy. I fear that without doing something for the good of the world, I won’t feel joy at all.

I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.

No, this couldn’t have been from Geto, right? With her deductions from the next few lines, (y/n) was growing confused at the point of view of the writer.

But who else was close enough to Gojo to write him a letter? Utahime? But it seemed as though the writer was a man. She chewed on her lip as she continued scanning over the words.

When I left Jujutsu Tech, I truly intended to never come back. I believed that in a world full of curses, and shit, that there was nothing anyone could do to make it a better place. For as long as sorcerers and non-sorcerers exist, their counterpart will always be curses. After Haibara, I believed my existence made no difference in jujutsu society, therefore leaving me no place in it.

I was wrong.

With wide eyes, the hand remaining on the page began to tremble, shaking the thin paper in the slightest and making it a bit more difficult to read. The gears began to fall into place, and (y/n) had a sneaking suspicion that this letter wasn’t from Geto Suguru at all.

More than that, I foolishly miss the things that once were. I miss feeling like I’m making a difference in the world, even if it’s minimal. I miss helping people. I even miss using my Cursed Technique.

And admittedly, I miss (y/n).

This time when she gasps, (y/n) presses her entire hand against her open mouth. It does little to stifle the noise.

I wish I could say that leaving was the right path for me, that I’m doing much better than I really am, but it would all be lies. I’m worse off than I’ve ever felt in my life. Turning my back on sorcery, and on (y/n), was a choice I’ll regret for the rest of my life.

The last time we spoke, you asked me to come back. You told me if I ever wanted to, that you’d make the arrangements. I’m sure you remember that I promptly told you to fuck off. I apologize. You were only trying to help, and for once, you were right.

I suppose this is me saying that I want to return.

Whatever means necessary, if I have to relocate to Kyoto, or start the process completely over, I’ll understand. I only ask two things. One, is for you to pull whatever strings you have in order to make it happen. I owe it to myself, to jujutsu society, and I owe it to (y/n).

The second ask is for you not to mention this to her until the decision is final. If I’m unable to return, no matter the reason, I don’t want her to know of the arrangement. I simply can’t have her thinking I’ve abandoned her a second time. I would rather she remember me as a deserter than a coward, as dreadful as that is.

I’d appreciate your discretion, and your aid. You have my number if you have any questions.

Finally, and slowest of all, her eyes drift to the signature neatly slanted at the bottom of the page. Her heart had previously been racing in her chest as she read the entire page in record time, but it suddenly plummets deep into her gut as her suspicions are confirmed.

Nanami Kento.

Her thoughts are so jumbled that all she can do is glance across the letter as if she would catch something new, as if she hadn’t already taken it all in, in it’s entirety, likely committing most of it to memory on her first read.

After Haibara…

… I was wrong…

… I miss (y/n)...

… lies… worse off… regret…

I appreciate your discretion…

“Ah, you found that, huh?”

When she turns to Gojo Satoru, who was standing in the doorway with a folder in his hands for an unknown amount of time, (y/n) doesn’t feel any shame in going through his things and reading a private letter that was very clearly not meant for her eyes. All she can do is stare at him, the evidence of her crime still in her hand.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t move. Her hard gaze sets on him and it’s enough for him to know she’s demanding an explanation.

“He really didn’t want you reading that, y’know,” Gojo closes the door behind him this time, crossing the room and tossing the found folder on top of the freshly organized stacks of paper on his desk.

Emotions bubble up inside of her that she can barely get straight. She thinks she catches the tail end of desperation, which quickly morphs into rage, and then it burns into something completely unrecognizable.

“Too late now, though, huh?”

He has the nerve to grin, like he was amused by the entire thing. If her entire body wasn’t frozen stiff, she might’ve grabbed him by the collar and demanded a proper explanation from him. She might’ve threatened him if she had to.

Instead, all that comes out is,

“How long did you keep this from me?”

His smile falters, but he doesn’t quite frown. Just regards her with a neutral expression as he keeps calm. She hates that he had to be put through something so traumatic that he was forced to learn to keep his cool. In another life, she would’ve gotten all the information out of him that she’d need just from his initial reaction. Now, she has to dig and prod at him until he unwraps every layer and tears down every wall he’s created to protect himself.

What she doesn’t know, is the most twisted part is he’s thinking the same thing about her.

“Couple weeks”

“Weeks!?” She doesn’t mean to yell, her voice raises against her will, but she doesn’t apologize for the lack of professionalism.

“If you recall, you weren’t exactly supposed to be in the loop-”

“That’s bullshit, Satoru!” This time, she has every intent to yell, before she slams the page down on the desk with enough force to have a small breeze ruining the stacks of pages.

Neither one of them comment on it, but the way Gojo’s eyes slide slowly from the new mess she created before going back to her, speaks volumes. She ignores it.

“How could you keep this from me?”

“(y/n)-” Gojo barely has the time to let out a sigh before she’s shouting at him again.

“I deserved to know about this!” She’s jamming her finger into the letter hard enough that it hurts when she hits the oak desk underneath but she pays the throbbing no mind. “When did this happen? When is he coming back?”

“It’s… it’s still sort of up in the air,” He says quickly, as if he were unable to keep himself from indulging her in some of the details. “But it’s not solid yet, and you never heard a thing-!”

“Satoru,” (y/n) touches her fingers to her forehead as she sighs. “He’s clearly not doing well, what’s going on? How long have you been talking with him?”

He’s told her too much already, and he knows that if Nanami were to find out that (y/n) got her hands on this letter, he’d probably be throttled. If (y/n) didn’t beat him to it, that is.

“We’ve been talking for a while…” Gojo sighs, dropping himself into his chair and doing his best to avoid the bewildered and hurt expression that she’s currently wearing as she glares at him. “Look (y/n) it’s not like I was hiding this to upset you, alright? Nothing was set in stone and if it didn’t work out I didn’t… I just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt”

She scoffs, her head shaking at him in disbelief. Gojo frowns.

“You should take some time to sit with this,” He suggests, before reaching across the desk to push the letter towards her again. “You can take it, if you want”

Scoffing again, she snatches up the page. Her brows furrow as she tries to make him aware of just how disgusted she is by this entire ordeal, but the way her lips wobble and her eyes begin to fill with tears gives her away.

However she’d never break in front of Gojo Satoru, so without a word she turns her heel and storms out of the office, making sure to slam the door shut behind her.

Her hands tremble so much that the page quivers in her hold, creating the only sound in the barren corridor. Her movements halt when she realizes she’s alone in this space, and finally, a small broken gasp escapes her throat.

Willing herself not to cry, she tilts her head back and squeezes her eyes shut tight. It seemed that the emotions she’d suppressed and buried all those years ago were finally bursting at the seams to be let out. All of the anger, the loss, the disappointment- it clawed its way out of the hole in her chest and made it’s way up her throat.

With only a hard swallow and the strong will to keep herself from breaking down right here, she pushed it all back down.

She’s not sure what compelled her to pull her phone out of her pocket and hurriedly tap until she’s scrolling through her contacts list. But it’s as if her hands are working on muscle memory alone as she stops her scrolling under N and is clicking on Nanami Kento’s name as if it were normal to reach out to him.

Once his contact information sits before her, however, she freezes on the spot, thumb hovering over the screen. All that’s there is a phone number and an old school email she’d never removed from the page. He doesn’t even have a photo, as she’d added his number to her contacts before smartphones gave you the option to add a contact picture.

What, was she supposed to call him now? After all this time? Her thoughts grew bitter as she stared at the screen. He never reached out to her, not once, not after promising he would.

And yet, Gojo Satoru had kept in contact with him?

Her phone is locked and back in her pocket in two seconds before she’s marching herself out of the building and heading towards anywhere that she’d consider far enough away from the Special Grade Sorcerer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day Nanami returns is hectic. His arrival isn’t the only thing to blame, in fact, (y/n) could have almost forgotten about it completely. Almost.

She’d been sent off on back to back assignments, nasty curses popping up one after another and with the shortage of Jujutsu Sorcerers, she couldn’t exactly turn it down.

Even once they’d been exorcized- which wasn’t an easy feat- she’d returned to campus only to find Gojo had unsurprisingly abandoned his students for long enough that she’d stepped in and helped guide their training exercises. They were good students, and for the most part were able to take care of themselves, but every once in a while Panda would goof off a bit too much and once he and Inumaki were distracted, Maki was bound to get looped in as well. Other than that, she had no complaints about subbing in for their teacher.

And once it was all said and done and she could finally go home and start her unofficial routine, she was reminded of the reason she’d been so on edge today to begin with.

Nanami Kento stood at the grand main entrance of Jujutsu Tech. Alongside Gojo Satoru and Principal Yaga, but their presence registered a few seconds later.

Tunnel vision took over against her will, blurring away the other bodies, and then the entire surrounding area, until there was only Nanami Kento in her sights. If it weren’t for him, and knowing that it was simply the effect he had, she might’ve thought that the long day was getting on top of her and she was passing out.

He looked so different and yet exactly the same.

He’d clearly grown into himself. His hair was styled differently, no longer hanging over his forehead in that gloomy teenager way. He seemed a bit taller, a bit broader, and simultaneously just as handsome as she remembered, and even more so.

It was hard to tell how long she’d been standing there, frozen in place, but when she’s finally caught, it feels like it’s been hours.

It’s Nanami who sees her first- although she’s convinced deep down that Gojo knew she’d been there all along- and the look on her face makes her stomach twist with an unpleasant emotion.

He doesn’t react right away, as if he doesn’t recognize her, but just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, his expression morphs. His eyes widen, and his jaw opens, but he doesn’t call out to her. Instead they both stand in place, a good ten feet apart, staring at each other as if for the first time.

More hours pass. It isn’t until Gojo turns towards her with the widest shit eating grin she’s ever seen that she’s broken from her daze. He waves her over, and she thinks he said something, but her feet are carrying her towards the group before she could actually listen to what he was saying.

Her eyes don’t leave Kento for even a second. Not a single stray to acknowledge her colleague or principal, there was nothing that could pull her attention away.

It takes a deep breath before she could actually find her voice.

“Welcome back, Nanami”

It comes out quieter than she intended, soft enough her voice almost fails her completely.

There’s the smallest of smiles on her face, genuine, but the confusion is still there in the way the corner of her lips twitch with discomfort.

It’s painfully silent between the group of four, she wishes someone would just say something, because she still can’t tear her eyes away from Nanami and the longer they stand there like that the more she worries she’ll combust.

Nanami doesn’t appear to have the same level of discomfort as her. He seems completely unphased as he stands among them. With his hands tucked casually into his pockets, and his expression unwavering in it’s neutral position.

As (y/n) begins to take notice of just how unmoved he is by standing here now- after everything, after he fucking left her here, after the letter- her discomfort grows into utter displeasure. With the silence that had settled between them since her approach, it was terribly obvious. Her nose twitched, her hands curled into stiff-knuckled fists at her sides, and her posture was so pin-straight it must’ve hurt, seeing as she didn’t usually stand so square.

“Just in time (y/n), we were just discussing Nanamin’s little welcome back party,” Gojo speaks up and finally (y/n) tears her fiery gaze away from the man that could hardly stand to avoid it. “You should come by. Tomorrow night after work,”

The look on her face doesn’t change even once she’s turned her attention towards Gojo, and he winces a bit the longer her eyes bore into him, but he continues on anyway.

“Everyone will be there, Shoko, Ijichi, even Utahime’s coming by,”

He makes it hard to find an excuse to say no, but (y/n) chalks that up to his personality. Since she’d found that letter a couple of weeks ago, he’d taken it upon himself to pester her and over-involve himself in her day-to-day. This wasn’t unlike him, she just hadn’t seen the behavior in quite some time.

“I’ll send you the address and you can come by, hm?” He’s nodding at her in confirmation before she can come up with a decent reason why she can’t go. Her teeth are sinking into her cheek as she gives him a small nod of her head.

“Yeah. Sure” Her words are as sharp and strained as she appears while speaking them. She gives a tight lipped smile to the three of them, and is walking away before she could get herself roped into anything else.

Her fists curl and uncurl at her sides as she briskly makes her way off the campus. It takes an effort not to break into a sprint.

Which is odd, because with the way her heart is reacting, she wanted nothing more than to turn back around and run towards him. Instead, with ragged breathing and misty eyes, she couldn’t get herself away fast enough.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feeling yourself shut down was an odd sensation. She always thought that if something traumatic happened to her, she’d leave her body for an unknown amount of time while her mind works to process the heavy emotions.

Instead, it was like a weight was being set on her shoulders. Slowly pushing- and she knew it would crush her, she knew that soon this weight would be too much to carry, and she feared what would happen when it finally crushed her.

It feels as if there’s a giant pair of invisible hands holding her in place, keeping her frozen in the morgue. Another fear settled in the pit of her stomach- that those hands would hold her here forever.

Her eyes feel dry, despite all of the tears today. She forces herself to blink a few times every time they start to feel dry again. The long periods of staring without blinking was starting to go from irritating to painful.

“(y/n),”

Kento’s voice is a shock to her system, making her tense up before relaxing as she glances back at him, where he’s sat against the furthest edge of the room. She’d almost forgotten he’d been there too. Her heart breaks for the thousandth time that day seeing him press his face into a damp cloth.

“I can’t take this anymore”

She completely turns around then, although it hurts to turn her back on Haibara, she couldn’t bear to let Kento feel like he was alone in this moment.

The dryness in her eyes starts to go away as her tear ducts begin to swell.

“Kento…?”

Her voice cracks, and her throat tightens up on her so fast that the rest of her question dies on her tongue. She’s left standing there with nothing to say, nothing to offer. That is, besides her presence and this trauma they shared.

He drops the rag, revealing sunken eyes paired with dark semicircles, frown lines already prominent at the corners of his mouth. He looks how she feels- utterly wrecked.

When he looks at her, the numbness in her limbs is replaced with an icy chill. The invisible claws on her body tighten and lock in place. Even if she knew the right thing to do, the right way to comfort him, she can’t move a muscle.

It feels like ages before he sighs, and finally explains himself.

“I’m leaving,”

For his voice barely rising above a whisper, the simple words are loud and clear. And even though the numbness settles over her rigid body again, (y/n) assumes her face must have betrayed her as she stares back at him, because he suddenly looks startled as he watches her react to the news. Kento pauses, and clears his throat before he speaks up again.

“I… I have to,” He breathes out, an admission he’d not yet shared. All the higher ups needed to know was that he was dropping out and would be joining the workforce. They didn’t exactly care about the details. “I… I can’t take this anymore. I’m not…”

The words die before he ever really considers admitting the full truth to her. (y/n) was a strong and endlessly talented sorcerer. How could he admit to her that he just didn’t have what it took to be as strong as her? This past week had felt like test after test of his will, and at the end of it, Nanami decided to quit while he was down for the count. He couldn’t bear another loss- after Haibara, after Geto- it seemed it was only a matter of time before he witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever cared about.

He doesn’t voice any of this. Instead, he just shakes his head at her before he stands.

“I’ve already packed my things, and let the higher ups know”

(y/n’s) mouth opens and closes a few times, small gasps of disbelief coming in between her bouts of silence, but it takes a few tries before any words could come out.

“L-leaving?” For as quickly as her mind is running with this news, her words struggle to catch up. Her brows furrow as she struggles to find the right thing to say amongst the mess of thoughts in her head.

“I have a few interviews lined up,” His hand rubs the back of his neck and he has to turn himself away from her as he continues. It’s cowardly, and he knows that, but he wanted this all to come from him. Only him. “I’m not cut out to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Not… not like this”

She wants to tell him that’s not true, that he’s a fantastic sorcerer. Even if it means screaming at him in order for him to truly understand just how firmly she believed he belonged here.

Maybe the state of shock she was in was too great to properly articulate her thoughts. Or maybe she didn’t want to put more pressure on his choice by fighting for him to stay.

Either way, she doesn’t say a word.

Her mouth shuts and the tears in her eyes cling to her lashes with every blink. All she does is stare at him, and hope he’ll say something that will give her a sense of comfort with his bad news. A silver lining, a bright side.

Instead, Nanami Kento makes her a promise.

“It’s not like I’m just… disappearing,”

He glances back at her with great uncertainty. He’s never seen her cry before today, and he thinks it would break him completely if he was the cause of more tears.

“You know?”

His voice is a mumble, but he knows she hears him. He knows because her lips wobble as she tries to keep them from frowning, and eventually she presses them into a tight line.

“Anytime you want…”

He trails off, because he’s never done this before, and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to say to convince her that if she ever needed anything he was a phone call away. Ironically, these are words he’s been trying to tell her since the day they met, but even now his throat gets that tight and scratchy feeling, and he chokes on them for the umpteenth time. His fingers flex outward, straining and trembling as he tenses the muscles in his hand to it’s fullest extent before he shoves it into his pocket and bites down on his cheek.

“I promise, alright?”

(y/n) swallows the lump in her throat, seeming to understand what the parts he’d failed to say. She was always better at reading between the lines than he was, but today especially, Kento feels like he’s failing her.

The feeling is so disgusting in his gut- hot, and churning in his insides- that he has to close his eyes to keep himself from looking at her again.

“Okay,” Is all (y/n) can manage to say at first. It’s quiet, her voice strained and raw and harsh to his ears despite her whisper. “You too, Ken” She adds after a few beats pass.

He hopes she knows she means it, that she promises it too.

If he does, he doesn’t indicate so.

That’s the last time she sees him before he leaves Jujutsu Tech, and it’s the last time they’ve spoken.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Social events weren’t (y/n’s) comfort zone. Maybe once, when she was younger, she would have been eager for such a party. All of her friends, the people who she loved most in this world, her makeshift family, in one place seemed so enticing at one time.

Now, it feels like a karmic punishment.

The way her stomach twists into knots despite only nursing her second drink, the way her skin pricks with anxious goosebumps anytime someone wanders too close to her and appears as though they wanted to catch up, it all starts to feel too much. It makes her sweat, and before she knows it she’s checking the time on her phone every five minutes. Then soon, every two.

Don’t get her wrong- she tried. She really did try. She hung around while Gojo and Utahime were fighting over a game of darts, and even though she didn’t partake she was there when the new kid, Takuma, ordered a round of shots for the group, she even sat and listened to as Nanami talked about his time as a salaryman. She wanted to appear as present as possible, even though she was far from her own mind.

It was just too hard, wasn’t it? To sit there and pretend like there was something to celebrate, that his return was the greatest news of the year. All it did was resurface ugly, buried feelings, and that mixed with just a couple of drinks created a pit in her stomach that only grew as the night went on.

Like an emotional black hole that would suck her up from the inside out.

Nanami had spoken about how the workforce wasn’t right for him, that it was full of selfish assholes who lacked basic human compassion, that it took and took and took and never provided a sense of fulfillment. The longer he spoke about the toxic environment, the more (y/n) felt the weight of it all on her shoulders.

Nothing had changed.

With a lame excuse mumbled to Shoko beside her, she swallowed down the last of her drink and left the table. Shoko wasn’t even given the chance to say anything- or ask her to repeat whatever she’d just missed- before (y/n) was walking right out of the bar.

Tokyo was cold this time of year, the light breeze enough to nip at any exposed skin, instantly making her nose and cheeks red.

It’s not pleasant, but it’s welcomed. Even with her arms wrapped around herself to preserve her fading body heat, the cool air felt good sucked in between her teeth as she began a breathing exercise that she hadn’t done since she was young and afraid of the career path she was on.

Not as afraid as she would be taking up a normal job in the city, working amongst vultures and hyenas and vile men that made high grade curses look a little more innocent, but, still.

She’s too lost in her focus to hear the pub door opening and shutting behind her, so when someone speaks, she looks surprised as she turns towards them.

“Hey,”

It’s quiet, but enough to draw her back to the chilly reality. Nanami Kento stands there with one hand in the pocket of his coat, the other extended towards her. He’d brought her coat out to her.

“You left that inside. Too cold to walk home without it, yeah?”

He’d spoken quite a bit tonight- or at least, a lot for him- and yet this was the most he’d actually spoken to her. It makes her stomach twist in that way that was once pleasant, but tonight? She thinks it might make her sick.

“I wasn’t going home”

She takes the coat, shrugging her arms into the sleeves and wrapping the front around herself as snug as she can get it. It’s not as much of a relief from the cold as she’d hoped.

“Looked like it”

His words aren’t sharp, they’re not accusatory, they don’t hold a hint of malice. But she almost wishes they had, because the defeated way he says it feels worse.

Her eyes shoot towards his, and for a split second, he thinks this is the moment she snaps. This is the part where she calls him out, for all the terrible things he’d done to her. He braces himself, flinching just a bit as he holds his breath and waits for what he deserved to be handed to him.

(y/n) sighs. Her shoulders slump downwards and a frown takes over her lips shortly after. The disappointment in her gaze is more brutal than anything she could have screamed at him. He wishes she would just scream at him.

“You should go back. Gojo will freak if you ditch your own party, you know”

She turns away from him again because she has to. She’s not brave enough to hold his persistent stare.

“I don’t want to”

“Well I don’t want you to-” She stops herself before those emotions could force themselves out. With a sharp inhale, she clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head, waits for the heat in her throat to be bearable enough to talk through. “Just… just go back inside, Nanami” She sighs out the non-threatening demand, hoping he’d turn around without another word and disappear.

Hearing her call him by his surname felt like a knife to the back. Not that it wasn’t what he deserved, he understood why she called him that, and he didn’t exactly expect to hear her call him Kento, or Ken in that sweet voice she used to- always delighted to see him, always smiling when his name would fall from her lips before her entire face would light up. Hearing Nanami followed by her eyes darting to look at anything but his was like a punishment.

“I don’t want to do that” He repeats himself, and she wants to be upset with him for how calmly he speaks, because he makes it seem so easy, while she’s standing there like a ticking bomb trying desperately to slow down time.

“It’s freezing” She tries to argue.

“I don’t mind the cold”

“I’m not great company right now”

“I’ve never thought that”

With the mental timer still ticking, she spins on her heel, her brows furrowed as she regards him with a pitiful sort of glare. All of the sadness she’d been trying to shield with anger was on full display.

“You left me,”

It finally comes out in the heat of the moment, and as soon as the words are spoken she wishes she could take them back- she’d do anything to pack them back up in the box of ugly emotions and bury it somewhere new where no one could ever find it- but it’s too late now. They hang in the air between them like a taunt over her head.

“You promised that you weren’t disappearing,” Her voice cracks and the strain of her voice gives away the tears in her eyes but even in her humiliation she can’t stop herself. For a moment, she’s completely out of her body, looking down at herself as she shoves a finger into his chest and begins to properly cry. “And then you did”

The words are barely audible, spoken through such a shaky whimper that any other person in the world wouldn’t have been able to understand her. But Nanami Kento knew exactly what she was saying. He’d heard her say this all before, almost every night during the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

“(y/n)-”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything, because her dam had already been broken, and there was nothing she could do to stop the rush of all the pent up emotions now. All the energy they’d drained out of her all these years came flooding out, and it was bound to take him out with her.

“And then you wrote ‘toru that fucking letter,”

She doesn’t have the ability to yell anymore, but even the whispered confession is enough to shut him up. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens but he has nothing to say. If she read that letter, then there was nothing for him to say. She already knew everything he’d been hoping to keep from her.

Which, thinking about it now, it was foolish of him to believe keeping her in the dark so they could start fresh would ever be the outcome of all of this. He should’ve known Gojo would dangle that letter in front of her like an enticing piece of gossip rather than the deep felt note it really was. He winced and stared down at his feet for a moment as he recalled everything he’d said with the confidence of privacy.

“What was I supposed to make of that?” (y/n) whispers, and it doesn’t sound rhetorical, with the way she stares at him with those wide, teary eyes, but she’s speaking again before he can even come up with a response. “I know you didn’t want me to see it and- and honestly a part of me wishes I hadn’t, maybe this would b-be easier, but…” She sniffles as she begins to stammer, her head shaking again in the hopes it would make her words more clear and concise. “But I did see it and it’s not easy it’s- it’s really hard”

He’s not sure what compels him to be so bold, but when she uncrosses her arms to aggressively rub the tears off of her cheeks, Kento reaches out and takes her wrist before she could defensively cross her arms again. Her eyes go wide from the surprisingly gentle action, but she doesn’t try to pull away.

“It is hard. It’s my fault that it’s hard,” He tells her softly.

Seeing the tears still swelling in her pretty eyes makes his throat start to close up, and he can’t help but be reminded of the last day he’d seen her. He’d been the cause of her tears then, too.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… I was young, and what I thought was right was so foolish-”

“A complete idiot” She mumbles weakly. He nods back at her in agreement.

“I know,” He murmurs, and the warmth that the softness of his voice ignites in her chest is bound to spread through her and weaken her knees soon enough. “I meant it all, though. What I wrote. I missed purpose. I missed… you,”

I missed you too sits on her tongue like lead.

“I should’ve written to you directly, I know that now, and if I could take it back I would but… when I wrote that letter, I still wasn’t sure if I’d…” He trails off, his eyes glancing around as he tries to find the right thing to say, which might have been useless, seeing as he’d been saying all the wrong things for most of his life. “I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to come back. Strong enough for you. I… (y/n), I left because I wasn’t strong enough to stay. I didn’t… I couldn’t put you through that again”

It’s messy, and it takes a moment for her to process it all, but slowly, it all clicks into place and she finally starts to understand what his motivations were in all of this.

“Kento…” She sighs, and it’s not quite like old times, but it does ignite an old spark in him that makes the corner of his mouth quirk upwards for just a brief moment. “I didn’t need you to be any stronger than you already were,”

Her fingers tremble as she slides her arm out of his hold, only to ghost the pads of her fingers over his palm. Even after the years spent away from jujutsu sorcery, the palms of his hands still bore the rough calluses of a man wielding a weapon. Her eyes darted towards his hand as she made contact with it, eyeing the way he offered his open palm to her, but made no move to take her hand. He waited.

“I didn’t need you to be anything,” She murmured, glancing up at him then. Her hand hovered over his still, but the pounding of her heart still caused it to shake. “I just wanted you safe. If that meant leaving then- then fine, but not knowing how you were, if you were okay, if you were happy, I… I hated that”

She had her other hand wrapped around his heartstrings, he was sure, because the tugging on them was relentless and painful. Kento had to clear his throat before a choked gasp could come out of it.

The urge to apologize over and over, until I’m sorry are the only words he knows how to say, until his throat is bloody and raw, strikes him so hard he almost actually does.

“(y/n),”

Her name is murmured so softly his lips barely moved, breathed out so gently it was stolen and silenced by a sharp gust of wind that cuts between them. Finally, her hand falls into his, as if the weight was too much for her to hold anymore. Her fingers clasp around his palm as if muscle memory took over as soon as they touched, as if seven years apart meant nothing at all when it came to them.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” His eyes flicker in between hers, and he can’t stop his free hand from reaching out, hesitating only a moment before the cool pads of his fingers brush away the tears still stuck to her cheek. “But… I don’t want to lose you again. I left because I couldn’t stand to lose you and I… I did anyway, didn’t I?”

It’s like the final thread keeping her heart afloat is snapped, and it shatters as it crashes in her stomach. Something escapes her upon that impact, something between a gasp and a sob, and it has Kento pressing his entire hand against her face, cupping her cheek and hoping he could provide even an ounce of the comfort she deserved. This was all because of him, after all. A knot forms between his brows and she frowns deeply as he takes in all of the hurt she’s feeling, taking responsibility for every second of it.

“No,” She breathes out, her head barely shaking with the protest. “I loved you, Ken,” She confesses, and she’s not sure if it relieves a weight on her chest or makes it worse, but she runs with it.

There was nothing left to lose, they’d made enough mistakes already, one more couldn’t hurt, right?

“I- I still love you, I’ll always love you,” She starts to stammer but there’s not a single pause in her voice. “Whether you stay or leave, that doesn’t just go away”

The pad of his thumb presses a little harder into her cheekbone, and he moves in closer, staring at her intently as he takes in everything she said, basking in it, in all of it’s melancholy and sweetness, in the relief of after all these years, finally knowing how she feels. Finally knowing that he’d never imagined things, that his feelings were reciprocated.

“I loved you, too,” He murmurs, and with the hand that’s still holding hers, he squeezes, maybe tighter than he should have, but he needed to make sure this wasn’t another cruel nightmare that he’d wake up from any second now. He lets a beat pass just to be sure. “I still love you, too” He repeats.

She sniffles, gasps quietly, and then the smallest of smiles begins to stretch across her lips.

When she leans forward, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head before he presses his forehead into hers. His eyes fall shut and he keeps his hold on her secure. It was still freezing out, the cold had settled in all of his limbs by now, but he needed to be with her here just a little bit longer.

“You don’t know how much I missed you, Ken” She mumbles, the tip of her cold nose brushing into his as she pressed a little bit closer.

He chuckles, and it’s not a humored laugh, more bittersweet and regretful, but it warms her heart just to hear it anyways. When he whispers back to her it’s so sweet that she melts away completely. Her shattered heart is welded back together solely through the power of Nanami Kento’s gentle presence and even gentler words.

“I think I have a pretty good idea, sweetheart”

[ cause this is crazy love // i’ll catch you on the flip side ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami imgaine #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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steviescrystals · 6 months ago

Text

sorry i’m actually not done this is my diary now

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

#like i said it feels like nothing has gone right for me in so long #and it continues to hurt more and more every day bc the few times something does go my way something eventually ruins it #it’s like the universe keeps giving me good things and then taking them away and then in the end it’s just another thing that went wrong #bc it didn’t last and it feels like everything i gain eventually becomes another thing i lose #that job i can’t shut up about? it felt like the first big thing that had gone my way in forever and even though i complained about it a lot #(bc work is work and it’s never enjoyable 100% of the time) i really did love it and it was one of the only things i had motivation for #there were so many times i would start to spiral again and the one thing that kept me going was ‘at least i have this job’#and then despite putting in so much time and effort and pretty much making it my whole life i got laid off with no explanation #and i try to have the mindset that even though it ended badly it was still a good thing bc i met so many friends i love at that job #but even that makes me sad bc i can’t seem to really hold on to any of those friends and it’s like getting left behind by my high school-#-friends all over again just when i thought i was finally making new solid connections #most of those work friends stopped reaching out as soon as i got laid off like now that we don’t see each other at work all the time #there’s no reason to even talk to each other let alone spend time together #and the ones that do talk to me still never have time to see me bc they already had lives and friend groups outside of work that i was-#-never a part of bc i don’t go to school with them or live near them etc etc #the one friend i met there that i talk to almost every day and am the closest with is also literally the furthest away #she works at her family business in another state every summer so she’s gone may-september and after quitting the job we met at she-#-took a seasonal job for the winter in the same industry as her summer job so she was gone again november-april #i got to spend time with her for 3 days while she was home and then she left for the summer and she gets back a week after my birthday #and it’s been hard enough only getting to see her every 3-5 months but in october she’s moving to texas so who knows when i’ll see her again #obviously i know the world doesn’t revolve around me and the universe isn’t out to get me #but it’s just hard to find happiness in anything when it feels like every good thing in your life eventually gets taken away #and all you end up with is more sadness or more loneliness and more to miss #it’s like 1 step forward and 5 steps back over and over and over #for the past 3 years i’ve been saying ‘this is the most depressed i’ve ever been’ and it’s true every time bc it just keeps getting worse #and i know i can’t truly know what anyone else is going through but it feels like all my friends lives are getting better except mine #and i don’t want to be a burden on anyone but i’m human and i need support but every time i try to talk to my friends about this stuff #they never seem to hear me when i say how bad it is and idk if they don’t get it or if they just don’t care enough to listen #idk. this is all so self centered but i feel like i have nothing going for me and no one who can be there for me the way i need them to be #vent

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nmakii · 6 months ago

Note

You said you willing to write another part?! WELL IM ALL FOR IT!!! EREEEEEEERFFHENEN

Ok so perhaps the mother or father of Ken goes a little crazy perhaps they set reader’s home on fire. (It’s up to you if the kids are in it or not. Or perhaps you can make it where they come in one by one.) Reader could probably die from the house fire and end up in hell. Noah could’ve gotten shot while on the job and Emi could’ve gotten murdered(when she’s a tad more older of course) the family back together in hell and reader thinking she was free from Al only to fall into his arms again.

There is always going to be that one angry family member blaming reader and her kids for the death of their loved one.

IMGONNAGETYOUBACK.

[why not read the story first? 😋]

— 6 years after your husband’s passing, he decides that it’s been far too long. and, he enlists the help of a certain imp to retrieve his wife from the over-world.

hell was not all so bad. it was quite similar to the living world, only with the company of the supernatural. as soon as alastor had arrived in hell, it was quite easy to gain power— inflict terror by using their fear of dying once more and take advantage of their greed for power.

but, this was all just far too boring. killing overlords, quite repetitive. and it was so awfully dull to terrorize sinners on the streets of pentagram city. alastor wanted someone who’d fight back. alastor wanted you.

he was in hell though. was there even a way to get you? of course there is. if it was you that alastor desired so badly, it’d be you who he’d get. he’d find a way, even if he had to claw his way out of hell and drag you down to the dark depths with him.

though, it seems he wouldn’t have to. rumor has it there’s a small start up company in imp city. a company who specializes in killing humans in the over-world given pay. might as well investigate, right?

and so, alastor headed off to imp city, finding a rundown office building where this I.M.P. supposedly ran their business. and on the 7th floor (according to the sign in the elevator), he, indeed, found their headquarters.

“oh fucking finally, someone’s using the door for once!” the tall imp cursed out. “nice to meet ‘ya. i’m blitzø, the ‘o’ is silent.” he said, shaking alastor’s hand. “right, my name is alastor. pleasure to be meeting you, my good man, quite the pleasure!” he nodded assuredly as he wiped his hand on the coat. “sooo… if you’re here, you must want someone gone, hm? who is it? ex-wife? did she fuck the next door neighbor or something? c’mon, give me the all the dirty details!” blitzø asked, overwhelming him with questions.

“ah, not quite. you have a portal to the human realm, correct?” alastor asked, confirming the rumors. “yeah, if you’re thinking about going in with us, no can do.” blitzø shrugged defeatedly. “ah, no, no. just confirming the rumors.” he said. “i want you to go into the human realm, yes. and, i need you to kill my wife. i miss her dearly.” he sighed sorrowfully, despite his smile.

“yeah— see, i can’t guarantee your wife’s gonna go down here if she was some sorta saint or whatever.” blitzø said. “oh, she will most definitely go to hell, i can assure you that.” alastor grinned. despite alastor’s assurance, blitzø seemed unconvinced… “i’ll pay you handsomely.” alastor said, summoning a sum of money with a flick of his wrist. “it’s a deal! MILLIE, MOXXIE, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” blitzø shouted out to what seemed to be a conference room. “don’t you worry, sir! we’ll make sure your wife’s down here by the end of the week!” he assured alastor cheerfully, his demeanor seemingly changing after the topic of money was brought into the conversation. “ah, very well then!” alastor grinned as he shrugged off, dropping the sum of cash by the doorstep as he left.

by the end of the week? he could wait that long.

1939, the great depression had finally passed. without alastor to provide for the family, it had been hard. but, the three of you had been able to manage. your children had grown into wonderful adults, noah taking in his widowed mother and unmarried sister along with his own family.

your daughter-in-law was simply the sweetest thing. she reminded you of your innocent self all those years ago. but, your son is better than his father. there’s no reason to worry at all.

everything was good now. everything is fine.

“ma, you okay? you hardly touched your food.” noah asked. “hm? it’s alright, dear. i’m not so hungry anyway. francesca, eat up, will you? you must nourish yourself after all.” you pushed your plate towards your daughter-in-law, pregnant with her second child. “ah, really? alright then, thank you…” she bashfully grinned, accepting your plate.

“here, darling. let me take claire to bed.” you smiled, taking your granddaughter into your arms from her high chair. “eh? you sure, momma?” noah asks. “of course i am! just eat, dear. i’ll be fine if i skip a meal or two.” you assured your son as you headed up, taking claire to her cradle upstairs.

the small thing was already drooling and passing out in her chair. she had to rest in her crib, lest she get terrible posture. you burped the tiny baby over your shoulder before lowering her down as she clings to her binky, a plush of a bunny in a pink dress.

you admired the adorable baby for a few more moments before deciding to return to your room. but, as you were doing so, a bullet pierced the window, glass shards getting all over claire. “wh…what in the world..?!” you panicked as you ran back to your granddaughter, removing the sharp shards from her soft skin.

“satan almighty, what the fuck was that moxxie?!” a voice roared from outside, in the trees..? “i’m sorry, sir— there was a child! i couldn’t hurt it just because the target was there.” the so-called moxxie reasoned. “well, good job, cause you got glass on the little shit and woke it up!” the voice huffed out.

you cooed to your granddaughter, hushing her cries and gently rubbing her wounds. and just then, these mysterious creatures hopped in from the window. “ow— fuck, thanks a lot, moxxie, you fucking cuck!” the tallest creature groaned, painfully picking out the shards of glass on his feet. the moxxie creature looked rightfully offended as he held his gun towards you.

“who are you? are you here to kill me..?” you asked, frightful for your life. “who sent you?!” you started to grow defensive. “yeah, that doesn’t matter. all that does is that someone wants you dead. so, can we skip the whole ‘begging for your life’ thing?cause that’s not working on us.” the creature shrugged.

you looked everywhere for some sort of escape route. your eyes darted everywhere, trying so desperately to find a way out of this odd situation. but, there was nothing. there was no way to win this, the only thing you could do was accept your fate.

you kissed claire one last time, laying her in her cradle with her binky once more. because— well, that was all that you could do. you went in front of the gun, and lowered yourself to your knees. and with the muzzle in physical contact with your forehead…

BAM!

you bled out on the floor.

and, when you awoke, you were in an alleyway. the sky was red, and it smelt awful. your body felt weak. you stood up, looking for any reflective surface. you didn’t know what it was, but something was off.

you searched, coming upon a window from a store. and, there it was. your new appearance. your skin shined, reflecting in the red sky. and, clinked with each step you took; porcelain. your lips were as red as blood, and you were dressed in a simple dress, befitting a woman of your time.

the bell of the store rang, a red-deer man had been exiting. he glanced at you, curious. “ehh… pardon me, sir. do i know you? your staring is making me awfully uncomfortable…” you told the man. “ah! just as i thought.” he said through a radio filter. “just as you thought..?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“oh, darling, don’t you remember me? it’s me, your husband!” he grinned widely, taking you into his arms.

…

it all made sense now. he had paid those creatures to kill you… for his own selfish desires. from a demon such as alastor, you should have probably seen it coming.

“come along now, my love. 6 years is an awfully long time. we have a lot of catching up to do!” he pulled you along by your elbow. “and, smile, darling. you’re never fully dressed without one!” he sang out. “of course, darling…” you said as grit your teeth. the vomit you had to hold back was almost irrepressible.

and, as he dragged you along, it made you think.

was there truly a god?

a god who was merciful?

because, no merciful god would bind you with this demon in life and death.

EKKK HI!!! i acc have my own lore for wjen the children die 😋💞

— noah; age 56 (he goes to hell for his cover-up last chapter and animal cruelty) he married and had 3 kids 😋

— emilia; age 62 (she goes to hell for manipulating sm people into doing dirty work for her) she died unmarried, lowk thinking that she’d move in with her best friend despite it being controversial at the time

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

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alexa-fika · 9 months ago

Text

Threats for One (Crocodile x gn!Pigeon!reader)

Pt1, Pt2

Doflamingo Version

A/N Guys I have been COOKING in this series 🫦🫦, I really love this series and writing more for it but I have no idea what I can keep adding, I don’t want it to be repetitive either. Like I said I really love writing this series or this type of content that is darkish? The type that makes your stomach flutter, so if you have any requests or ideas please let me know 👀 🔪

Dividers by @/saradika

Crocodile sat in his office looking through paperwork until the door slammed open and a hand slammed down in said papers

“I finished your delivery, now give me the antidote,” they sneer

Crocodile stares at them as they slam the door. His stoic expression shifts to an expression of amusement as a smirk spreads across his lips. He remains silent for a moment, staring at them before chuckling to himself

“You’re a feisty one, I give you that… But, that is quite all right. I expected a bit of resistance from you; I will be honest; I was prepared for you to be a bit more of a handful.” He says with a mocking grin upon his scarred face

“Sit down.”

“To hell with that; I did your damn delivery, so give me the antidote.”

“I said you would get the antidote if you did the delivery; I never specified that you would get the antidote immediately. Now sit.”

They growl, pulling out a small dagger and swiftly slashing it over the stacks of papers he had been previously working on, effectively cutting the stack in half

“Give me the antidote, Crocodile, im not playing this damn twisted game with you.”

The stacks of paper collapse to the floor, but the smile on Crocodile’s face remains, albeit it has turned into something darker, more twisted. He eyes them, slowly and steadily standing up.

“So you’ve taken to threats to get what you want?” He draws a long puff of smoke from his cigar as he talks

“Hm, a bold and violent pigeon…, a rather unique specimen you are.” Crocodile walks around the desk, keeping a close eye on them.

“You must understand, Reader, you are an asset to me, one I can’t lose, right?

“Quite the way you treat your assets.”

“Do you think I’ve treated you badly so far?” He questions mockingly

“Perhaps, but only because a bit of rough handling was required on your end in order for you to understand your place.” He states, circling around them

“But in my opinion, I’ve been rather fair to you, even giving you a diluted antidote in good faith in order for you to get in line.”

“My place? You still seem to be under the impression that I am a mere employee and can’t seem to grasp the fact that I don’t work for you; I am not one of your underlings.”

“It seems we are at an impasse. I see myself as your employer and the Cross Guild as your job, and you seem to see yourself as a freelance worker,” Crocodile says as he circles around them until they are behind them

“A pigeon whose wings I can hold ransom and use to my advantage. Is that not what you are to me? And is it not fair that I’m asking you to be a simple messenger for me?” He says, letting out another puff of smoke as Reader turns around to face him

“I’d say it is a very fair arrangement, Reader. I just expect you to do what you are told; not that difficult, is it?”

“Just give me my damn antidote; find yourself some idiot willing to fall for that crap.”

“Is that really how you think this works? That I would just hire some random idiot to take over your deliveries?” He said, shaking his head

“You are rather mistaken; you have a good track record, no issues with deliveries, and I rather like the idea of having such messenger being one of a kind. That is why I need you. Start listening and sit down,” he said, holding the vial at arm’s length

“Or should I show you what would happen otherwise?” he said, bellowing a thick cloud of smoke

“Ne, Reader, are you sure you want to risk it, hmmm?”

They stared at the antidote hanging from his hands, a slip away from falling and, with it all chance of returning their wings to normal

Crocodile looks at them, the smirk and teasing glint in his eyes fading; instead, a serious, stern expression appears in its place.

“If you value those wings of yours at all, you’ll sit down and behave.”

There is a heavy, thick tension in the air as he keeps the antidote just out of their grasp.

“Sit. Down”

They glance desperately at the antidote

“I-I’m the only one of my kind. You destroy that, and you destroy your so-called asset; your deliveries would be canceled or delayed if we’re being hopeful,” they nervously try to reason

Crocodile lets out a chuckle as they talk

“I think you underestimate my influence. I do admire your sense of self-preservation… and the way you just attempted to use it as a bargaining chip, but you have to understand, Reader, what makes you think you are so irreplaceable?” he says as he continues to keep the antidote juts out of their grasp, dangling it in his fingers

“Losing you would delay deliveries, and some bounties and payments would be likely lost, but I would be able to find a replacement, less efficient and slower, but a replacement nonetheless,” he grumbles, lifting one finger of the vial

“Sit… down…”

“Okay! Okay!” They said, slumping down in the chair

“Please, just don’t destroy it; I need my wings back.”

“Finally, a bit of reason…” a slight smirk on his face slowly growing as he sees them comply.

“Now relax; a bit of trust and compliance can take us a long way,” he says taking a seat in his chair once again, staring at the fuming pigeon in front of him

“But this time, you are on a short leash. There will be none of that nonsense again; you are to do as you are told, is that clear, Reader?” he said gingerly, placing the vial on the table next to him, enough to be tauntingly close to them but far enough to be out of their reach

They glance at the vial, not taking their eyes off it as they speak

“Short leash?” They scoff

“You have me on a short leash already, you damn asshole; you gave me a diluted antidote and a time limit to come back.”

“There is a reason for that, little pigeon,” he responds to their scoff, a sadistic grin on his face

“It’s to ensure you come back in a manner that doesn’t involve me ripping your wings off and handing them to you; after all, you could decide to run off as soon as you get your antidote.”

“Besides, it’s only a few hours. Surely an experienced messenger such as yourself is capable of delivering such a simple package in that time frame?”

“You know what im also capable of doing?”

Crocodile’s expression remains unchanged as they continue to talk

“Enlighten me pigeon. What else are you capable of? Do you think you’ll be able to threaten me?”

“Im capable of using that timeframe to fly myself to a navy base; better yet, I could make one final stretch to make it to Marineford, maybe call for a buster call, im sure they will agree, seeing as three former warlords reside in it sending bounties for them”

Crocodile’s smile grows, growing dangerous as the second tick by

He leans back in his chair, taking a long drag from his cigar

“Hm, you are truly unpredictable, and that is very concerning. It seems, that you are going to be a lot more annoying than I already anticipated,” he mutters, letting slip a rather annoyed sigh.

“Try me.”

Crocodile stares at them with a smug, almost mocking grin, his cold eyes looking them up and down.

“Go ahead, go on ahead and try pigeon. I dare you to run off.”

A malicious smirk begins to spread across his face at the thought of them trying to run off

“We both know I’ll just catch up to you in a heartbeat and tear your wings off and string them to my belt before the Marines could even finish blinking.

Do you really not trust me not to have a contingency plan for any attempt to run off? Are you so confident in your ability to outrun me that you would wager your very wings?”

“You can’t be over me 24/7, Crocodile; perhaps I'll just take a detour in one of your deliveries to visit the good ol marines,” they taunt

“Hm, you sure have gained a rather large ego from a minimal amount of independence, Reader; such a shame…” he sighs, shaking his head like a disappointed parent

“You can try to make a detour at the marine base; I’d even welcome it; it gives me more of a reason to teach you your place.” Crocodile’s grimace darkens as he continues

In the blink of an eye, Crocodile had removed the hook and revealed the sharp knife that lay underneath, the blunt weapon now resting in Reader’s neck, tilting up the weapon and forcing them to move along with the knife to avoid getting nicked by the blade

“Or perhaps I should show you another lesson to help with your compliance?”

They glanced down at the knife pointed at them, attempting to back away from it, only to be stopped by a pillar of sand behind them, preventing any escape from the current threat

“There appears to be a slight misunderstanding here, little pigeon…

“You seem to believe you have the ability and the choice to escape? No, no, no, I’m in no mood to let that happen right now. he said as he pressed the sharp blade just a bit harder into their throat, causing a small red drop of blood to fall and roll down to the table

“I’ve entertained this game of yours…, but I fear it has gone on long enough little pigeon.”

“Then give me the antidote, and I’ll be off,” they mutter, wincing at the feeling of the dagger piercing their skin

A look of annoyance, mixed with boredom, fills his eyes as he looks over them

“I do Applaud your attempt, but do you really believe I’d make it that easy for you to gain the item you desire and run away in hopes of never having to serve me again?

Unfortunately, that is simply not how it works, little pigeon; you are a prized possession and asset of mine now. I’m afraid we will have to spend time with this arrangement for a while longer,” he said, grinning once again as he continued leaning closer to Reader as they tried to back away from him, stopped by the pillar of sand

“Truth of the matter is, I don’t trust you, little pigeon. And I don’t plan on letting you get too far off into our game.”

They glare at him, quickly running out of ways to defend their case and obtain their antidote, and both of them were highly aware of who had the winning hand

“Not so eager, are we, little pigeon? What happened to that bravery of yours? That defiance of running away to the Marines.” he smirked

“Let me give you a little tip: sometimes compliance just ends up being the simpler solution to a complex problem… and the easier path is almost always the preferable one,” he said, leaning back against his chair once again, putting their hook back over their dagger the sand pillar behind Reader slowly crumbling to the ground, he swiftly threw a vial and a pack of posters in their direction

They grunted as they easily caught the items

“That’s what I like to see, little pigeon, compliance.” Crocodile’s eyes narrowed once again, the smirk on his face growing wide

“That dilution should be enough to lift the poison for a few hours so that you can deliver those new bounties to the civilians in the neighboring islands.”

They grit their teeth, standing and heading for the door, only to be stopped as Crocodile calls for them once again

“What.” They growl

“Next time you try to pull off something like this again, I will be taking that tongue of yours, so be smart and keep it in your mouth rather than spouting nonsense that will only bring you more punishments.”

They tighten their fists but continue walking, only to once again be stopped by a pillar of sand; they glance back at the perpetrator of their blocked exit

“Am I being Clear?”

“Yes,” they hiss

“Now let me do my job.”

“Seems my ears are failing me. Would you repeat that? Am I being clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

I was thinking of maybe Mihawk appearing on the next part bur idk cause my head is empty so if y’all have any ideas or suggestions on what could happened then maybe I can write another part with mihawk??

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #cross guild x reader #cross guild #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #crocodile #op crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile

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ghostchems · 1 year ago

Note

the hesitation before making any physical contact (like hand-holding, hugging, or even just placing an arm over their shoulder)

Secondo and hesitant pda i just think it would be so cute and I'm sucker for Secondo and tour work. Love you, you are amazing

oh my goodness, thank u so much. i hope i did your request justice!

Secondo has never encountered someone quite like you. Usually, Satanists that are part of other organizations at least treat him like the satanic pope he is but not you. You treated him like any other frontman at the Satanic Summer Fest and hardly gave him the time of day.

And you were the one assigned to support Ghost for the festival. Secondo spent a lot of time with you and his usual moves weren’t working. The resting scowl that instilled fear in typical people was replaced with a blank expression any time you were near. He even tried the look once, the one that guaranteed at least some swooning but you had just scoffed at him.

He could have relegated the band’s dealing with you to one of the ghouls but the way you completely see through his intimidating facade is fascinating to him. It draws him to you even more. Secondo finds himself hovering near you during the prep for the show but despite this, he has hardly spoken more than a few words to you.

That is, until…

You’re buried in your phone, monitoring text threads from operations to make sure everything is running smoothly. Secondo comes up behind you and reaches for your shoulder but stops just short. He has wanted to touch you so badly for the last few days but now that the opportunity is here, he hesitates. Nervous. He hasn’t felt nervous in so long in a situation like this. After what feels like an eternity, he finally places his hand tenderly on your shoulder.

“Oh, Secondo, you’re not on for another half hour.” You glance up from your phone at him then focus back on the texts.

“I know, dolce.” Secondo manages to squeeze your shoulder which causes you to lower your phone and look at him. “I… I wanted to thank you for all your help these last few days.”

“Oh. Yeah, no problem.” You give a small smile. “It is my job after all.”

“Yes.” He removes his hand from your shoulder but doesn’t leave, his eyes never leaving yours. “Would… would you care to join me in watching the Multi Devil Marketing set after ours?”

He looks nervous. The man is an antipope and you are making him nervous. Is he asking you on a date?

“Yeah, okay. Sure.” You play it off casually. Secondo goes to reach for your hand but again, he falters. He manages to take it and bring it out in front of you. The original intention was to kiss the back of it like the gentleman he was but once he second guessed whether or not you would find that kind of thing charming. Instead, he clasps his other hand atop yours and squeezes.

“I will see you then.”

Ghost’s set goes without a hitch. No technical problems and the crowd loved every second of it. You are able to take a breather while watching the performance and ensuring things stay on track.

Secondo is by your side so quickly after the set is over, already out of his robes and in a pair of slacks, dress shirt and vest, all black with his aviators.

“Aren’t you hot?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate or say anything more, instead trailing after you through the festival grounds quietly. The two of you settle in a spot in the crowd near the stage. Secondo wants to make chitchat but he’s unable to do anything other than sneak quick glances at you from behind his sunglasses.

His eyes fall to your hand which is loose by your side. He could easily just take it into his, run his gloved thumb along the soft skin. Secondo reaches for it, one finger carefully moving to link with yours. In that moment, the crowd shifts and a few people push past the two of you.

You are wedged together, your chest pressed against his and you look up at him with big eyes. Secondo audibly groans, his arm twisting around your waist because he just can’t hold back anymore. With his hesitation to the wind, he leans down and kisses your cheek.

You stand up on your tippy toes and rest your hand on his neck, moving so that you can capture him by the lips. They are so soft and he gives another quiet groan, tugging you in closer to him.

Neither of you are focused on the band playing in front of you anymore.

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo #secondo request

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frozenjokes · 8 months ago

Text

Something Somber, But I Hope At Least I Can Do My Best To Help You

there are guns in this fic, this is the warning for that. she’s (the fic) is a tad angsty

“I’m going to kill you now.”

Grian stood in the shallow water, holding some sort of human device in his hands. He was alone today, but it was possible Scar was just recovering from his injuries at home. That would make sense. However, Mumbo did find it a little odd that Grian hadn’t brought much of his stuff, the bag left in the grass looking deflated in comparison to how full it usually was. Grian wasn’t moving very much, very stiff as he pointed whatever he was holding at Mumbo’s face. He looked.. a little upset? It didn’t really look like he wanted Mumbo to have it, he was holding it so tightly, but Mumbo was getting a little confused about what exactly the purpose of this was.

Mumbo leaned a little closer to sniff, but Grian winced, taking a couple steps back. Well. Guess that answers that. Mumbo’s fins rose and fell on his back and head, twitching with annoyance. Why did Grian call him over if all he wanted to do was stare?

“What,” Mumbo said, hoping Grian would at least try to explain whatever it was he was holding and why he wanted to show it off, but Grian remained stiff, lips pursed.

“You don’t get it. You don’t- I’m going to kill you, and you don’t understand. Do something. Get mad or hiss at me or lunge or something. Defend yourself.”

Ah, so he was upset. If he was trying to communicate why, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Mumbo wasn’t even sure if this was about Scar; he didn’t think so, Grian never said Scar’s name, but he wasn’t sure what else. Wait, could he still be mad about the whole bag stealing thing? That was so long ago! If that was the case, that was sufficiently a Grian problem, learn to let go of a grudge, buddy.

“What,” Mumbo asked again, hoping Grian would do a better job at explaining himself.

Grian huffed as if his own inability to be clear was Mumbo’s fault, “This is a gun. Gun,” Grian moved the device a little in his hands, but didn’t hold it any less tightly, “I am going to shoot you with it. I am going to kill you.”

Mumbo stared blankly. Alright, the thing he was holding was a ‘gun.’ Great. Was he going to show him what it did, or were they just going to sit here for another twenty minutes. Mumbo didn’t mean to be so impatient, but honestly, Grian was being stupid and Mumbo’s tail was still in quite a lot of pain, worse in the shallows.

“I can’t- you don’t get it. And you know, it’s nothing against you. It’s not. Well..” Grian paused, thinking, then shook his head, “No, it’s nothing against you, even if you stole all my shit and fucked up my ankle- I might have a limp for the rest of my life, y’know! I probably won’t. But I might! You tore through all sorts of important shit in there.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be understanding what Grian was saying, but the human didn’t look like it planned on stopping, so Mumbo let it be. Still, he kept a slightly warier eye.

“And I’m not sorry, by the way. About your tail. You deserved that as far as I’m concerned, stealing my stuff then trying to sing me into the water after I was injured- I know your game. That’s what you guys do. You kill people. At best you’re like- like a public nuisance. But you’re dangerous, I know you’re dangerous and I..” Grian trailed off, looking away, “I’m just afraid Scar doesn’t know.”

Ah. There it was. So this was about Scar.. oh, Mumbo hoped he was okay. Scar hadn’t looked like he was hurt too badly, but then again, anything could have happened. The bite could have gotten infected or was deeper than Mumbo had thought, or any other number of things. Given how upset Grian seemed to be, something must have happened.

“Scar doesn’t have a very strong sense of self preservation, he never has, and it drives just about everyone in his life up a wall. I don’t know why or what’s wrong with him or if he’s got some sort of mental health issue he isn’t addressing, but it’s always been this way and- and he just gets so focused. Like he gets an idea in his head and he literally can’t think of anything but pursuing it. And when I say literally, I mean it. He doesn’t think about anything else! I don’t even know if he can! You would not believe how much he talks about you, it’s all ‘Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo! Mumbo this, Mumbo that,’ and because we have to keep you a secret, all of this goes to me and-” Grian cut himself off, taking a second to breath.

“It’s not that I care. Scar can talk my ear off all he wants about anything he wants. Sure, it can be a little much and I get frustrated with him from time to time, but at the end of the day, he picked me, y’know? There’s a guy that can talk his way into anything he wants, who can make friends with basically anyone, and he still.. he wants to talk to me. And that’s a special thing, y’know? Scar is a special kind of guy. And it just kills me when he tries to throw his life away!” Grian kicked up sand and water as his voice rose through gritted teeth, and Mumbo jumped back, startled, though he immediately regretted the motion, hissing in a soft whine at the pain that pulsed through his tail. Grian stared at him for a long while, still pointing his ‘gun,’ but his shoulders fell.

“He’s going to be mad at me. For killing you. Doesn’t matter how many times I said I was going to or how many times I told him he couldn’t interfere if I let him come and see you. He’s going to feel bad, then I’m probably going to feel bad, and we’ll probably both feel very bad for a while, but it’ll be fine because Scar will be alive. That’s what matters, in the end. Not mermaids, not money- well, actually I won’t go that far. I’m going to sell the shit out of your body and I’ll probably be very well off for the rest of my life. I think I’m allowed to want that too! I think that’s fair.”

“And I’ll have you know, Scar’s not innocent either, he still wants you in his zoo even if he doesn’t talk about it around here anymore. As if you’d even understand. I’m telling you to your face I’m going to kill you and sell all your body parts and you couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s impressive almost, how neutral your face is right now. You look a bit like one of those dogs from those kennel ads? All of them looking all sad with the sad music trying to make you feel sad so you go out and adopt. That’s how you look all the time. It’s the eyes. All big and dark like that. Ugh.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure what to do. Clearly this human was in some kind of distress, but the more it talked, the more he was sure he had no clue what was actually going on. Had it come looking for some sort of comfort? Why Mumbo? Out of everyone Grian knew, surely Mumbo was the least qualified by far.

Did.. he know anyone else? Humans were social animals, Mumbo knew this, but mermaids were too, and even despite this, some had trouble fitting in. Mumbo had never seen another human other than Scar hang around with Grian.. maybe while Scar was healing and resting, he just didn’t have anyone else to go to.

Well, Mumbo knew a few things about humans. They liked to talk (loudly) and yell at each other (loudly) and call each other’s names and be obnoxious to each other for fun. Though, given Mumbo did not speak human, this seemed out of the question in terms of things he could do to help.

Humans.. liked touch. Mumbo was pretty sure of that, no matter how foreign it always seemed. Scar was always touching Grian affectionately, and despite the latter never looking all too thrilled, he never really reacted negatively either, sometimes even visibly relaxing. Is.. that what Grian was looking for?

Mumbo steeled himself, less for the pain of maneuvering in shallow water and more for reaching out his hand toward the human ahead. Sure, maybe they’d had a rocky start, but Grian was clearly in distress. If Mumbo could show him that he cared, maybe Grian would understand he meant to be friendly? Even still, he found his head and body cringing back in anticipation of The Touch, though he kept his arm extended, one eye still watching anxiously.

Grian looked.. well, honestly, Mumbo couldn’t tell if he was any more or less distressed than before, but it felt a little bit different than before?

“What.” Grian said, looking rapidly from his gun to Mumbo to Mumbo’s hand, eyebrows pinched, “What is this. What are you doing.”

Ah, yeah, that made sense. This was pretty radically different behavior for Mumbo; if he was on the other side of it, he’d be wary too. Though, he didn’t quite have the words to explain himself. For a moment Mumbo considered singing, something soft and somber so Grian might understand his intentions, but given how the human reacted last time he sang.. no, that would be a bad idea.

‘Red,’ he whistled instead, “Grian.” Mumbo’s gills flared gently, frustrated. Why was this so hard. Maybe Grian was put off by how uncomfortable Mumbo looked.. maybe looking a little less like touching Grian was one of the top ten worst things that could possible happen to him would be a start.

Mumbo strained to get a little closer despite the pain, holding out both of his arms instead of just the one, palms up. He managed to open both of his eyes, though they were still pretty narrowed in the bracing anticipation of something unpleasant. He even tried to face Grian completely instead of shying away, though he couldn’t quite force himself to manage that entirely. Grian’s mouth hung open, like breathing that way might give him more information on what exactly was happening here. Unfortunately, intention was not something humans could smell.

Grian slowly, slowly lowered his gun, not letting go, but not holding so tightly either, leaving it in one hand at his side. His arms were shaking- actually, mostly of him was shaking.. Mumbo wasn’t quite sure what that meant. Likely a symptom of human distress; it didn’t seem voluntary, quite unlike the quivering of mermaid fins when they were very angry.

Mumbo snapped back to reality when Grian moved, taking a slow step forward. Then another. Then another.

‘It’s okay. This is okay. I’m sorry about Scars, and I’m sorry you’re worried. I think you’re worried. That human seems like it’s survived quite a few injuries though, I think it’ll be okay. I thought you were going to hurt each other, and even now, I’m not entirely sure you weren’t. Mermaids have thick skin. You do not. Humans are too fragile, you can’t be fighting each other like that.’

“You’ve been watching us, haven’t you. I mean, of course you have, but this is.. I guess you’ve really been paying attention. Is that what we sound like to you, just all sorts of nothing speech all day? I bet that gets annoying. I’ve never heard you talk this much. I guess your language is also pretty complex. It must be, unless you’re just repeating the same few concepts. It’s hard to tell. Are you really that intelligent? Wow, if you knew what I just said you’d probably be offended. But I just- I mean you’re just a big fish, yeah? It would be crazy to just assume you had comparable intelligence just because you kinda look like a person. But that’s what Scar thinks of course.”

‘I have no idea what you’re saying, but I’m pretty sure this is how human conversation works. You take turns talking for long periods of time and stare very uncomfortably at each other’s faces. This is a foreign concept to me, Red. Humans are extremely weird.’

“It’s funny how when you’re saying one of our names the clicking stops. Did you do that just for us? So we’d be able to say them? I just assumed some mermaid words didn’t have clicks, but you don’t stop. You don’t stop at all actually, it doesn’t even look like you breathe.”

‘Is this the appropriate time to speak. You humans don’t pause for very long before another one starts talking. My arms are getting tired, are you going to touch them and feel better or not.’

Mumbo almost thought Grian understood, because at nearly the same time Mumbo spoke, it moved forward another step, far closer than what was comfortable, though, to be fair, this entire experience was uncomfortable. Couldn’t Grian just reach out and touch Mumbo’s hands from as far away as possible? What was the point of getting this close?

“You look. Uncomfortable.” Grian cringed back, demonstrating the word and gesturing vaguely to Mumbo before his neutral expression returned. “Uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable! How did he know? Mumbo had gone through so much effort to look friendly and inviting, he hadn’t even bared his teeth once! Mumbo took a moment to inspect himself, a few quick embarrassed clicks escaping his throat when he saw every single one of his fins across his back flared out and on end. Even the big one at the end of his tail was all spiky and sticking out of the water, goodness. Mumbo forced them all down at once, re-presenting his arms.

Grian laughed, which Mumbo was 90% sure was a happy sound, and then relaxed a little more, waving his hands in a ‘no’ gesture.

“I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to, Mumbo. I’m not- Do you just think that’s a human thing? Lots of animals enjoy physical contact y’know, we actually domesticated a ton of animals for the sole purpose of petting them. I have to think you guys also enjoy it, at least with each other. You’re just flighty with humans, and I’m guessing lots of other stuff in the water. Do mermaids get eaten a lot? I can not imagine that being an issue. You’re huge.”

Grian backed up a little, but not out of fear. Just.. stepping away. Mumbo dropped his arms, somewhat relieved, but a tiny part of him was also a little annoyed. Clearly there was something magic about human touch, and Mumbo was kinda starting to want to know what the fuss was about. But Grian kept its distance now, and Mumbo didn’t think he would be able to convince it to approach him again. Shame. Though, admittedly, it was nice to not have his personal bubble be so thoroughly invaded.

“Hey,” Grian said, grabbing Mumbo’s attention back, “This isn’t- I’m still going to kill you. I’m going to.” It raised its gun half heartedly, but stopped, dropping it with a huff and a little stomp of its foot. “If you hurt him. Scar. Again. If you even touch him I’m going to- I won’t hesitate. If you kill him I’m going to- I’ll be really upset. So don’t. Do that. Clear? Are we clear?”

Mumbo stared. Grian stared back.

“Are we clear? Yes or no.”

“What,” Mumbo said, deeply confused, but Grian only huffed. Mumbo flicked his tail fins with a short hiss, ‘I don’t speak your dumb language, if you want me to understand then tell me clearly.’

“Don’t sass me.”

‘I don’t like your tone.’

“Shush!” Grian drew a finger over his mouth and Mumbo copied the gesture, flicking his fins. Grian threw up his hands like he’d been mortally offended, turning immediately on his heel. Humans. So dramatic. Internally, Mumbo noted the gesture for later as something to use when the humans were being particularly annoying.

“Whatever!” Grian declared, not looking at Mumbo as he spoke, “I’m leaving!” He marched away out of the water, stomping and splashing as he left in what Mumbo was sure was a conscious effort to be as obnoxious as possible. Amused, he began his careful backpedal into deeper water, sighing contentedly. After a minute, Grian seemed to be quite offended when he looked back to see Mumbo also leaving, yelling and calling out and being a total nuisance, but Mumbo ignored him, relieved to be out of the shallows.

Scar was all kinds of odd, but Grian felt like a different beast sometimes. Scar was predictable in his weirdness, completely baffling, but consistent. Grian felt like he reacted differently to the same exact situation every time, the one exception being when he felt he was in danger, in which he would just scream. Loudly. Shrilly. Only sometimes justified.

Maybe it would just take a little more time.

Scar was easy; easy to impress, easy to speak to, and easy to watch- Mumbo would say Scar was easy to be around, but that wasn’t quite the case with his chronic lack of environmental awareness, always swinging his arms and moving erratically. But at this point Mumbo was used to it. In a way, that erraticness was predictable too; Mumbo knew to keep a little more space between the two of them because of it. But Scar was an open book, and Grian clearly wasn’t.

He was guarded like Mumbo was, and that was a good thing. Scar’s carelessness was written all over his body, and Grian had his moments of impulsive stupidity, but Mumbo didn’t worry for his life like he did for Scar’s. Briefly, he wondered if Grian worried about Scar as well.

#the last of these I have written so far #thank you for the support :)#hermitcraft #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #do I dare tag this as grumbo #I won’t but if you see this then YOU know that’s where it’s going #tw: guns #cw: guns #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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sommerregenjuniluft · 1 year ago

Text

@jegulus-microfic september 9 — carry — 1.6k words — mentions of sex at the end of the chapter! kinda nsfw

or; in which Regulus has a tense neck and James is so, so helpful <3

Regulus has, frankly, had enough of carrying children around for the next three of his lifetimes.

Ron has busted his knee open on the gravel outside while playing catch and is now crying? Regulus is cradling him close as he whisks back inside and playing doctor as he gets the gentle disinfectant and band-aids. Neville had a little pee accident? Regulus is carrying him to the bathrooms with outstretched arms for a change of clothes. Harry is getting into a fight with another kid over a toy situation involving being mean to Hermoine? Regulus has to swoop down and take him to the quiet room to calm him down and then talk about voicing one’s feelings or getting the help of an adult.

The frown gradually eases off his little forehead behind his round glasses as he listens to Regulus, sniffling occasionally. He has a spiderman themed patch over his left eye that Regulus finds mortifyingly adorable.

Honestly, Regulus would have quit long ago if it wasn’t for how easily these little stinkers have weaseled their ways into his heart.

Regulus is 23 and his back is a tragedy.

His joints bop and creak and the muscles in his neck are stiffer than cement at his point.

Being bent over the low desks in the tiny chairs to help the kids arts and craft the decoration for this Friday’s Halloween party is not doing him any favors either.

“Stan Lee called, he wants his wall-crawling, web-shooting superhero back!” a warm voice comes from the door to their group’s room.

Well, Regulus supposes there might be one or two more reasons besides the kids he likes his job for.

Harry groans next to him without looking up, vaguely wagging his arm in James’ direction, “Noo, daddy, I can’t go yet. I need to finish my snow owl!”

Regulus finally lets himself look up from his seat to catch James crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe. He’s in a crimson cable knit sweater over a crisp white button down and dark gray slacks that fit inappropriately snug in all the right places.

James nods solemnly, “Right, right, because the other five snow owls taped to your bedroom window need one more for company or they’ll be lonely, huh?”

Harry sighs exasperatedly, “This one’s not coming home with us.”

James raises an eyebrow at Regulus in question, badly concealing his grin.

“These are for the party on Friday,” Regulus supplies helpfully, quickly swiping the glue from Ron before he sticks it in his mouth the fourth time today. Lily was the one to sign herself up for bringing Harry as well as brownies and lemonade so Regulus isn’t too surprised it wasn’t at the front of James’ mind.

This one shoots up then, “Oh, fu—n,” gawking at his own slip-up.

Regulus levels him with an unimpressed stare, lips twitching.

James drives his fingers through his chaotic curls, “Yeah, funny thing, I actually meant to talk to you about it, Regulus.”

A gentle shiver tingles it’s way up Regulus’ spine, “It’s Mr. Black.”

James makes a face that says obviously, “I know, love,” licks his lips to conceal the cheeky smile threatening to spill. Regulus wants to hit him. “Lily actually had something come up, and I was able to postpone a meeting so now I’m the one bringing Harry and staying for the buffet.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Regulus’ jaw might drop a bit.

James hums happily and then steals a pen out of the little basket on the table next the door, “Unfortunately I’m no good with brownies, I do however make the best fruit sticks covered in chocolate— so,” points the pen at Regulus with a grin, “Where do i sign?”

Regulus ducks his head against the flush crawling up his cheeks as he stands up, “Um— I’ll get the list.”

“Oh, no worries, Regulus,” his colleague Dorcas leers from across the table, “I’ve got the gremlins managed. I think James would be happy to head upstairs with you and while you’re at it,” Regulus already knows what’s coming as Dorcas’ smile turns overly sweet, “I’m sure he could give you a hand with my new desk chair with those big muscles of his.”

Regulus looks over at James, “You don’t have t—”

“Lead the way,” James says with a wink.

James carries the oversized carton up the stairs without breaking a fucking sweat while Regulus had taken one look at it, nudged it with a knee to see how heavy it was and then told Dorcas not a chance in hell.

Because, as established, his back is a tragedy and all that.

It’s twinging now too as he takes the thick binder out of the cabinet and drops it on top with a thunk.

Regulus tilts his neck and lets his upper spine crack with a grunt, does the same on the other side while he flicks through the papers.

James looks at him with an unnaturally blank expression when he asks, “You okay?”

Regulus rolls his shoulders to ease the tension, making a non-comical noise.

“Well, it’s no surprise you have some back pain working with children.”

Regulus chuckles humorlessly, flicking a glance James’ way, “What are you, a physio-therapist?”

“Oh,” a smug chuckle that has Regulus turning warily, “Close enough.”

Regulus crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits for him to elaborate.

James cocks his head, mimics his stance and waits him out patiently.

Regulus has half the mind to kick him.

Asks, with an eyeroll that’s nearly painful, “Well, what’s your occupation?”

“I’m a chiropractor.”

“Oh, you’re kidding.”

“Am not, today might just be your lucky day.”

Regulus considers that for a moment.

He could easily shrug it off as a joke. Roll his eyes once more, hand James the damn list to jot down his name and stupid, sexy chocolate covered grapes and strawberries and god knows what else and then kick him the fuck out and back down to collect Harry and have him on his merry way.

He could do that.

Should, probably.

It’s just that his neck really fucking aches and it’s even gotton to the point of disturbing his sleep the past few days.

Regulus sighs, “I don’t have any cash on me right now.”

James snorts, “I didn’t expect you to pay me, love.”

Regulus worries his bottom lip between his teeth for another moment.

“C’mon you look stiff as a board,” James nods his chin at him and Regulus turns dutifully but not without another eyeroll.

James steps closer and immediately draws his left palm up over his back, thumb tracking his spine. “I’m warning you though, these babies have it in them,” digs the pads of his strong fingers into Regulus’ shoulders for enunciation.

Regulus blames what comes out of his mouth next on the mind boggling spice of James’ cologne, “I’m good with hard.”

The hands twitch against Regulus for a moment and he hears a noise that sounds like James is running his tongue along his teeth behind his lips.

Voice husky and breath tickling Regulus’ dark curls, “Alright,” a hand running down Regulus’ spine as a thumb digs into a pressure point in his neck, “Good to know.”

James seems to mostly palpate the hotspots of Regulus cramped muscles and the places of where joints would have to be realigned.

Body heat warm from behind and palms thorough as he kneads Regulus’ hard muscles and puts pressure along where he scans for more issues.

When he circles back to his neck and uses both his hands on one side Regulus can’t help but groan, shivering involuntary.

James makes a small cooing noise, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I'm sorry.”

Regulus pants a breath, shakes his head feebly, “Mm, you’re good.”

“This doesn’t look too good, love,” James voice rumbles, closer to Regulus’ ear now.

Regulus hisses at the sting when James releases the muscle and goes over to the other side. His mouth drops open and he whines too loudly when James picks back up with his administrations.

“Regulus,” if he was less caught up the unforgiving press of his fingers Regulus maybe would have noticed how strangled James sounded.

He works him dutifully through the other side and then slides his palms past Regulus’ shoulder blades and rests them at the dip of his back for a lingering second before gently squeezing at his waist.

Prompts Regulus into turning around and coming to face the other man again.

His lips look a bit redder than Regulus remembers.

“Well, that’s all I can do for now without my office massage table,” James rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly.

Regulus rolls his shoulders out and notes with satisfaction how much looser he feels already, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, love,” James replies with a smile so warm Regulus melts a bit around the edges.

He feels embarrassingly gooey.

James ends up filling out the sheet and then leaving with Harry five minutes later.

When he shows up Friday noon he’s clad in ridiculously tight pants again and a ridiculously orange pumpkin jumper. Also cat ears for some reason.

Lily is able to join for a few minutes at the end, watching Harry perform the trick or treating song they had the kids learn and then taking him home.

James ends up staying to help clean up.

He feeds Regulus one of the last chocolate covered fruit sticks—grape, strawberry and blueberries, honey melon and peaches.

Regulus ends up blowing James for it, turning him into a groaning, whimpering mess as he sucks his heavy cock into the back of his throat and James retaliates by realigning his spine in a very non-chiropractor way.

They crush the rest of Molly’s blueberry muffins while they’re at it.

#god im so tired #wrote the last bit barely conscious #suddenly they were fucking?#lol #gnight guys<3 #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

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bloody-bee-tea · 1 year ago

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BeeTober 2023 Day 17 - Auction

“Hey, Geto, your stalker is here,” Yuji loudly calls out and Suguru stiffens before he slowly turns around, dread already forming in his gut.

To his immense relieve he spots a mop of fluffy white hair, which means it’s not Mahito. Satoru might be a stalker as well, but at least he’s less of the worrying and more of the annoying kind.

Satoru doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Suguru says “No.”

“Aw, come on,” Satoru immediately pleads, flopping down over the counter as if he’s made out of water instead of flesh and bones. “Please?”

“I am not going to make your damn concoction,” Suguru says because the thing that Satoru orders on the regular is revolting and honestly a little bit worrying.

He’s going to die of diabetes one day, and he can’t be older than twenty two. He’s too young to die.

“How else am I going to survive then?” Satoru whines out, blinking up at Suguru who tries his best not to get lost in those damn blue eyes.

“Find another coffee shop?” he suggests and busies himself with wiping down the counter, pushing Satoru off in the process.

“And make you lose your best customer? I think not,” Satoru shoots back to which Suguru only rolls his eyes.

“Worst customer, you mean,” he replies and Satoru pouts at him.

“If you don’t make my coffee, I’ll stay here until your shift ends and then I’ll accompany you home,” Satoru finally says—threatens more like—and after giving him the flattest stare Suguru can muster, he turns around and gets started on Satoru’s concoction.

He pointedly doesn’t think about the fact that he has the monstrosity memorised, which is actually quite the feat considering that Satoru uses almost all their toppings in it.

“Aw, I knew you loved me,” Satoru sighs out when he puts it down in front of him and there is something entirely too pleased on his face.

“Now get out of my face,” Suguru tells him, not having much hope that Satoru will leave immediately.

He usually likes to stick around for a while, at least until his drink is empty, and Suguru knows that he’s quite friendly with all of the staff. It’s just Suguru who he seems to annoy to no end; even Shoko had a nice thing to say about him even though she only comes in to pester their manager Utahime and Suguru doesn’t even want to think about that.

“If it isn’t my favourite barista,” a new voice jolts Suguru out of his thoughts and this time, a cold shudder runs down his back.

He curses the day Mahito found out where he works and coming face to face with him now, it’s not the first time that Suguru debates if quitting his job here wouldn’t be easier.

The only thing stopping him is the fact that Mahito will find him again sooner or later and Suguru is not a job hopper.

“Go fuck yourself,” Suguru says, not even pretending to be nice to him and he can feel Yuji’s eyes on him.

It’s a badly kept secret that he and Mahito have a history and it’s even a worse kept secret that Mahito is an unhinged creep who is probably going to try something sooner or later.

Suguru is just waiting for the other shoe to drop and it’s making him sick to his stomach.

“I’d rather you do it,” Mahito drawls out and Suguru sneers at him.

“Not a chance in hell,” he presses out, even though he knows he shouldn’t engage with him more than he has to but he can’t help himself.

“We’ll see about that,” Mahito ominously says and Suguru clenches his teeth so hard together he fears they are going to crack.

There’s a tense silence for a few moments before Yuji butts in.

“A customer, how nice. Geto, you’re needed elsewhere,” he says and nudges him out of the way. “What can I get you?” he then asks Mahito and there’s only cheer in his voice but Suguru caught a glimpse of his expression and it’s pretty jarring to see easy going Yuji glare at someone like that.

Still, Suguru is thankful for it and shuffles to the side, as far away from Mahito as he can be. He didn’t notice that it put him close to Satoru though.

“You okay?” Satoru asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and even he is giving Mahito a considering glance.

“Fine,” Suguru shortly gives back though he softens a bit when Satoru frowns at his response. “Promise, I’m fine. He’s just—”

He doesn’t actually know how to finish that sentence but Satoru hums.

“Unhinged and dangerous?” he finally asks and Suguru huffs out an unamused laugh.

“Probably, yeah,” he admits, eyeing Mahito.

He’s scrawny as hell, but Suguru knows that he’s sturdy and lithe. He couldn’t take Suguru in a fight, not ever, but that’s not always the most dangerous thing anyway. He knows Mahito is fast, and crazy enough to carry weapons with him. Plus, he has no regard for his own well-being and Suguru would really rather not clash with him.

He might have to, though, if Mahito keeps up his stalking tendencies because Suguru will not allow him to find out where he lives.

“You staying safe?” Satoru asks, eying Mahito up and down as if he’s seizing him up.

“Trying to,” Suguru shortly gives back and then turns away from Mahito. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Fair,” Satoru agrees and then smiles at Suguru. “Now, here’s the movie I saw last night,” he then says and Suguru immediately groans.

Satoru has the extremely annoying habit to retell a movie in excruciating detail and Suguru already feels his brain leak out of his ears.

“Not a chance,” he interrupts Satoru before he can even really start, which makes him pout again and Suguru sighs, almost immediately giving in. “You have ten sentences to describe the movie,” he relents and immediately regrets his every life choice when Satoru’s eyes start to sparkle.

They really are incredibly blue, Suguru finds himself thinking right before Satoru assaults him with endless run-on sentences. Suguru is not even sure he pauses to take a breath and by the time Satoru finally falls silent again, a good fifteen minutes have passed.

“You’re insane,” is all Suguru can say to the onslaught he just had to withstand and Satoru grins at him.

“It worked though, so worth it,” Satoru declares and it’s only then that Suguru remembers Mahito.

He whips around but he only sees Yuji who gives him a thumbs up.

“He left like ten minutes ago!”

Suguru lets out a breath of relief and even manages a smile for Satoru.

“Thanks, I guess,” he awkwardly says because he has to admit that it did kind of work and that it was incredibly kind of Satoru to distract him like that.

“Thank me by giving me my next drink for free,” Satoru says, batting his eyes at him.

“Absolutely not,” Suguru immediately replies because one, he made that drink often enough to know that it costs a small fortune and two, he’s not going to enable Satoru’s sugar intake.

“You meanie,” Satoru grumbles but he keeps smiling at Suguru. “Anyway, see you next time I guess,” he then calls out, dumping his cup in the trash and waving at Suguru.

“Not too soon, please,” Suguru calls after him but he knows that Satoru will be back two days later because he always comes in on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, just like clockwork.

“He’s really nice,” Yuji suddenly says from behind him and Suguru does not jump.

“He’s an annoying, arrogant brat.” He knows that because he spent enough time chatting with him when Satoru comes in to pick up his drink.

He’s also incredibly intelligent, self-aware, passionate about the things he enjoys, kind and somewhat of a nerd. Suguru has no idea what to make of him, if he’s being honest.

“Better than that other guy,” Yuji says with a shrug and Suguru has to agree with him.

Satoru is way better than Mahito.

~*~*~

Suguru doesn’t know why he didn’t protest harder when the promotion idea for the shop came up the first time, but when his name is being called out he regrets his every life choice that brought him here.

Auctioning each of their staff off for an hour had seemed like a great idea on paper—especially with how popular they all were—until Suguru has to stand in the spotlight and he spots Mahito in the crowd.

He really should have known better.

Mahito gives him a grin that makes goose bumps break out all over his body and he wonders if he can fake being sick to get out of this.

“The starting bid is 1.500¥,” Utahime calls out to the crowd and immediately there are plates being lifted.

Suguru thinks he’d be equal parts flattered and embarrassed when the bids go up to 15.000¥ in almost no time, but the fact that Mahito is still bidding as well makes cold sweat break out on his forehead.

He’ll only have to spend an hour with him, and they will stay in the shop so there is not really something that could happen but with Mahito everything is possible, and not in a good way.

If this goes on, Suguru doesn’t have to fake being sick.

“I see 20.000¥,” Utahime says and Suguru doesn’t even have to check to know that it’s Mahito’s bid. “Going once, twice and—”

“150.000¥,” a new voice calls out and silence falls over the room.

“What the fuck,” Yuji mutters out next to Suguru and Suguru wants to agree.

That’s an incredible amount of money and he thinks he knows who the voice belongs to.

“150.000¥ going once, going twice,” Utahime gets back into the swing after a short, surprised silence, “and sold to the guy with the number 8!”

Suguru would love to confirm if it really is Satoru who just spent an obscene amount of money to spend one hour with him, but before he can Mahito is leaning in way too close.

“You’ll regret that,” he whispers before he’s bodily shoved out of the way by a smiling Satoru.

“Suguru! I do believe this hour is mine,” he says with a nasty look at Mahito and Suguru can only mutely nod. “Wonderful, I ordered food and drinks, so if you would, please,” he sing-songs and offers Suguru his arm as if he’s a damsel.

Suguru takes it, because what else is he going to do after Satoru paid for this and then he’s being led away to a table that is covered entirely with the baked goods they offer in the shop.

“Who is going to eat all of that?” Suguru asks as he slides into the booth and Satoru grins at him.

“You. Well, us really, but you haven’t eaten today, right? So most of it goes to you.”

“How do you know that?” Suguru asks and Satoru’s grin softens.

“You were too busy preparing everything to stop and eat, right?” he asks and Suguru flushes with how accurate it is. “So eat up.”

“Thank you,” Suguru mumbles and picks one of the cones. “But you—really shouldn’t have spent that much money.”

“I really should have,” Satoru says and glares at Mahito, who is still standing in the middle of the shop, glaring at Satoru in return. “No way in hell was he going to get that hour with you.”

“That’s—nice, but it’s not really a long-term solution,” Suguru mutters, before he bites into the cone. “He’ll only be worse after this,” he adds once he swallowed and Satoru turns back around to him.

“No, he won’t,” he says as if he knows something Suguru doesn’t and Suguru slowly lowers the cone.

“What did you do?” he carefully asks and the grin he receives now is sharp and dangerous.

“I have some connections,” he cryptically says and Suguru stares at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” A horrifying thought occurs to Suguru. “Are you with the mafia?”

Satoru bursts into laughter at that and Suguru feels that is entirely unfounded. It’s a valid thing to ask after someone said such a line after all.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” Satoru asks him once he calmed down, still way too amused for Suguru’s liking but the flush that is now on his face suits him wonderfully Suguru thinks.

“Should I?”

He’s Satoru. There’s hardly more Suguru needs to know.

“My family name is Gojo,” he says and Suguru almost drops the cone. “I’m the heir to the Gojo Group.”

“Holy fuck,” Suguru whispers out because everyone knows the Gojo Group.

“So you really didn’t know,” Satoru says, and he sounds pleased.

Him being the heir to such a family would explain how he can spend that much money on Suguru, but it still doesn’t explain his comment about Mahito.

“What did you do to Mahito?” he asks and Satoru’s eyes flicker back to the man in question.

“Turns out he’s wanted in several other countries. You really do not keep good company, Suguru.”

“It’s not company I choose,” he gruffly gives back, because he moved here to get away from him. “So he’s going to be arrested?”

“Hopefully today,” Satoru agrees and then turns a blinding smile at Suguru. “And until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Satoru, you really shouldn’t have spent that much money on me,” Suguru says again though he can’t deny that he’s flattered.

“How else was I going to stick it to him and get a date with you?” Satoru easily asks and Suguru chokes on his cone.

Satoru wordlessly pushes Suguru’s coffee closer to him, and Suguru takes a few desperate sips of it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he finally wheezes out and Satoru seems almost affronted.

“Well, my flirting didn’t seem to work that well, so I had to resort to this,” he says with a shrug and Suguru is glad that this time he didn’t have anything in his mouth.

“Flirting?”

“Come on, Suguru, you think I spent half an hour talking to the others? I only ever come in during your shifts anyway.”

Suguru wants to say that he didn’t know that, but he stops himself. He did know the days Satoru comes in, he just refused to make that connection in fear of what he’d read into that.

“You’re kind of famous,” is what he says to that and Satoru taps his finger on the table.

“I kind of don’t care,” he replies, clearly impatient and when Suguru doesn’t say something to that—still too busy processing everything he learned in the last five minutes—Satoru leans back with a sigh.

“Look, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, just think about this as me helping the shop out, alright? You’ll spend this hour eating and when this is over, I won’t come by again. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“No!” Suguru blurts out and reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his, fearing he’ll get up and leave right this second. “Just give me a moment to wrap my head around this,” he pleads and Satoru slumps in his seat.

“Fine,” he mutters but he doesn’t hesitate to close his fingers around Suguru’s.

It’s a lot to take in, Suguru can’t deny that, but the most important part right now is that he doesn’t let Satoru leave. Well, actually, the most important part is that he gives Satoru an answer.

“You could have just asked, you know,” Suguru softly says, moving his hand to thread their fingers together.

“You don’t ask people who work in the service industry out for a date while they are on their job,” Satoru gives back. “That’s just rude and puts you in a bad spot.”

It’s incredibly considerate of him and Suguru can feel himself soften.

“So you tried to flirt.”

“Hey, my flirting is great!”

“Except for the part where I didn’t even pick up on it,” Suguru shoots back and Satoru narrows his eyes at him.

“Well, maybe that’s a problem with you,” he considers and Suguru laughs.

“I’m technically not on the clock now. You gonna ask, or what?” he then challenges Satoru, who immediately straightens up in his seat.

“Suguru, I really like you. Would you go on a date with me?”

“You mean other than this?” Suguru can’t help but to tease and he fights the urge to kiss the stupid pout off Satoru’s face.

“You’re so mean to me,” Satoru whines and Suguru gently squeezes his hand.

“Did you miss the part where this is already a date?” he asks him and watches how Satoru’s face lights up.

“You could have just said yes,” he still complaints and Suguru laughs.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he shoots back and he can’t deny that there is something incredibly comforting about this banter.

“I’m going to take you out on at least two more dates, for the emotional stress you caused me,” Satoru mutters under his breath and Suguru lifts their still clasped hands to his lips, so he can press a kiss to Satoru’s knuckles.

“Deal,” he breathes out and enjoys the dumbfounded look on Satoru’s face, which quickly gets replaced by a vibrant blush.

“You can’t just do that!”

“Watch me,” Suguru shrugs and gets back to his cone, pretending to be entirely unfazed, even though his heart is beating away incredibly fast in his chest.

“Oh, I am,” he hears Satoru say and he refuses to acknowledge his own blush at that, though going by the way Satoru snickers, he definitely notices it.

They spend their time bantering like that, keeping their fingers threaded together and neither of them notices when the hour passes, both secure in the knowledge that they don’t have to keep track of that.

There will be many more hours ahead of them, after all.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #stsg #geto suguru #gojo satoru #coffee shop au #no powers #getting together #hurt/comfort #mahito #is a creep #stalking #protective gojo satoru #fluff

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