#would they DARE to do something i do NOT fully expect to happen in the next event???
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fisheito · 3 months ago
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yal'rlready comin for me about that next event preview and i'm like *prepares the salmon cannon, anew*
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helluvapoison · 9 months ago
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Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk need help preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[ii]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Lilith used help… when she was around. The thought of asking someone else, much less the act itself, scorched him with guilt
• Oh well. Lucifer did it before, Heaven had rules about it, so he can do it again! And of course he did! It doesn’t mean it’s not an excruciatingly long process he puts off as long as he can tolerate
• You walk in on him attempting to strain his arms in ways they certainly shouldn’t bend. “Need some help?”
• “Pfft, who me? No, no, no I—“ He pauses. It’s like the predicament he’s been caught in settles in slowly, his smile dropping and crimson irises widening to rival a puppy’s cuteness. “Yes.” He admits meekly
• Your fingers barely touch his feathers and Lucifer jolts. Like him, his wings are so sensative
• Don’t take it personally when he tries to back out after that, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. He has six wings and can barely tolerate your touch as is. This could take a while, he already feels bad
• After a teaspoon more of convincing and a gallon of reassurance later, Lucifer sits as still as he can (which isn’t very) while you gently break open the pin feathers
• You could tease if you wanted, make a joke to try and settle his nerves but something tells you his wings aren’t the only thing that’s sensitive
• Lucifer appreciates your assistance and tenderness more than words can describe, nothing seems like a big enough gift to reward your hard work
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Usually it’s Lute that would help him (and vice versa if he feels like it) but she’s nowhere to be found. He can’t casually ask anyone else. Heaven and its inhabitants can be weird about certain shit, preening is no exception— even though everyone has wings here!
• Walking past Adam’s office, you heard a crash and a lot of swearing. “Sir, are you—?”
“Unless you’re gonna help, fuck right off!” He growls from the ground, still reaching at an awkward angle for his wings
• He’s shocked when you sit on your knees beside him and swat his hand away. “If you make this weird, I will leave.” You warn. He doesn’t dare make even a single comment
• Adam shivers when your fingers glide into his feathers. You wave it off the first time but can’t stop a laugh when it happens again
Face first into the carpet, his loud voice is muffled, “Shut! Up!”
• You take pity on him and don’t drag the process longer than necessary. Awarding yourself a final pet of his oddly soft wings, you stand up, “There. All better?”
• Rising to his feet and giving his wings an experimental stretch, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Thanks. I guess.”
• The next day, you receive a basket from Goody-2-Shoes with various snacks. The card reads, ‘Let me know when I can return the favor. Wings don’t have to be included. ~ A’
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• You know she needs help when she’s more irritable than usual. Snapping at everyone, even Adam, and flinching when her wings move in the slightest
• Approaching the subject with her is harder than anyone. As aforementioned it’s unspokenly taboo but that isn’t what stops her. Lute’s deep rooted issues with intimacy and needing help will make her walls thicker than ever
• “This is inappropriate,” Lute whispers.
In the dead of night she’s finally allowed you to assist but keeps fidgeting and surveying the area like someone will catch you two.
“It is not,” You roll your eyes, “Get your mind out of the gutter and be still! I’ll have you’ll feeling better in no time.”
• She seriously, seriously doubts that. Anything she can’t do herself, amongst certain divine exceptions, no one could do for her
• …But she’s letting you help (and your adept fingers are doing a better job) So either she doesn’t fully believe that, or you miraculously raised her expectations
• Lute decides the latter is acceptable– and a compliment, especially since you prove her wrong. Triple checking her wings, she can’t find a flaw or deny how wonderful they feel now.
• “This is adequate.”
You snort, “You could just say thanks?”
“How can I repay you?”
“I just told you.”
• She narrows her eyes, shocked and suspicious that you wouldn’t want anything. Lute, again, decides that your endeavor deserves an equal act of goodwill. Don’t take it for granted when she says, “No. I owe you one. One.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• She genuinely forgets what’s wrong with her when she needs to preen. Even with her wings folded away, the irritable pricking can be felt. She’s itching the back of her neck, hand clawing under the crew of her shirt and dipping between her shoulder blades when you ask when’s the last time she checked for pin feathers
• Vaggie’s always been independent. Up in Heaven she was a bit cocky with the fact she never needed help to reach them. Now, she felt helpless and stupid. Her arms cramped up, her hair kept getting in the way and the itching only progressed
• “Can I–?”
“No.” Her ivory eyes go wide, surprised at the fury of her own voice. Sighing and avoiding your (what she assumed was a) pitiful gaze, she apologizes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I… I used to be able to do this alone.”
Pausing at how defeated Vaggie sounds, you do your best to keep a positive, neutral tone.
“Cut yourself some slack, you haven’t done this in years. And, y’know, you don’t have to do it alone now. Not if you don’t want.”
• Smiling at the offer hanging in the air but not quite accepting, she goes about her managerial duties only to knock on your door afterwards
• Vaggie’s so grateful you can’t see how dark her face becomes as you sort through her wings. They’re not sensitive, they never were– it’s something about your fingers delicately touching her that cracks her resolve. Now she starts to understand why this was seen as an intimate act upstairs
• “Thanks for…” Still blushing, she gestures to her wings before hiding them, “Thanks.”
You try to keep up with her indifference but can’t help the smile spreading across your face.
“No problem.”
• If you think she’s not replaying the moment over and over in her head for days afterwards, you’re wrong. Vaggie’s desperately waiting for the moment to be just as useful to you
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He’s hardly a fan of Angel touching him the way he does so a solid relationship is required to unlock the level of trust needed for this activity
• The first time it happens when you’re in his life, he won’t ask but also doesn’t reject the offer. Just looks extremely hesitant and uncomfortable
• Carefully, you pinch the rough layer and eye Husk from over his shoulder
• He breathes out a laugh, “Gonna take more than that to hurt me, sugar. Go on, I’ll be fine.”
• His wings might be the least sensitive… but that could also be all that alcohol in his system
• Husk hums as you work. After he gives a big, cat-like stretch and thanks you with a tip of his hat
• The simple gesture means more than you know, he’ll never forget it
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ accidentally on purpose put them from most to least sensitive wings hehehe
big big big BIG thank you to @kottenox for the inspiration and letting me take this idea and run!
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theyhavetakenovermylife · 11 months ago
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First Time (18+)
Bayverse!Donatello x reader
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A/N: Damn, I think this is my longest one ever. Big time Donnie love!💜
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Donatello is more than a little nervous about the thought of having sex with you, not trusting his own abilities, but with some reassurance and guidance from you, he rises to the occasion.
Warnings: A more angsty build up that I had planned, unprotected sex, Donnie having his first time with you💜
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To say that Donatello was an amazing boyfriend, wasn’t enough to do him justice. He was fantastic! The sweetest and most genuine guy you had ever met. He was attentive and treated you well. Sure, he might be a mutant turtle that lived in the sewer, yet he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Whether that spoke of your former poor taste in guys, or just the general low bar for human men you did not know. But you knew for a fact that Donatello was one of the best things that had ever happened in your life.
Donatello would say the exact same thing about you. You were not just the best thing that had ever happened to him, but a dream come true. Before meeting you, he had never actually believed that he would get to experience something so good. Just as he had accepted his fate as a lonely mutant turtle that would spend his days alone in hiding with his brothers, you came along and changed his life for good.
The friendship the two of you shared was just what you needed. You may not fully understand everything Donnie had going on inside his lab, but you listened nonetheless, finally giving a much needed ear to his thoughts and inventions. He in turn provided you with a safe space to go to, whenever your life became a little too much.
During those years of friendship you and Donnie grew close in ways none of you had experienced before. Not even his brothers could read him as well as you did, and you in turn had never thought that anyone would understand you as well as Donnie did. So therefore it was only expected that stronger feelings would blossom.
When you and Donnie started dating, it felt natural. Just like your first kiss. It just came naturally to the two of you. No grad gestures and no confusion. Both you and Donnie knew what it meant, and you were just happy to be with someone that understood you so well.
But if there was one thing that didn’t come as naturally to you and Donnie, it was sex. Actually, it didn’t come naturally to Donnie. You didn’t blame him. The poor guy had lived most of his life, convincing himself that sex would never be something he would get to experience. So when you and Donnie started dating and kissing, and the first thought of sex came up, Donnie started overthinking. You were a human that had had sexual experiences with other humans before, and he was a mutant turtle who had his hand as the closest thing to a former sexual partner.
It didn’t mean that Donatello didn’t want sex, because oh boy, did he want to! He was just nervous. Really nervous. It was almost nerve racking to believe that he could actually have sex, let alone with someone as beautiful as you. And you understood. You really did. You took the time to sit with him and talk it through, making sure he felt heard and comfortable, especially talking about a subject like that. What did he feel? What did he fear? What was he excited about?
Other than the general confusion and trauma that came from accepting your fate of loneliness, you learned that Donatello feared not the action of sex itself, but how he would act. More specifically, he was nervous and overthinking, because he did not know what to do. Where should he put his hands? What was he supposed to say? And the thought that haunted him the most; if he didn’t do good, would you leave him? All very valid fears for a mutant turtle, who did not even dare to dream of being with a human.
You took Donnie’s hands in yours and told him it was okay. He was allowed to be nervous and overthink, and he was allowed to not know what to do. You told him that you loved him, and you wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t make you feel good the first time, nor the time after that. Humans too would be nervous before their first time, and it was very normal not to be satisfied the first time.
And after that conversation, you and Donnie slowly started preparing for your first time together. With Donnie being a totally different species than you, he started preparing you for what you could expect. He told you where his cloaca was located and how it worked, along with other parts of the turtle anatomy you may or may not have known already. You in turn did the same. You told him where humans liked to be touched and answered his questions about human anatomy. And it calmed Donnie down. It calmed him down enough, to the point he dared to ask if he could touch your breast.
The make out session that came from that, was one unlike any you ever had had with Donatello. With his hands groping your breast, you were at a shock of naturally good your sweet tech boyfriend was at this. You had expected him to be more unsure, but you soon learned that when he had the confidence he could do anything. Making you moan against his lips while he played with your nipples, this guy did not know what talent he possessed.
This unlocked a new area of your relationship, that you and Donatello carefully explored. Make out sessions became more common, with hands exploring and building up the courage, going a little further each time, until one night Donnie told you he wanted to try.
“Are you sure?”, you asked. You were sitting in his room, you in his lap with your arms around his neck, still breathing heavily after the heated kiss the two of you had just shared. One of his hands was in the back of your neck, playing with your hair, while the other rested on your ass, squishing you through your pants.
“I’m sure”, Donnie answered, watching you through hooded eyes. The hand on the back of your neck crept to the side of your face, letting Donnie’s thumb glide across the corner of your mouth. “I really want to try”.
You nodded your head, biting your lip with a smile, before letting Donnie close the space between you once more. Your lips dancing together as your tongues slowly found each other, letting a small moan escape you, as you felt the vibrating churr being in Donnie’s chest. You had heard that sound quite a few times now, and each time you loved it more and more.
Your hands moved from Donnie’s neck, and down to the top of his plastron, enjoying the feeling of his vibrating chest through your fingers. You moved your lips to his chin, making your to his neck, feeling the hand on your ass pull you closer. Donnie’s breathing was heavy, his chest moving as he felt you work your lips around his neck.
Donnie’s hands found your waist, dipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your smooth skin against his rough palms. You took this as a sign, removing your lips from Donnie’s neck to take off your shirt. This made Donnie move his hands to your breast, palming them through your bra as you reached back to unhook it. The breathy curse that left Donnie’s mouth once your bra was off, went straight to your core, making you clench around empty air. And Donnie could smell it. The scent of your arousal was strong, making him slightly dizzy.
Donnie nuzzled his head against your neck, pressing kisses against your skin like you had done to him, enjoying every sound that left your mouth and the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. His hands moved from your breast to your pants, where he tried to undo them, only to grow frustrated at the small buttons in his big fingers.
“Want me to take them off?”, you asked, gliding a hand up his neck.
“Please”, Donnie answered, bringing your hips close to him once more.
Donatello watched, with his head resting on your shoulder, through the valley between your breasts, as you undid your pants. Once you got them past your waits he helped you, sliding them off of your legs before throwing them somewhere in his room, leaving you in nothing but underwear on his lap.
“Shit”, he moaned, his heart raising once more as yet another wave of your arousal hit his nose, stronger than before. He hooked his thumbs into the straps of your underwear, his eyes finding yours to ask for permission. Breathless you nodded, lifting your hips to make it easy for him to pull your damp underwear down your legs.
The sight of you naked on Donnie’s lap was enough to make him moan. Your cheeks were already getting pink, and your pupils were just as blown out as his. The best way Donatello could describe the sight in front of him was; hot. So fucking hot.
He kneeled your hips, biting his lips before he asked; “Can I… Will you show me… Will you let me finger you?”
Once again, Donnie’s words went straight between your legs. The way he looked at you and the way he spoke. Needy and so ready to try. You loved every second of it.
“Of course you can”, you answered him, before bringing him in for another needy kiss. You took one of his hands in yours, guiding it down between your legs, helping one of his fingers glide through your folds, letting him feel the wetness that had built up. Donnie shivered, letting a whimper against your lips. You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling from his lips, finding his reaction adorable.
“You feel that?”, you asked him, letting his finger glide through once more. Donnie nodded, letting out a small shuttering yes. “That’s all because of you, Donnie”. Your boyfriend cursed once more, his face showing frustration and absolute bliss.
You moved his thumb to your clit, guiding him on how to circle his finger around your small bundle of nerves.
“Like this?”, Donnie asked, watching your facial expression as he worked his fingers on you.
“Yes”, you breathed out, arching your back enjoying the feeling of his thick thumb on you. “Just like that, Donnie”.
Donatello bite his lip, watching your face closely, while remembering the things you had told him about the human body. How humans liked to be touched. How you liked to be touched. And with that thought in mind he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you close and still, while his index finger glided through your folds once more, before finding your entrance. He slowly pushed his finger in, sighing in delight at how tight you felt around his finger. You moaned, leaning your head back, happy that Donnie had wrapped his hand around to stabilize you.
“Fuck, Donnie”, you moaned, feeling how his finger went further in.
“Is it good?”, he asked, brows knotting together, biting his lips as he felt the familiar feeling from his cloaca, threatening to let dick drop.
“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, your legs shaking against his. “Please, move them Donnie. Like this”. You held up your hand, showing your boyfriend how to move his fingers inside you. Donnie nodded, doing just as you showed him, moving his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rolled against your clit. You moaned, dropping your head against Donnie’s shoulder. He moved his fingers faster, feeling you move and shake against him, every moan from your mouth sounding like sweet music in his ears. He continued like this, feeling you tighten around his finger, your climax inching closer and closer until you came around his fingers with a loud moan.
When Donnie removed his fingers from your used cunt, he could not resist the urge to bring them to his mouth, sucking them off in front of you. The look in your eyes and the way you smelled told him everything he needed to know. You enjoyed it. All of it. He brought your lips back to his, your tongues finding each other. You moaned at the slight taste of you in his mouth.
Donnie pulled from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, listening to your heavy breathing, feeling it against his face. “Can I do it?”
“Do what, Donnie?”, you asked, your hands smoothing over his shoulders and biceps.
“Can I fuck you?”
You nodded, too stunned to speak. Once again, you had not expected Donatello to be so straight forward, having thought he would be way more shy.
Donnie took your lips in for another kiss while he slowly laid you down on your back. Once your back was flat against the mattress, he started moving his clothed crotch against you, moaning against your lips as he felt himself getting closer to his drop. You whimpered against his lip, almost begging him to take his pants off. Finally he sat up and undid his pants in full view of you. He pulled his pants off along with his boxers, before climbing back on top of you, feeling your legs close around him the best they could, bringing his cloaca to meet your wet center.
“Can I drop into you?”, Donnie asked, his lips ligering against yours, his hands moving from your hips, up your sides to your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.
“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, buckling your hips against his, causing him to moan, feeling himself tipping on the edge before finally dropping down in front of your entrance. To his surprise, you were the one to move your hand down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand moving it to your opening before pushing it in closely.
Donatello moaned, his head falling down beside yours, your cunt hugging him tightly as he sunk further in. You kissed the side of his face, whispering sweet nothing as he sunk in as far as he could. He stayed there for a moment, letting you and himself adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You were a tight fit for him, but he couldn’t deny it felt good.
“Donnie, please move”, you moaned, moving your hips under him. Donnie wrapped an arm under your shoulder so he could bring you even closer to you, resting his forehead against yours once more as he slowly began to move, moaning and cursing in delight over the feeling.
His thrusts started out slow and soft, until you told him it was okay to go harder and faster, to which Donnie obliged. He cursed, one of his hands grabbing on to the bedding beside your head, enjoying this knew feeling around his cock.
“Fuck”, he breathed into your ear, causing tingles to erupt in your stomach. “It feels good, (Y/N). Fucking good”.
Your hand found his face, stroking his cheek making him look you in the eye. The sigh was enough to make both of you shiver.
“Wanna go faster?”, you asked him. Donnie nodded, his lips slightly agasp. “Go as fast as you want to. Fuck me as fast as you want, Donnie”.
And that was all your boyfriend needed. Every trace of nervousness Donnie had showed you during your first conversation about sex disappeared, leaving behind what you could only describe as a feast for the eyes. Donnie was concentrated, his brows frowning, his pupils wide as his muscles flexed before he let loose against you. You gasped and moaned loud, grabbing onto Donnie’s shoulders as he thrusted faster and harder into you. He was rougher than you had thought he would be, but you found it to be a pleasant surprise.
But then Donnie did something you never saw coming for his first time. He took one of your legs, hooking it over his arm before thrust into you even deeper than before. This new angle caused you to arch your back in ecstasy, as he continuously hit the sweet spot inside of you. It didn’t take long like this, before you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach as you clung closer around Donnie.
“Donnie!”, you moaned out, your pitch higher than he ever had heard it before, making him growl in delight. “Donnie, I’m close!”
Donnie did not answer you. Instead he dipped his head down to your neck, where he started nipping at your skin, his hips working against you like a piston. He wanted you to cum around him, washing away every fear he ever had about not making you feel good. And you knew. You knew your boyfriend, and you knew what he was thinking. And as he started groaning and biting your earlobe, you couldn’t hold back anymore, almost screaming his name as you came for him once more.
Donnie moved both hands down to your hips, holding you still as he started chasing his own high, helping you ride out your own in the meantime. As he moaned louder and louder as he got close, his thrust became more and more erratic. Finally he came, pushing himself all the way into you as he shot out his white ropes, letting out a moan better than porn star you ever heard.
Once down from his high, Donnie pulled out of you, before slumping down next to you, sweaty and out of breath, his dick still out in the open.
He looked at you, his eyes tired yet full of love, making you feel warm in so many ways. “Was it good?”
“Are you crazy?”, you asked, smiling brighter than any stare Donnie had seen. “It was amazing, Donnie!”
Donnie chuckled, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close against his plastron, giving you a kiss before resting his forehead against yours once more, a smirk spreading on his pretty lips. “Does that mean you’re up for another around after a quick nap?”
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edenesth · 9 months ago
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The Way to His Heart [15]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16
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"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"
The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."
"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."
Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.
Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.
Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."
With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."
Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"
The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."
A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.
Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"
Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"
That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.
Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"
Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."
"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."
Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."
Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"
Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."
Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."
That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.
Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.
"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."
Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."
Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."
The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."
Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."
"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.
Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"
"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."
Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."
"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.
The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."
As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.
"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.
As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.
"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.
With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."
The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."
The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.
Well shit, that's not good at all.
"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.
Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.
Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.
San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.
What if reality's more than you could bear?
You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.
As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?
To hell with it.
Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."
He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.
Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"
San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."
You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."
So, it's true.
Your heart sank at the confirmation.
"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"
His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.
The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"
Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.
Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.
"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.
His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."
As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."
Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?
Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.
Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.
Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.
"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."
Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.
After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"
You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."
With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.
The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.
"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.
As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.
"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.
With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.
Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."
Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.
What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?
« Preview of Part 16 »
"General Park! Letters for General Park!"
The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"
"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"
Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."
Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"
The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."
Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."
As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.
However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.
'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'
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Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈
Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3
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crescenthistory · 7 days ago
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hii 🫶🏻🫶🏻!
im not sure if you've written for james potter before, but if you're up for it, could i request d5 with him? i thought like, reader is a slytherin and she fooled around with barty while she was with james. also not sure if you're okay with writing cheating, (feel free to ignore this is you're not!)
hi lovie! thank you for your request<3 i don't vibe with cheating storylines, but this inspired me to write a one-shot of james pining for reader but thinking she's with barty because they're such close friends. i hope that still scratches your itch!
Prompt: D.5 "But do you love me?" changed into "But you are in love with me?"
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin!reader (sassy/feisty), use of y/n, james pov which includes relentless pining and silly comments, genuine yearning, miscommunication, bsf!barty, slight jealousy/envy, some self-deprecation, background skittles rosekiller and dorlene
The Boy with the Glasses is Blind
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James could have kicked himself.
Despite what some professors insinuate, he is usually quite bright – he just so happens to prefer dedicating his intellect to good-willed humour and pranksting rather than gruelling essays that have already been written a thousand times before. He felt he had properly demonstrated his abilities for creativity and strategy with everything he had pulled off over the years, both the pranks he took credit for and the ones they were never able to pin on him.
Yet, here he was.
Sitting in the Transfiguration class shared by most Gryffindors and Slytherins in their year, where Professor McGonnagal in some horrific – in James' previous sentiments – attempt to bridge some gaps and mend some fences, seated a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together at every table. Sitting beside you, the one Slytherin he had never seemed to fully dislike nor target with his more insidious of pranks, but a Slytherin nonetheless, and attached at the hip with one Barty Crouch Junior.
Yes, here he was, sitting beside you and staring at you with what most look like cartoonish heart eyes.
It was not something he necessarily expected to happen, at least not to this extent. You had always held his interest, a fascinating person from who you were to how you spoke and where you placed yourself in society, but it was easily brushed off in the flurry of everything else that surrounded the young boy. In here, he couldn't escape you as easily, and once he realised just what he had been depriving himself of in his avoidance of you, he couldn't escape you even when you weren't around. To him, you were everywhere.
James Fleamont Potter was falling more head over heels in love with a Slytherin with every passing minute. Sirius would have kicked him blue and yellow had he dared open his mouth and voice what was running through his mind when he admired you. Though, James supposed, some of those thoughts were perhaps best never uttered out loud to anyone.
He really couldn't help himself, he thought, it was all your fault for being so sodding angelically flawless. From the first lesson when you playfully threatened him to "behave, Potter, and not soil my education with your unruliness" with that glimmer in your eyes that felt like it must have been reserved for him from a previous life, he has had to pick his jaw up from the floor whenever your eyes meet. The way you carried yourself with a lightheartedness and crackling self-assurance, the way your hair cascaded around you as you turned to him, the way your occasionally crude words towards him were softened by your exuberant tone, as if you took as much pleasure from your back-and-forth exchanges as he did, but with none of the guffawing – a stronger man would have faltered, and James had no qualms about admitting that for you, he was rather weak.
And then there was the way you grinned with your whole body whenever you spoke to your friends and your–
And therein lies the issue.
No gem can sparkle that brightly and not be picked up and admired. To anyone with eyes, let alone ears, it was painfully clear that one Barty Crouch Junior had already snatched up his Treasure, as he called you. James was too late.
The nickname felt tacky in James' mouth as he silently felt around it, trying to figure out what it would feel like to have you as he does. It felt too cheesy, not elegant enough for someone like you, not perfect enough, though James supposes nothing quite could be. Nor was he any better himself, angels and loves had already slipped from his tongue, only to be laughed away as a quip and not a confession – and he didn't even have the right to, not the way Junior did.
You were seated beside James, he could imagine himself feeling your body heat seeping through your clothes and into his if he inched even a centimetre or two closer to you. He could hear your laughter in his ears, he captured the smile in your eyes with his own as often as he could, but even here, within his direct vicinity, he saw the effect Barty had on you. How the two of you seemed to be able to communicate with limited words, mostly through glances and silly facial expressions from where he sat a few rows ahead, fully twisted in his chair to get a good look at you.
James couldn't blame him. It was how he wanted to turn around and stare at you whenever you were near him as well. That maniacal grin on Junior's lips was something James wanted to resent, but also wondered if he would be wearing himself, if he was allowed to brandish it on you.
Unlike Junior, though, he couldn't. James is not a jealous man, he felt he owed his father not to be, but there were few words to describe the sensation building in his throat other than envy. And, perhaps most painfully, a yearning so significant it ached its way through his bones until he was left pliable and broken.
"You with me, Potter?"
James' smile smacked right back onto his lips, albeit slightly more forced than normal as he forced his eyes away – from what he hoped seemed like Junior's general direction and not him specifically – to lock onto yours. There was a quizzical expression on your face and mirth playing over your lips, your soft, beautiful lips.
"Yeah," James made out hoarsely, clearing his throat. "Early mornin' s'all."
The mirth stretched out into a wide, teasing grin on your face, and although James was certain it was at his expense, it melted his own smile into a more genuine one. "Uh-huh. What's made you so tired? You're usually caffeine incarnated first thing in the morning."
"Are you saying you're missing my usual self, love?" Easy, easy, keep it easy.
"I'm saying you're suspicious," you replied with a gleam in your eyes. "Although, you always are. Perhaps it would be suspicious if you weren't behaving suspiciously."
James laughed a bit too loudly at that, warmth spreading in his stomach. "Don't go philosophical on me, L/N."
"I won't, if you don't go boring on me. Transfiguration's enough of a chore as it is."
Pride bloomed out of the spot envy inhabited in James' throat. Somehow he felt just as guilty for both of them, and was just as unable to suppress it as it flowed into his bloodstream.
"Well, when I know you're missin' me so, I can't very well let my best girl down, can I?"
"What a presumptuous young man," you say, words becoming a whisper as McGonnagal walks in to begin her lecture. Despite your smug smile as you said so, James couldn't help but feel slightly rattled at you pointing out the truth to him.
He righted himself in his seat and attempted to dedicate his attention to the Head of Gryffindor, which, unfortunately, he had never been good at even before his entire mind, body and soul seemed to be possessed by the stunner sitting beside him in class. His eyes kept darting over to you, smiling at your facial expressions, even more so when you occasionally caught his gaze with a smile of your own. A strand of hair fell out of your hairstyle as you cocked your head to look at him. James couldn't decide whether he wanted it to stay messy or if he wanted to be the one to tuck it back in for you. His hands remained drumming on the desk.
He attempted to focus up on the lecture, but poor Minnie's voice simply became droning to him when his nose was filled with the smell of you, making him slightly lightheaded. And Merlin, the way you were biting your lip while you took notes – it was an actual miracle he hadn’t melted into a puddle on the classroom floor by now.
Then, his attention was abruptly captured by a small piece of parchment whirring right past his face to force itself into your hand on the desk. You were shaking, smiling over the lip you were still biting as you opened it.
James – in a totally cool non-creepy fashion, of course – tried to get a good luck at the note, but couldn't without giving it away. What he definitely could tell, though, was how Junior was snickering at you over his shoulder like a hyena. Not the borderline scary snicker James had been victim of before, but a fond one, like you were sharing a secret together just the two of you.
Unable to watch more of your reaction, James looked back onto the desk, willing himself away.
You were never one to allow him reprieve, giving him a discreet poke with your wand. When he looked up, your head was in your hand and you were leaning your head sideways to look at him. “Daydreaming again, Potter?” you whispered.
His cheeks burned. “Not a chance,” he responded a bit too quickly, causing you to smile in delight as you leaned closer to him. His heart gave a particularly hard thud at that.
“Are you sure? Because you’ve been staring at my notes for a few minutes, and last I checked, you don’t even take notes. So it's clearly no ruse to copy me.”
“I take notes!" James tried to retort, but when you levelled him with a stare he just smiled indulgently at you instead. "Occasionally."
"Yeah, you're a total swot, babe," you laughed quietly, shooting McGonnagal a quick glance to make sure you're still being discreet.
He knows you're messing with him, he knows it's just colloquialism, but he would have paid embarrassing amounts for you to call him that again.
"Very well might be, you're quite contagious, angel." The slight snort that escaped you at that probably made his day.
“Uh-huh,” you said softly, for the second time that lesson. “Whatever you say, Gryffindor.”
By the grace of Godric, McGonagall dismissed class before James combusted like he thought he would. He exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived as his nerves shot up as you began to pack your stuff, knowing he won't see you again until dinner. Not that he had memorised your schedule, or anything.
He opened his mouth, hoping to think of something clever and smooth to keep your attention for even a second longer, when your usual company approached your shared desk. He heard Junior's laugh before he saw him, eyes still trained on you, and when he turned Barty, Dorcas and Evan had formed some circle around you, chattering away with a casualness he rarely witnessed up close.
“Tomorrow’s going to be incredible,” Dorcas exclaimed almost-giddily, pulling her scarf up around her neck. “I can't wait to let off some steam finally."
“Oh, I'm sure you will, Cas,” you replied teasingly, pointing a finger at her teasingly. "Asked a certain blonde to join you yet?"
"How about you mind your business, Missy?" She shot back trying to shove your face away, but you dodged, using James' arm as a shield. He felt like a mannequin the way he stood beside you, almost dumbly, frozen by the exchange.
Evan just snickered. “Good luck prying Barty away from the game section, he's still pissy about last time."
"You mean when he gambled away all–" Dorcas was shut up with a quick silencio from Barty, which she quickly fought through and stuck her tongue out at him for.
"Hearsay and goss, I tell you!" Barty declared, shoving Evan aside to come stand beside you, arm circling around your waist. "I almost didn't go this year, I'm only joining because Treasure here practically threatened me to."
"Yeah, how dare you even consider leaving me to the wolves," you retorted to him at the same time as Dorcas murmurs something about "yeah, didn't wanna go because you lost so bad".
"Nah, we can't have that," Barty agreed with you while shooting Dorcas a glare, and then he – to James' utter pain and heartbreak – pressed a kiss to the top of your head while squeezing your hip.
Nevermind that it was a quick kiss, nevermind that you laughed at him. James just saw lips against skin.
Now that Junior was basically cuddling you standing up (James wanted no corrections calling this description an exaggeration), James had gravitated further away from you. He may have lost his mind with this whole lovesickness, but he respected you, your choices and your space. With the way you were throwing your head back laughing with your friends about some plans James didn't even know about, he knew he was not wanted nor needed here.
Pulling his bag closer towards his body, he gave a quick nod to no one in particular and turned around, headed towards the door.
"James, wait up!"
Your voice cut through his mind's ramblings, as it always does, and your use of his first name brought flowers to his vision once more. He turned around, hoping to look mostly casual but he's sure his face was an open book. His eyes zeroed in on you walking towards him, leaving your group of friends and Junior behind, but he heard a telltale laughter and he hoped it wasn't at how stupidly in love he looked with someone he could never have.
James blinked at you in confusion as you stopped before him, but you just wore the simplest smile on your face.
“Want to take a walk with me?” you asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"What?" he asked dumbly.
There was mirth in your gaze when you repeated your question. "We both have a free period now, I usually spend it in our common room. But I'm asking if you want to take a walk with me instead?"
James had to physically restrain himself from replying "I know" when you disclosed your habit, while also wondering how and why you came to know his schedule.
He managed to sputter out a response. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He couldn’t quite stop the grin from spreading across his face, and he felt a bit like an overeager puppy, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked rather pleased, which only made his heart race faster.
"Enthusiasm gets you everywhere, Potter," you responded calmly, falling into step with him as you led him out of the classroom, leading him down the less-frequented hallways. The road less travelled by.
The two of you strolled down the corridor, side by side, with the chilly autumn breeze filtering through an open window. James wanted to say something witty, something that would make you laugh, but he was mostly in his head, confused about everything that transpired the past few minutes.
"What's that about the fair?" He decided that was safe territory, though he feared having you recount all your plans with Junior there.
"Oh, you have no idea," you started excitedly. James pretended it didn’t cut a bit that he had no idea. "It's this annual fair that Pandora – you know, Rosier – discovered back in fourth. It's got the weirdest, coolest booths and games you'll ever see, with performances from unique professionals. It usually changes every year, last time it was a fire manipulator and a necromancer."
Upon James' quirked brow at you finding fire and necromancy the coolest, you continued. "Come on, you Marauders would have loved it. There's prank ideas and props to last you for months. And there's great food as well."
"Okay, okay," James laughed as he maintained eye contact with you. "I believe you, sounds fun. I hope you guys enjoy it."
If James wasn't as bright as he was, he might have mistook the flash of emotion across your face as a small bout of uncertainty or insecurity.
"Actually, that's something I wanted to ask you about," you started, trailing off as you stopped by one of the larger windows in the hallway, leaning against the windowsill. He followed your example, attention wholly on you. "We have this tradition, my friends and I, that we use the fair as an opportunity to challenge ourselves in some way, do something that... I guess something that scares us."
James just nodded, keeping his attention on you as his heart beats in his chest. Your smile turned a bit rueful.
"That's actually what I was messing with Cas about earlier," you continued. "She's finally asking your friend Marlene out on a date, to go with her to the fair."
That's what you wanted to talk about? James admired you almost more for how dedicated you were to your friends.
"I can tell you without a doubt that Marls would say yes," he reassured you with a smile. "Those two have been a work in progress for ages."
"For so long, it's been physically painful to witness," you laughed. That sound is anything but painful to witness.
James hummed in response, laughter rumbling through his chest as he continued to take you in, scanning your face.
"What are you doing that scares you?" he asked before he could stop himself.
You took a deep breath, chin up in that almost defiant way as you held his gaze. "I'm actually following in Dorcas' footsteps... or I guess perhaps beating her to it, seeing as she hasn't yet."
James blinked at you, clueless as to what you're leading up to.
"I wondered if you wanted to go with me to the fair?"
He felt as if he had been slapped in the face and like he was coming up for air after a long snog. He didn't really know what he felt, just that it was a lot, too much, even for him.
"I'd love to," he blurted out with a breath, words scrambling together. Then, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand your sentence. "I mean– with me, are you sure? Aren't you going with, erm, with Junior?"
You gave him a puzzled look, cocking your head at him as if he had said something entirely irrelevant. "What do you mean?"
James looked sheepish and couldn’t quite meet your gaze over the sound of his own heart breaking. "I mean, it would be really nice to go with you to the fair, anywhere really, but wouldn't Junior mind?"
"Barty–" You cut yourself off, still looking confused. "Barty's the one who's been encouraging me to ask you out, actually. What are you on about?"
"Why?" was all James could breathe out, world unravelling in a way that made his stomach twist with painful hope.
"Um, because I like you? And unless I have suddenly lost all my interpretation skills, I am quite certain you've been fond of me for quite some time too, Potter."
"I am, but– wait– you are? What?" James guffawed. His intense confusion irritated his skin apparently because he had a sudden urge to scratch the back of his neck, his upper arms and pretty much any other piece of flesh. Maybe the embarrassment could be peeled off that way.
Despite it all, you laughed heartily and, what James was beginning to realise, bemusedly maybe even adoringly at his failure to speak. It seemed like you had pieced together everything he couldn't.
"Yeah, I like you, you sod. Think I just flirt with everyone?"
An "I hope not" lies on the tip of his tongue, but instead he shook his head in admonishment.
"Snake's got your tongue, babe?" you asked him, taking a taunting step closer.
"Looks like it," James mumbled, eyes zeroed in on your face as heat rose to his own. Growing bolder in your declaration, he continued, "I suppose I'm just confused. I always thought you were with Junior? That you two were... in love."
The last words brought a grimace to his lips, like it pained him to say. As if on instinct, your hand shot forward to wipe beneath his bottom lip to coax the frown off his face. His lips parted in shock and suspense at your touch and when you seemed to realise what you had done, you pulled your hand back quickly. You had the decency to look slightly flustered after that, allowing him some semblance of a more even playing field.
"No, James," you whispered with a smile as you shook your head. "Barty is my best friend and I love him with my whole heart. But I never have, and never will be in love with him. Him and Evan have been an item for, like, ages."
Finally, a brilliant smile – one you would later describe to him "shone like the sun" to which he attacked you with kisses because "that's so sodding cute of you to say, you sappy romantic" – took over his face.
Without thinking, he stepped closer to you, hand coming up to brush carefully against your cheek as you looked wide-eyed at his positivity and adoration now radiating off of him. "But you're in love with me?" he whispered with rapture, up to speed at last.
It took you a moment before you chuckled lightly, sheepishly looking down at your feet before once more meeting his piercing gaze.
"How about we start with that date, and see where it goes from there, huh pretty boy?"
So, yes, James most certainly could have and probably should have kicked himself – but right now, he found that he had other business he would much rather attend to.
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alotofpockets · 8 months ago
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The captain's sister | Mary Earps x Reader
Summary: Where your sister finds out you're dating Mary. [Requested]
A/n: Another birthday, another fic. Happy birtday Mary!
Woso masterlist | Words: 1k
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You were on your way to St. George's Park for another England camp with your Manchester United teammates Mary and Ella. It was your first camp since you and Mary started dating a few months ago, so Ella asked the question she couldn’t get out of her mind. “Did you tell Leah yet?” Most of your United teammates knew that the two of you were together, since you saw them day in and day out, but you hadn’t really told anyone outside of the team yet. “I have not, and I would appreciate it if you don’t tell her either.” You gave Ella a warning looking, knowing the girl was a bit of a blabbermouth. “Oh don’t worry about me, I haven’t even told Less.” That actually did reassure you, because Ella and Alessia shared everything. “I think you should be more worried about her accidentally seeing the two of you together, it’s like you’re conjoined at the hip or something.” You rolled your eyes at her comment, “You’re just sad that Joe can’t come to camp with us.”
After arriving at camp, you hung out with your teammates a bit, before heading to your assigned rooms. You were overjoyed when you found out that you were rooming with your girlfriend, knowing that at least at the end of every day, you could be close to her, and fall asleep in her arms. Knowing that you would be spending most of the day by putting some distance between the two of you, you were soaking up some girlfriend time with some cuddles in bed. You were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Mary called out. “Tooney.” Ella responded. “It’s open, Tooney, come in.” Since it was just Ella, you made no effort to move out of Mary’s comfort. The door opened and Ella came walking in, only she wasn’t alone, your eyes widened as a blonde followed her in.
“This is what I missed after leaving United?” Alessia looks at the two of you tangled up together. “Surprise.” Mary jokes, but she quickly wipes the smile off her face when she realises that you don’t find it funny. “Don’t you dare joke about this, Earps. Now two of the three most chatty people on the team know about us.” You put your head in your hands, “Leah is so going to find out.” Alessia sits down on the empty bed, “So, Mary, the captain’s sister, huh?” Mary keeps her mouth shut after the warning look you sent her way. “Is that all I am now, Russo?” You were fully joking of course, Leah might be the captain of the Lionesses, but not once were you seen as any less of a player than she was by your teammates. 
Your plan to put some distance between the two of you during camp was a nice thought, but as Ella had expected, the two of you stuck together like a pair of magnets. Sitting together in the dining hall, spotting each other in the gym, and partnering up for drills. Leah wasn’t suspicious of any of that thought, because the two of you had played together at United for years. 
After one of your many training sessions with the team, Mary pulled you into one of the empty physio rooms. She closes the door behind you and lifts you onto the massage table. “Baby, what are you doing?” Mary smiles at you innocently, “Kiss my girlfriend, because I missed her.” You looked at the door worriedly, “Relax, no one is going to come in here.” After a few seconds of thinking it over, you decided that she was probably right, so you pulled her closer to you and kissed her. 
Leah was in the hallway talking with Keira when she saw you enter one of the physio rooms out of the corner of her eyes. She instantly worried that something had happened during training, so when her conversation with Keira was done, she went over to check on you. “Hey, is everythi-” Leah stopped mid-sentence when she saw you making out with Mary. “What is going on here?” Her worried voice quickly made way for her stern captain’s voice. You knew that Mary could stand her ground but when your sister made big steps towards the keeper, you quickly hopped off the massage table and got in between them. “Leah, I can explain.” She pushed you aside easily, “You don’t have to explain.” She moved towards Mary and jabbed a finger to her chest, “I want you to explain why you are kissing my sister.” 
Mary looked between the two Williamson siblings, not really knowing that the right explanation would be in Leah’s eyes. You stepped in and pulled your sister away from Mary. “Leah, calm down please. The explanation for why she was kissing me, is because she is my girlfriend.” Now it was Leah’s turn to look between the two of you, everything started to sink in. The way the two of you had seemed so close during camp, now suddenly making more sense. 
Leah’s features softened, “You know you could’ve told me, right? I’m happy for you.” You smiled, “Thank you Lee.” But her soft features quickly changed back when she looked over to Mary. “If you hurt her, I will make sure your career is over, do you understand?” You roll your eyes, “Lee, back off, she is not going to hurt me.” She looks between the two of you again, “Oh god, you’re rooming together this camp.” Your eyes widened, “Don’t you dare.” There was a sparkle in Leah’s eyes that didn’t promise anything good. “I am the captain, I can change the rooming situation however I see best fit.” With that Leah left the room. You run after her, “Please, Leah don’t do this.” Moving past a confused Ella and Alessia, who start to snicker when they see Mary leave the same room the two of you just emerged from. “Told you so.” Ella says to Mary. “It was always going to be the two of you getting caught.”
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vroomvro0mferrari · 23 days ago
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LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 5
Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)
WC: 3.9K
Warnings: only mentions of sex/sexual insinuations this time
Part 1 | Part 4 | Masterlist | Part 6
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Lando had completely forgotten about the night before when he woke up, surprised to feel the warmth of something pressed against him. His eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the bright morning light shining through the curtains. It took a moment to register the weight resting on his chest, but when he glanced down and was met with a familiar head of hair nestled against his shoulder, everything came back to him.
Y/N was still curled up beside him, her arm draped over his torso, while her soft, steady breath repeatedly brushed his neck. His heart skipped a beat at the sight, barely daring to move. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed as she lay in his arms. He had never expected this as one of the outcomes of his vacation – to have his longtime crush cuddled up to him while she slept.
He checked the time on his phone with his free hand, realising that breakfast would be served for only one more hour. He lay still, wondering what to do. He didn’t want to break her peaceful resting state, but he should wake her up, right? She’d be upset if she’d miss breakfast, and he couldn’t go down to get her something without waking her up anyway.
He ran a hand through her hair a few times, scratching her scalp in the hope it’d wake her up. She stirred a bit in response, so Lando continued – they had some time, he reasoned. Besides, he wanted to make the most of the moment, this probably wouldn’t happen again anytime soon. He wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning; Y/N right next to him when he awakens, and cuddling before getting up for the day. 
After a few more minutes of playing with her hair, Y/N seemed to have woken up. She sighed before snuggling closer to Lando, burying her face in his torso as she pulled the duvet tighter. Lando smiled at her reaction, and kept scratching her head while she remained blissfully unaware of what – or rather, who – she was cuddling up to. 
She remained like that for a while, completely unaware of the situation she had gotten herself into. Eventually, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, her groggy brain not fully awake yet. She blinked a few times but didn’t move, enjoying how warm and comfortable she felt. The realisation came slowly; she was resting against something firm, and—what was that in her hair?
Her breath hitched, and she froze in place. Lando could feel her body tense against him, and he knew the moment was over. She slowly shifted her head to look at him, eyes darting up to see Lando staring down at her with a small smile. She was horrified to find out that not only had she asked him to keep her warm last night, she had cuddled up to him all night, and snuggled even closer while he was awake.
“Morning,” Lando said softly, his voice low, running his hand through her hair one last time.
Y/N’s eyes widened, and she shot up from his chest as if it burned her, her face flushing a deep shade of red. “Oh my God,” she muttered under her breath, quickly untangling herself from the duvet and scrambling to sit up. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t realise. I was—”
Lando chuckled at her frazzled state, Y/N’s wild eyes matching her hair (entirely his fault).
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow.
Y/N’s face burned red as she combed through her hair, trying to make herself more presentable. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” She mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
Lando shrugged, a gentle smile on his face. “You seemed comfortable. I was too, I didn’t mind,” he said in a soft tone.
He stared at her in her disgruntled state. God, she was adorable. He loved it when she was like this; all shy and nervous. He didn’t get to see it often – although this was already the second time in a few days – but when he did, he just wanted to scoop her up, protect her, and reassure her. He had lied to Max yesterday, he didn’t just like her. He was quite sure he had fallen in love with her already.
“Well, I mind,” she mumbled. “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you last night—”
“It’s okay, Y/N. Really. I already told you I don’t mind.”
She sighed. “This never happened,” she declared, trying to regain some control over the situation.
Lando’s grin widened. “Sure,” he agreed, “but if you get cold again tonight, you know where to find me.” 
Y/N was mortified at what she had done, and Lando’s teasing didn’t make it any better. She watched as Lando got out of bed and stepped into the bathroom. She tried to wrap her head around the situation now that she was alone. She couldn’t believe she had actually willingly asked Lando to hold her – it was so humiliating. But then again, she was so comfortable and warm when she woke up, and he smelled good too. No, she needed to banish those thoughts out of her head immediately. 
Her face was still red when Lando got out of the shower, or maybe it turned red again when she saw him shirtless, she wasn’t entirely sure. Anyhow, it was obvious and Lando noticed straight away, a cheeky grin forming on his face at her flustered state and the way she tried (and failed) to hide her staring.
“The shower’s free.”
“Hm? Yes, thank you,” she mumbled, quickly scurrying into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
“You should hurry up though, breakfast will be over soon,” Lando shouted through the bathroom door. 
The two got ready quickly, and headed downstairs to get some food before eleven a.m. Y/N immediately pulled Pietra aside with the excuse of getting drinks when they reached the hotel restaurant.
“I desperately need your opinion later,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot.
“Why? What happened?”
“I can’t tell it all right now, it’s too much for the short moment we have, but let’s say I completely embarrassed myself last night and this morning,”
“You’re making me very curious. I’m sure whatever you did can’t be that bad.”
“Ha!” Y/N exclaimed, “you’ve no idea.”
“Well, Max and I thought we could all go to the beach today because of the change of plans earlier this week. I’m sure you’ll have enough time to tell me all about it then.” Pietra sent her a reassuring smile as they walked back to the table with their tea.
Y/N nodded in agreement, only to accidentally make eye contact with Lando as she glanced over to the table. He was already seated, an eyebrow raised in suspicion as he observed the hushed conversation. She blushed under his watchful eye, as he sent her a cheeky, knowing smile in return – he knew exactly what she and Pietra had been talking about.
Flustered, Y/N sank into her seat beside Lando while the group discussed today’s plans. Meanwhile, Lando remained cool and unbothered, as if nothing unusual had happened that night. He was far too relaxed, smiling teasingly at her whenever they made eye contact and nonchalantly resting his arm on her chair – it only made her more self-conscious about the situation; why was she so rattled when he appeared completely unaffected?
“So, a beach day then?” Max suggested, leaning back in his chair.
“Definitely,” Lando confirmed, his eyes flicking over to Y/N briefly, but she was far too preoccupied with her thoughts. The mention of the beach triggered a fresh wave of panic – beach day meant shirtless Lando. If she couldn't handle a brief glimpse of him this morning, how was she supposed to survive a whole day with him half-naked in front of her? Her stomach churned at the thought, the nerves already creeping in.
They soon finished their breakfast and headed up to their rooms to collect their things for the beach. Y/N double-checked her bag – sunblock, towel, sunglasses, something to distract herself from Lando? Check. – before Lando strolled back into the room. 
“Are you ready?” He asked her, casually watching her from the doorframe. His eyes slowly looked her over, staring at the shape of her body that shone through the thin cover-up she was wearing. She looked over the room to see if she’d missed anything, an endeared smile coming over Lando’s features as he watched her. Her adorable habit of checking everything repeatedly was something new he learned about her this vacation. “Don’t forget your swimsuit, yeah?” He told her teasingly.
Her head shot up at the comment. “You know I’ve already got that on, Lando.”
“Just making sure,” he said, raising his hands in surrender, the mischief in his eyes clearly visible. When she finally scooped up her bag, Lando led them downstairs and to the car, where Pietra and Max were already settled in. Lando’s hand once again found its place on her back, lightly resting there as he gently guided her across the street to the car. It seemed almost like a routine for Lando; whenever Y/N would step a foot off the curb, his hand would rise to her back, as if she couldn’t cross the street on her own. Despite how much it annoyed her, it felt nice—warm and familiar, and she had to resist the urge not to lean into his comforting touch.
Lando didn’t let go of her until they reached the car, where he opened the door with a flourish. “M’Lady,” he said, dipping his head in a playful bow as he gestured for her to get in. Y/N rolled her eyes at his unnecessary antics, but climbed in the car. Lando took her bag from her to put in the trunk, and softly closed the door once she was settled. She was at a loss for words for his behaviour. He had apparently taken up the role of a gentleman again, just like on their date—no, not a date, the day they spent alone, without Max and Pietra.
Lando joined her in the back seat not much later, taking the middle seat, leaving barely any space between the two of them. She cocked a brow as he buckled himself in and leant back in his seat.
“What are you doing?” She asked him.
He looked at her in surprise. “Getting in the car?” He responded confusedly and Y/N rolled her eyes at the obvious answer.
“Why are you sitting so close to me? Need attention, do you?” 
Lando scoffed. “Hardly. Didn’t have to beg for your touch last night, did I?”
Y/N immediately flushed red at the insinuation, making eye contact with Pietra through the mirror. Pietra raised a brow at Lando’s words, intrigued at what he was hinting at but didn’t say anything – she would hear all about it soon enough.
“I’m just sitting here so I can see where we’re going,” Lando explained in response to her silence.
“Right,” Y/N said, embarrassed at herself. Of course, he was only sitting there for the view. Why had she immediately thought there was an ulterior motive? Yet, when Max turned onto a gravel road, she couldn’t help but be suspicious of Lando’s reasoning; at every small bump on the road his knee or arm brushed against hers. The mischievous smile that tugged at his lips at whenever they touched wasn’t just her imagination, was it?
She shook the thought from her head, instead concentrating on keeping her body as steady, and as far away from Lando as possible. It was useless; every time she scooched closer to the door to avoid his touch, Lando just spread his legs a little wider. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he merely seemed amused, as if he was driving her crazy on purpose.
She was so focused on staying away from him that she hadn’t seen the particularly deep pothole coming – the pothole Max had driven over just a little too fast. Y/N was launched off her seat, nearly hitting her head on the roof. In a reflex, she reached out, her hand tightly gripping Lando’s thigh to steady herself. The heat rushed to her cheeks as she quickly tried to pull away, but Lando had already caught her arm, his hand lingering as he steadied her.
“Are you okay?” He asked her sincerely.
Y/N nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry about that,” she mumbled, mortified, her face still burning as she avoided his gaze.
“Guess I’m not the only one who needs attention, hm?” He teased.
Y/N groaned, yanking her arm out of his grip. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, crossing her arms and looking out the window. She hoped that looking away would calm the fluttering in her chest, but it did nothing – not when she could still feel his presence so close to her. It made it impossible to focus on anything else.
When the car finally came to a stop, Y/N practically bolted out, desperate for some distance and space to think. She walked in front while they searched for a spot to lay down their towels. When she looked back to ask the group’s opinion, she saw Lando had already taken his shirt off. Her face heated up at the sight, and her words dried on her lips. Instead, she stood still, eyes shamelessly focused on Lando’s torso. He was so handsome; toned yet lean, and his strong, muscled arms… 
It didn’t take long for Lando to catch her staring. His lips curved into a knowing smirk, a playful glint in his eyes when they met hers. Her trance shattered under his gaze, and she scrambled to recall what she’d been thinking about. “Uh… is here good?” She stuttered out, her voice not as steady as she would’ve liked.
The others quickly agreed, and set up their things. As Y/N spread out her towel, she couldn’t help but steal glances at Lando walking toward the water. His broad back and toned shoulders glistened under the sun, muscles shifting with every step. God, how was it possible that he looked good from every possible angle?
“Y/N?” Pietra interrupted her thoughts. 
“Hm? What did you say?” Y/N asked, her attention not fully on Pietra yet.
“You wanted to share something with me? You were desperate, I believe you said?” Pietra said with a smirk.
“Oh, yes!” She said, suddenly much more alert. “Did you see what he did? His hand on my back? And then in the car? Why does he keep touching me?” 
Pietra smirked. ”We’re talking about Lando, right?” Y/N nodded. “Girl, I already told you. I think he’s into you.”
“It’s so annoying. Nothing affects him, he’s always so calm and, like… confident. Meanwhile, I’m blushing like a schoolgirl.”
Pietra raised an eyebrow at the admission. “Why do you blush?”
“I don’t know,” Y/N exclaimed, “because,” she paused, thinking about her answer. “I don’t know.”
Pietra smiled knowingly. “I think you do,” she suggested gently. Y/N did, she just didn’t want to admit it, not when she knew better than Pietra; that Lando didn’t like her back, that it was just teasing. “Now, spill the tea. What stupid and embarrassing thing did you do last night and this morning,” Pietra continued.
Y/N groaned. “Oh my God. It was so bad. First, I spilled water all over my pyjamas when I opened a new bottle, and of course, because I’m stupid, I didn’t bring any extra pyjamas. So I had to borrow a shirt of Lando’s to sleep in. But then, because it was so cold in the room – I told you about the broken air-conditioning right?” Pietra nods. “Right, so it was very cold, especially because I didn’t have any pants on, and then, my stupid ass, asked Lando – oh God, it’s so embarrassing.” She hid her face in her hands. “I asked Lando to hold me because I was cold. Or well, I didn’t ask him directly, but that’s what it came down to.”
“Really? You cuddled? Willingly?” Pietra commented.
“Well, yes. But that’s not the worst part, the worst part was this morning. When I woke up we were still cuddled up, and I cuddled even closer. I was basically lying on top of him and I didn’t even realise it. It was so embarrassing, P. I just wanted to dig a hole all the way to China.”
Pietra laughed at her dramatics. 
“But he’s been so casual about it, like it’s no big deal at all, and I’m just so humiliated.”
“Well, what did he say when you woke up?”
“Good morning.”
“And after that?”
Y/N sighed. “Not to worry about it, and that he didn’t mind.”
“Alright. So he probably doesn’t care, so there’s no need to be embarrassed. If anything, he probably loved it – he likes you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Y/N protested, wildly shaking her head.
“Come on, Y/N,” Pietra said, rolling her eyes. “He’s always flirting with you—” 
“That’s teasing, not flirting,” Y/N interjected.
“—and the way he looks at you, didn’t you see it at breakfast? He’s always making love eyes at you. And he’s constantly touching you… All the signs are there, he’s not even hiding it.”
Y/N frowned. Could Pietra be right? No. Lando was just teasing her all the time, mocking her – that wasn’t flirting. And the eyes thing, he was just provoking her, challenging her. But sometimes, like two days ago, it did seem like he liked her a little bit. Maybe teasing was just his way of flirting? 
“Think about it,” Pietra said, tapping Y/N’s leg before laying back down to enjoy the sun. 
Y/N nodded absentmindedly, already going over all the questions running through her mind. What Pietra said didn’t make sense though; Lando didn’t care about what happened last night and if he liked her, he would be nervous too, right? He was just being cocky, happy that he had managed to humiliate her once more. There was no way that Lando liked her. Y/N, however, was slowly forming a crush on him and it was no good – not when Lando didn’t like her back. She would have to see him for the rest of her life; because of his friendship with her brother, he’d always be around. She couldn’t handle an unrequited crush when she had to see him so often. Never mind if he did like her back (which he didn’t); it would ruin Lando’s friendship with Max and she couldn’t and wouldn’t be the cause of that. Her mind was set; she needed to get him out of her head and stop this before it became worse.
She grabbed her book from her bag, hoping it would clear her mind. The weather was nice and the sun shone brightly on the paper, providing the perfect lighting for reading. It took her mind off her crazy thoughts, until, after a while, Y/N suddenly noticed a shadow on her book, and then a few droplets of water dripping onto the pages. She pulled it away quickly, already knowing the cause without having to look.
“Reading your romance novel?” Lando asked teasingly, smiling brightly as he looked down at her.
“It’s not a romance novel—and move over, you’re blocking my light and dripping onto my book,” she said, eyes focused on her book. She couldn’t face him, she needed to reel in her crush and looking at him while he was shirtless wouldn’t help.
Lando, however, was not happy with the lack of eye contact. “Hey,” he said, hoping to catch Y/N’s attention.
“What?” She mumbled, continuing to read the book, hoping he would disappear soon.
Lando pulled it out of her hands seconds later. “What are you doing?” She asked, groaning in frustration. “I don’t know what page I’m on.”
“You should look at people when they’re talking to you. They might think you’re rude if you don’t,” he said, the teasing tone still evident. However, his smile had slipped. Why did she seem annoyed with him?
Y/N looked up at Lando, finally giving him the eye contact he wanted. She tried to focus on his face, but she couldn’t help but notice how good he looked; shirtless and sun-kissed while his wet curls sat messily on his head. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid.
“You already know I’m rude,” she retorted sharply, trying to hide the effect Lando’s presence had on her. Maybe he would leave her alone if she was crass, that would be better than him being so close.
He sighed in frustration at her curt response. “So, what? We’re back to square one now? I thought we were finally getting along.”
Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. She looked away, hoping he would just disappear.
“You asked me to hold you, remember? I don’t think I made fun of you for it, so why are you being like this?” Lando said softly, ensuring Max and Pietra wouldn’t hear – although the irritation was evident in his voice.
He thought that after last night, he had finally broken through the walls she’d put up; that maybe she liked him. You wouldn’t ask just anyone to hold you, right? Or fall asleep in just anyone’s arms? So then why was she pulling away now? It wasn’t fair to blame him when he had only done what she asked for. It had taken him so long to get her to warm up to him, for her to open up, and now that he had finally gotten close she was shutting him out again. It was maddening. He needed to understand where he stood; whether she liked him or not, because, frankly, her behaviour was becoming very tiresome.
Nevertheless, Y/N remained quiet at the confrontation. She knew he was right, he hadn’t done anything wrong and maybe she was being unreasonable, but she wasn’t sure how to handle a situation like this. She didn’t want to embarrass herself any further, and admitting that she was being ‘like this’ because she liked him definitely seemed like the worst possible option. Lando sighed at her silence and forcefully pushed the book back into her hands before walking back to the water.
Y/N bit her lip as she stared after him. She had just upset Lando. She didn’t think it was possible, he always took everything she gave him gracefully; he laughed every mean and rude comment away like it was nothing. She hadn’t expected her silence to be the thing to set him off, she hadn’t meant to upset him and she felt selfish for hurting him to protect herself. Her heart stung with guilt at the sad look on his face, one she’d hoped never to see regardless of the frenemy thing they had going. She couldn’t believe she was the cause of it.
– – – – –
Part 6
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kalims · 9 months ago
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Hi, there! :D
I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.
I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)
Type: Headcanons
Reader: Neutral
Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?
I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD
If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .
whisk away
premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.
characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil
note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)
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silver
has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!
fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?
last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?
someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.
just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.
"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."
gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.
kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.
jade
take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!
jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.
and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.
student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.
so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.
with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.
well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.
oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...
*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*
deuce
I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.
unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?
oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?
he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!
almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.
"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)
if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.
don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!
kalim
gasps loudly. "noooo!"
which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)
bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.
now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.
lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.
"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)
he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.
drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...
vil
what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.
although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.
so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.
what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*
don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.
plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.
who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.
frets over you right after. living the dream.
721 notes · View notes
chasingpj · 2 years ago
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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞
"Hi, my name's Nico!"
pairing: platonic!nico di angelo x older sister reader
summary: you found your pugsley addams
warnings: brief mention of injury, grieving a family member
category: one-shot but not really
a/n: this is probably awful but do i need to fulfil my big sister urge to protect our beloved nico? yes. yes i do. i got this idea listening to Here With Me by d4vd, if you want something to listen while reading <3
“Hi, my name is Nico!”
Tousled dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a toothless grin, and a squeaky voice. Strangely, he doesn’t cower at your eyes, sizing him up. Either he doesn’t care or he’s clueless to your judgment. You're sure it’s the latter. 
How could this tiny boy, with too much life in his eyes, and too much excitement in his voice be a child of Hades? Considering your father’s exciting track record with children, this wasn’t what you were expecting when Chiron mentioned you had a brother moving in soon.
He’s just so… lively. 
The blinding daylight outside poured through your agape curtains and it surrounded his small frame like a giant halo. 
The sight was violent.
It gave you a headache. 
“What’s your name?” He waits antsy for your answer and you debate on even giving him one. 
Father told you he didn’t have any living children besides you. Considering the boy in front of you, it was a lie, or he had forgotten about him. Either way, you plan on arguing about it later. 
How dare he give you a roommate. Let alone a roommate barely in the double digits. This boy could have a tantrum today, and you didn’t sign up for babysitting.
“My side.” Your fingers point to the left of the cabin which is furnished with a bed, shelves, a desk, and a nightstand you got shipped to camp. “Your side.” 
Lazily, you point to the right. The lone bunk bed that initially occupied the space is tucked there, ready for the roommate you never thought would arrive. 
After three years, you had debated on getting rid of it, maybe donating it to the Hermes cabin. Gods know they need it but you guess keeping it was the right choice. 
“Inside voice only. No laughing, no whining, no groaning, no screaming, and especially, no crying.” 
The boy’s face falters into a slight frown. Your unblinking, emotionless face had settled into his awareness. For the first time since he’s arrived, he looks down at his feet. “Okay.” 
Your vision follows his movements as the boy retreats to his side of the room. His suitcase drags across the floor, making a wretched sound and it shoots irritation straight into your chest. 
Harsh words threaten to spill from your lips but they get caught at the back of your throat.
At least he’s compliant, you consider. Better bubbly and compliant than bubbly and stubborn. 
★・・・・・・★
“Psst.”
Did you imagine it? The sound was so faint and quick, you weren’t sure if it even happened. 
Voices in passing weren’t foreign to you. The occasional energy likes to linger around. 
If it was that, you refused to spare a single movement to signal you heard anything at all. A bothersome ghost wasn’t really in your plans tonight. 
There wasn’t a twitch in your face or a pause in your breathing that gave you away. And as you do every night, you remain laid on your back, hands lightly folded and rested in the middle of your stomach. 
“PSST.” 
Great. 
The second time was filled with so much urgency you couldn’t conclude it as a trick of the ear. Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. And it wasn’t from the possibility that when opening your eyes, you may find an entity looming over you. Honestly, you wished that’s what you were expecting. At least then, you’d be more interested. 
But no, you knew the sound came from no one other than the pest who sleeps across the room. Even now, you are fully aware of his small presence beside your bed. 
You had to give him credit. At no point did you hear him approach.
A silent stride just like yours? Maybe you actually are related. 
“What?”
Nico tenses up, his hand flings back to his side. He was just questioning if you were even alive, judging from your barely rising chest. Not sure what to do after your lack of response, he thought giving you a little poke would get a reaction but from your tone just now, he was glad he didn’t get to test that out. “T-the statue…” Nico didn’t dare look over, gaze set on your blank face. “What about it?” “It blinked.” 
Nico rubs his sweaty palms on his pajama pants, feeling the looming presence of Hades's statue. 
The past few nights, while lying in his bed, he kept returning to the same conclusion. He couldn’t be the only one who thought sleeping in a room with a giant statue was kinda creepy. 
Sure, it was just stone, but at times, it felt like it was looking at him. He thought he was just imagining it at first. Bianca did say he had a habit of spooking himself out but it didn’t stop him from sleeping with the sheets over his head. 
Tonight, however, amongst the deliriousness of waking up, he made the mistake of looking over. His vision was hazy, but he was sure of what he saw. The statue had blinked. Clean and quick as if it was supposed to do that. It was more than he’s ever seen you blink, and he’s been with you for almost a week. 
“It does that sometimes.”  
“What?” Nico’s voice was laced with so much emotion you could imagine what face he was making. Behind your eyelids, you envisioned the scared face Mr. D made you identify recently in therapy. It was so comedic to you, you almost smiled. 
“Go back to sleep.” A whine immediately leaves Nico’s lips, and your hand moves up, arm bent at the elbow, your pointer finger in the air. “No whining.” “But—” “Still whining,” you point out, and Nico remains quiet for a moment. Taking consideration of his silent movements earlier, you assumed he retreated to bed, but as he cleared his throat, you wished you could roll your eyes with them closed. 
“I’m scared.”  
“And what do you want me to do about that?” 
“I don’t know. When I’m scared, my sister—” 
“I’m not your sister.” 
Nico frowns but remains in his spot unmoving. As the seconds passed, your awareness of his presence started to irk you.
“Ugh.” 
The tired glare on your face makes Nico cower, and you sling your legs to the side. Another sigh leaves you and you march over to his side of the room. He waits as you rip the fitted sheet from the top bunk and throw it over the statue. 
“There. Happy? He can’t stare at you if he can’t see you.” 
“Now it just looks like a ghost,” Nico shifts, fear still on his face.
There’s a smack as your palm meets your forehead. A child of Hades scared of a ghost? You were about to tell him to get used to it but before you can nag him an idea graces your mind. 
Quickly, you walk over to your desk, hands searching for a black marker. Once in your grasp, you drag a chair to the stone and stand on it. 
Two circles for the eyes and one smiling open mouth. 
Moving away to see your drawings, you decide it was a refreshing sight compared to the usually stoic face of the god. 
“Better?” you ask, tone still bored as you cap the marker.
Nico’s eyes light up, a smile growing wide on his face. Who would be scared of a happy ghost? He nods brightly, and you make your way down, eyes rolling at the entire situation. “Go to sleep,” you command, and Nico nods, more willing than he was a few minutes ago. As you both return to the covers, the boy glances across the room one more time. “Good night,” he calls, and you stare at him for a moment. 
He always says it despite you never saying it back. Under your gaze, he waits expectantly, but it never returns. Just as every night, you lie down without a word. 
★・・・・・・★
Capture the flag isn’t your cup of tea. 
In the summers, you never participated. The bright sun, the humidity, it all made you want to claw your skin off. 
Usually, you get out of it but Mr. D pointed out there was no reason not to participate since most of what you hate about it isn’t a problem this time of year. One comment from him and Chiron takes it upon himself to ensure you attend. 
You hated it. 
Forced to strategize with Thalia and Percy, you are reminded the weather wasn’t the only thing you despised. It was dealing with everyone else too.
"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You take defense."
"Oh." Percy hesitated. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"
"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you've had more
practice at defense. What do you think, Y/n?” 
Your gaze flickers between the two waiting expectantly for your opinion. 
The tension between them has been something else since they’ve come back from retrieving Nico and losing Annabeth in the process. It’s not like there wasn’t any tension before but right now, you can smell the power struggle and it stinks. 
“I don’t care. Argue amongst yourselves.” 
With that, you turn on your heels, looking for the boy who surprisingly isn’t standing behind you like a shadow. Your eyes search the crowd for a few seconds until you spot what looks like a pile of floating armor next to the Stoll’s. 
A small sigh leaves your lips. Whoever gave him that definitely is setting him up and judging by the poorly contained laughs of the Stoll’s, you can guess who’s rooting for Nico’s downfall. 
The boy, painfully unaware of this, just beams at you, too excited for the game ahead. Lazily, you make your way towards him and immediately, he’s bouncing happily, his mouth ready to bombard you with questions. 
Your palm rises before he could and he freezes, obeying your silent command. “You need to tighten that.” 
He looks down at himself, his helmet swinging down into his eyes and he struggles to pull it away. “Which part?” 
“All of it,” you snap. The sadness that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t have affected you but you straightened up, closing your eyes to recollect yourself. “We’ll get you better armor afterward.” 
Nico nods, gaze softening as you adjust the straps of his armor. You tug on them as much as you can, jerking the boy left to right with the movement. 
Once every strap couldn’t be tightened anymore, you step back to take a look. It didn’t do much but at least his plate is snug against his chest.
“Okay kid, stay out of the way and be careful with that thing.” Nico looks down at his sword, which is probably too heavy for him. “We need to get you another weapon too. Gods, who did your orientation?” 
Nico points over at the Stoll’s who are occupied with other campers. Sending a glare in their direction you huff, “Of course.” 
"Heroes!" Chiron calls, swiftly getting everyone’s attention. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"
“Do I get magic items!?” Nico screeches causing you to cringe. Whipping your gaze in his direction, he cowers sheepishly, his eyes filled with hesitant apology.  “No. Remember what I said. Stay—” “Stay out of the way and be careful with my sword.” Nico finishes your sentence and he smiles at the evident distaste in your expression. 
Your eyes flicker along his frame. “And don’t get hurt.” 
★・・・・・・★
Nico, to no one’s surprise, got hurt. 
Honestly, you couldn’t be upset at him, it’s not his fault he got caught in a spell cast. 
A certain Circe camper did a fine job at missing her every target, leaving Nico standing in the outfield like a giant bullseye. The force alone sent him back a few feet and he slid across the field like a rag doll for a few more feet afterward.
As he lay there limp in shock, you genuinely thought he died. Before you could wield the ground to swallow up his attacker, he groaned and stumbled back on his feet. 
Lucky for her, disappointing for you. You haven’t gotten around to doing that trick in a while. 
“Well, you definitely have blunt force trauma injuries, everywhere,” Fletcher says, removing his hands from Nico’s abdomen. The boy reclined in the cot flinches at the bruises already forming along his ribs. 
It looked pretty bad. So much so that you decided it would be cruel to tell him to stop crying.
“But you don’t have internal bleeding in your lungs so at least you won’t drown in your own life source.” 
Despite the smile Fletcher flashes at Nico, it doesn’t affect the look of horror on his face. 
“Nothing Ambrosia and Nectar can’t fix. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Fletcher helps the small boy sit up in the cot. He passes him a small cup of Nectar and orders him to drink up while he gets what he needs for the sling Nico’s arm will be in for a little bit. 
A sniffle leaves the boy as he observes the drink he’s left with. “What does it taste like?” “It depends on the person,” you sit back in your chair. “Usually tastes like something nostalgic, a favorite food or drink. You won’t know until you try it.” 
Nico nods, hesitantly taking a sip. As the flavors settle on his tongue, his eyes progressively widen. Next thing you know, he’s swallowing it like he hasn’t had a meal in days. 
“It tastes like the almond cookies they had at the Lotus Casino!” 
You nod in response, having some memory of Nico telling you about the Casino he and his sister lived at for a while. He’s told you plenty about it, you just weren’t listening most of the time. 
“I liked those the most because it reminded me of the cookies my mom would buy us.” 
Nico looks down at the cup, his smile faltering by the second. There’s a shadow clouding over his orbs and you quirk an eyebrow. The sadness overtaking his features looked strange. Sure you’ve seen him upset but you knew enough to recognize this expression as anguish. 
“What is it?” Your words came out more monotone than you intended. Shifting in your seat, you wondered why you even asked. Vulnerability wasn’t really something you sought after. It puts a bad taste in your mouth. 
“I was just wondering if Bianca would taste the same thing… but she never ate the cookies with me.” 
A hum leaves your lips. You don’t know much about that sister of his but you knew two things: first, you were here while he was hurt and she wasn’t. Second, her absence made Nico upset. 
“I understand.” Your vision is set on the small window beside you. Set on the fields of campers ahead, you ignore Nico’s burning stare. “I don’t like the taste of my nectar or ambrosia.” “Why?” “The flavors remind me too much of things I want to forget. Your sister probably didn’t eat those cookies for the same reason. It’s too much. Too many things tied to the things you like the most.” 
Nico’s silent, staring at the paper cup in his hands as if he was searching for something. 
“Nico, there’s one thing you need to know.” He averts his gaze over to you. “You’ll make friends, you’ll have lovers, you’ll have family but at the end of the day, the only person you truly have is yourself.” 
The boy shifts in his place, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t let people steal parts of yourself from you. They’re going to disappoint you, expect it, and don’t be sad about it.” 
Silence followed somber and stuffy silence. For once, you were glad Fletcher returned in all of his child of Apollo gleam. He was better at cheering Nico up than you were, that’s for sure. 
★・・・・・・★
“What do you mean ‘He’s gone?’” Percy slowly retreats from your advances. Twice already, he’s stared at the glowing eyes of a child of Hades and the second time was even more intimidating. 
“He just disappeared,” Percy stutters out. “It looked like shadows took him, and then he was gone.” 
Schist. You didn’t even know the little rat could shadow travel. By now, he could be anywhere. You’ve been on him about training, but he still had that childish clumsiness to him. His chances of survival would be out of pure luck. 
A groan leaves your lips, knowing you’d have to go find him. If it were anyone else, you would have let them be, but this unfamiliar urgency in your chest wouldn’t allow it. You had to find and drag him back by his ear if you had to. 
Your eyes roll at the son of Poseidon, and you turn on your heels without a word. So much drama because of that sister of his. 
Rushing down the stairs of the pavilion, you conjure the shadows to form a portal that’ll lead you straight into the forest. 
Di Angelo, you better be alive when I find you. 
★・・・・・・★
How does a 10-year-old with short legs get so much distance? 
After hours of searching and instigating some fights with monsters, he was nowhere to be found. Concluding that, maybe, hopefully, he found his way out of the forest, you have to settle with waiting for him to return. If he returns.
Tired legs take you up the porch steps and you shrug off your coat the moment you step through the door. As the warmth graces your chilled skin, a floorboard creaks.
“Nico?” 
“Y/n?” Your name comes out of his mouth like a desperate plea as he reveals himself out of the shadows. With rosy, tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes, Nico bolts in your direction, and for a moment, you think he’s going to attack you. 
It would be a bold move. Though, with his speed, he could get a good hit but he ended up doing something much worse. 
He hugged you. 
His small frame flings into you, short arms grasping your waist as if his life depended on it. 
“Percy broke his promise,” he cries, hot tears running down his cheeks and dampening your shirt. “Bianca,” he shutters. “He told me she died.” His frame shivers harder, the action almost too violent for his frame. You weren’t sure how but his grip tightened, “What am I going to do?” Get over it. 
The hostile thought was a knee-jerk reaction. Your mouth was about to relay the message but you stopped yourself, the words getting caught in your throat. 
The logical answer didn’t feel right. Why didn’t it feel right? 
Suddenly you’re aware of the sunken feeling in your chest. Its foreign nature made it hard to distinguish whether it hurt or if it was discomfort. 
This is odd.
Nico cries and cries, and by now, the clothing of your shirt is sticking damp to your skin. The longer you stood there, stuck on what to say next, you felt an urgency as if your response was timed. 
Rarely were you lost for words. Actually, you can’t recall a time when you have but right now you stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water. “You stay here,” you say abruptly. Nico pulls away, eyes glistening in the ray of moonlight seeping into the room. He’s so small. 
Not that he’s not small on any other day. His narrow shoulders droop and turn into themselves from the weight of the news. He looked fragile, searching for something other than his grief and he’s searching for it in you. 
It wasn’t often someone came to confide in you. Your advice was always too abrasive, and cold, and never did you have the urge to give something different. 
That’s what made this moment so strange. As Nico waits expectantly, you can’t find it in yourself to disregard him. 
“You stay here,” you repeat, the words delivered before your brain could process them.“And you train, and make friends, and find your own way around life.” Nico frowns, sleeve wiping his nose. Amongst his sadness, something flickers in his eyes. “Stay here with you?” With you. 
You couldn’t begin to decipher what that question made you feel. Forget the question, its delivery was hopeful and that surprised you the most. 
The feelings were almost overwhelming and before it completely flooded your senses, you shoved it to the side.
“Who else?” You clear your throat in an effort to get yourself together. “Is there anyone else who lives here besides me? Does the statue count too?” The question was genuine but something about it made Nico crack a smile.
“Anyways, you’ll see her again.” You shrug, stepping out of his loose embrace. 
“I will?” “We’re the children of the dead. We can just find her.” Find her so I can kill her again.
Nico sniffles, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts. 
“Stop crying,” you blurt out, and the boy blinks, face pink. “Crying doesn’t fix anything,” is all you say before returning to your side of the room. 
Nico swallows, trying to suppress the tears. 
You were right. Crying doesn’t fix anything but even though it was true, his emotions were all too much for him. Sniffling softly and wiping his face with his sleeve, he retreats to bed. “Good night,” he says, voice quivering. 
Nico crawls into the covers, the fatigue hitting him the moment he rests against the spring mattress. Unexpecting, he wraps himself up, eyes shut tight in hopes he’ll be asleep soon. “Good night.” 
Nico’s eyebrows furrow. He finds some strength to lift his head just enough for you to be in his line of vision. Blinking in surprise, he swears he saw a smile on your face. It wasn’t teasing, or happy. It was comforting, as slight as it was. It wasn’t much but to Nico, it made him feel like he’d be okay. 
Without another word, you slid into your covers and went to sleep. 
★・・・・・・★
“Where’s the brat?” With crossed arms and a look of determination, you stood authoritatively at the double doors of your father’s dining room. 
The god sits at the very end of the grand table, skeleton butlers wait on either end of the room to serve him. On the polished mahogany wood, the bulbs of the many crystal chandeliers lined up across the ceiling reflect like ornaments. As Hades wipes the sides of his lips with a cloth napkin, the side of his mouth quirks as he catches Nico peeking behind your back like a child behind a mother’s skirt.
Since when have you been maternal? 
“I’m sorry, who?” Your father asks with fake confusion. The smile on his face already gave you a headache. You weren’t here to play games, you meant business. 
“You know who.”
Hades clears his throat and his eyes flicker over to Nico. Quickly, the small boy retreats nervously, eyes set on your back. “I don’t know where your sister is, boy.” 
“I don’t believe you,” you cut in. Nico wasn’t going to speak, the boy practically shivering in his father’s presence. Even as he refrains from confrontation, he’s in awe at your comfort towards the god. 
“There’s dead people in and out of this place. You think I would know?” Hades asks and a hum leaves your lips.
“I would think you’d at least keep track of your kids but if you’re going to be this useless to me, I’ll find her myself.” 
“Wait.” 
You halt turning on your heels and raise an eyebrow. There was a moment of disbelief, your father helping and not making everything so difficult for you, for once? You wonder who could have possibly granted this miracle. 
“She’s somewhere down here,” Hades says and you wish your expression could get straighter. “Wow, I would have never figured that out. Thanks.” Grabbing Nico’s sleeve, you begin dragging him out of the room. 
“She’s not in the meadows, I checked. I don’t think her life has been judged either but Charon said he rowed her in. I can feel she’s close.” 
You sigh. Finding her is proving to be more of a challenge than you thought. By now, you would think she’d be judged and categorized wherever the judges saw fit. However, from the dead ends, you’ve stumbled upon so far, you consider that she doesn’t want to be found. As annoying as it is, the chance to prove you can find her was enough to get you to keep going, “Noted,” you mumble, already deciding where you will look next. “Close the door on your way out!” “No.”
★・・・・・・★
“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder. 
“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence. 
“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek. 
Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading. 
“Help me!” He was saying without a word. 
The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister. “I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground. “Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tarturus. Last chance.” 
Atrius wails at your threat, the sound was so hysteric you almost missed his confession. “She’s hiding in Lady Persephone’s garden, amongst the pomegranate trees!” 
Nico flinches when you whip around. Already he was unsettled by your interrogation methods but nothing prepared him for your face.
You were smiling. Your eyes looked lit up. 
Not gracing him a look, you walked right past him. From his surprise, his brain never gave his body the signal to move. Instead, he averts his attention to a distraught Atrius whose more than relieved he finally got you out of his bones. 
Right as he’s about to look away, Nico jumps in his skin as the skeleton looks right at him once again. It was only then did he find the courage to move. Walking backward, he smiles sheepishly. “Um… thank you,” Nico’s tone is apologetic. Across the courtyard laid Atrius’s leg and the boy takes a step in that direction but is halted by the sound of his name. “You’re coming or not?” You ask him, foot tapping with impatience. 
Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nico forgets about retrieving the guard's limb. “Sorry about your leg!” He shouts behind him, hoping the apology was soothing enough as he joins your side. 
The young boy stares at the back of your sneakers as you make your way through the underworld. Already he’s seen some things that spooked him out too much. This was like walking through a horror maze for him. 
For you though, he notices you’re more comfortable around here than you did at camp. Your usually confident stride had purpose and authority. He wonders if he’ll ever walk through here the same way you do one day. A part of him hopes he does.
“Alright.” Nico halts, almost bumping right into you as you stop in your tracks. “We walk through here silently. Watch where you’re stepping, if you crush one of Persephone’s plants, I can’t help you.” 
The boy’s face contorted with fear. “What do you mean you can’t help me?” He couldn’t decipher the look you flashed in his direction but it sent your message well enough. Don’t step on one of her flowers and you won’t find out. 
Nico’s small nod is enough to get you moving. With silent and slow steps, you walk along the paved pathway toward the cluster of trees in the back. 
It hadn’t settled into Nico’s awareness that his sister was hiding. You could tell. He was still hopeful and excited to see her and you can imagine if he knew, he wouldn’t be happy about it. 
You’re not happy about it, that’s for sure. What even was her problem? If there was anything Nico deserved, it was to see her before she gets sent to the meadows or decides to reincarnate. 
Once you approach the trees, you shuffle through them. You’re thankful Nico’s naturally taken the role of your shadow because he mimics your sneaking, staying out of sight with you. 
He probably thinks your caution is due to Persephone arriving at any minute. You feel this strange tightness in your chest, he really has no idea you’re trying to sneak up on his sister so she doesn’t have the chance to run.
Right as the thought passes, you catch sight of something moving in the trees. Locks of brown hair wisp through them and the pulse in your neck picks up. It seems you’re not going to avoid a chase. 
Nico barely had time to catch up as you bolt through a straight diagonal through the trees. You admire her audacity to try and get away. The smile that stretches across your face is from amusement alone. 
As Bianca makes a sharp right, you gather the shadows at the tree's stumps and will them to consume your body. Nico blinks and suddenly you’re gone. His quick steps come to a stop as he looks around, trying to catch any sight of you. Then he hears a cry of pain and he moves fast in that direction. 
The only thing on his mind was the possibility you got hurt. Even if you were in your father’s territory, were there still monsters that could attack you? Even worse, what if you stepped on Lady Persephone’s plants? If you can’t help him in the scenario he did, what was he gonna do? 
His pace quickens as he hears another cry and finally, he bursts through a wall of vines. 
Still clouded by his concern, his brain barely processes what he stumbled upon. There you were, fingers grasping tight at his sister’s ear. Bianca groans and struggles in your pinching grasp and you look up at Nico with a gleam, like a fisherman who just got his catch of the day. “Got her.” 
“Nico?”
Bianca freezes at the sight of her brother. There’s a silence that follows and you’re surprised Nico didn’t immediately bombard her with questions. 
The girl straightens up once you let go of her and as your arm returns to your side, you catch the tears brimming Nico’s waterline.
Yeah, this is when you clock out. Your work here is done. 
“I’ll… wait for you over there,” you point through the trees and at the meadow of flowers that wasn’t too far. It’s enough distance to be an earshot away. 
Nico nods, his eyes unmoving from his sister. 
Once you’ve shadow traveled to your spot, you didn’t dare look in their direction. With your eyes planted on the flowers, you wait for Nico to return. 
The boy didn’t take too long which left you lost for words. He didn’t look happy when he met you in the garden. His eyes held a feeling a part of you understood. 
“I want to go home.” He frowns. 
Home. You didn’t even consider camp a home and you’ve been there for three years. 
“Okay.” Your voice was right above a whisper. 
Whatever happened back there was the end for him, the last time he would see her. Knowing how that felt, you waited. Just a moment, maybe two. If Nico had any reservations or second thoughts, you gave him time. When nothing came, you hoped whatever happened, he’ll find peace in it. 
The shadow gathered slowly, first at your feet then at your legs and soon the two of you were traveling through blurred shadows and harsh winds.
★・・・・・・★
“Who did this?” You weren’t sure if the streaks of water on Nico’s face were from his eyes or the toilet water soaked in his hair. 
The boy sniffles, cheeks and nose flushed from his embarrassment. After the incident, he rushed back to the Hades Cabin to wallow in self-pity but his assumption you wouldn’t be there was wrong. He didn’t want to admit what happened, scared he would disappoint you for clearly losing this battle.
His mouth opens to answer but nothing comes out. He considers lying but as you raise an eyebrow, he grows too anxious to come up with one. 
“Nico,” you say his name firmly and the frown on his face deepens. “It was Clarisse and her siblings, they-” he gurgles out through his watery whines and you sigh. “They…, I-” 
“Breathe.” You kneel to his height and take a deep breath, waiting for him to follow. He does, his chest filling with air and he releases it shakily. 
“They surrounded me in the bathroom and Clarisse shoved my face in the toilet.” 
His lip quivers as he recalls the memory. Nico’s eyes flicker across your hardening features and you rise from your spot. “Go clean up,” you demand, already heading to the door. 
“What are you gonna do?” “I’m going to fix it.” 
★・・・・・・★
Gravel crunches under your shoes, without a single weapon you persist into the camp’s arena. Clangs of swords and grunts could be heard from outside of the entrance and as you made your way through the doors, there were the Ares’s campers sweating and panting from their already hard day of training. 
Clarisse stands there authoritatively, the swing of the grand door grabbing her attention and the snug look on her face had set off a slight rage in your chest. 
You were ready to wipe it off. If only she knew what she had coming. “Did Nico tell on us?” One of her brothers asks mockingly, your presence already known to the entire group. They stood, waiting for a fight as they make no effort to sheath their swords. 
A smile almost graces your lips before you could even execute your plan.
“His big sister is fighting his battles for him.” They laugh and joke at your brother’s expense and something snaps in your mind. 
The ground suddenly sinks into itself, and Clarisse and her siblings stumble to the side in confusion. Before they realized what was happening, there was no chance to run. 
A sinkhole, perfectly round and deep enough to trap them forms right under their feet. They roll and drop to the bottom, coughing at the gravel waterfall surrounding them. 
You hear their shouts and complaints and you make your way to the edge. Looking down at them, you ignore their demands to be let out.
“No one messes with my little brother.” 
As if on cue, there’s a screech in the distance and it immediately fills their expressions with dread. A lopsided smirk appears on your lips and soon the shadows of massive wings appear overhead. 
You whisper a demand to attack in ancient greek and the harpies swoop down with a call like a battle cry. There’s a collective panic of your victims and a laugh leaves you, watching as they spear their swords in the air at every charge towards them. 
Calmly leaving the chaos you’ve caused behind, you find an audience. Unaware of their bewildered expressions, not because of the scene but at the joyful smile on your face, you hoped you’ve sent a message.
Be nice my brother or else.
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rinachains · 19 days ago
Text
wc: 2.6k
contents: nanami x gn!reader; age gap (they're both adults); kind of a mentor/mentee relationship (but not really); reader has some unresolved issues; (sexual?) tension; seemingly one-sided crush; suggestive; MDNI
a/n: a little something while I'm working on the toji fic. the voices made me write this, I hope y'all will enjoy it. comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @cafekitsune
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“Are you hungry?”
A shake of your head, barely noticeable. As expected, Nanami mused. He held down a loud sigh.
The lethargic state in which the mission – the whole day – had left him was wearing him down, and all he wanted to do was lie in his bed and close his eyes. But even then, sleep came hard to him; it hovered above him, a painful tease, but it never dared to give him a sweet release. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt fully rested.
“Is there something else you want?”, Nanami tried again, a swift glance towards you.
You only made a dismissive noise in response. The sound almost got drowned out by the heavy rain outside of Nanami’s car. Every hit of the rain against his windows like a punch, with vigour and frustration behind it. Nanami tried not to let his frustration show.
If there was one thing Nanami didn't lack, it was self-awareness and the ability to see through others.
He knew that in the eyes of most of his peers, he came across as stern, overly composed and perhaps a bit too serious. More than once did he hear from them that he ought to relax more and be less formal, but despite all that, they still had a certain respect (and some even admiration) for him. He was able to handle majority of his peers, albeit with a headache sometimes.
Yet he - for the life of him - couldn't figure out why you suddenly became a different person when he was near you. He caught a glimpse of how you acted around others – you were relaxed, laughed at some of the jokes that were made and could hold conversations without any problems.
So why did you act so strange around him?
Nanami would even go so far as to say that you seemed irritated by him. Sometimes he’d catch the roll of your eyes when he’d admonish you, or you'd give him a halfhearted nod when he’d share an important piece of information with you, as if you were trying to have as little conversation with him as possible. As if any interaction with him was a pain in the ass. It deepened his frown each time, the ache in his already throbbing head only getting worse.
He was used to a reaction like this towards Gojo, someone who was naturally irritating, but towards him?
Today, you went on a mission together. Initially, you were supposed to go on your own, but the higher ups decided it would be better if Nanami tagged along, in case something happened and you wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Nanami told you that he would stay out of the mission - your mission - and that he would only intervene if he thought it was necessary. Until a certain point, you believed that the mission was going well and that it would end in success for you. A way to prove yourself, to show everyone how capable you were. But then fate decided to show its twisted sense of humor today; just when you thought you had exorcised all the curses, another one suddenly came from behind you, catching you off guard. Too fast for you to react in time.
And the worst thing? Nanami had to come to your rescue, even though you nearly had it.
So now you were sitting in his car, parked in front of the apartment complex you lived in and waited. For what? You didn’t quite know. Nanami told you to wait until the rain stopped, since none of you had an umbrella with you. How considerate of him, right?
He sat next to you in the driver's seat, not a single strand of his perfectly coiffed hair out of place, not even a small stain on his clean, pressed suit.
With each passing minute, the silence between the two of you only grew more tense. Since all available managers were busy with other sorcerers, Nanami offered to use his car. He didn’t expect to do much or any work at all.
Your arms were crossed against your chest as you stared out of the window, chewing on the inside of your cheek and pointedly avoiding looking at the man next to you. You seemed uncomfortable, visibly upset, and that in return made Nanami restless; he tried to remember if he unknowingly offended you earlier. He sometimes tended to be a bit harsh, not feeling and seeing the need to sugarcoat things, but he was not someone who was reluctant to praise. So what did he do to you to make you dislike him?
He cleared his throat, one of his hands loosening his tie. It started to feel awfully tight around his neck.
"If you have a problem, you can tell me. After all, we are both adults here.”
"There's no problem," you muttered, fingers intertwined in your lap. You didn’t sound very convincing and your eyes still refused to meet his.
"Clearly there is," he said matter-of-factly, tired of beating around the bush. He wanted your honesty; he could handle it. After all, he had dealt with worse things in his life. "I may not know you that well, but I can see that something is bothering you."
Another beat of silence and Nanami considered dropping the subject and giving up. If you didn’t want to talk, then he won’t force you.
You felt like pure shit. The truth was, you definitely had a problem. With him. And even though he probably didn't mean to, he brought out the worst in you, all those ugly, desperate feelings that were buried deep inside your body. You hated the way he nagged you or made you feel stupid and fragile. You usually prided yourself on being confident and collected, but he could make you question yourself and your abilities so easily without even trying. You wanted to be independent, not have to lean on him for support; you were a strong sorcerer, for God's sake. So when he had to step in and rescue you like a damsel in distress, it did more than just irritate you. Simply put, your ego couldn't handle it. And it wasn't even his fault, the cause was entirely your own deep-seated insecurities.
He wasn't much older than you, yet he somehow made you feel like a lost child that lacked decades of experience. It annoyed you, but what annoyed you even more was the strong attraction you felt towards him.
Nanami was intimidating yet gentle, someone with good intentions, probably better than any of the other senior sorcerers you worked with.
You longed for his praise, to hear his approval and let it wrap you in a warm embrace. But you were afraid of falling for it, of becoming dependent. An addict. You could never be casual about such things, the intensity was too strong in your heart, a part of you.
The smell of his expensive cologne made your head spin, the urge to nuzzle your face against his neck and breathe in his comforting, masculine scent growing harder and harder to resist. It was like fighting a natural instinct, every fiber of your body yelling at you to give in.
But what made it even harder was the simple fact that he would never see you in that light. Nanami was too good a man, you knew it, everyone knew it. It was supposed to lessen your attraction, but somehow it made it stronger. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with you.
Averting your gaze from the window, you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on his thighs, the thickness of them stretched across the seat, muscles straining against his tight slacks. You swallowed as your mind began to wander.
You imagined his big hand, the same one he used to exorcise curses, gently caressing the nape of your neck, the other one cupping your cheek so tenderly, as if you would crack under the slightest pressure, thumb brushing under your eye. The band of his watch would dig lightly into your skin, leaving faint marks that you'd only notice later when you looked in the mirror.
The sounds he'd make, a hungry humming vibrating against your lips as his mouth would fit perfectly against yours in a desperate rhythm, as if he'd waited far too long to devour you. A choked moan as your hand pressed against his thigh to stabilize yourself, nails digging into the fat there as the muscles twitched under your burning touch. 
The deep blush that would color his cheeks, spreading across the bridge of his nose as his breath hitched. The growing bulge between his thighs that would ache and harden as you brushed your fingertips over it, his hips lifting up and chasing for more.
You wanted to see him crumble because of you, to succumb to his desires and abandon his principles. To bring all the pleasure that brew underneath his skin to a boil. But you weren't naive; you knew it would only remain a distant dream, a hidden fantasy of yours. Because it was Nanami.
"I'm just exhausted," you finally responded with a shake of your head, daring to briefly meet his piercing brown eyes, rid of his glasses. You watched how his lips pressed into a flat line, his head tilted the slightest bit. You thought the expression on his face could be concern.
"Then you should take it easy," Nanami said, so frustratingly considerate. "You may be an adult, but you're still too young to suffer all this stress."
Immediately, as if he had pressed a trigger point, a groan left your mouth at his words and your head slammed back against the car seat rather dramatically. Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose.
"Stop treating me like an incompetent child. I can handle this perfectly fine. Seriously, you're acting as if I’ve just started as a sorcerer, even though I've been doing this for several years now."
Nanami went still and blinked. His brows furrowed, the shadows on his face darkened, and he shifted in his seat to face you properly. "I do believe you're competent. You're talented, but that doesn't mean you should disregard your own limits."
Your eyelashes fluttered and you peered at him from the corner of your half-lidded eye.
"I just want you to take me seriously."
"I do. And I don't want you to end up like me; it's my duty as your senior to make sure you have it better than I did."
"But it makes me feel like shit," you bit back, all the frustration pouring out of you like an uncontrollable body of water. You couldn't hold back anymore, the gates now opened. "You may have no ill intentions, but that doesn't mean your actions can't negatively affect me."
You waved a hand at him. "And then you had to save me today. I really thought I could do it for a moment, but of course I screwed up. And you had to clean up after me."
"You did not mess up," Nanami insisted stubbornly.
“Oh, c’mon,” you scowled. “I always seem to do so in your eyes.”
"I never thought of you that way," Nanami replied, the tension in his face softening. "I didn't know you felt that way."
"Well," you murmured, rubbing the back of your neck. "I guess that's on me." You exhaled, head tipped back. "It's just hard, you know? To show any sign of weakness."
"But it's not weakness. You're just being human."
Then he reached his hand up, and you watched as he placed it on your shoulder, the size of his hand dwarfing it. The warmth of his careful touch made your skin tingle through your clothes, his thumb rubbing lightly against the tingling spot. In just a few seconds, you found it harder to breathe, the air too stuffy in his car, which seemed to have shrunk. 
A casual touch, you thought. Nothing special. But the way it consumed you and festered through your body was anything but casual.
"You did well today,” Nanami said pointedly, an attempt to calm and reassure you. The deep timbre of his voice crossed the small distance between you and traveled through your body, tightening the knot in your stomach. Your fingers pressed into the side of your seat. You held his piercing stare, fearing for a moment that he could read you every thought and figure you out. Your tongue poked out to wet your lips. A weak nod was all you could give him.  
He removed his hand, slowly, and for a fleeting moment you thought that his fingers lingered on you for a little too long before he resumed his former position and his hand returned to his leg.
You subtly shook your head again – clearly your exhaustion was taking over you and clouding your mind. You had to get yourself together. Maybe a short trip to Shoko would help.
"How do you deal with all this stress?" you asked, more calmly now that the cat was out of the bag.
He made a sound, a mix of a huff and a sigh. “I don’t deal with it; I’m afraid it will always accompany me.”
You hummed, tilting your head to rest on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered back to him. "Sounds exhausting. Have you tried anything to relieve the stress?"
“I don’t think there’s something that could relieve it. I guess that’s just the price I pay as a sorcerer.”
"Really?" you asked, sounding skeptical.  "Is there really nothing that would help relax your body? Take your mind off all this jujutsu stuff?"
His lips parted, words sitting right on the tip of his tongue, but they closed again. Instead, “No, I can’t really think of anything.”  
“Hmh, but that way you might die from the stress, and not because of a mission. That would be an unimpressive way to go.”
To your surprise, he let out a snort, the ghost of a thin smile forming on his face.
“You’re probably right.”
“Maybe I can help.”
He didn’t respond right away. Then, “How?”
"By locking Gojo up for a few hours. Or a few days."
The amused glint in the brown of his irises returned. He rubbed his eyes.
"I'm afraid that won't do much. Knowing him, he'd find a way to be annoying from wherever he's locked up."
You were about to reply, hoping to keep the conversation going, but then you looked outside; the rain had stopped. All that remained was the dark sky. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hesitating.
"…I have to go now. It’s late and you probably also want to go home."
He gave you a curt nod. His eyes were now focused forward, an unreadable expression crossing his face.
You opened the door and climbed out of the seat, your feet already on the ground, before you turned your head slightly, giving Nanami a view of your side profile.
“…thank you, Nanami.” And I’m sorry, you wanted to add. But you weren’t there yet. Your stupid pride still had a firm grip on you and not even the little conversation you had could get you out of it. Perhaps you needed more time.
“Of course.”
As you closed the door and started to walk away, you didn't get to see him slump back into his seat with a heavy sigh, a hand running down his face, the tips of his ears turning a crimson color as shame coursed through his veins.
You would be the death of him, he was sure of it.
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slasher-fxcker · 3 months ago
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s/o accidentally hurting michael’s feelings and making him cry? sorry i just love soft Michael imagines 😭🤎🙏🏾
A/N: Okay so I did get carried away and change this slightly, this is mostly angst but there definitely will be a fluffier part 2! I’m sorry but no matter how hard I tried I could not imagine a situation where Michael would cry. At this point I’m not fully convinced he would even possess tear ducts.
Fighting with Michael
Warnings: Toxic relationship, violence, mentions of blood. This blog is 18+ MDNI
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To say you were beginning to worry was an understatement. It had been 3 days since you had seen Michael and although you knew he could handle himself, you couldn’t help but worry that something had happened to him. You weren’t sure what to do or how long you could wait, but what were you supposed to do? Call the police? Yeah that would go down great, Hi my boyfriend has been on a murder spree for the last 3 days and I haven’t heard from him, think you could help?
No, you knew all you could do was wait, luckily it wasn’t too much longer until you heard the familiar slam of the door that let you know someone was home. You rush down stairs to find Michael walking from the back door towards where you stood. You gasped when you saw him, he was covered in dirt and blood, you knew it was mostly victims but the rips in his jumpsuit made you think that some of it was his own.
He paused for a moment when he heard you, you reached a hand out and took a step towards him causing Michael to glare at you before continuing forward and pushing past you. From his behaviour and appearance, you guessed that the victim must have proved more difficult than he anticipated, but if he expected you to leave him be after practically going missing then he had another thing coming.
You followed him towards the stairs, grabbing his sleeve before he could take the first step. He spun around to face you and you couldn’t help but notice the tight grip he held on the dirty knife in his hand. You tentatively place a hand on his chest, not wanting to push him too much in his current state, “I missed you, I just want to make sure you're okay.” Michael places his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest and for a second you thought he was returning the affection, but he soon gripped your wrist tightly enough that it stung slightly before pushing you so that your back hit the wall next to the staircase. You could feel your eyes well as the emotion of the past 3 days finally got to you, your next words were a whisper but Michael heard you, “Why didn’t you just kill me?” this made him falter, he had been expecting you to either yell or leave him be, that he could deal with, but this, he didn’t know what to make of it. He just tilted his head and slightly lifted the pressure off your chest where he held you.
“You were gone for three days, do you know how worried I have been. But you don’t even care. So why, what was the point in keeping me alive if I mean so little to you.” You knew it wasn’t true, you knew Michael cared for you but you were so angry at him for how he made you feel that you couldn’t help it. You pushed his hand off of your chest, wiping the tears from you face and trying your best to match his glare, you wouldn’t be intimidated by him.
“I’m sick of being treated like this, I’m sick of you shutting me out.” You noticed his white knuckles as his fingers clenched around the blade in his hand but you held your composure, “I don’t deserve this, I stayed with you, I gave you all of me and you won’t even look at me after leaving me here.” He hadn’t reacted yet and you dared to take it one step further, slowly lifting your hand up towards his mask, “You won’t even let me see you.” He once again grabs your wrist in an iron hold, you pull away now anger boiling up inside you, your voice is no longer the soft whisper it had been, “If I mean so little to you then just finish the job Michael! Go on, kill me like you were supposed to. Do it, rid me from your life and finish this!” You barely get the sentence out and you see the glint of the knife as he raises it you close your eyes in anticipation of a pain that never comes.
Opening your eyes slowly you see Michaels form as he breathes heavily, almost erratically. You see the knife in your peripheral, stabbed into the wall, close enough that if you turned your head your nose would brush against it. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as you took in what had just happened, the only sound in the room was Michaels breathing. You couldn’t make excuses for Michael anymore, if he couldn’t show you even a sliver of humanity then you couldn’t keep pretending it was there. Was this a game to him? Something to pass the time in between his kills, was he going to keep you around until you bored him. If he wasn’t willing to try then you weren’t willing to put up with it anymore.
You pushed him away and he let you, knowing he could stop you if he wanted. He watched you as you walked out the door contemplating if following you would do more harm than good. After you slammed the door you swore you heard something being smashed from inside the house but you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to care.
You didn’t know where you were headed as you walked down the quiet lane, but you knew you needed to get away from that house for a while. Away from Michael.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: There will be a part 2 to this, don’t worry I won’t leave you guys hanging there, it came out much longer and angsty-er than I expected
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save-the-villainous-cat · 3 months ago
Text
It wasn't like the hero had planned this.
"Is this a joke?"
And it wasn't like they had much of a choice, either.
"Hey," they said. Their voice wasn't even fully there. It wasn't much more than a breath. Their hands were still trembling and they didn't dare to meet the villain's eyes. All in all, they felt pathetically incompetent. "Do you have bandages?"
The villain stared at them as if the hero was something alien that came out of a laboratory.
The hero supposed they couldn't blame them - they looked pretty fucked up with the blood running down their temple or the many cuts on their arms and legs.
"If this is one of your sad attempts where you try to get some heroic action out of me by pretending-"
The hero raised their arms in a defensive manner and contorted their face when their open wounds continued to torture them. It had been painful enough to drag themselves to the villain’s apartment.
"I just need some bandages," they said. "I have nothing on me. Frisk me. You can kick my ass when I do anything suspicious."
"Fine." The villain opened the door even further and let the hero walk past them. The villain's apartment was small but neat - just as the hero had expected. They knew their nemesis was a rather orderly person. Someone who had their rules and methods and acted accordingly. Hell, even their fighting was the most coordinated thing the hero had ever seen.
They heard the door close behind them.
Fascinated by the villain's choice of decoration, they barely noticed how they were about to reach the living room already. However, suddenly, the hero felt the villain's hand on their shoulder and in the next second, they got pushed against the hallway's wall.
Reluctantly, they whimpered, feeling the pain of their open wounds a little too well. The villain was right in front of them, studying their enemy carefully.
They cocked their head. They leaned over.
"Take your shoes off," the villain said. The hero swallowed. Although they had been this close to each other countless times, it was a little different now.
It was a little different in the villain's home, a little different with the hero's aching body. It was surely true that - to some extent - the hero wasn't just here for bandages. Deep within, they wanted some comfort but they knew not to ask for that. They had learnt a long time ago not to ask for these things.
"Sorry," the hero mumbled. They slipped out of their shoes without even looking down. The villain's gaze was indecipherable. Were they mad? Or bored? Or annoyed? The hero couldn't tell.
"I'm gonna check you for weapons now."
"Oh, yeah...yes." The villain's fingers were on them instantly and to the hero's surprise, they were stupidly gentle.
It could have been easy to make the hero suffer in a stage like this. With wounds all over their body, the villain could have grabbed them or pushed their fingers into the cuts but none of that ever happened.
Their fingers were simply ghosting over the hero's suit, avoiding the horrible wounds. Once the villain's hands were on their hips, the hero had to blush.
"Now tell me what happened," the villain said. Their voice was calm but their gaze was fixated on the hero.
Then, they kneeled in front of them, with their hands going down both sides of the hero's left thigh.
"Oh, I..."
And then the other thigh.
The hero took in a deep breath. It was hard to imagine that they were able to push their pain aside for a second because the villain was touching their thighs. Being distracted was a luxury they couldn't afford.
"I was in the middle of a training session and...I kinda freaked out and teleported to the other end of the city."
Admittedly, the hero hated their powers. Being a teleporter had a lot of potential, especially considering the different ways of defeating an enemy. They could be quite creative. It was somewhat exciting but it was still an incredibly difficult superpower to control.
In the beginning, the hero would teleport to random places. It had been so bad, in fact, that the agency had decided to lock them up for a few months. The hero understood it had been necessary but even today, they had nightmares about it.
Although they could control themselves now, sometimes (under immense stress), they would teleport with no control whatsoever.
It was pure chaos.
"I landed in the park nearby."
The villain was still kneeling. They looked up.
"So, you are telling me these cuts are from a training session? And you panicked during a training session so much that you teleported?"
"Pretty much, yeah." The villain let their fingers glide under the hero's pants right by their ankle and it quickly dawned on the hero that they had made a stupid mistake.
Presumably, the villain had known all along about the tiny knife the hero was always hiding right there. The hero's ears started to burn. The villain was going to throw them out.
They stood up and suddenly, the hero was oh so aware of how much taller the villain actually was compared to them. They held up the tiny knife.
"And you think that is normal?"
"Listen, I am so sorry. I forgot about that. I never meant to-"
"You believe it is okay that this happened?"
"What?"
"You teleporting to the other end of the city? You think that is normal?"
"It was just an accident," the hero said. They shrugged and even that hurt. "Things like that happen."
"Do you know why your body does this?" the villain asked. Apparently, they were done with their search. They confiscated the knife, barely paying any attention to it and the fact that, technically, the hero had lied to them about being unarmed.
They took the hero's arm and stared at a particularly deep cut. The hero could remember how it had happened; they had raised their arms to defend themselves from the upcoming attack. The blood was still running.
"I think I just suck at controlling my powers. I need to…you know, train more."
"It is a survival instinct," the villain said. "You are teleporting because your body wants to be anywhere but in that situation. A training session is supposed to challenge you, not traumatise you."
"You don't have to worry about me. In case that is what you are doing."
"I am…" The villain frowned. "I actually don't know what I am doing right now."
At least the villain was honest.
"But you need a bit more than just bandages," they continued. "Sit down in the living room. Just…"
The villain seemed a little confused. Their eyes avoided the hero, their fingers were still on them. The hero wasn't sure if their enemy was actually embarrassed.
I actually don't know what I am doing right now.
The hero smiled to themselves.
They didn't know what the villain was doing either but, at least, they were comforting, even though the hero being here could turn out to be a major risk for them.
"…just don't bleed all over my couch."
They weren't even mad when the hero failed to do that.
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simplygojo · 5 days ago
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Haunted Party - Nanami Kento
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Author's Note: Hey gang, I have FINALLY finished all my kinktober fics (do not expect any smut from me anymore LMAO) and have finished it off with an entry for @fizee's Fic-Or-Treat event!!! I HOPE ONE OF YOU LIKE THIS I GOT HORRID WRITERS BLOCK <3
Fic-Or-Treat
Spooky Szn Masterlist
Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader
Word Count: 3.6K
Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, fingering, semi-public sex, haunted encounters.
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The insurance company you worked for had a reputation for hosting some of the most extravagant Halloween parties. 
Every year, they outdid themselves, turning lavish venues into eerie, haunted wonderlands filled with masked guests, dark costumes, and enough mystery to last until the next morning. This year was no different. 
The theme was a "Haunted Royal Court," and the moment you arrived at the grand mansion, you could feel the weight of the night—luxurious yet unsettling, the perfect setting for an evening that would inevitably end in indulgence.
The chandeliers in the dimly lit entrance hall flickered ominously as you stepped inside, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. 
Cobwebbed tapestries lined the walls, the candlelight casting ghostly shadows over the guests mingling in their regal, haunted costumes. 
A subtle sense of unease lingered in the air, but you knew that wasn’t just because of the atmosphere. It was because of him.
Kento Nanami.
Last Halloween had been the first–and last–time something had happened between you two. 
The party that year had been just as extravagant, and after hours of drinks and stolen glances, the tension had exploded in a way you hadn’t expected. 
By the end of the night, you’d found yourself in the parking lot, pressed up against his sleek black car, Nanami’s hands gripping your hips while his lips claimed yours in a moment of raw desire. 
His usually composed demeanour had crumbled as the two of you fucked right there, under the cover of darkness, driven by alcohol and an unspoken need that neither of you had ever acknowledged. 
But after that night, things had gone back to normal. 
You didn’t talk about it. Neither of you had brought up the rushed, heated encounter that left your skin tingling for days. In fact…you practically never saw him in the office after that.
Maybe you both had reasons to pretend it didn’t happen, but the memory of his hands on you, his voice strained with lust, had never left your mind.
And now, at this year’s Halloween party, the tension between you was back—stronger than ever.
You adjusted the delicate lace sleeves of your gown, the dark fabric clinging to your curves in a way that felt both seductive and spectral. 
The plunging neckline and sheer accents added a haunting allure, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit dangerous tonight. 
A part of you wanted to see if Nanami would react the same way as last time, if the restraint that held him together would snap again.
As you stepped fully into the grand ballroom, you felt the weight of gazes tracing over you, lingering with curious admiration. 
But one gaze felt different—intense, familiar, like a charged current that sparked every nerve ending to life. 
You didn’t need to look to know it was him. 
Even without meeting his eyes, you could feel Nanami’s attention on you, piercing through the other looks, as if he alone saw through the elaborate dress, the poised demeanour, right to the anticipation simmering beneath.
Adjusting the delicate lace sleeves of your gown, you let your fingers trail along the fabric, subtly drawing attention to the plunging neckline and the way the dark fabric moulded to your curves. 
The gown was intricate yet daring, the sheer lace accents and shadowy hue creating an otherworldly allure that left you feeling more alive than you had in weeks. 
You couldn’t help the shiver of satisfaction as you caught the faintest glimpse of Nanami’s gaze darkening from across the room. 
The way his jaw clenched, the subtle tightening of his grip around the glass in his hand—it was the only confirmation you needed.
You moved with graceful ease, mingling through the crowd, chatting with a few coworkers who complimented your costume or shared a laugh over the elaborate decorations. 
But even as you kept the conversation light and easy, your senses were hyper-focused on him, tracking his every move through the room, waiting to see if he would approach. 
You could’ve sworn that you saw a few of your female coworkers throw subtle glances in Nanami’s direction—though whether out of respect for his commanding presence or curiosity about the mysterious aura he carried, you weren’t sure.
Eventually, you found yourself near his group, standing with a small cluster of colleagues by the dimly lit bar where he was seated. 
The moment stretched taut as you casually joined their conversation, exchanging pleasantries and soft laughter with the others. 
Your body hummed with awareness, every fibre of you attuned to his presence. Yet neither of you acknowledged the other. 
The deliberate silence was its own kind of foreplay, unspoken and electric, drawing out the tension until it felt almost unbearable.
Every now and then, as you sipped your drink or listened to a story from a coworker, you’d feel his gaze drift in your direction, lingering just a second too long. 
You swore you could feel his eyes trailing over the slope of your neck, the bare skin exposed by the daring cut of your gown, down to the curve of your waist.
And each time, your pulse quickened, your heartbeat echoing loud enough that you were sure someone nearby might hear.
The memory of that night in the dark, pressed against his car, his hands possessive on your body, his breath hot and ragged as he murmured your name—it was all there, simmering beneath the surface.
And as you laughed at a joke someone told, you sensed him shifting closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a magnetic pull. 
You dared a sideways glance, catching a glimpse of the way his eyes roamed over you, his expression unreadable but filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
Without a word, Nanami’s hand brushed against yours—a feather-light touch, barely noticeable to anyone else, but enough to send sparks up your arm. 
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you forgot the others around you, lost in the silent promise that lingered in his gaze.
He stood beside you now, stoic in his ghostly nobleman’s attire, the sharp lines of his suit tailored perfectly to his broad frame. 
His pale makeup gave him a haunting, refined edge, and despite the eerie theme of the evening, Nanami still exuded his usual calm intensity. 
You hadn’t spoken much since you arrived, but his presence was enough to stir the familiar tension. You could feel his gaze on you occasionally, lingering, just as it had last year.
It was almost as if you were playing a game—seeing who would break first.
By the time you needed some air and a break from the meaningless small talk, your heart was already pounding with anticipation. 
You excused yourself from the mingling crowd, stepping toward the grand staircase that led to the quieter, upper levels of the mansion. 
The dim lighting cast long shadows over the bannisters, and the flickering candles added an almost supernatural glow to the space.
As you ascended the steps, you heard the familiar, steady sound of footsteps behind you. 
You didn’t need to turn to know it was him.
Nanami’s presence filled the stairwell as he caught up, his larger frame moving with quiet determination. 
He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel the tension building with each passing second.
"You left without saying anything," he finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. 
It wasn’t accusatory, but there was something heavier beneath the words, something that made your pulse quicken.
You stopped on the landing, leaning against the banister with a teasing smile. "Didn’t think you’d notice."
As his steady footsteps echoed closer, your pulse quickened, and you couldn’t resist a sly smile. 
You tilted your head, watching the flicker of something guarded—yet unmistakably intrigued—in his gaze. 
Nanami stopped a few steps below, just close enough that you could see the subtle shifts in his expression, the guarded way he held himself in check. 
His presence filled the narrow stairwell, quiet but commanding, and though he didn’t say anything right away, you felt his gaze take in every detail—the curve of your lips, the way the dark lace of your dress clung to your body.
His mouth quirked as his eyes snapped back up to yours, almost imperceptibly. "I notice plenty."
The words were simple, but the way his gaze swept over you made them feel like a confession. 
He took another step forward, and the dim lighting cast shadows that accentuated his strong jawline, his broad shoulders filling the space with an effortless elegance. 
His suit jacket cut perfectly to fit him, every inch of his appearance meticulously sharp, and for a moment, you almost lost your train of thought watching him approach.
He took another step, and then another, each movement careful, deliberate, like he was savouring every second of closing the space between you.
His eyes never left yours, and you could see the way he drank in every detail—how you stood just above him, the way your gown framed your silhouette against the stairwell’s low light. 
It was almost like he wanted to memorize the sight of you, his stare unwavering, intent.
"You’re making it pretty damn hard not to notice, y/n." He said, his tone low, soft but with an edge that sent a thrill down your spine. 
There was something dangerous in the way he looked at you now, the restraint in his gaze barely holding.
Your lips curved in a teasing smile as he drew closer, the heat in his gaze kindling your own excitement. 
"Funny, I didn’t think you were paying attention."
Nanami’s lips parted, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrowed, his expression still calm but undeniably intrigued. 
"Is that what you want to believe?" He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your form one more time before returning to your eyes.
Every step he took up those marble steps sent a wave of tension curling through you, the anticipation building to an unbearable peak. 
And then he was only a step away, his gaze still locked with yours, his figure looming with a quiet authority that made the stairwell feel impossibly small.
A soft chuckle slipped past your lips, and you couldn’t help but lean in just a bit, closing the small space between you. 
"You know," you said, your tone laced with challenge, "I almost thought you were avoiding me tonight."
Nanami’s gaze held yours as he finally reached you on the landing, and the corners of his mouth turned up in the slightest of smirks. 
"Avoiding you would be the sensible thing to do," he murmured, the faintest trace of dry humour slipping into his voice. 
"But you’re not very good at doing the sensible thing, are you?"
He let out a soft sigh, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering on the curve of your neck, the lace edging that skimmed over your collarbone before returning to your eyes. 
"With you," he replied, the restraint in his voice palpable, "it’s difficult."
The confession, quiet yet so unmistakably Nanami, made your heart beat faster. 
You couldn’t help but lean closer, the anticipation thrumming between you both like a live wire. 
"I don’t mind making things difficult," you whispered, your voice just for him.
His fingers brushed along your waist, steady yet unmistakably possessive, as he looked at you with that same intense gaze he wore in the field—sharp, unyielding, and thoroughly focused. 
"I know you don’t." 
His words were soft, almost indulgent, but his hand tightened ever so slightly, as if warning himself not to give in.
You let your fingers lightly graze the lapel of his jacket, watching as his focus flickered to the touch, his own calm facade beginning to show cracks.
For a moment, the air felt thick, every shared glance and whispered word drawing you further into his orbit. 
The faint lights of the stairwell cast a warm glow, leaving the world outside forgotten, as if you two were the only ones here.
Nanami's hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, his fingers firm and confident as he pulled you flush against him. 
His gaze held yours with a powerful intensity, and the way he looked at you now was entirely unguarded—no walls, no restraint. 
The flickering tension in his eyes had morphed into something resolute, an unspoken promise of what was about to unfold.
Without a word, his hand found the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair with a possessive strength that made your breath hitch. He leaned down, his mouth inches from yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the air thick with the silent demand. 
His lips brushed your ear, his voice low and commanding.
"You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?" His words weren’t a question but a statement, one that sent a thrill through you as his grip tightened ever so slightly.
Before you could answer, his mouth met yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips moved with a hunger you hadn’t seen before, a raw, undeniable desire that left you breathless. 
His other hand slid up your waist, his touch heavy and possessive, fingers digging into your hip as he drew you closer. 
Your breaths became shallow, and you kissed him back desperately, going up on your tippy toes just to get a mere few centimetres closer.
When he broke the kiss, his gaze was darker, the restraint that usually tempered him nowhere to be seen. 
His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his grip firm as he tilted your head to look up at him, his own eyes narrowed in focus.
His voice was a hushed growl, each word laced with an intensity that made your pulse race. 
"God, you are the most beautiful living thing I have ever laid my eyes on," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, rough and deliberate. 
There was a fierce possession in his gaze, something raw and electric that left you feeling completely at his mercy.
Without another word, his hand slipped beneath the fabric at your waist, fingers splaying across your hip as he lifted you effortlessly against the wall. 
Your legs instinctively wrapped around him, and he pressed against you, his touch steady yet undeniably commanding, his body anchoring yours in place. 
His lips found your neck again, marking a trail along your skin as his grip tightened, each kiss firm–posessive.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.
His hand slid higher along your thigh, fingers gripping firmly, as if he were staking his claim on every inch of you. 
The last shred of restraint slipped from him as his hand found its way under your dress, and he hooked his fingers around the fabric, shifting it aside gently only to insert his fingers in you with such dominance. 
As soon as you felt his fingers stretch you out, you let out a loud gasp into the echoing hallway.
His other hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your mouth to his in another searing kiss, one that left you breathless and desperate for more.
You could feel the controlled power in every movement he made, every flex of his fingers, his touch radiating an intensity that made you feel alive, like you were the center of his world in that moment.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He muttered, his voice a quiet, fervent rasp as his fingers attempted to memorize the feel of your warmth, his restraint slipping more with every word, every touch. 
With a low growl, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling momentarily empty until he undid his belt, his movements steady yet purposeful, his gaze dark with intent. 
The sound of the buckle hitting the floor sent a thrill down your spine, and as he freed himself, the anticipation pooled hot and heavy in your core, building until it was almost unbearable.
His hand slipped up to the back of your neck, threading through your hair before giving a firm tug, tilting your head up so you had to look him in the eyes.
"You want this?" He muttered, his voice a rough, intense whisper that sent a shiver through you.
"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with all the want and need that had been building up between you two for so long.
And then, with a slow, deep thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. 
The sensation was electric, sparking along every nerve as he began to move, each thrust measured but intense, the pressure building with a relentless rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name.
The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, each stroke reaching deeper, grounding you even as it felt like you were unravelling. 
Your body become hypersensitive, alive to every rough brush of his fingers, every scrape of fabric against your hot skin. 
The sensation built up in waves, crashing and receding, leaving you on edge, breathless, yet craving even more. 
Each time he pulled at your hair, a sharp spark ignited deep in your core, a flare of pleasure that spread outward, filling you up until it was all you could feel. You arched into him, mouth parting as a moan escaped you, your body yielding to every movement, every rough, deliberate stroke.
His name slipped from your lips like a prayer, your hands tangling in his hair, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you steady. 
Each sound you made seemed to spur him on—his movements gaining intensity, each thrust deliberate, meant to leave you aching in the best way.
He tightened his hold on your hair, tilting your head back to expose the curve of your neck, and his mouth found the sensitive skin there, adding another layer of sensation that left you trembling beneath him. 
The roughness, the unrestrained way he claimed you, made every nerve feel alive, sparking with pleasure until it was almost too much.
"Look at you," he rasped, his voice dark, almost reverent, as his gaze raked over you. "So beautiful…"
Every word, every thrust, pulled you closer to the edge, and as he continued, the pleasure reached a fever pitch, winding tighter until there was nothing but him, the feeling of his body against yours, the raw intensity of his movements. 
And as he drove into you one last time, the release hit, crashing over you like a wave, leaving you breathless, clinging to him as the pleasure pulsed through you in endless, dizzying waves…
The next morning, you sat at your desk, barely focused on your work. 
Memories of the night before were still fresh, each one laced with the lingering intensity of every look, every touch, every whispered word. 
You couldn’t shake it—not that you wanted to.
Lost in thought, you glanced across the room at your coworker, Shoko, sitting a few desks over. Gathering yourself, you leaned in her direction, trying to sound casual as you asked, “Hey, Shoko. What do you think about Nanami?”
Shoko looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. “Nanami Kento?” she repeated, a curious edge in her voice. “The company’s old owner?”
You blinked, the words not fully registering at first. “Yeah, I mean… the guy from last night,” you said, a little thrown. “Wait—old owner? How old is he?”
Shoko’s confusion only deepened. 
She tilted her head, clearly wondering if you were joking. 
“What do you mean?” she said slowly, almost cautiously. “Nanami… he’s been dead for, like, twenty years.”
Your stomach dropped, a chill washing over you. 
“Dead?” You managed, your voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah,” Erin continued, oblivious to the shock freezing you in place. 
“Apparently, he was murdered. People say his spirit haunts the office building.” She paused, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. 
“And that old mansion where they host the Halloween party every year? He used to live there.”
Your breath caught as the room around you seemed to spin, last night’s encounters replaying in your mind with an entirely new—and chilling—clarity.
You tried to keep your expression steady, but your mind was racing. 
Shoko had already turned back to her work, unaware of the spiral she’d just set off inside your head. 
You took a steadying breath, trying to make sense of what she’d just said.
Did I just… fuck a ghost?
The absurdity of it clashed with the vivid, undeniable reality of what you’d felt last night—the warmth of his hands, the low rasp of his voice, the possessive way he’d held you. 
Everything about Nanami had felt so real, so solid. 
You could still feel the ghost of his fingers on your skin, the way your heart had raced when he whispered against your ear.
Your pulse quickened again, and you stole a glance around the room as if everyone might somehow know, but no one was watching you. 
The memories replayed in your mind, each one taking on a new edge as you recalled his almost otherworldly intensity, the quiet way he’d moved, how he seemed to always appear exactly when you wanted him to… or perhaps, when he wanted to be seen.
You swallowed, trying to shake the thoughts out of your head, but Erin’s words echoed persistently. ‘Murdered twenty years ago. His spirit haunts the office building…’
And then, a detail you’d brushed off last night resurfaced. 
He’d told you that ‘you are the most beautiful living thing he had ever laid his eyes on,’...that phrase had seemed flirtatious then, but now, it felt loaded with an eerie truth.
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ty for hosting @fizee ur the best sorry I was so delayed LMAO
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bibibudin666 · 1 year ago
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I cannot stop imagining pulling Eddie's hair into a makeshift pony tail while he eats you out-
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18+ Minors get the fuck out.
Warnings: reader has a v. slight cursing. cunnilingus. hair pulling.
Want a request? Check out my new MuLTi-Fandom Prompt list~
"Fuck-" You groan out.
Eddie peppers kisses from your hole to your clit, he latches his lips around your clit and sucks on the nub. His palms pressed against the inside of your thighs, opening up your legs more so he can taste more.
He continues his assault against your pussy and you don't know how much you can take. He squeezes at your soft flesh, keeping your legs held down so you can stay still.
If Eddie does one thing passionately, it's eating you out. He treats it as if it was his last meal on earth, he would never dare half ass giving you pleasure. It's what he lived for. He adored the way your face would contort with pleasure and the way you squirmed underneath his touch.
His eyes flick open as he looks up at you, you can't hold back the moan that slips past your lips. You can see him smirk up at you, his eyebrows raising at your noises. He pulls back and peppers kisses on the inside of your thighs.
"You're so beautiful Sweetheart." He bites his lip.
"Eddie." You breathe out, "Please."
It wouldn't take long for you to come undone. As much as you wanted to revel in the pleasure you couldn't hold it in for much longer, you needed your release.
"What's wrong?" He licks a stripe up your slit and you throw your head back, moaning out.
He rubs your thighs up and down, "Come on, you gotta talk to me."
"Don't stop-."
He couldn't even let you finish your sentence before he delves back in. As much as he wanted to tease you, he missed your taste and wanted to please you again.
"Never." He whispered in-between licks and kisses.
You couldn't keep your hands to yourself at this point, reaching down to squeeze at his forearms. Sliding them down and placing them over his hands, to placing them on the sides of his face. He was so handsome when he was between your legs, the way his long hair cascaded over his face makes you melt. It was just one of the many things you loved about him. But as much as you loved his hair, you loved seeing his face more.
You don't know what came over you, your hands went from the sides of his face to tangle into his hair. You pulled it all back and held it in your hand, putting it into a makeshift ponytail as you held his hair up away from his face.
"My handsome man." You said breathlessly.
Eddie wasn't expecting those words to come out of your mouth, taken aback he pulls away once again. This caused you to groan out, you were so close. You could see the red on his cheeks as he peered up at you, quickly averting his gaze after he meets yours. All thoughts fly out the window when you compliment him, as something he's not fully used to - although you do it constantly. He is still surprised when anything remotely nice about him comes out of your mouth.
You felt a surge of power come over you, especially after seeing the blush spread across his cheeks. You pull his hair back with your hand, forcing him to look up at you again. He whimpers at the force and quickly bites his lip to quiet the sound.
"Did I say you can stop?" Your other hand strokes his cheek as he shakes his head.
You continue, "Keep going then."
He wastes no time shoving his face back into your pussy, lapping at you sloppily, not wanting to deny you any pleasure that he already has. This has you pulling at his hair even harder, your thighs start to sting from how hard he's gripping at them.
It isn't long before the familiar pressure starts to build up again, he's stopped way too many times for your liking and you weren't going to let it happen again. You can't handle it if he did.
The hand that once stroked his cheek was now long gone, he missed the warmth of your hand but the hand that was tangled in his hair was enough. You pulled at the sheets and his hair, your body convulsing the closer you got.
He laid his tongue flat against you, rubbing at your clit just right. It was enough to finally push you over the edge as you cried out his name. You jerked his head back but he pushed forward, not wanting to miss a drip that leaked out your hole.
As you came down from your high, he lapped up all your juices. Making a mess of spit and not bothering to be quiet about it one bit. You were breathing heavily, your hand untangled from his hair and it fell down framing his face once again.
He looked up at you with his doe eyes and a soft smile. You gave him a tired smile back, too spent from your orgasm. He crawled up your body and gave you a sloppy passionate kiss. Letting you taste your juices on his lips and tongue. You grabbed the sides of his face, holding him there for a few more moments when he tried to pull back.
When he did pull back he was grinning now, pleased with the way your lips glistened with your juices as you stared back at him.
"I think I like when you pull my hair up like that."
"You think?" You giggle out.
You wrap your hand around his hair once more and give him a sharp tug. His eyebrows scrunch together as he bites his lip.
"I'm definitely going to be pulling at it more often then." You grin, pulling him in for another kiss.
~
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faeble-drabbles · 4 months ago
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Hello! If you don't mind, I'd like to ask for a few headcannons of Kite, Wing and the main four (aged up Killua and Gon) with a s/o who seems like they're very weak and mild, but are strong and intimidating af during battle. Fem!reader if you can please.
Thank you!! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠`⁠*⁠)
Thank you for being the first requester!! <3 I will never not be in the mood to write some HxH <3 Even though this wont be spicy, all characters in this are/aged up to be 18+ (Also probably gonna leave out Kurapika and Leorio this time around, probably gonna keep my limit at four characters per post)
•°• KITE •°•
+ This man was HIGHLY against bringing you along on one of his little adventures. Weak or not, the places he went were highly dangerous and he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.
+ It took a lot of convincing but he eventually agreed. But you best believe he is gonna be glued to your side and watching your surroundings like a hawk.
+ Just in a brief moment of being distracted by talking with you, Kite was attacked by a poacher with powerful nen abilities. Kite was about to attack the man, but something flashed past him before he could react.
+ "How DARE you hurt Kite, you asshole!!" With that battle cry, you used your abilities to take down the poacher with ease. Which left a confused and awe-struck Kite, standing in silence. When did you become so powerful??
+ Kite snapped out of his daze when you returned back to him and started worrying over his injury. Kite just gave a smile and shook his head. Looks like he had absolutely nothing to worry about with you by his side. You had each others backs.
•°• WING •°•
+ You had been training for a while with Wing and during that process, eventually started to date as well. Unfortunately for you, this made Wing a bit more protective over you.
+ It also was starting to seem like Wing was slowing down your training a bit. When approached about it he would just give the same "I just want to make sure you are fully prepared and ready" talk.
+ You hated to go behind his back, but you had to prove him wrong. You signed yourself up against a powerful opponent at Heavens Arena, making sure the fight was as soon as possible so that Wing could not interject. + When Wing heard your fight announced, he was both furious and terrified, especially when he saw the other opponent. Did you really have to pick out the strongest looking fighter just to spite him? He wanted nothing more than to jump on that stage and stop it before it even could begin.
+ Right as Wing was considering taking action, the fight had already begun. As the fighter barreled towards you, Wing found himself clench his eyes shut tight. The sound of surprised cheers made him chance another look, just to find you beating the shit out of the other fighter. It was a complete shock to him watching his sweet s/o give such a brutal beatdown. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride.
+ When Wing found you after the fight, he made sure to give you a earful of how your actions were very irresponsible and dangerous. But once he was done, his face soften to a smile. "...And I'm sorry for doubting your abilities. You are very powerful and I can not wait to see you grow even stronger"
•°• GON •°•
+ Gon was never really attracted to people for their strength, but their hearts is what caught his attention. So when he met you, he never viewed you as strong or weak, just a good person with a big heart. And that's what lead the two of you to dating.
+ Though finding out you had nen abilities alone excited him. Gon wanted to know everything about your techniques. What did it do? How does it work?? How did you train to perfect it??? He's just in awe.
+ Even knowing you possessed nen powers, he never really associated it with you being a fighter. He didn't exactly view you as weak but he also didn't really expect you to single handedly beat up a group of powerful hunters.
+ The group was causing problems with a local villager and right as Gon was about to give them a piece of his mind, you got there first. He wasn't sure what was more surprising, the profanities spilling from your mouth or the fact that you took on all these skilled hunters with such ease.
+ You best believe when the fight is over, he's going to be drowning you in praise and even more questions. "Wow!! You keep getting more amazing with each day!! You're so cool Y/N!!" If you have not already gotten your hunter license, he's definitely going to beg you to give it a shot.
•°• KILLUA •°•
+ Similar to Gon, Killua isn't attracted to people for power alone. Yes power can impress him, but he prefers to be around people who love and appreciate him for who he is, flaws and all.
+ Which you do. You know all about Killua and all the awful things he's gone through, as well as all the good times and friends he has met. Meanwhile, there is still something he had yet to discover about you.
+ Killua had needed to get something from his home, but did not want you to get involved in any of his families shenanigans (God forbid if his mother found out the girl he was dating was in reach). He instructed you to wait a bit of a distance away from the gate and he'd be back as fast as he could.
+ After a while though you started to get impatient and wondered if he ran into any trouble with his family again. Anxiety started getting the better of you, leading you to make a trek up to the gates.
+ Right as Killua was about to exit, he nearly jumped when the gates had opened before he had the chance to touch them. And to make it more surprising, it was the 6th door out of the 7. All of his family had been home, so who..?
+ You ran through the gate and gave him a hug. "Good! I was starting to get worried about you!" Killua couldn't even respond for a moment, he was still in shock that you had managed to open all those training gates without much effort. At the same time, he couldn't help but smile in knowing that his s/o he loved so much was secretly so powerful.
+ "So you want to tell me what sort of training you've been through to be so strong? I might have to get some tips from you, heh"
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urlovebot · 5 months ago
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✧.* Been Away
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c/w: gp! bada. light edging (bada receiving), bada gets the sloppy toppy. degradation, cursing, little to no praise tbh idk i just want bada to be mean to me so i assume you all would want that too. pushing the bada head pusher agenda.
a/n: im not taking requests rn :/ im just writing for funsies again so do not expect consistent fics either 😭😭 enjoy!! love u!! send me some feedback!! missed u guys!!
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you just could not get over how fine your girlfriend looked today. she wasnt wearing anything special, but something about the white shirt, black pant combo along with the way she sat, legs spread and arms resting along the back of the couch… it was really getting to you. so naturally, as you two are lounging on the couch and your head lays in her lap, your hand just so happens to glide over the crotch of her pants-
“stop.” bada doesn’t spare one look.
you roll your eyes and huff. how dare she look this good and not want to fuck immediately right here on this couch?
“because i’m a normal human being. with normal hormones.” bada coos at you, glancing down at you this time. her hand moves to pet your hair, “you are just batshit crazy.”
you stay silent and continue to move your hand along the zipper of her pants. her hand comes down to grasp at your own as she whispers out what she might consider a threat, but you take as a challenge.
“don’t start some shit you can’t finish.”
and baby that’s all you had to hear. your hand flies out of hers and swiftly unzips her jeans. you hear her sigh behind you and all caution is thrown to the wind. you pull yourself up and swing a leg over her lap. almost instinctively her arm wraps around your waist. you lean down and kiss your pretty girlfriend. she kisses back, tongue licking into your own mouth. you gently close your teeth, bada hisses and then grins at you, “fucking brat.”
you giggle and remove yourself from her lap. her eyes never leave you as you position yourself on the floor between her spread legs. your hand glides along outline of her hardening length. you watch as she takes her lip between her teeth. you fully unzip her pants and mouth over her hardening cock and you hear her take a deep breath.
“stop teasing me sweetheart.”
you giggle and pull down the waistband of her underwear to unsheath what was hiding underneath. bada was hung. your mouth waters as you take her in your hand.
“spit on it.”
your eyes meet bada’s as she waits expectantly.
“no.”
your eyes flick back to her cock. you press small kisses along the length. bada’s letting out small huffs as she feels your lips travel along her. despite being a pain in the ass, you truly knew how to make her feel good.
you kiss back up her length and take the tip into your mouth. bada gathers your hair out of your face with her hand, keeping the grip on your hair while you swirl your tongue to gather the beading precum on her tip. her hips buck up into your mouth,
“stop fucking teasing y/n. you said you wanted this- fuck-” her stomach tenses as you’re hand grabs the base of her cock, “you’re usually so eager- shit- why are you taking your time today?”
you pull your mouth off of her, stroking her in the meantime, “just wanted to admire you,”
your eyes look over her length and glimmer, “its so pretty.”
bada’s cheek redden and she rolls her eyes in response, “you’re so fucking weird. why are we talking about how pretty my dick is?? girl get to-”
bada abruptly lurches forward, grip tightening on your hair as you take most of her length down your throat. a moan rips its way out of her throat as she relaxes back into the couch. the next time she opens her eyes, theyre unfocused and hooded.
your hand strokes what your mouth cant reach and bada swears in that moment that you’re made for her. that angels brought you down and placed you on her fucking doorstep.
“more y/n,” she slurs out, hand pushing your head further down her length, “take more.”
she feels you choke around the girth of her cock and it only spurs her on further, her hips fucking up into your mouth.
you let her fuck your mouth until you were lightheaded. with two taps to her thigh she lets you up. you shake as you take in quick breaths. bada releases the hold on your hair and gets ready to splutter apologies but when she looks down at you, you’re grinning. you’re grinning at her while theres spit running down your chin.
“god you’re fucking nasty.”
she leans down and presses her lips against your own, cleaning up the mess you made on your face. she pulls away, places a soft kiss on your forehead, and proceeds to gather your hair in her hand to get your warm, wet mouth on her cock once more.
she guides your mouth up the side of her shaft and once you reach her tip, shes pushing your head back down again. she feels the head of her length hit the back of your throat and her eyes roll. she loved you. in moments like this, she remembers how you trapped her into a relationship.
“mouth feels so goddamn good around me baby.”
bada lets out a couple strangled moans as you let her guide your head the way she wanted. her hand grabs yours and places it against the base of her cock. you get the message and squeeze.
bada fucking loved being edged. she loved when youve gotten her so close so many times that her balls fucking ache at the thought of emptying herself inside of your mouth.
“fuckfuckfuck feels so good doll, keep squeezing me like that- please baby”
you moan around her length, tears threatening to fall as she relentlessly fucks your mouth. she chases a release that she’s purposely denying herself.
the closer bada gets to an orgasm, the filthier her mouth gets.
“you like when i use you like this sweetheart?”
“my good little fleshlight, hmm?”
“fuckin’ whore- shit- letting me fuck your mouth like this.”
finally she feels her balls tighten up and her cock twitch. she pushes your head down to the very base of her length and fucks whatever is left into your mouth.
“gonna cum. fuck i’m gonna cum in this filthy fucking mouth.”
and when she does cum, she lets out a long, high pitched whine. groans and curses follow as she tells you to let it spill out of your mouth back onto her cock. she loves the feeling of the warm liquid spilling over her length.
she slurs out how good you’ve been for her, how much she loves you.
when she releases you, you’re chest rises and falls at an erratic pace. she truly did not give a fuck how you were doing— what mattered most to her is shooting her spunk down your throat.
she smoothes down your hair as you lay your head on her thigh, catching your breath.
“you okay? i know i got a little rough at the end…”
you take a deep breath,
“it was fine.”
bada feels anxiety rise up her spine as she watches you trace shapes onto her other thigh. was it bad? was it too much? did she hurt you? she opens her mouth to voice her concerns when you lift your head up,
“you wanna do it again?”
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