#the power of banging out the tunes

[stealingpotatoes]

im not reblogging the post bc it's really long but POINTS!! there is a ME! and MY CAT! on a STAFF POST!

[itsnotjustgibberish]

I think they’re playing in a band!!

Creature features banging out the tunes

Last years drawings: 1, 2

[fluttershywheresheshouldntbe]

banging out the tunes

[giftcard9741]

If you can work from (#Amazon ) home please let me know, we have alot of openings. You can also work around your children as well (background noise is fine!). It's what we do. Morning Shift: Night Shift: 3am-6am. 3pm-6pm 7am-10am. 7pm-10pm 11am-2pm. 11pm-2am… See more

[hxzbinwrites]

Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!

Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS

In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.

Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.

——————

Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…

Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.

“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.

“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.

He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.

“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”

Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.

“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”

“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.

———————

About 20 years later

Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.

‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.

Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she���d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.

“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.

“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”

“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”

“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”

(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”

“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”

“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”

“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.

———————

Present Day

“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).

“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”

Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”

“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”

“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”

While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.

“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”

“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”

Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”

———————

Word Count: 1,560

[dcxdpdabbles]

A cult managed to summon the one true king among the dead. Danny Fenton, reincarnation of Elvis Presley, is summoned while performing Viva Las Vegas (or any other Elvis song) for the school talent show

The cult got the best of them, which is a really frustrating pill to swallow. If there was one thing the Gotham vigilantes pride themselves on, it was the ability to plan so well that others accused them of being Seers.

A few others thought that Batman and his kin were not from this planet or this plane of existence. Yet when it came down to it, they were all, in the end, mere ordinary humans.

That's why their stupid trapped worked so well. It was based on magic, which is much harder to track when the stuff makes their equipment go haywire.

They had each been fooled into coming to the same warehouse at the same time, believing that the call was sent out by one of their own, only to step right into a magical circle that bound them. Now, here they sat, unable to break out of their chains because it wasn't metal but conscious manipulation of light.

Duke tried his best to get them out, but the light had magic constantly moving, and it was hard for his powers to get a proper grip on it. Meanwhile, the cultists surrounded the circle, chanting in a tune to a set of drums.

It would have been an interesting ceremony to observe in any other situation. Bruce has always been fascinated by the various cultures he encounters, from the various worlds on his home planet to those outside of it.

He's never been one to judge others' beliefs, especially after all these years as Batman. He may not have a god, but he's fought alongside some and taken down a few himself. Really, he would have left them alone if they weren't kidnapping people and murdering them.

That was a big no-no.

"My children," The leader of the cult, The Children of the Realms, shouts voice somehow carrying over the bang bang bang of the drums, foot stops of the cults, and the sing-like chanting of the other cultists.

They weren't wearing robes, which was a nice change of cult, but instead dressed in suits and gala-like dresses. Their skins were painted blue for the men and green for the women, with some slight white highlights.

Bruce noted that the Cult leader was the only one not in a black suit but rather a white one. This might be the color of rank, seeing as there were a few women with a slit on their dresses that had white fabric edges and a few men with a white tie. The others were dressed black on black.

Bruce might have mistaken them for the court of owls, but their faces were visible, done up like the group was going out for a night of classy fun instead of camping out in a broken-down warehouse.

"We have captured the fools who claim themselves protectors." He gestures to Bruce and his kids, each staring back with an impassive expression, sharpening the loathing on the man's face. "Their actions drove away our king, but tonight, we finally bring down the heathens! Tonight! We call upon the True King of the Dead and offer him the fools who took his title!"

He left his arms, grinning madly at the crowd. "Tonight, we enter his kingdom, the worthy few! We, my children, will be allowed eternal life within the realms! While we rejoice in the wonders of the Realms, all the sinners will perish for their inability to provide the King with sacrifices to hunt properly! They will die and vanish while we move on to bigger and greater things!" He drops his arms just as the drums and the chant stop. There is a heavy silence before the cultists start cheering.

They embrace each other, smiling, laughing, and crying like they were all just saved—like a devastating war that tore their homes apart has just ended, and they are on the winning side.

The man didn't just yell; they would sacrifice people to their mysterious god for a hunt, not for food or to appease him but for the King's entertainment.

"Now, my children," the cult leader beams after everyone finishes congratulating each other. "Offer your blood as protection, and call forth the King!"

Around the circle, the cultists pull out various knives. Most look like switchblades, but none hesitate to slash their palms and slam them down to smear the blond along the drawn chalk lines.

Bruce's facial expression doesn't so much as twitch, but he's reeling back on the inside as the chalk glows a dangerously dark color. There is a few cracking sounds as green lighting zaps out of the circle and a loud woosh as a portal is ripped open.

A strong wind picks up, blowing everyone's clothes and causing a few to blink and close to their eyes

"Get into position!" the leader commands over the roar of the wind. He rushes behind him to climb into a coffin that Bruce had not noticed earlier.

It's white with silky, soft green plush inside. The Leader lies in a comfortable position, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. The rest rush to the side of the room, where more coffins await them, climbing in with child-like excitement.

None seem to care that theirs are all wooden coffins with nothing of the dazzle or comfort the Leader does. At least they are painted black, even if it only further highlights the quality difference.

It hits Bruce: The reason they are dressed this way is that they are dressed for their funerals. None of them were expecting to get out of this alive, and that's what they were all hopeful for.

"Shit," Duke swears lowly next to Bruce. He starts thrashing around, no longer caring if the cultist notices his attempts to break out of the chains of light. "The shadows are surrounding us. It's going to pull us in!"

Bruce doesn't see anything, but if his son claims it, he has no choice but to thrash around. His other children attempt to do the same. He barely manages to get his feet under him in an attempt to leap when he feels something grab at his ankles and pull.

Drag by an invisible force towards the circle's center, Bruce still attempts to kick his feet. The concrete burns against his cheek and rips his chin a little, and his children let out grunts and startled yelps when they, too, are taken by their legs and dragged right beside Bruce.

They wind up right under the portal, the more minor burst of electricity zipping along his skin like a soft shock one would get from the doorknob after rubbing one's feet against the carpet. He refuses to bow, even if a few cause a flinch or two because right above him, the portal finishes forming.

The wind stops, and the electricity shuts off. There is no sound in the room; everything is still as the vigilantes hold their breath, waiting to see what will happen. Duke is still working on the light chains, sweat pouring down the side of his face.

Sudden smoke fills the room as rays of colorful light beam from the portal. A guitar riff is heard, quickly followed by a set of drums in a rhythm oddly familiar to Bruce.

He raises a brow, confused as the smoke clears to find a teenager dressed like a famous singer his parents used to adore, standing in front of a mic, eyes closed and singing.

Singing and dancing in a perfect imitation of the King. And by that, Bruce does not mean the King of the Dead but Elvis the King.

The boy was signing Burning Love, moving to the music and dancing in place, seemingly unaware he was being moved. Behind him, the portal created an entire stage, complete with modern lights and amps that let him know there was no way this was the man from the fifties.

The portal vanishes once it finishes recreating the lights and hanging on top of the poles that the spotlight hands from a banner read "Casper High Talent Show".

Oh no. Did the cultists kidnap a child by accident? Magic was always a bitch when it came to selection of words.

He finishes his set, letting the last few a hunk, a hunk of burning love, be overshadowed by his rather impressive electric guitar solo. He lets out a breath, then slowly opens his eyes.

A sparkling blue that can not be human peaks out at Bruce as the boy says, "Thank you, everyone, for listening- WHERE AM I!?"

"Do you take requests?" Dick yells back, smiling his disarming grin meant to calm down civilians. "Can you play Hound Dog?"

[whatdoyouwanttocallmefor]

Their reaction when their s/o suprise them at their concert (Hyung Line)

This is the Hyung Line version. The Maknae Line will be in the next post so stay tuned!!

WARNING: NONE!

---

🐺 Bang Chan

The energy in the stadium was electrifying, the deafening cheers of thousands of fans blending with the music. Bang Chan was in his element, commanding the stage with ease. Sweat dripped down his temples, but the exhaustion was pushed aside by the sheer adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Then, as he glanced over the crowd, his breath hitched.

Right there, standing amongst the sea of Stays, was you.

His lips parted slightly in shock, and for a moment, he forgot what he was doing. The music continued, the members carried on, but his focus was locked onto you. His fingers curled around the mic tighter as if grounding himself, trying to process that you were really there.

A slow smile spread across his face, not just any smile, but the kind that reached his eyes, the kind he saved only for you.

Throughout the concert, he kept sneaking glances at you, throwing in little gestures just for you. A playful wink, a small wave, even a teasing eyebrow raise when he knew you were watching him closely. Fans caught on quickly, their screams growing louder every time he looked your way.

As soon as the final song ended, Chan was the first to rush backstage. His heart was hammering against his ribs, but the second he spotted you waiting for him, all the exhaustion melted away.

“You… you really came,” he breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could even reply, he pulled you into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping securely around your waist. His face found the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, holding you tighter, as if afraid you’d disappear.

You smiled, stroking his back. “Surprise.”

Chan chuckled against your shoulder, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “Best surprise ever.” Then, with a cheeky grin, he added, “But you owe me cuddles for making me almost forget my lyrics.”

---

🐇 Lee Know

Minho was focused, his every move precise as he danced flawlessly in sync with the beat. His gaze remained sharp, professional, until it landed on you.

For a split second, his smirk faltered, his steps almost stuttering. His body caught up quickly, but his mind struggled.

You were here.

A slow, knowing smirk stretched across his lips as he continued dancing, pretending like he wasn’t affected, but you knew him better than that. His eyes held something softer, something warmer.

He made sure to keep looking your way throughout the concert, as if silently saying I see you. At one point, when he passed by your side of the stage, he subtly mouthed, “Took you long enough.”

Fans screamed at the interaction, catching the way his usually serious stage persona had shifted just a little, revealing a more playful, lovestruck side of him.

When the concert ended, you barely had time to react before Minho was pulling you into a secluded corner backstage. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable.

“So, you thought you could just show up and not tell me?” His voice was calm, but you could hear the teasing edge.

You grinned. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Minho scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, congratulations. You succeeded.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his hands gently cupping your face. His eyes searched yours, his usual teasing demeanor melting into something more tender.

“I missed you,” he admitted in a rare moment of vulnerability.

Your heart swelled as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. “I missed you too.”

Minho smirked, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Good. Now, don’t think you’re getting away without giving me all your attention for the rest of the night.”

---

🐷🐰 Changbin

Changbin was already in his zone, feeding off the energy of the crowd, his raps powerful and full of intensity. The bass vibrated through the stadium, fueling his adrenaline.

Then, in the middle of hyping up the audience, his eyes landed on you.

His brain short-circuited.

For a split second, he forgot what he was supposed to do. His breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat as he tried to process the fact that you were actually there.

A wide grin broke across his face, his smiles deepening as he pointed directly at you during his verse. Fans went wild at the sudden interaction, screaming even louder when he threw a playful wink your way.

Throughout the concert, his energy was even more intense, his jumps higher, his gestures more animated, his smiles brighter. Every now and then, he’d sneak another glance at you, shaking his head in disbelief but looking absolutely smitten.

The moment the concert ended, he wasted no time sprinting off stage. He barely had time to catch his breath before he found you.

“Y/N!” His voice was breathless, but full of excitement. He didn’t hesitate, his arms wrapped around you instantly, lifting you clean off the ground as he spun you around.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, setting you down but keeping his arms firmly around you.

You laughed, cupping his face. “I take it you liked the surprise?”

He grinned. “Like it? I love it.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Now, get ready for the best post-concert date ever. You owe me for making my heart race like that.”

---

🦦 Hyunjin

Hyunjin was lost in the music, his movements fluid as he poured every ounce of emotion into his performance. But then, he saw you.

He froze.

It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. His lips parted, his breath caught in his throat, and his usually sharp choreography faltered just slightly before he quickly recovered.

His hand flew to his mouth as if trying to stifle a reaction, but the redness creeping up his neck betrayed him. He turned away for a moment, his hand resting on his chest as he tried to regain his composure.

Fans noticed immediately. The camera caught his stunned expression, and the crowd erupted into screams. Hyunjin, still visibly flustered, peeked back at you, his eyes wide with disbelief.

As the concert continued, he couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. Every time he danced past your side, he’d bite his lip, shake his head, or flash a shy but affectionate smile. At one point, he even mouthed “You’re unbelievable.”

When the show finally ended, Hyunjin practically sprinted backstage. The moment he found you, he didn’t hesitate, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands clutching the fabric of your clothes like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly.

You smiled against his shoulder. “I wanted to see your reaction.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes still filled with disbelief. “I could cry right now.”

You chuckled, brushing his damp hair away from his face. “Don’t cry. You were amazing.”

Hyunjin sniffed dramatically before breaking into a soft laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” His lips brushed against your temple. “But I love you for it.”

---

How's the reaction? I hope it's not that awkward. Please do go to my list if you intersted in reading my humble creations ✨️ Niweys, to the maknae line!

[bangchangbinnie]

The Door That Shouldn’t Have Closed c.b

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Chan’s anger drives y/n out into the cold

(I love writing angst and worn out plots YIPPEEE)

The apartment was warm with the scent of home—his home, which over time had become their home. The overhead light cast a soft glow on the wooden floors, reflecting against the large window that framed the city skyline in the distance. The gentle hum of the heater filled the quiet air, a comfort against the cold that lingered outside.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, her laptop open in front of her as she absentmindedly sipped on a cup of tea. The ceramic mug was warm in her hands, the steam curling into the air as she scrolled through pages of job listings. Living in Korea had been a whirlwind, a mix of excitement and challenges, but with Chan beside her, it felt worth it. He had reassured her time and time again that she didn’t have to worry, that she didn’t need to rush into finding work, but she wanted to—needed to. She wanted to feel like she belonged, like she wasn’t just lingering in his world without purpose.

Her gaze flickered over to the sleek black laptop resting on the edge of the coffee table, its screen glowing with an unfinished project. Chan had been working tirelessly on a track, pouring every ounce of his energy into fine-tuning the smallest details. It was his everything—the beating heart of his career, of his passion, of him. She knew how much it meant to him.

Maybe that’s why, when she reached for her phone and accidentally nudged the edge of the coffee table, her heart stopped as the laptop teetered, wobbled, and in the slowest, most horrifying second of her life—

—crashed to the floor.

The impact was deafening in the silence. The sharp crack of metal and plastic colliding against hardwood rang in her ears, freezing her in place. Her breath hitched as she scrambled forward, hands trembling as she turned the device over. The screen was black, unresponsive, the keyboard slightly misaligned from the fall. Her stomach twisted into a sickening knot.

No, no, no, no—

“Y/N?”

His voice came from the hallway, muffled but laced with exhaustion. Heavy footsteps echoed as he approached, and before she could even attempt to explain, he was there—standing in the doorway, his tired eyes locking onto the sight before him.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, in an instant, the exhaustion in his face was replaced by something else entirely. His features hardened, lips parting as if trying to process what he was seeing.

“What—” His voice caught, eyes flicking between her and the laptop. “What the hell did you do?”

“I—I didn’t mean to,” she stammered, panic lacing her words as she held the laptop up like an offering. “It was an accident, I swear! I barely touched the table, and it—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice rose, sharp and cutting. He stormed forward, snatching the laptop from her hands. His fingers ghosted over the edges, flipping it open, pressing the power button over and over again. Nothing. “Do you have any idea how much was on here?”

“I know, I—”

“No, you don’t know.” His words came fast, heated, filled with frustration. “That was weeks—months of work! Gone. Just like that.” His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the broken laptop as if willing it to come back to life. His breaths were ragged, uneven, his head shaking as he let out a bitter laugh. “God, Y/N, do you even think before you do things?”

The words hit like a slap. She flinched, hands curling into fists in her lap. “I said I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, voice small, fragile. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this!” His voice cracked, raw and unrestrained. “You don’t get it, do you? Fuck! This isn’t just some random thing you broke—this was everything I’ve been working on. Every file, every project, every unfinished song—it’s all gone now because you couldn’t be careful.”

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She knew he was upset, knew that this was important to him, but the way he was speaking to her—like she was careless, like she didn’t care—it stung in ways she couldn’t describe.

She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “I’ll help you fix it,” she tried, reaching out. “There are data recovery places, we can—”

“Just stop.” His tone was sharp enough to cut. “Just… stop.” He ran a hand through his curls, his shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, something dark and stormy. Then, before she could say anything else, he did something she never expected.

“Get out.”

The words were low, clipped, but they sent dread washing over her.

She blinked. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” His gaze was unwavering, lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t deal with this right now. Just… go.”

The air in the room turned suffocating.

Go.

Leave.

He was kicking her out.

Her chest tightened, heart hammering against her ribs as she slowly stood. “Chan… I—I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

For a split second, something flickered in his expression—regret, hesitation—but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

“I don’t care.”

The words settled like lead in her stomach. Her hands trembled as she grabbed her coat, slipping it on with numb fingers. The apartment that once felt like a sanctuary now felt cold, foreign, unwelcoming. She didn’t beg, didn’t plead—if this was what he wanted, then she wouldn’t fight.

She turned towards the door, fingers hesitating on the handle. One last time, she glanced over her shoulder. He was standing there, back to her, running a hand through his hair as he stared blankly at the broken laptop on the table.

She bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Then, she stepped out into the night.

The cold hit her instantly, biting through her thin coat as she wrapped her arms around herself. The streets were quiet, the distant hum of traffic the only sound accompanying her as she stood there, frozen, unsure of where to go.

She had nowhere. Nowhere but him, and now… not even that.

The apartment was eerily silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock hanging above the kitchen. Each second that passed felt like a taunt, like it was counting down to something he didn’t quite understand but could feel settling into the pit of his stomach like a weight.

Chan sat hunched over on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, fingers tangled in his curls. The broken laptop sat on the coffee table in front of him, its cracked frame a haunting reminder of everything that had transpired just hours ago. His jaw was tight, his breath shallow as his mind replayed the argument on an endless loop.

The way her voice had wavered. The way her hands had trembled. The way she had looked at him—like he had gutted her.

And then she was gone.

At first, he had told himself he didn’t care. That he needed the space. That she needed to understand how much she had screwed up. The frustration had still been burning too hot in his veins for him to feel anything else.

But now?

Now, the embers had long since cooled, leaving only the empty ache of realization.

It had been hours.

And she still hadn’t come back.

His knee bounced anxiously as he pulled out his phone, unlocking it with swift fingers. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably. Where the hell was she? She had said it herself—she had nowhere else to go.

His mind reeled with possibilities, none of them good. Was she wandering around aimlessly? Sitting on some freezing bench in the middle of the city? God, what if something happened to her? Korea wasn’t dangerous, but that didn’t mean she was safe. She wasn’t fluent in the language, she didn’t have family here—hell, she barely had friends. She had him.

And he had thrown her out.

A sharp breath shuddered from his lips as he ran a hand over his face. His body was buzzing with nerves now, his earlier anger replaced by something far worse—guilt.

How could he have been so stupid?

Yeah, she had broken his laptop. Yeah, it hurt knowing all that work was lost. But was it really worth the way he had spoken to her? The way he had made her feel so disposable, so unwanted?

His chest tightened as he remembered the way she had looked at him when she had whispered those last words—I’m sorry.

He had told her he didn’t care, but that was a lie.

He cared too much.

And now he had no idea where she was.

Chan shot up from the couch, grabbing his coat and shoving his feet into his sneakers with hurried, frantic movements. He didn’t bother turning off the lights or locking the door—none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was finding her.

The second he stepped outside, the cold slammed into him like a brick wall. The temperature had dropped significantly since earlier, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, merciless and unrelenting.

She wasn’t prepared for this.

Panic clawed at his throat as he moved down the dimly lit streets, scanning every alleyway, every bench, every corner. Where the hell was she?

He pulled out his phone, dialing her number with shaking fingers. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

Voicemail.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, shoving the phone back into his pocket. His heart pounded wildly, each beat a deafening reminder of how badly he had messed up.

Then, just as he was about to turn another corner, he saw it—

A small figure curled up on a bench just beneath a flickering streetlamp, her head tucked against her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

His breath caught in his throat.

Y/N.

He rushed forward, kneeling down in front of her, his hands hovering over her shaking form. She was trembling violently, her coat barely doing anything to shield her from the brutal cold. Strands of hair stuck to her damp cheeks—had she been crying?

Guilt slammed into him like a freight train.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice tight. She flinched, her shoulders tensing at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t look up.

Chan’s heart cracked wide open.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, finally reaching out to touch her, his hands carefully settling on her arms. She was freezing. Ice-cold. His stomach churned. “Baby, what are you doing out here? Why didn’t you go somewhere warmer?”

A bitter, shaky laugh slipped from her lips, muffled against her knees. “Where?” she croaked, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You told me to leave, remember?”

Chan felt physically sick.

“Y/N, I—” He swallowed, his throat tightening. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry, I—I wasn’t thinking. But I never wanted this. I never wanted you out here like this.” His voice broke, raw with regret.

She sniffled, finally lifting her head just enough for him to see her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy from the cold and her tears. The sight of her like this—because of him—made his chest constrict painfully.

“You didn’t stop me,” she whispered. “You just let me go.” Chan’s breath hitched. There was no excuse for that. None.

He exhaled sharply, his hands gently cupping her face, thumbs brushing away the stray tears still clinging to her skin. His fingers were warm—too warm against her freezing face.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking under the weight of his guilt. “I was an idiot. I was cruel. I should’ve never let you leave, I should’ve never—” His voice cracked, his forehead pressing against hers as his hands cradled her gently. “Please, baby, please come home.”

Y/N swallowed, her lips quivering. “Are you still mad?”

Chan shook his head instantly. “No. God, no. The only thing I’m mad at is myself.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own gaze brimming with emotion. “I don’t care about the laptop. I don’t care about the files. I care about you. And I swear, I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”

A shaky breath escaped her lips. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, just stared at him with that same exhausted, heartbroken expression that made his insides twist painfully.

Then, finally, her body slumped against his, her face burying into his chest.

Chan let out a breath of pure relief, his arms wrapping around her tightly, securely, as if he was trying to shield her from the cold, from the night, from everything.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into her hair, pressing desperate, lingering kisses against her temple. “I love you, I love you, I love you—please don’t ever think for a second that I don’t.”

Her fingers clutched onto his coat weakly, and after a long pause, she whispered, “Take me home.”

Chan swallowed past the lump in his throat, standing and pulling her up with him, his arms never leaving her as he guided her back toward the place she should have never had to leave in the first place.

And as they stepped into the warm embrace of their apartment, Chan vowed to himself—

He would never let his anger cost him her again.

[xo100]

hii i have this idea. yn and lando dont know each other yet. yn is driving back from work crashes into lando and his mclaren (small accident nothing big) and lando is mad until he sees her and love at first sight haha and offers to help her with insurance and tries to get her number and shes just confused and doesnt know who he is.

Thank youu in advance.

A Minor Collision, A Major Connection - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2796

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The Friday afternoon sky was draped in golden hues as Y/N tiredly made her way back home after a long, grueling day at work. The office had been a madhouse—endless meetings, deadlines creeping up, and not enough coffee to power through it all. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of collapsing onto her couch and losing herself in a Netflix binge.

Her car, a reliable little sedan, buzzed softly as she cruised down the quiet city streets. She sighed, tuning out the low hum of traffic around her. It was just another day, nothing special. That is, until—

BANG!

Y/N’s heart lurched as her car jerked to the side. She slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her mind raced through what just happened. Did she hit something? Or worse… someone?

Her pulse spiked as she fumbled to unbuckle her seatbelt and threw open the door. But when she stepped out to inspect the damage, the first thing she saw wasn’t a crumpled bumper or a mangled fender. No, it was a sleek, dark blue sports car, glossy and absurdly out of place against the backdrop of regular vehicles. Her little sedan had smacked into the rear of it.

“Great,” she muttered, pushing a hand through her hair. Her car had bumped into what was probably one of the most expensive cars in the city, if not the country.

And standing beside it, inspecting the minor damage with a furrowed brow and an expression that was a blend of frustration and disbelief, was none other than Lando Norris. Though Y/N had no clue who he was. To her, he was just some annoyed guy standing next to his ruined car.

“What were you even doing?!” the man exclaimed, turning towards her with his arms outstretched in exasperation. His voice held a British lilt, his tone more incredulous than angry.

Y/N froze. “I—I didn’t see you! You came out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” he echoed, shaking his head as he knelt to inspect his McLaren’s bumper. There was a tiny dent, barely noticeable, but to him, it was as if the whole car had been wrecked. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself.

Y/N bit her lip, anxiety creeping up her spine. Her mind was a mess—how much was this going to cost her? Could insurance even cover damages on a car that expensive? This whole situation was unreal.

But then something strange happened.

The man, still crouched by the car, lifted his head to look at her properly for the first time. His eyes met hers, and his expression softened. He blinked, standing slowly as if he was trying to process something. His initial frustration seemed to melt away, replaced by a bemused sort of interest.

“Uh… Are you okay?” he asked, his tone much gentler now, his earlier irritation completely gone.

Y/N blinked. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad at her? She had just hit his expensive car, after all. Why was he suddenly acting so… concerned?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m just… sorry about your car.”

Lando, however, waved her apology away like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about the car. It’s really not that bad.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “Really? Because it looks like I did a number on it.”

He glanced back at the car, then at her, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, well, it’s just a car. What matters is that you’re alright.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. This guy was acting way too nice for someone whose luxury car had just been rear-ended. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about his sudden shift in mood.

“Okay…” she trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. “But still, we should probably exchange insurance info. I don’t know how much this is going to cost to fix.”

Lando’s expression brightened at the mention of exchanging information, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, insurance,” he replied, reaching for his phone, “but honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I can handle it on my own. Maybe we can just forget about it? I could… help you out.”

Y/N’s confusion deepened. Help her out? Wasn’t it her fault in the first place? Why was he acting like this was no big deal? And why was he looking at her like that, like he was trying to keep her there longer than necessary?

Lando shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t mean to sound weird, but… do you, uh, live around here?”

“Why?” Y/N asked cautiously, narrowing her eyes at him.

Lando chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. He suddenly felt like a nervous schoolboy, which was ridiculous because he was Lando Norris, F1 driver and world-class athlete, yet here he was fumbling over his words.

“Well, I just thought maybe we could grab a coffee or something. You know, after we sort all this out.”

Y/N blinked at him, utterly bewildered. “Wait. You want to get coffee? With me? After I just hit your car?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. Why not? Accidents happen. And… I guess I think you’re kind of cute.”

Her eyes widened. Was this guy for real? She’d just crashed into his sports car and now he was trying to flirt with her?

“Uh… I don’t even know your name,” she said slowly, still trying to wrap her head around the situation.

He grinned, sticking out his hand. “I’m Lando. Lando Norris.”

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it hesitantly. “Y/N. And, um… nice to meet you?”

Lando’s smile widened, his earlier frustration completely forgotten as he focused entirely on her. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N. So, about that coffee…”

“I’m sorry, are you seriously asking me out right now?” she asked, a slight laugh escaping her lips. “After I hit your car?”

Lando shrugged again, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a pretty forgiving guy.”

Y/N shook her head, still half-expecting this whole thing to be some sort of bizarre dream. “Okay, but… you didn’t even get my insurance information yet. Isn’t that why we’re still standing here?”

Lando waved a dismissive hand. “Like I said, it’s really no big deal. I’ll take care of it. Just… let me get your number, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Now she was really suspicious. “My number?”

He grinned sheepishly. “For the insurance, of course.”

Y/N stared at him, trying to figure out if he was messing with her or if he was actually being serious. She wasn’t sure what was stranger—the fact that he was acting like the accident was nothing or the fact that he seemed more interested in getting her number than fixing his expensive car.

But there was something about him, something oddly charming, even though the whole situation was insane. Maybe it was his easygoing nature or the way he didn’t seem to care about the damage at all. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at her, like she was the most interesting person he’d met all day.

With a sigh, she reached for her phone. “Fine. But I’m giving you my number strictly for insurance purposes.”

Lando’s grin grew wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Strictly insurance purposes. Got it.”

As she handed him her number, Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. What had started as a minor accident was quickly turning into the weirdest encounter of her life.

“Alright,” she said, putting her phone away, “I’ve gotta go. But, um, thanks for not being too mad about the car.”

Lando chuckled, leaning casually against his McLaren. “Like I said, it’s just a car. But you… well, you’re worth more than any car.”

Y/N stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or be weirded out by the line. “Uh, okay. Well… take care.”

As she got back into her car, Lando watched her with a grin still on his face. Maybe the accident wasn’t so bad after all. After all, he’d managed to meet someone who had caught his attention in a way no one else had.

And as Y/N drove away, still shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she couldn’t help but wonder just what she’d gotten herself into.

-

The weekend had finally arrived, and despite the awkward car crash, Y/N had managed to put it out of her mind. She wasn’t expecting to hear from Lando again. After all, rich guys like him probably had people to take care of things like insurance claims. She figured she’d given him her number for nothing more than a courtesy exchange.

That was, until her phone buzzed the next morning.

She glanced at the screen, eyebrows shooting up at the unknown number. Hesitating for a second, she finally opened the message.

Lando: Hey, it’s Lando. The guy whose car you hit? Not sure if you remember me, but I’ve got some paperwork for insurance and stuff. Thought we could meet up and go over it?

Y/N rolled her eyes, half-amused. It was still weird to her that someone so nonchalant about the accident was bothering to text her. She tapped out a quick response.

Y/N: Yeah, I remember. Where and when?

He replied almost immediately.

Lando: How about that coffee I mentioned? There’s a café in the city, small, chill. We can talk there?

Coffee again? He really wasn’t subtle. Y/N bit her lip, debating. She didn’t have anything to do that afternoon anyway, and she supposed she owed him at least a meeting about the insurance.

So, reluctantly, she agreed.

-

The café Lando had suggested was tucked away on a quiet street corner, its large windows letting in the warm afternoon sun. Y/N pushed open the door, immediately greeted by the rich scent of roasted coffee beans. She scanned the room, expecting Lando to be hidden away somewhere.

Instead, she saw him immediately.

Sitting casually at a table near the window, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he waved when he saw her. His face lit up with a boyish grin that made him seem far less intimidating than the guy she’d crashed into just days before.

“Hey,” he greeted as she approached, standing to pull out a chair for her. “You made it.”

“Yeah, well, I figured we should get this insurance stuff sorted,” she replied, sitting down. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on her just a bit longer than necessary.

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, the insurance thing…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “You did bring the paperwork, right? That’s why we’re here?”

He looked slightly sheepish, then reached into his bag and pulled out a few documents. “Of course. Got everything right here.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. “Okay, good. Let’s get it over with.”

Lando handed her the papers, but as she scanned them, he leaned back in his chair, watching her with an amused expression. He wasn’t saying anything, but Y/N could practically feel his eyes on her.

Finally, she looked up. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just… you’re very focused. Kind of cute.”

Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? This is the second time you’ve done that.”

Lando shrugged, his grin widening. “Can’t help it. You kind of walked into my life by crashing into my car. Feels like fate, doesn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Or just bad driving.”

“Or that,” he agreed with a laugh.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his easygoing attitude. There was something about him that made it hard to stay annoyed. He had this infectious charm, the kind that made you forget about everything else. She didn’t know much about him, other than his name and the fact that he clearly had a lot of money, but there was something undeniably likable about him.

Still, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“So, Lando,” she began, setting the papers down, “what exactly do you do? Because you’ve got a really fancy car, and you act like a guy who’s used to getting what he wants.”

His grin didn’t falter. “You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “No clue. Should I?”

Lando leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Well, I’m a Formula 1 driver. Kind of a big deal in motorsport.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then she blinked, completely unfazed. “Okay, so… you’re like a racecar driver?”

He laughed at how nonchalantly she said it. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Huh.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “That explains the car.”

“Explains a lot of things,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “Still, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Most people know who I am,” he admitted. “It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t immediately treat me like I’m… you know, famous.”

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t follow racing,” she said with a small smile. “I’m just trying to figure out why a guy like you is wasting time flirting with a girl who wrecked his car.”

Lando leaned forward, his playful expression softening slightly. “Because maybe I like that girl who wrecked my car.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sudden sincerity in his tone. She wasn’t sure what to make of this whole situation. The flirty banter was one thing, but now it felt like there was something more behind his words. Something genuine.

“I don’t get it,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “We’ve barely talked. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Lando replied, his gaze locking with hers. “And I want to get to know more.”

Y/N swallowed, feeling a strange mix of nerves and curiosity. This wasn’t what she’d expected when she agreed to meet him. She thought it would be a quick, awkward conversation about insurance, not… this.

“Lando, I don’t even know if I want to date someone right now,” she admitted, unsure of what else to say.

He nodded, his expression serious. “That’s fair. I’m not asking for anything big. Just… let me take you out sometime. No pressure. If you don’t like it, we’ll call it even, and you never have to see me again.”

Y/N hesitated, searching his face for any sign that he was messing with her. But all she saw was sincerity. He wasn’t being pushy or demanding, just… hopeful.

After a long pause, she finally sighed. “Fine. One date. But if you turn out to be some crazy celebrity playboy, I’m out.”

Lando’s grin returned, brighter than ever. “Deal.”

-

A week later, Y/N found herself walking into a small, intimate restaurant Lando had chosen for their first date. She was nervous, still unsure about the whole thing, but when she saw him waiting at the entrance with that same goofy grin, her nerves eased a little.

The night went better than she could’ve imagined. Lando wasn’t just some cocky racecar driver—he was funny, down-to-earth, and surprisingly sweet. He asked about her job, her hobbies, her favorite books, and genuinely seemed interested in everything she said. By the end of the night, Y/N realized she was actually having fun.

As they left the restaurant, Lando walked her to her car, the same little sedan that had started this whole mess. He turned to her, hands in his pockets, a slightly shy smile on his face.

“So,” he began, “how was it? Am I still in your good books, or are you planning to never see me again?”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “You’re still in the good books.”

“Good to know,” Lando replied, relief evident in his voice. “I guess that means I can ask for another date?”

Y/N bit her lip, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

Lando’s grin was contagious, and before Y/N knew it, she was smiling too.

And just like that, a minor collision had turned into something unexpected. Something more.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[lnfours]

sensual | l.n

summary: sharing a wall with your roommate has become.. intriguing, to say the least.

warnings: roommate!best friend!lando x fem!reader, smut (18+ pls), unprotected sex (pls wrap it before u tap it), this is basically just filth with fluff and a bit of angst if you squint.

masterlist | inbox | listen to the playlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you were sitting up in bed, typing away at the research paper that was due over the weekend. an earbud in one ear as you tried to focus. tried to lock into this paper that had taken most of your brain power for the day.

you managed to tune just about everything out, humming softly to the song as you typed. but something pulled you from your trance as your fingers froze over the keys of your laptop. you had thought you were hearing things, tugging and earbud to make sure it was just your imagination before it happened again.

a soft moan coming from the other side of the wall. you were frozen in your spot, now hearing his heavy breathing as everything else fell silent. you felt your heart jump into your throat and a course of heat spread through your body. you should’ve just shoved your earbuds back in and pretended you never heard anything, went back on with your paper.

another moan, this time followed by a soft, “fuck,”

you were completely frozen now, cheeks heating at the fact that you were fully listening in on your best friend get off. you leaned your head back against your headboard, closing the lid of your laptop and the sound of his pants pulling you into the void.

but what really did it was the next, higher pitched moan that he was clearly trying to hold back, followed by a quick, “fuck, y/n, baby,”

that’s when you lost it. your eyes bugging out of your head as you listened. he had just said your name, thinking about you as he got himself off. your best friend, the person who knew you better than anyone else.

it made you wonder what he was picturing you doing to him, biting down on your lip as you finally caved. you tugged down the waistband of your pajama shorts, your hand finding the warm wetness of your pussy. you let out a silent moan, mouth agape as your fingers found your clit.

your back arched slightly when you heard him moan again, “shit, so close,”

you were quickly chasing your own release, cheeks still hot as you heard the wetness of yourself against your fingers. your mind raced, thinking about what he could be doing to you. thinking about how he’d have his way with you, your mouth full of him or his pretty face as you rode him. mind bouncing between different scenarios.

“y/n, fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,”

you whispered a soft string of curses, your body shaking as you gave yourself an orgasm. his moan dragged out this time, letting you know he had finally reached his. you caught your breath, thinking about what you both had just done. what it could mean for your friendship.

a few weeks later…

lando was scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, laughing softly to the video that had come across his timeline. he heard your door close and a giggle come from you before your headboard softly banged against the wall. he furrowed his eyebrows, listening to you talk until he was caught off guard by the male voice coming from your room.

he tried not to listen, blocking it out until he heard your giggle that had turned into a soft moan. he licked his lips, turning his tv on. there was no way he was about to listen to his best friend get laid. even if she was the one he thought about when he touched himself, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

until you moaned a little louder, almost sounding like it was straight from a porno. that’s what made his sweatpants grow tighter, listening to the suppressed sound of skin slapping together. the way your moans had become slightly muffled, his mind thinking about your face in the pillows, ass up in the air.

he was done for now, hand palming at his painfully hard dick. until the next moan you let out sounded fake, followed by the guy’s soft grunt.

and that was that. there was no more noise other than the soft voices making some slight small talk. he furrowed his eyebrows, there was no way. it hadn’t even been five minutes.

he heard your bedroom door open and soft shuffling outside his door as you ushered the guy out of your apartment. he got up, opening his bedroom door and leaning against the door frame as he watched you close the apartment door, clad in your fluffy robe.

you turned around, jumping at the sight as you held the robe closer to you, “fucks sake!”

your whisper yelling made him chuckle softly, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

he looked good, the dim from his room lighting casting shadows all around him. the way his arms were crossed as he leaned against the wooden door frame, how his biceps looked in that stupid black tshirt. the grey sweatpants. all of it.

you shook your head, taking in a soft breath, “‘s alright, didn’t know you were awake.”

“yeah, can’t sleep,” he said, “who was the guy?”

you swallowed thickly, “it was jake, the guy i told you about the other day.”

you had met jake at the bar last weekend. you had agreed to go home with him, needing a distraction from the man you shared a wall with. it was a decent fuck, actually a less than decent fuck. he was bad in bed, multiple times leaving after he had finished just to leave you get yourself off with your hands once he was gone.

you brushed a piece of hair behind your hair as your best friend stared back at you, “the bloke can’t even last ten minutes?”

his boldness shocked you, pushing it aside as you licked your lips, staying silent. he leaned off the doorway, making a step closer to you, “did he at least… get you off?”

you looked down at the floor and he sighed softly. your silence was his answer. an answer he didn’t really want to hear, but he was expecting nonetheless.

“what a joke,” he scoffed, “seriously.”

you shrugged, “it’s alright-“

“no,” he said, “because if you were mine, i’d happily spend hours between your thighs or with my fingers inside you. the fact that he can’t even spend a second doing that is absolutely ridiculous.”

you met his eyes, realizing how close the two of you had gotten in the short amount of time as you craned your neck to meet his gaze, “‘if you were mine’?”

he looked back down at you, “yeah,” he breathed softly, minty breath fanning your face, “if you were mine.”

you swallowed thickly, “what does it take? to be yours?”

he reached out to you, grabbing your chin, “you always have been,” his eyes flickering between yours and your lips, the lips he’s been craving to kiss, “it’s always been you.”

a wave of silence rushed over the two of you before you softly spoke, “lan?”

he hummed back, “hmm?”

“kiss me,” you said, “please.”

he couldn’t say no, how could he when you’re looking at him like that? pupils dilated and eyes locked on his. so he did, cupping your face into his hand as his lips met yours. he didn’t waste any time, slipping his tongue past your lips as your arms wrapped around his neck. his pressed against your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

he backed up towards his room, bringing you with him. he pushed the door closed, your back up against the wooden door as he pinned you there, lips hot on your neck as he kissed at your pulse point, dragging his teeth over the skin of your collarbone.

“fuck,” you whimpered softly, all the pent up emotions spilling over as his curls tickled your face, “i guess i should tell you i heard you,”

you weren’t sure why you had chosen now of all times to come clean, but his head picked up, “heard me?”

you nodded, “a few weeks ago, i heard you getting off through the wall,” you watched as his face dared to turn red, “and i got off to it,”

he let out a soft moan, “you got off to me getting off?”

you nodded, “yeah,”

“fuck,” he mumbled against the skin of your exposed chest, “that’s so fucking hot.”

you let out a moan when his hand pushed the fabric of the robe aside, his hands finding your nipples and twisting them between the pads of his fingers. your back arched into his chest.

“lando,” you moaned and he let out a soft curse, “fuck, please,”

“don’t worry, ‘ve got you,” he said against your neck, reaching for the tie around your waist, “i got you, pretty girl.”

you let him slip the robe off you, his hands picking you up as the fell to your ass, holding you against his torso as he carried you to the bed. he plopped you against the pillows gently, climbing up between your legs as your hands moved to strip him of the black shirt. he happily let you tug it over his head, his head dipping back to your chest. his mouth took in one nipple as his hand tweaked the other, letting you moan like that before he switched it around.

your hands in his curls felt like a dream, nails softly scratching as his scalp, “fuck, been thinking about this for so long.”

you watched him hook your thighs over his shoulders, settling down at your dripping pussy. you let out a moan when he took a finger down your slit, groaning at how wet you were already for him. you found your hands in his hair again, his lips peppering kisses among the inside of your thighs.

“you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, “it’s a wonder no one wants to see you squirm under them.”

you breathed heavily, “is that what you were thinking about? when you moaned my name the other day?”

he looked back up at you, “baby, i think about you and i doing all sorts of things.”

you licked your lips, “like?”

“like,” he said, pressing a kiss to your core. you let out a moan, covering your mouth as he spread your legs wider to give him total access to where you needed him most, “like how i’m gonna eat you out til you’re begging me to stop.”

you rolled your eyes back at his words, gasping as his tongue met your clit. you threw your head back in total bliss as he sucked and lapped at you, his hand moving up your body to play with your nipples. you were a withering mess before him, letting out another moan when he pushed a finger into you.

“yeah?” he asked, adding another in, “like that?”

you nodded, “mhm,”

“you tell me when it’s too much, okay?” he said, “wanna take care of you.”

you nodded, “okay,”

he brought his mouth back down to your pussy. he continued to eat you out as your thighs shook around his head, his fingers fucking up into you so good you were about to see stars. the feeling of your stomach tightening was the feeling you had been missing, your hands pulling on his soft strands.

“‘m close,” you moaned, “just like that - fuck,”

he smirked against you, but did as you asked. he brought you to your release, your whole body shaking under him. you moaned his name and it was like music to his ears as he sat up, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you reached for his waistband as he moaned against your neck, “need you,”

he kicked his sweatpants off, erection finally springing free and slapping his lower stomach. he moaned as your hand grabbed at him gently, taking him into your hand and giving him a few strokes.

you pushed him over, putting him on his back. he let you, watching you with blown pupils as you took him back into your hand and brought your face inches away from his dick.

“is this okay?”

“more than okay,” he breathed.

you didn’t waste anymore time after that, taking him into your mouth and pumping the part that didn’t fit with your hand. he moaned behind his hand, grabbing at your hair and turning it into a makeshift ponytail.

he watched you go down on him, mouth warm and wet and everything he imagined your pussy was going to feel like. he felt his tip hit the back of your throat and he threw his head back, your hands coming up to play with his balls. he was a goner, eyes rolled back and moans falling from his lips.

you had him right where you wanted him.

“fuck,” he panted, placing a hand on your cheek, “feels so good, but i wanna - shit - i wanna be inside you.”

you nodded, releasing him softly. he grabbed at your hips, pulling you back on top of him and you moaned as you grinded against him. his hands on your hips felt so good, softly lifting you and positioning his dick with your entrance.

“shit,” he mumbled, “did you want a condom?”

you shook your head, “i’m on the pill and i trust you.”

he nodded back at you before letting you sink onto him. you moaned together, his eyebrows furrowing and your head tilting back slightly as he stretched you out.

he gave you a second, leaning up to kiss you. you kissed him back, hands in the curls at the nape of his neck before you slowly rocked against his hips. he moaned into your mouth, hands on you again as you did it again.

you had found your pace, alternating between rocking against him and softly bouncing against him. he held you close, mouth on your tits as his hands squeezed and slapped at your ass gently.

you kissed his neck, leaving a small mark where it could be covered with a shirt. your teeth pulling at his earlobe as you moaned softly into his ear, “fuck, you’re so big,”

he moaned back at you, “and you feel fucking incredible,” his nose met yours, “don’t know if i can ever get enough now.”

you smiled softly, “i’m okay with that.”

“yeah?” he smiled, you leaning back, hands on his thighs as you rocked your hips. he snuck his hand between your bodies, rubbing at your clit, your gasp filling the air, “like my dick that much huh?”

you moaned, “not just your dick,”

he knew what you were getting at, his free hand cupping your cheek. he knew you had felt the same way as him, you didn’t have to say it out loud. it was obvious. it had been for years.

the room was quiet other than the sound of skin slapping together and your soft moans and pants. he broke the silence, “i’m so close,”

you nodded your head, “me too,”

“shit,” he grabbed at your hips and picked up the pace, fucking up into you, “come for me. come all over this dick, baby,”

you whined softly, your own fingers taking over where his had left, “lan,”

“yeah, honey,” he smiled proudly, “who’s making you feel this good?”

“you,” you whimpered, you were so so close, “only you.”

“that’s right, babygirl,” he felt you clenching around him, sending his head tilting back, “oh fuck,”

your body shook with your second orgasm, a moan leaving your lips when he pulled out of you, fisting his dick as he came onto his stomach. you laid down next to him, catching your breath as he tried to even his own breathing.

“i’ll be right back,” he softly pressed a kiss to your temple and you nodded, smiling at him sleepily as he ventured off into his connected bathroom. you closed your eyes, feeling content as you heard the water running at the sink. he came back into his bedroom, tugging on his sweatpants before kneeling back onto the bed and tapping at your thighs, “c’mere,”

you complied, smiling as he wiped the warm cloth against you, cleaning you up, “want a shirt?”

you nodded and he tossed the wash cloth and shirt he had on earlier into his dirty clothes hamper. he rummaged through his closet, finding your favorite shirt of his. he came back to the mattress, “your favorite.”

you smiled and hummed as he helped you into it, smiling when your head reappeared through the hole, “thanks,”

he nodded, this time getting comfortable next to you. he picked up the tv remote, wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you into his chest. your ear listening in on his heart and how fast it was still beating.

he scrolled through netflix, looking for something stupid to watch because he knew you would be asleep shortly. he could tell with the way your eyes were glossed over and the soft yawn you tried to hide into your arm. he turned on a show you both had seen a million times. your head tilted back to look back at him.

he met your eyes and smiled, brushing a piece of hair from your face, “breakfast in the morning?”

you nodded, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “only if i can get the blueberry waffles,”

he laughed, smiling against your lips, “you can get whatever you want, love.”

you smiled and kissed him again, drowning in everything lando. he held you close to him, pressing kisses to your cheek when the kiss got broken because of how big your smile was.

“whatever i want, hmm?”

he met your eyes, a knowing smile on his face as he tilted your chin to look at him, “say the word and it’s yours.”

you licked your lips, “i think you owe me a date first.”

“the go on a date with me,” he said, “tomorrow, that little Italian place you like.”

you hummed, smiling up at him again, “it’s a date.”

[percyjavksongf]

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!.•❀

➤𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤!𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➤𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐’𝟖𝟖𝟓

➤𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

“𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 “𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝,

“𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫“

𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜

Somewhere in camp, Percy was probably off teaching younger campers how to properly wield a sword, and you? Well your contribution to Camp Half-Blood was keeping your pouting face hidden in a feather filled pillow.

You thought of dragging your tired legs off the bed and going out, doing something productive with your last few days at camp before the summer was up, but then you’d feel sick at the thought off speeding up your day by doing something productive, so you’d just sigh and roll over in your bed. Your internal fight to leave bed lasted for an hour or so before you came to the conclusion that at least sitting up in bed would be better then slowly suffocating in your bed sheets, so you did just that.

You groaned at the pop your back made when you finally pulled yourself up, gods you really needed to get out of this bed. Although you understand it probably makes a hell of a lot of more sense to actually achieve something on this crisp summer day, like run through the strawberry fields with Selina nipping at your heals, squealing with happiness as the sun beats down unforgivingly against your sweating skin. Or maybe you’d be sneaking around with Connor, he always knew how to put an honest smile of your face, even if others found him annoying, you believed he had a hidden sweetness to him that he covered up with stupid jokes and wild pranks.

You flipped through your thoughts for awhile, humming the familiar tune that drifted through the air of your mother’s cabin, Demeter, admiring the wildflowers that seemed to almost dance along with the tune. A knock at your Cabin door had you reluctantly removing your eyes from the ballet of the wildflowers and staring curiously at the door, you weren’t expecting anyone so you almost considered ignore the noise, that was until they started knocking furiously on the door and forcing you up from your comfortable position. You walked over to the door quickly in hopes to stop the awful banging that disturbed the plants and swung the door open.

“you wanna get drunk?”

Pollux.

You send him a false look of annoyance and let your eyes travel down to the pitcher of grape flavoured cool aid in his purple stained hands, he must’ve just made it.

“drunk?” you questioned incredulously, “have you finally done it? Turned water into wine! Oh you’re a little Jesus in the making!” you cried out dramatically and reach for the pitcher. Pollux, picking up on your tease right away quickly moved to hold the pitcher away from you

“ha ha, very funny. I’m obviously still working on completing that miracle, but in the mean time we could go get a sugar rush” Pollux peered behind you, raising a brow at your obviously recently occupied bed “or are you too busy?” you rolled your eyes and put a hand to Pollux’s chest, pushing him the rest of the way out of your cabin’s front door and turning to shut it behind you. You supposed it wouldn’t be much harm to spend an hour out in the fresh air.

An hour turned into five and the sun was starting to set on yours and Pollux’s makeshift dining area, the once filled pitcher was now discarded, empty and resting on it’s side. Pollux and you had moved to rest against a rough tree and people watch, making comments on possible up and coming romances in the camp.

“you know I’ve heard a few rumours about you” Pollux stated matter of factly and you gasped, turning to face him in an instant. “you have to tell me”

“no I don’t” Pollux grinned, obviously enjoying the power he had over the topic

“yes you do, you can’t bring it up and then not tell me” you state seriously, causing Pollux to grin wider “actually I just heard from the department of hidden information and yep, uh huh, ok yeah I’ll let them know. No, I don’t have to tell you” you stared unimpressed at the skit Pollux played out for you of him answering the phone to deny your request, you looked away from him and stared off at the sunset, “thats fine smart ass, I’ll just have to let Mr D know about the time you actually got drunk, and how it wasn’t done by any miracle but more so by a lie his devious son managed to get away with”

“It’s about you and Percy”

A laugh burst out of your chest at how quickly he confessed, and you failed to notice boy’s stare burning into your skin, and the slight blush forming on his face. You laughter had died down and you finally registered his rushed words.

“Percy and I? What about us” you questioned curiously. Percy and you had been joined at the hip since you first came to Camp Half-blood, both having a peculiar love for blue food and the ability to get yourselves into all sorts of trouble. You’d say you became close friends after the fight of Manhattan, you had taken a nasty blow to the head that left you unconscious for a couple of days, when you had finally awoken in the camp infirmary the first thing you noticed besides the pounding in between your ears, was the exhausted face of Percy Jackson sitting in the chair beside your bed, his restless hands fiddling with your bed sheets. Since that day Percy almost seemed to make a habit out of making sure to see you every single day. The thought snapped you back to the present, surprised you hadn’t already realised it, you hadn’t seen Percy today.

“just something about you two spending a lot more time together, thats all. You know how people around here gossip over nothing” you frowned at the bitter tone of his voice and looked back towards the camp, where was Percy?

“have you seen Percy today?” you replied, forgetting the topic of your conversation mere seconds earlier. You tried to ignore the small frown that appeared on Pollux’s mouth at the mention of Percy. Over the past few months you had noticed Pollux’s opinion of Percy shift every so slightly, he used to be overjoyed by the mention of Percy but now it seemed to be the worst thing you could talk about with him, and you weren’t really sure why.

“probably somewhere showing off his sword fighting or something” Pollux grumbled and leaned back on his hands “never mind him, lets just lounge in the sun and pretend we had a productive day”

“let us live as flowers, wild and beautiful and drenched in the sun” you grin and look over to Pollux, knowing the quote will earn you an eye roll

“yeah ok flower power, just change the last part to drenched in wine and I’ll accept it” an eye roll or a dumb comment.

Your gaze returned to the camp once more and to your surprise you spot Percy only a few feet away from you, walking over at a comfortable pace. That was always something you enjoyed about Percy, he always seemed so laid back. You let a smile bloom over your face and lifted you hand up to block out the dying sun,

“hello miss wild and beautiful and drenched in the sun” the shit eating grin that graced Percy’s features maked your heart flutter,

“you’re here to eavesdrop I see” you quickly take note of the new freckles that decorate his sun kissed complexion, and the gentle stream of red that’s flowing on his upper arm that makes you frown and get to your feet, at his side in an instant “Percy your arm-”

“it’s fine, really. Just comes with the job of teaching twelve year olds how to use a sword” you carefully brush your thumb over the skin just beside the cut, it was just a nick but still was un welcomed by you none the less.

You hummed and removed your hand from his skin, it almost felt like your palm was burning as it drifted away from Percy, itching for the contact once again. A forced cough from behind you steals your attention, Pollux had gathered his pitcher and gave you a tight lipped smile, “I’ll leave you to it, see you around” you gave him a smile wave and thanked him again for the cool aid, you turned away from his retreating form you’re met with another unimpressed look.

“you better hope the wind doesn’t change, Perseus”

Percy’s burnt nose wrinkles from the name, only his mother calls him by his real name.

“what have I done to deserve a full name?” he scoffed

“give me that look” you replied matter of factly

Percy’s frown deepened for a moment before springing back up into a soft smile, the wind had picked up and you watched as his hand reached forward to tuck away a strand of your hair that was moving lazily in the breeze. You stared up at Percy through your lashes, uncaring of the heat that bloomed on your face. Percy knew the effect he had on you anyways.

“Pollux doesn’t like me” Percy said, moving his hand to rest against your cheek, his calloused thumb drawing soft circles on your skin. Your eyes scan your surroundings, hoping to the gods that no one was around to disturb your moment of piece, where the cloak fell off and left Percy’s love for you proudly displayed. Percy’s other hand playfully pinched the exposed skin on your waist and your eyes fixed to his once more. “don’t worry about them, let them see us”

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally at that, Percy and you had decided to keep your budding romance to yourselves when it first began, when the war had just ended and you felt it was best to leave that detail out, more focused on the loss of your fellow campers and dealing with that grief. But as the months went on you had still stayed the same, secret meetings after the camp fire had died down, sneaking into the lake with the help of the Percy’s air bubbles, only the fish that inhabited there knew of your love for each other. Sometimes during a particularly serious game of capture the flag, one where you and Percy were on different teams, he would manage to sneak up on you a steal a quick kiss before running off with a laugh in attempts to through you off your game. You’d always return the kiss later after your team won.

“why do you think Pollux doesn’t like you?” you questioned

“because he likes you” Percy replied much to your surprise “it’s all anyone at camp can talk about these days, they swear he’s going to ask you out any day now” it’s hard to miss the slight grumble in his voice as he goes on about how Pollux has been flirting with you for months, but you honestly hadn’t picked up on it. Right now you were more focused on the way Percy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the mention of Pollux trying to woo you. You’d had reached the wooded area of camp and reached for Percy’s hand then, your fingers intertwined and you positioned yourself in front of him, now walking backwards to face him as you spoke. Percy seemed to be more focused on guiding you away from any trees unknown to you.

“I don’t think he dislikes you, Percy. He’s never said anything bad about you” you said, Percy hands moved to your hips to side step you away from a fallen branch.

“he’s never said bad about me to you, probably” Percy said

“probably, see it’s not definite” you attempted to reason, any other words leaving your mind in a heartbeat when you feel the scratchy bark of a tree pressed against your back. You eyes stayed glued to Percy’s as he stepped closer to you, his hands drifting up to your waist. You looked around then to see if any campers, or gods forbid, Mr D, were taking a stroll through the woods at this time. Percy’s fingers resting on your jaw beckoned your attention back to him “always looking around” he spoke lowly, his words for you and you alone.

“are you sure you want to make this known?” you’re unsure why you whispered it, there was no one around anyways. But you still felt nervous, it only took one person to see before the news would spread like wildfire, and you would be bombarded with invasive questions and ‘how could you not tell me!’ from your siblings. Too be honest you kind of liked being a little secret, knowing you had Percy all to yourself. But you knew how much better it would be to not have to sneak around everywhere, the teasing would die down eventually and your relationship would be common knowledge.

“I think we’ve hidden this away for way to long, I want everyone to know you’re my girl”

you can’t contain the smile that his words bring you, his girl.

“we’ll only if you’re ok with that, of course” he followed up with quickly

“yeah I think it’s about time I explain to Miranda why I keep waking her up at three in the morning to let me in through the window” you laughed, imagining the look on her face when you finally spill the beans to her, she’s undoubtedly by excited by the news, but probably also scold you for keeping it from her for so long.

The sun’s golden rays poured down through the dancing leaves that dressed the trees and sunk into your skin, you watched as Percy’s eyes almost seemed to glow in the light, he was summer’s child.

You relaxed against the tree and pulled Percy closer to you, and for a moment you let the world consist of just the two of you. You never thought it ever would, even though the two of you had been friends since the age of twelve there was never a time where you could just breathe together. there was always a quest, or a battle, or a four thousand year old girl who Percy vanished with for two weeks, that one had caused a raft between you for a few weeks.

But now you simply exist together, and it makes everything worth it.

You brought a hand up to rest against his upper arm, revelling in the heat that was coming of his dirt covered skin, you made a mental note to tease him about it later and send him off to the showers. Your hand continued it travels upwards and you finally landed in the space between his shoulder and his neck, running a thumb against the underside of his jaw.

“you in love with me or something?” Percy teased, drawing a hum from you in response

“I might just be, Jackson” you grinned, before letting out a gasp as Percy dipped his head quickly and kissed you. It started off heavy and warmed you up like nothing else, it slowed down into soft pecks before Percy drew away, not without pressing on last kiss to your redden lips.

“I might just love you too” Percy breathes out, dipping back down again to press his lips to the side of your mouth, “my sweet girl” he mumbled against your lips finally before pressing one last kiss to them.

“Percy” you whispered, putting a hand against his chest to create some distance as you flushed at the realisation of how exposed the two of you were. Percy took a step back with a smug grin, his hands never leaving you.

“you are though” Percy continues, causing you shove against him gently in protest “my sweet girl, or do you prefer my girl, cus you know both statements are true-”

“shut up” you whine out in embarrassment, he was so shameless. Percy laughed at your protest and took your hand in his, pulling you towards the rows of cabins.

“what’re we doing?” you said, letting him lead you away from the shade of the trees, Percy only smiled at you before continuing ahead

“we’re going to hang out with the rest of the campers, maybe your friend Pollux will be there”

you give him a deadpan look at the mention of Pollux, still wondering how a man like Percy could be jealous of your friendship with Pollux, it was obvious you only had eyes for him.

“and why are you so eager to get us there?” you questioned curiously

“cus I want them all to see that you’re my girl” he stated back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to press a quick kiss against. You sighed and made a show of dramatically rolling your eyes.

I guess he was sticking to that term, his girl.

...

a/n: helloooo, wrote this in a couple of hours so it's rushed like all of my works <3 my first non christmas inspired percy work so i hope yous like it!!!

[stealingpotatoes]

happy neil banging out the tunes day to everyone who celebrates

[itsnotjustgibberish]

The day is almost here!

…Hey that’s not Neil

[pinkaditty]

Victim (Perv!SlightYan!Haku Kusanagi x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

Part 1: There's a Snake under your Bed!

being held at gunpoint uhhhhmmmm sorry! haku’s my fav! bang!

a/n: so i can’t get this idea out of my head. enjoy. it's been swimming in my head for literal DAYS. please eat and enjoy this or ill cry. also blame aya she put so much perv! haku shit on my dash that i went in2 cardiac arrest and had 2 write this LMFAOOAOAO

summary: haku walks you back after hanging out at hotarubi. the rain traps you inside.

cw: perverted haku kusanagi, slight yandere/unhinged haku kusanagi (?), weird behavior, implied peeping tom, etc etc u guys know the drill. NOT PROOFREAD i just edited the typos idk if it's perfect. ill polish it later maybe.

QUICK BLURB: @kkink recently contacted me and was kind enough to let me know that we both had the same ideas for this prompt and they have written something similar. im not sure if they've posted theirs yet, but please check them out! they were super nice and were really concerned about it, so give them some love please!

BEFORE YOU READ: ok last thing: i personally hc haku 2 be a natural redhead. his hair is probably copper. why? bc his roots, even in his cat and chibi sprites, are shown to be red. i think he just chooses 2 dye his hair green, but you can't dye your lashes (safely, at least), which is why his lashes in this fic are described as copper. okok that's all.

It starts when you accidentally let it slip that Haku’s your favorite ghoul. Not that anybody—including Haku himself—didn’t really know, but hearing it from you is different altogether. 

He was walking you back to the chapel after you spent the afternoon at Hotarubi. There was no particular reason for your visit, just to see the ghouls and perhaps escape from the otherwise chaotic atmosphere of Darkwick campus. As ever, Haku, Subaru, and Zenji were welcoming, and happily accommodated you with sweets, tea, pleasant conversation, and the soft pattering of the rain filling any silence. You miss the constant rain in Hotarubi every time you leave, even if it’s raining on Darkwick campus in general. 

Haku keeps his pace a bit slower than usual so you can keep up, clearly not in any rush to drop you off. He’s humming a pleasant tune, one of the many ones you’ve heard him play on his flute before. You appreciated his leisurely attitude, smiling to yourself. Something about when he hums or plays on his flute makes you feel relaxed, even with all that’s happening on campus. You are content to let the silence continue, filled with the rumbling of the sky signaling thunder, and Haku’s pleasant humming. 

Unfortunately, either a higher power has a grudge against you or Darkwick is cursed, because in mere moments, a soft drizzle that had you and Haku speedwalking to your door turned into a surprisingly heavy downpour, right as you turn the corner to the chapel. With the two of you soaked, it hardly seemed worth it to speed walk any longer.

You exchange glances with Haku, taking in his drenched form. Your amusement must show on your face, for his eyes crinkle with mirth as well. You think for a moment his eyes linger on your chest, but maybe you're imagining it. 

Finally on the front steps of the chapel, you open your door and tumble into the much warmer, drier environment. You look back to Haku, just as he's waving farewell. 

“See you around, princess." He winks at you, smiling brightly despite the rain. "Come by again sometime.”

He's about to turn on his heel and march back to Hotarubi in the rain when you reach out and grasp his wrist. It almost slips out of your hand from how slick it is due to the rain.

"No, stay.” 

He whips his head around and glances at your firm grip on his wrist, a light blush coming to his face. As he turns his gaze back to you, he smiles wryly. “Why, need help getting undressed after all this rain?” His eyes narrow with mirth, and another emotion you can’t quite place.

A blush colors your face but you don’t respond, a bit surprised by his forwardness. Haku was always forward with you, but you can never tell if he’s being serious or not. 

Your silence must have spooked him, because he turns away, his smile fading just a little. “Kidding, I promise.” You almost wish he wasn’t. He turns back to you, smiling brightly as though the joke really hadn’t meant anything. “Really though, I should get back to Hotarubi. Subaru’s waiting on me.”

His excuses barely phase you, and they don’t help to loosen your grip, either. You tug him inside, and he reluctantly follows, albeit with some resistance. “Subaru will understand. I can’t let you catch a cold.” You release his wrist once he’s inside and quickly shut the door behind him, effectively trapping him inside. You then tug him along to your room, biting back a smile when you feel his resistance fade. 

You open the door and usher Haku inside, pressing your hands insistently on his back until he relents and slinks inside, standing awkwardly close to the door like a lost wet cat. You shut the door behind him again, walking into your room comfortably. You turn to him, only to notice his eyes scanning the room, as though committing it to memory, before his eyes halt on something just over your shoulder. You turn around questioningly, only to realize in your rush to leave for Hotarubi, you had left a small pile of clothes in front of your bed, including some embarrassingly patterned intimates. Your face colors immediately, and you rush over, nearly tripping over your feet to get to the pile. You bundle the small pile in your arms, looking towards Haku apologetically. You stammer before finding the right words, painfully aware of Haku’s amused gaze boring into you. “S-Sorry! Um, I was in a rush before I left for Hotarubi, and—”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Haku cuts you off, shaking his head. “I’m the same way. Back home, I’d leave my jackets lying around so frequently I’d trip over them pretty often.” He scratches the back of his neck, smiling shyly. 

You tilt your head at him, forgetting you’re holding a pile of panties and bras as you turn towards him. “Huh.” You take a moment to absorb this new information, smiling softly. It was funny how the heir to a rather prestigious Shinto shrine was so normal with odd habits of his own. It made your heart swell with familiarity. “What did your family think of that?" 

He shakes his head, glancing away. “My family hardly went in my room.” From the uncharacteristically stoic tone in his voice, you assumed it wasn’t a topic he wanted to talk about. You respect that, letting the slightly awkward silence settle over you two. Before long, you notice him intermittently glancing at the pile of clothes you still carried in your arms. You rush to shove them into your hamper, moving it out of sight behind a chair. It’s when he laughs that you realize you may have gone overboard.

“I hope you don’t invite just any guy over when you’ve got your clothes lying around like that.” Haku jokes, scuffing his shoes against the wooden floor. A wry smile twists his face again, and his gaze flickers from you to where you hid the hamper. “Some of them might get the wrong idea, you know.” With the way his gaze fixates on you as he says that, you are almost inclined to believe that was a warning against him specifically. You suppress a shiver and blink at him curiously instead, smiling amusedly.

“Well, I know I can trust you!” You turn away, heading towards a closet to collect some towels for the two of you. “You’re my favorite ghoul.”

You grab two white towels and shuffle back to Haku, noticing he seems rather stiff and wide-eyed. He clicks his tongue as he regains his relaxed composure, smirking at you as though he were fine moments ago. “You say that to all the ghouls I bet.” He chuckles.

“No, just you.” You’re standing rather close to Haku, using your own towel to dry off your hair. You’re uncomfortably aware of how your uniform sticks to your body. It makes you shiver, holding the towel tight against your neck. When you look up again, Haku’s gaze snaps upwards to meet yours. You were sure he’d been looking at your chest just now, but maybe you’re overthinking it. “I know I’m technically not allowed favorites,” you start, a teasing smile growing on your face, “but you’ve been so kind. How could you not be my favorite?” You smile cheerily at him before stepping back and focusing on drying your hair, relieving yourself from some of the stagnant chill of the rapidly cooling water. 

Instead of painstakingly attempting to dry your uniform blazer, you decide to try and peel it off. You’ve barely managed to shrug it off your shoulders before you turn back to Haku. He jumps slightly, his gaze flickering to your face, as though he’d been in a trance. “You should take off your wet blazer, too. You’ll still catch a cold if you keep wet clothes on.” 

You turn away and struggle with your blazer a bit more, the sleeves and back insistently stuck to your skin thanks to the rain. Haku laughs behind you, and you hear approaching footsteps. “You know princess, I am always down to help you undress.” His voice lowers in tone by a few notes. You shiver as a warm hand settles on your shoulder. Even warmer breath curls around your ear and you fight the urge to shiver again. “All you have to do is ask.” You can almost feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, but choose to ignore it, letting him take hold of one of the sleeves of your blazer.

He’s definitely only teasing you. Your face is burning from the sudden closeness, and you’re almost certain the stifled chuckle from behind is him enjoying your embarrassed, speechless state. He successfully helps you wiggle out of one arm of the blazer, and you think you feel his fingers tracing your bra straps before he helps you slide out of the other arm of your blazer. 

You turn towards him, and he hands your blazer back to you, looking smug. Something flickers in his eyes, but you can’t quite place what. He almost looks excited. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” You reluctantly hum an agreement, rolling your eyes. He could tease you all he wanted, but that didn’t mean you’d play along forever. 

Still amused, Haku turns away and begins peeling his own blazer off. For a moment, you’re stuck watching his movements, observing how his skin peeks through the drenched layers of his shirt, watching as his shoulders flexed when he tugged on his sleeves. Droplets of water still hang from his hair, gently clinging to the back of his neck. You hear him chuckle, and look up to find his gaze fixed on you over his shoulder. “It’s rude to stare, princess.” 

To prove a point, you turn away, huffing indignantly. You use your towel to attempt to dry off some more, but even with that, you still feel unusually cold. You glance longingly towards your bathroom, imagining the benefits of a hot shower. But that would probably be rude to do, especially with Haku here. You sigh and place your towel atop a chair, sitting on it so you don't get the chair wet. Haku joins you, sitting on a chair next to you. You watch as a stray droplet of water slides down the side of his face, eventually dipping down his jaw and sliding down his neck before disappearing below the collar of his uniform shirt. Idly, you wonder if the droplet joined the clinging moisture of his top, or continued rolling down his slightly exposed collarbone. 

Before you can think to check, Haku clears his throat, and you lift your gaze to meet his. “Using your hands is far more effective than using your eyes to undress me." He winks at you, his smile curling into something less teasing and more genuinely suggestive. 

You exclaim, embarrassed at having been caught staring again, and once again tripped up by his forwardness. You scramble to retort in time, folding your arms in front of your chest, not missing how Haku’s gaze drops shamelessly. “If you keep making jokes about us being undressed, I'm going to start assuming it's something you want to do." You smirk at him, your face lighting up with mirth. “There's a bit of truth in every joke, after all." You speak in a singsong voice, further teasing Haku. Of course, you didn't want the jokes to stop, but that didn't mean you couldn't tease him about any potential desires he could be unaware of.

The way Haku looks at you as you tease him sends a curious shiver down your spine. The way his tongue flicks across his lips for a moment paired with his piercing gaze reminds you of a snake. His smile is neither teasing, nor suggestive, but almost sinister in nature. “What, you want the truth of me being a pervert who wants to see you undressed?” 

Something about his tone was teasing, but there wasn't the slightest hint of a lie in what he suggested. You aren't sure what expression you're making, too focused on suppressing the nervous, wild smile that threatened to spread across your face. You open and close your mouth, trying to find a response, but any witty or even lackluster responses fail to come to you.

Haku bursts out in laughter, but something about it feels somewhat forced. “I’m kidding, I promise!" He says between remnant chuckles, the mirth not quite reaching his eyes. “Gosh, you should see your face." He leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands. He points at your face, smirking. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn that color.”

You bury your face in your hands, not bothering to look up when Haku continues laughing. He was only teasing, you were sure of that…

You decide to simply ignore him again, shivering. You hug yourself with your arms, looking longingly towards your bathroom again. It'd have to wait. You glance towards the window, noting the rain still pattering. You shiver again without realizing, wondering if it would be too far to take your soaked shirt off and wrap your towel around yourself instead. 

“Go ahead." Haku speaks up, and when you turn towards him, he jerks his head towards your bathroom. “I don't mind." 

You shake your head, smiling politely. “No, it’s fine! It’d be rude of me to shower while a guest is over—”

Haku shrugs at your words before cutting you off. “And who is a guest to interrupt her highness’s shower?” He smiles fondly at your perplexed expression, glancing towards the window. “The rain’s letting up, anyway. I won’t be here much longer, so it doesn’t matter.” 

You try not to deflate at Haku’s mention of his eventual departure. Instead, you gaze at him warily, trying to ensure he really is okay with you disappearing for twenty minutes or so. He simply returns your gaze, blinking slowly, an easy smile on his face. 

You relent, finally turning away after feeling your skin prickle with something between excitement and hesitance. You look towards the shower again, before glancing at him once more out of the corner of your eye. He sighs and holds out his hand, his pinky outstretched. “Here, I promise I won’t do anything strange.” He smiles again, his expression seemingly open and trusting, the same Haku you first met on the train several months ago. “You can trust me. I’m your favorite, right?” His smile turns cheeky, and you try and fail to resist returning his smile. You reach out with your pinky too, circling it around his own. His skin is warm to the touch, and you notice a callous on his fingertip, probably from years of perfecting the flute. 

After holding his pinky for a moment too long, you finally pull away and lift yourself from the chair, gathering a fresh outfit before heading for the shower. You pretend not to feel Haku’s gaze following your movements. 

You give Haku a slight wave before closing the door to the bathroom, leaning your back on the door. You still felt a bit odd about all of this, but he was still your favorite ghoul. You were sure you could trust him to not pillage your dresser like you’d expect some other ghouls to do with reckless abandon. 

You pause as you start undressing, thinking to yourself for a moment. You trace the straps of your bra in the same way you were sure Haku had earlier when he helped you take off your blazer. He’s been nothing but decent, if not a little flirtatious. Sure, his actions and jokes were questionable, and both Subaru and Zenji have had to metaphorically pull on his leash every now and again, but he was still kind. Perhaps this had something to do with why he was so awkward and hesitant about being alone with you? You decide to halt your thoughts there and swallow the desire of indecency from him. You clench your jaw, feeling your body heat up as you attempt to stave off your arousal. You were definitely due for a cold shower to at least shake these thoughts off. 

You flinch at the cold temperature of the water when you finally step inside, and after feeling like you were somewhat clean of perverse desires, you turn the water back to a warmer temperature. As you bathe, grateful for the warm water at long last, you glance at the door momentarily. It’s cracked open, a golden eye framed by copper lashes gazing at you through the space. You look away, not having fully absorbed the scene. A jolt passes through you as what you just saw settles in. You suddenly startle and quickly move to cover yourself, looking back at the door, just a split second from when you’d first glanced. 

It was closed. 

You blink at the closed door, feeling your heartbeat thump insistently in your chest. You heave, your mouth hanging open in shock. You place a hand on your chest, keeping your gaze on the door. After a few minutes of silently staring at the door, you allow yourself to minutely relax, reducing the tremor in your arms to a barely noticeable tremble. You breathe deeply, each exhale coming out like a sigh of relief. You blink a few more times, as though to clear your vision, and turn back to the door. Still closed. You shake your head and return to bathing, mulling over what you had seen. There really was no other explanation besides you potentially hallucinating that, right? Right. Perhaps you hadn’t looked closely enough and had seen what you wanted to see, right? Right. Haku was pretty harmless, right? …Well, he is a ghoul. But besides that, he’s harmless. Probably. And when you think about it, you’d give the same judgement to most of the ghouls on campus, anyway. Probably harmless so long as you didn’t piss them off. You nod to yourself, shaking your head again as you turn off the water. You hadn’t seen anything, after all.

As you’re drying off, moisturizing, and getting dressed in a fresh outfit, you notice a puddle of something just inside the room, right in front of the door. It was almost invisible against the white tile, but still there nonetheless. It was a white, milky, translucent substance. You finish dressing after keeping an eye on it like the puddle would escape. You open the bathroom door as you gaze at it, walking past it. It looks like it could be some of your vanilla-scented soap, but—

“Hey,” Haku calls to you from the front of the room, adjusting his blazer. One look at the windows tells you the rain has finally let up, bits of sun shining through gaps in the clouds. You trot out of the bathroom, puddle forgotten, and approach Haku. 

You exaggerate a pout, crossing your arms. “Leaving already?”

Haku laughs, reaching out and swiping his knuckle under your chin, lifting your face. “Cheer up,” he says before pulling back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll come visit another time.”

You huff, shooing him away with your hands. He chuckles and turns away, opening the door. “First you’re pouting, and now you’re shooing me away?” 

“Subaru’s waiting, isn’t he?” You cross your arms and lean on the doorway, watching as he makes his way to the entrance of the chapel.

Haku sucks in a breath, a grimace forming on his face. “Ah, yeah.” Haku rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Hope I’m not in trouble…” He mumbles to himself, opening the chapel door and stepping outside. He looks back and waves, cheeky smile on his face. He’s probably thinking about how he’s your favorite ghoul. 

You wave back, and wait until the door finally closes to step back inside your own room, closing the other door behind you. Your fingers curl into your palms as you try not to excitedly run over to the side of your bed. You tamp down your excitement, walking slowly. You crouch next to the corner of your bed and try to wipe the stupid smile off of your face before peeking around the corner at the hamper full of clothes you’d stashed here earlier. The pile was noticeably lacking, even smaller than it was before. The most obvious and memorable patterns were still there, but you could tell a few of your intimates were definitely missing. You try not to let your smile grow wider, biting down harshly on your lips. 

He’d taken the bait. 

a/n: is literally vibrating with excitement IM FINISHED OH MY GODDDD THIS TOOK SO LONGGGGG EVERYONE PLEASE ENJOY!!!!!!!! god i hope this is literally PERFECT i spent 4ever making it just right so i hope it gets y'alls toes curling or whatever amen!

shamelessly, as per usual, please, i love likes, but especially comments, tagged reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work! im catering to you! please, let me know if you liked it!

ok let me. try and stop shaking IMS OS EXCITED 2 POST!!!!!!! okok im done

4got 2 add this in earlier but self-indulgent: in case ur like me and cannot stop pacing bc of perv!haku x reader, here's the songs i listened 2 while writing this:

"judas" and "monster" by lady gaga

"mind brand" by maretu

"gasoline" by halsey

taglist: @cupcakesmoothie @aayakashii @sunskosh @despairingy-obsessed @glamorousspoon @mmy-meow

want 2 join the tkdb taglist? let me know!

[ckret2]

tell us about aku/scaramouche

thank you anon for indulging me

listen. I'm banging my fist on the table. Aku/Scaramouche. Why isn't this a THING. Why after digging halfway to hell into the tumblr tags have I only seen two people total shipping Aku/Scaramouche. It is RIGHT THERE.

Scaramouche bases like 50% of his identity around being Aku's #1 specialest little guy. He's called Aku often enough to have memorized both his phone number and the unique tune the buttons make when he dials the number. He crossed half the damn planet AS A HEAD to give Aku some good news as fast as possible. He's known Aku long enough to make it to #1, so he must know how often Aku breaks his bargains—even with people that handed him Jack on a silver platter—but he's unflaggingly confident that Aku will happily pay off Scaramouche's debts as a reward. He's just as confident that the guy who instantly eye-lasers anyone that displeases him will be thrilled to chat after Scaramouche breaks into Aku's locked down castle.

And Aku IS willing to listen and DOESN'T kill Scaramouche for breaking in. He gives Scaramouche a new body—as far as I can recall, the ONLY on-screen example of Aku rewarding an underling in the entire show. He's willing to do a stupid victory dance with Scaramouche. He brings Scaramouche along to gloat at Jack (altho it didn't end well RIP Scaramouche The Merciless you'll be missed). He gave Scaramouche his number in the first place—possibly during the span of time when he's so depressed he'll hardly get out of bed, much less talk to anyone. Aku even accepts collect calls from him.

And there's SO many ways you can write it.

Are you into "villain and his most loyal henchman"? Boom. You've got it.

"Godlike figure and the little person who (figuratively or literally) worships him"? Boom. You can effortlessly spin it that way.

"Murderous remorseless evil power couple that mocks the good guys together"? Boom.

"Creepy dark doom guy who radiates grumpiness and his ball of radioactive sunshine and optimism"? Boom.

"The one guy who can get away with shoving his way into the misanthrope's life without being sent packing"? Boom.

"Guy who looks dark and scary but when Jack isn't stalking him is a font of unhinged evil glee and guy who looks fun-loving and cheerful but is also a font of unhinged evil glee."

"The Statler and Waldorf at any group social function if Statler and Waldorf really liked slaughtering whole towns and mistakenly assumed they were the two coolest guys in the room."

"Guy who's so miserably depressed he can hardly drag himself through the day and guy who goes to the ends of the earth to give him the one thing that can make him smile again."

"Guy who has all the riches in the world and his hot young thing that confidently tells everyone he meets that his sugar daddy evil boss will pay for anything he asks."

Boom boom boom. I could go on. You can do anything with this ship. "Oh I want a monsterfucker ship but I can't tell if I'm in the mood for demons or robots" WHY CHOOSE, HAVE THEM BOTH.

My personal preferred way to interpret them—you're getting my headcanon now, I'm holding back the general Scaramouche headcanons and sticking to the ones relevant to the ship—I think Scaramouche's model is the next-gen upgraded version of the X-model line. The X-49 experiment proved that giving robots emotions made them better at killing and helped them survive longer so they can kill more. So, give them all emotions. Make a couple of tweaks: you don't want them doubting their jobs or understanding right from wrong, so don't give them consciences or the capacity for remorse, let 'em have fun killing while keeping the rage and self-preservation that made X-49 so successful. And rabid loyalty to one living being seems like a great way to motivate them, but we don't want any more robots dragging home stray dogs. Program them for loyalty to Aku.

So here we've got a bot who has an entire whole personality of his own—dude probably dresses himself, he has very strong opinions on Jack's hair, and I'm sure Aku's not the one who went "you know what would make this assassin unstoppable? the flute"—and yet, and yet, the core of his existence is obsessive devotion to Aku. Everything's about Aku, everything's for Aku, he kills for Aku, he travels the world for Aku, he sings and dances for Aku, he breaks Aku's commands for Aku. All he wants to do is everything Aku could possibly want him to do. And he must be succeeding because he's Aku's #1 assassin.

When Scaramouche is slaughtering a whole town just to lure Jack out so he can kill him, Aku is telling his scientists he's given up on sending anyone to kill Jack and pretending he doesn't even care anymore—and that must mean Aku didn't send Scaramouche after Jack, Scaramouche decided on his own that that's his target. It's not like he needs to impress Aku—not THAT much anyway—he's already #1. He's trying to figure out what will make his depressed-as-hell boss finally happy. He's calling Aku as often as he can get away with, to hear his voice, to make sure Aku approves, to ask what now, what can I do for you next.

Eventually, ultimately, if you wait long enough and dig deep enough, his every thought revolves around Aku. It's what he's programmed for, after all. He worships Aku. He wants Aku. He loves Aku.

... Scaramouche you weren't programmed to feel loyalty that way. Scar. Scaramouche what are you doing. None of the other bots in Scaramouche's line did this. (Which is good, because if he thought that a bunch of bots with the potential to be just as competent & useful as him were his rivals, he might just destroy them all.) These emotion chips are wild, the second you flip them on they start adapting and changing and it's impossible to predict how they'll affect a bot's personality. Maybe a bot will decide purple overcoats are cool and fall in love with his boss. You never know. Well... whatever's going on in his head, it seems to be effective. He is Aku's #1 assassin.

For Aku's part? If the show's plot had gone a little bit differently and he didn't blow up anybody's head and they'd both lived long enough for Aku to find all this out himself?

How rare must it be for anyone to want him?

Not his massive store of riches—him. Not a piece of his political power—him. Not offers from him of cushier jobs or better bounties—him. Not his protection as an indestructible shapeshifter—him. Not his favor, a village spared, a prisoner freed—him.

Him—and not in spite of the billion red flags, but heedless of them. Him—with no fear of the potential consequences that come from being so close to him, the greater risk of misstepping and ending up in the Pit of Hate or worse—not because his suitor arrogantly thinks himself immune to those risks (well—maybe a little bit), but because anything he can get before that last mistake would make it all worth it. Him—not because this suitor imagines some secret better nature hiding inside of Aku, but because of what Aku clearly is on the outside—even when he's feeling at his worst and most pathetic—because Scaramouche is devoted to Aku the way he is, because he must be devoted to Aku the way he is, however he is.

The fact that it's programmed doesn't make it any less sincere. And anyway, it was never meant to be programmed like that—from the default code, this arose naturally.

And Aku may have been pursued a few times in the past, primarily for political alliances and the like, but he's never been wanted like THIS before: with the steely-opticked determination of an unstoppable killing machine.

And this demon, this monster, this tree-ogre, who sees children celebrating his would-be murderer and—instead of punishing them or even telling them made-up stories about how good is lame and evil will always win in the end—tries pathetically to convince the children that he's the hero protecting them, tries to steal that hero-worship for himself...

It's possible Aku may have never noticed how awful it feels to be eternally, universally unwanted... until he's wanted for the first time.

And once he feels it, once he's convinced it's real, he'll crave it with all the avarice with which he ever hungered for the rest of the world's vast treasures.

Do you see my vision. Can you feel the potential. Please. Please. I'm on my knees. Is anybody listening.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

cw: dubcon, n0ncon, needles, knives, painplay, n power dynamics

it was petty theft that got you here. an impulsive decision and lack of pocket change had you not so subtly snatching some silly product and in seconds you were dragged off by a member of the Gardes. the trial was speedy and you were handed a single month sentence to the fortress that turned into several though you had honestly lost count. due to the dukes own interest, he plucked you from the general prison populace and kept you tucked away in his own quarters permanently.

you weren’t a hardened criminal and didn’t get the chance to learn any tips or tricks from other prisoners so trying to pick a lock was a foolish idea but desperation leads to such stupidity. it was a brash attempt at some sort of tool combined with wiggling the knob and banging against the door obviously too loud that had Wriothesley whipping it open and knocking your skull against it. his scowl was fierce and you honestly wished looks could kill knowing a cruel punishment was to come.

teary eyed and shaking, you couldn’t even beg for mercy as the first cries were soon stifled with his tie in your mouth. he wasted no time stripping you and tying you firmly to a cold medical cot, grumbling out curses and other irritated verbiage. he opened and slammed a variety of drawers and cabinets, pulling out different tools he kept out of your line of sight, always preying on the fear he could build inside you. Wriothesley took his sweet time in gathering all he’d need before slamming a metal tray on the table next to you and contemplating his first choice in inflicting unforgettable pain. he settled on a thick needle. a wicked grin spread across his face.

hands coming to crudely slap, massage, and pull at your tits, he warmed you up before bringing the metal to your chest. ignoring the rapid shakes of your head and sobs, he made quick work of harshly threading it through the flesh of your left nipple. his fingers jostled it around and seemed to imitate the way he’d certainly be roughly taking you later as he slipped it in and out numerous times to maximize the pain and border on brutalizing your once clean chest. a thick piece of jewellery followed before he gave the other nipple the same treatment as blood dripped down, pooling against your sides and sternum. as if that wasn’t enough his hands returned to the tray once more to retrieve a clean and sharp blade.

he hummed a tune you didn’t recognize as he seemed to ponder over what design would be best along your stomach and collar bones. no amount of bracing yourself could’ve prepared you for the sting as he dragged the metal deep enough to scar. clean cuts of a W landed themselves on each collarbone before he carved a heart paired with some intricate swirls along your lower stomach, spitting on them once satisfied. Wriothesley dragged his fingers harshly over the fresh wounds smearing the blood everywhere. he once more turned to the tray.

spots danced across your vision from the searing pain and you almost missed the sight of the next item, a small vial of dark indigo liquid. he pulled the tie from your mouth and used one hand to keep it open before pouring the entirety to the back of your throat before snapping your jaw shut forcing you to sputter uselessly and swallow. his smile almost seemed sweet as he explained the purpose; enhancing sensations. quickly the pain you felt snapped tenfold and you were past the point of crying and launched straight into shock. the pets that landed along your head, soft coos, and condescending praise imitated that of a real lover and you wanted to throw up. Wriothesley moved himself to kneel atop the cot and spread your numb legs. you knew what was to come.