#the hands are okay it’s fine I’m sane I’m sane
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Sunday X Marvin
It’s been almost twelve hours without a text from Marvin. Usually, he’d respond within minutes of a message. A little emoji or acknowledgment that he was alive. But nothing. No response from the good morning text he sent when he woke up. Usually, Marvin was the one who woke up early and Sunday would wake up to a cute morning image of Higgins or a bedheaded, shirtless Marvin, but no message today.
“You good, Kit-Kat?” Sunday types hitting send before his anxieties get the better of him. Marv was probably just too engrossed in a book to even acknowledge their phone. It’s happened before on a handful of occasions, but they always replied within a few hours with an apology or an excuse or something.
But Sunday can’t stop this gut feeling that something was wrong. That something was wrong. He’s been getting that feeling a lot lately. Especially since the twins rose to power in the magic circle. This twisting feeling in his soul, in his magic. But this was so specific to Marvin like a magnetic force pulling him towards his friend.
And it’s not like Marvin was going to ask for help if he needed it. Marvin has always been far too prideful for that. Raised by absent parents and a semi-sane mentor who could never be understood by anyone but Marvin, he was always destined to be an aloof person. It probably didn’t help that they were bullied for several years before Sunday came into the picture.
Sunday was also an outsider always working twice as hard to keep up with the advanced classes he was put in. Magic always seemed to come so easy for everyone else. He’s lucky that he made the cut for the Magic Circle. It would have been so easy to cast him aside and label him a dud, but he was given a single chance. Same with Marvin.
It took a lot of time for Marvin to open up. Lots of shared candy bars, healing magic, repairing uniforms with his more practical sewing skills before Marvin even told Sunday his name. But over time Sunday could feel Marvin slowly opening up. Ivy creeping up his ivory walls until it flooded his heart.
Now they’re 28 and living life, Marvin had a bookstore that never seemed to be open and Sunday worked for the Magic Circle, always one of the first people to be in the loop. And as much as it annoyed the higher-ups, Marvin was always the first one to know what was going on. It was a good thing the two of them had going on.
Late-night phone calls that only ended when one of them fell asleep, cute photos, and inside jokes. Nicknames and practice kisses. And yeah their heart always skipped a beat or two or just flat-out stop when Marvin would lay their head in their lap, or hold his hand. But it was fine. Marvin was always skipping from person to person, never sticking with one partner for more than six months. Bar hookups, tinder profile pictures, bumble notifications, that always broke his heart just a little bit. But what was he going to do? Marvin was having fun and Sunday didn’t want to ruin their fun.
Maybe that’s where Marvin was, on a date or he slept over at a guy’s house and forgot a charger. But still, that didn't feel right.
Sunday looks back down at their phone. No notification. Okay, time for a wellness check.
“I’m coming over if you don’t text me in the next three seconds.”
“3”
“2”
“1”
“On my way. I’ll bring sushi as a peace offering.”
Sunday grabs their favorite green cloak throwing it over their shoulder and goes out into London’s warm Summer night.
—---
Sunday knocks on the door, okay more like pounds, trying to get Marvin’s attention. He wedges his cell phone between his ear and shoulder and listens to the ring over and over again before getting the standard “leave a message”.
“Vin, Kit-Kat, it’s me. Open up. I bring gifts and if you don’t open up I’m gonna portal up to your apartment. So do us both a favor and let me in!” He kicks the door a few more times to send a message before hanging up and shoving his phone into his pocket. Sunday looks up at the flat, the lights are on which is a good sign at the very least. He sighs yanking his bear charm free from his neck letting his mask form on his face. Magic wasn’t exactly allowed in public without a permit but he’s technically on Marvin’s property. He won’t get nicked for that. Hopefully. The portal revealing Marvin’s room appears and he steps through closing the portal behind him.
Higgin’s little merp and rub against his thighs settle some of his nerves but the main problem still remains. His mask swirls back into the necklace on his chest and the golden magic fades from his fingertips as his he pets Marvin’s little familiar.
“Hey, Higgy. Where’s Marvin? You gonna lead me to him?”
Higgins jumps up on the bed ignoring Sunday’s request. Typical little cat. Sunday pushes the door open wandering out into Marvin’s kitchen and living room. Notes, pictures, and drawings line the walls looking like the workings of a madman. And in the middle of it all Marvin, still in his pajamas, pacing around the room.
“Uh, Marv? You there mate?” Sunday asks, but Marvin keeps pacing and muttering to himself. Sunday sets the dinner down on the countertop and walks over the scattered pages of Marvin’s writing. Slowly, carefully with each step Sunday moves forward trying not to mess up any of Marvin’s work. Their hand finally finds their way to Marvin’s shoulder and in an instant, Marvin’s mask is on and lighting in his hands.
“Woah! Hey! Hey! Marvin! It’s me! It’s me.” Sunday says throwing their hands up.
“Sunday. Sunday…Sunny.” Marvin says, almost as if he’s in a trance.
“Yeah, Kit-Kat. It’s me. It’s Sunny.”
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“I used a portal and you weren’t answering your phone. I got worried.”
The fogginess in Marvin’s eyes clear and they flash into so many emotions going from fear to sadness to anger all within seconds.
"I don't need your help, Sunday." Marvin’s green eyes drill into Sundays. And for anyone else, this would probably strike fear into their souls. But not Sunday. Sunday knows that look. It’s not true anger, if it was he’d be on fire. It’s that pride getting in his way. The fear that if he opens up he’ll be left alone on the porch begging for someone, anyone to stay. He has to push everyone so far away that his heart will never bleed like that again.
"Yeah, I know, kit-kat. You don’t need anyone’s help." Sunday whispers in a soothing tone taking a step forward. Marvin may growl and snarl like a feral cat from time to time but Sunday knows him better than anyone, including Marvin himself. He was just tired and clearly scared of something going on. Whatever he found must have truly shaken him to the core.
“Don’t say it in that fucking tone Sunday. Why the fuck are you even here? Did the twins send you? Because you can tell them-"
"I came because I was worried. So can you just sit down for five minutes and let me bring you the dinner I bought before Higgins eats it?” Sunday’s golden glow wraps around their fingertips and rests against Marvin’s face. Their thumb go up and down their beard as they try to soothe Marvin.
“Sunny…”
“It’s sushi, and I know you have some good wine. Let me get us some glasses and you can tell me what's going on.”
“Probably skip the wine.”
“Vinny, did you not eat this morning?”
“I think so? I can’t remember.”
“Okay, let's sit down.” Sunday grabs his friend’s hand and guides him down to the couch. Marvin’s head instantly rests against Sunday’s chest and Sunday finds his hand in his friend's long brown hair. “Do you want to talk first or eat?”
“What did you bring?”
“Sushi.”
“I want to eat first.”
“Okay, kit-kat. Let me grab the food.” Marvin squeezes him closer, refusing to let him get up from his spot. Sunday sighs knowing that he isn’t going anywhere. He opens a small portal allowing the food to fall through and onto the coffee table in front of them.
“I got California rolls, rainbow rolls, and some salmon nigiri.”
“You spoil me, Sunny.”
“I know.” Sunday begins to unpack all the takeout from the plastic bag laying it all out on the table. He hands Marvin a pair of chopsticks and lets him dig in. With Marvin off of him, he gets up and goes back to the kitchen. He grabs a glass from his friend’s cabinet and fills it to the brim with cold water.
“You want me to grab Higgins?”
“No, that’s okay. He’d just get lost in the papers anyway.”
“Yeah, I was gonna ask you about that.”
“It’s all my notes, I’m trying to decipher some of them.”
“Why? Aren’t they your notes?”
“Yes, but I can’t remember writing some of them.”
“Well, you’ve written so many it doesn’t surprise me you’ve forgotten some of them.” Sunday sets the cold glass in front of Marvin and nudges him towards it.
“No that’s not the issue, the issue was they were wiped from my memory.”
Sunday shakes his head and jolts back in surprise. Ras has been wiping Marvin’s memories? Thats-why would he do that? He practically raised Marvin. The Magic Circle has always said that he was dangerous and an outsider. Breaking the rules of magic and not conforming to the laws set in place to keep the world safe, but mental magic? On Marvin? That’s almost too much to bear. No wonder Marvin got so angry. His trust must be shattered on the floor in a million pieces.
“Ras has been using mental magic on you?! We gotta report this! You can stay at my house until the council has him imprisoned.”
“What no! Sunday! Ras hasn’t been tampering with my memories. The Circle has been.”
The Circle? No. They were a bit…shifty but what governmental organization isn’t?! Members of parliament and even the prime minister took bribes and did some shady stuff and they were in charge of the country! Don’t even get him started on the mess that was America's government system. But there's no way that The Magic Circle was doing something like that to its members. To Marvin. To Him.
“Marvin, I think-”
Marvin yanks off his necklace and lets his cat mask form in his hand. The green ethereal glow signaled that some enchantment had been left on it.
“I have it recorded. The twins, they took so much away from us, Sunny. Just look.”
Sunday takes the mask and places it on his face. Green-tinted visions of the past come before his eyes. That’s him in the corner, looking over at Marvin, but he definitely doesn’t remember this. A dead body on a slab with the twins matching fox masks firmly on their faces. Their muffled voices told them to leave the room and like the good peons they were, they left.
“We’ve reached the limits of what direct observation can show us.”
“Even magical observation is insufficient.”
“Necromancy then.”
The twins cast a spell causing the body to rise up. Sunday’s never seen anything like it. He’s always been told something like this was illegal except in the hands of the authorities. People with permits and power. He couldn’t even pay attention to the answers the body was giving, too shocked by the twin's actions to do anything.
The body collapses back on the table and Sunday almost does as well. But just when he thought the worst was over.
“We might use Mind’s Eye.” One of them says. Mind’s Eye was one of the most dangerous spells that could be cast on such a body. The Malia it takes could easily drain that of the corpses and the users, leaving everyone involved just dust on the floor.
“The risk would be enormous.”
“To lesser magicians than we.”
“Very well we do need answers.”
“There remains malia sufficient in the husk to achieve it once.”
The twins touch their fingers to the corpse's skull letting the purple mist swirl around the room chaotically. Sunday can’t make out the images but he knows in his soul it’s bad. The body screams out like it’s dying again before crumbling to ash.
The twins put their masks back on allowing everyone to rejoin them. Sunday and Marvin are the first to come in but still, Sunday can not remember even being in this room.
Sunday is all but helpless to watch as Marvin picks up his mask as the twins talk.
“We learned much from this vessel, but little of substance.”
“The circumstances of its death were byzantine and inconsequential.”
“A matter of science. Nothing with which to trouble ourselves. Whatever happened to this man does not concern the magic circles. We needn’t investigate further.”
“You needn’t even remember what transpired here.”
The twins chat to cast a spell and just like that the memory is gone. The recording stops and Sunday takes the mask off of his face.
They took their memories.
They took his memories.
They took Marvin’s memories.
Over a man who died to science?! Over something so simple and inconsequential?! What did they erase that was important?! Did they erase a full days months or even years from his head?! How could they do something like that?!
“Marv, what the hell are we going to do? Can we get those memories back?! I can’t- What else did they take from us?!” Could they take larger pieces? Could they take whole people out of the memory? Could they take relationships? When was the limit where they couldn’t touch the memories?!
“I don’t know. I have regained a few memories they took but that’s only because Ras drilled it in me to record my notes and journal my days. I’m trying to fill the gaps but I think most of them are gone.”
“Shit Marv. What are we going to do?”
“I honestly don’t know. Start recording with our masks? Compare notes?”
“That’s a start I suppose.”
Marvin takes his spot back in Sunday’s chest and Sunday holds him tight. But it doesn’t stop the intense flood of anxiety coursing through his body. Pumped by the growing beat of his heart.
Forgetting Marvin would be like forgetting his own name, his own being. They were so intertwined there was no way they could make them forget each other. Right? They surely couldn’t rip each other away. They would have done that years ago with Marvin and Ras. The twins never kept it a secret that they hated the man and constantly pushed Marvin to ditch his mentor. But Marvin was too stubborn, too loyal to even consider that an option.
He looks back down at his friend only to find him asleep, all curled up in their lap. Sunday smiles and traces over Marvin’s tattoos with their finger.
“No one will take me from you Marvin. I promise. No matter what.” They plant a little kiss on Marvin’s forehead and shuffle to a more comfortable position on the couch. No use in fighting it, he was gonna spend the night on the couch with Marvin. Not the first time this has happened and certainly not the last. He leans over and grabs a blanket from off the floor and drapes it over the two of them.
Sunday wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep, still processing the huge mind fuck that the Magic Circle was doing this. And Marvin’s notes and research were within arms reach; he might as well catch up on what Marvin found. His fingertips find a large leather-bound book and pull it closer. Colorful tabs dot the pages probably signifying different spells he needed.
Sunday opens it up to the first tab to find Marvin’s handwriting. No mention of spells or anything. Sunday immediately closes it and sets it down on Marvin’s back. Not today. There has to be something else he can read to get caught up on all this a spell book or something. But all of the notes around him seem to be in Marvin’s messy cursive writing.
And then something catches his eye. One of the tabs on Marvin's journal had a little sun and a heart. He rarely lets curiosity get the best of him, that was more Marvin’s department, but he has to know what the little doodle of his nickname was doing there. He opens the book back up and begins to read the tabbed page.
I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna ask Sunny out after this meeting. I know we’re already kinda going out but I’m gonna make it official with him today. I’m in love with him and I’m sure he’s in love with me. Just gotta finish this meeting. I’m pretending to take notes but it's so dreadfully boring. I swear the twins are the stiffest people you’ll ever meet in your lifetime.
Sunday doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the tear hits the page and smudges the ink. Did they take away that moment? Did they even allow them to have it? It’s not like Sunday could remember it. But he can just imagine it. Marvin just blurts out their feelings and he just goes red with embarrassment as Marvin uses sweet words until they kiss.
And Magic Circle just took it away like it was nothing.
Did Marvin know? He had to, he marked it after all. But…fuck. Did they take more moments like that away from them? How many times did they confess only to have the Magic Circle have it erased?
Sunday wipes the tears away and takes another deep breath. He looks back down at Marvin and traces his finger across his jaw. He looks so peaceful right now. And as much as he wants to wake him up and tell him that he’s right, that he’s in love with him, that he wants to spend the rest of their lives together. It can wait. One big revelation at a time.
Sunday gives him one more kiss on the head and pulls the blanket up to Marvin’s shoulders. Both of them are gonna need sleep if they’re gonna figure out how to save their memories from future tampering.
“Goodnight Marvin. I love you.”
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I don't usually write shippy stuff but here y'all go!
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Summary: After the events of ghost bride, Vil and Leona decide to continue their competition to determine who is the best suitor. They decide you, being new to the school, are the best option to try and romance.
Multi x GN Reader (Leona, Vil, Ace, Deuce, Floyd, Rook, Azul, Malleus)
Part 2
“Yeah, whatever, you failed too. Doesn’t mean a thing. Any sane person would’ve chosen me over you,” Leona snarks.
“Prove it, then. Let’s choose someone else and we’ll be able to determine who the real winner is,” Vil replies, not bothering to look up from the compact he’s using to apply his makeup.
Leona’s ears perk a little at the idea, but he turns his nose up at it anyway. “Like who? Everyone at this school’s already stepping over each other to get a picture with you. Not exactly a fair competition, blondie.”
“Our dear prefect hasn’t been at the school long, and they’ve never known me as a celebrity since they’re from another world. It seems they would be the fairest way to continue our little competition,” Vil pauses, looking back over at Leona. “If that’s okay with you, your majesty.”
Leona rolls his eyes. “Old bride clearly had no taste. At least the prefect won’t have all these delusional biases about their ‘prince,’” he grumbles. “Fine, they’ll do.”
“Alright, then whoever can get them to accept an invitation to the upcoming semi-formal will be the winner.”
“Deal. Try not to feel too hurt by their rejection, it’s not as though you can compete with a real prince like myself.”
“I’m not worried, you hardly qualify as a prince, lazy second-son that you are. Unless you’re planning to actually try for once? Could it be you have another motivation for wooing the prefect?”
“As if I would go for a pathetic little herbivore like them. I’m in this to prove a point to you, that’s all,” Leona huffs. “You’re the one who suggested them. Projecting, are we?”
Vil smirks at his denial. “My, my, quite the tsundere little kitty you are. I have no reason to deny, I have become quite fond of them recently. Enough to stop you from becoming a perpetual nuisance in their life, at least.”
-
The next day, you sit at your usual lunch table with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, when a certain grumpy lion approaches you.
“Herbivores,” Leona says, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Grim devouring an entire leg of chicken. He turns his gaze to you. “Get up, prefect, I need to talk to you.”
“Kinda busy,” you mumble, mouth full of food.
“Why, hello prefect,” Vil greets, walking over from his table where Rook and Epel watch on. “Ah, let me get that for you.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, gently tilting your face when you look up at him and dabbing at the corner of your mouth. “Now you look perfect.” Vil looks up at Leona, saccharine smile ablaze. “Was this man bothering you?”
You ignore his strange behaviour and decide to just continue eating.
Leona glares at him, spotting the rose in Vil’s hand. “Aren’t you about to do the same thing, Schoenheit?”
Vil scoffs, glimpsing the small jewelry box Leona is subtly holding behind his back. “Hardly. I was simply checking in on my dear friend, who seemed distressed by your presence.”
Between Grim looking over at your food every two seconds and the bickering going on above your head, you decide to give in and let him have the rest of yours. “…I think I’m just going to leave.”
The two housewardens are too busy bickering to notice you making your escape, leaving them with the rest of your table.
“I never knew you felt so threatened by me. You really had to resort to sabotaging my attempts?”
“I was not! You just happened to be in the way of my own plans,” Vil dismisses.
Ace finally looks up from his lunch to address the situation. “What’s up with you, housewardens? Why are you hovering around the prefect like that?”
“Stick your nose out of this, freshman. It’s none of your business.”
Vil sighs. “If you must know, I wish to ask the prefect to attend the semi-formal as my date. I came to ask them.”
Ace looks back in forth in surprise between Vil and Leona. “You too, Leona? Huh, never figured you’d be interested in anyone but yourself.”
“Don’t lump me in with him. This is just a competition for me. Neither of us won when trying to charm the ghost, so now I’m going to take my victory over him.”
Ace relaxes a little at his words, turning to the other housewarden. “You’re doing this for a competition, Vil? I know Leona is shameless, but surely you’d never stoop to his level?”
“It’s not just for the competition. I do like the prefect, but now I have the chance to take them to the dance and to show Leona how much more charming I am than him.”
“I mean, I hate to rain on your guys parade but I think it’s a lost cause. The prefect definitely likes me. We’re best friends after all, so they’d probably choose me if I asked.” Ace says nonchalantly, earning him a glare from Deuce. “Not that I’m interested in them! Obviously, I don’t care. But, uh, if it’s a competition, of course I have to win.”
Deuce rolls his eyes: “You’re such an idiot. And wrong. I’m their best friend.”
“And where do you think you’re going?” Vil asks Leona when he starts to walk away.
“To nap. It’s exhausting dealing with you children. Try not to get in my way, next time,” Leona replies, not bothering to turn around as he saunters away.
-
The next time you’re approached by the housewardens is in the hallway after class. You jump in surprise when a hand reaches around your waist to pull you into an empty classroom. The long brown hair that tickles your face gives you a pretty good idea of who the culprit is.
“Prefect,” Leona greets casually , as if he didn’t just basically kidnap you with no explanation.
“What are you doing? Will you let go of me, please,” you sigh.
Leona loosens his grip and turns you around in his arms to face him. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s so close his breath brushes over your neck.” “For me to let go of you?”
“Leona?! I-”
Your response is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the noise of chatting students approaching the classroom you currently occupy. You and Leona fling apart, but there isn’t enough time for you to calm your flustered face before Floyd, just entering the room, is able to see it.
“Shrimpy! What are you doing in here with sea lion?” Floyd takes in your embarrassed expression. “You haven’t been doing anything naughty, have you? And without me?”
“Nothing happened, eel. Let’s go, prefect.”
“Now you’re trying to take shrimpy away after hogging them all to yourself?”
“Sorry, Floyd,” you appease, not wanting to get into another ridiculous situation, “but he’s right. I have a class to get to.”
“Class is boring. I’d much rather be playing with you, but suit yourself. I’ll just have to squeeze you sometime later!”
Leona trails behind you as you walk to your next class, demanding an explanation from him.
“So why did you try and seduce me?”
“Seduce? You’re so perverted. Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I was only trying to-”
His reasoning is interrupted by Crewel’s glare as you silently head into class and take your spot beside Ace, leaving Leona to get a talking to for making you late.
-
“Leona and Vil have both been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why.”
You miss the side-eye Ace and Deuce give each other as they ‘uh huh’ your venting.
“So,” Ace says, leaning towards you a bit, “Have you heard of the upcoming dance?” He winces when Deuce kicks him from under the table. “It’s kinda stupid, but if you wanted to go-”
“Trappola! Quiet or you’ll have extra work to do after class.”
Crewel seemed to be saving you a lot today.
-
Later, you notice Vil ahead of you, walking by himself through the halls. He drops something on the ground, but walks away before you can call out to him. Picking up his dropped handkerchief, you rush after him, finding yourself in yet another dim, empty classroom.
“Vil?” you call. He turns around, and you hold his lost item out to him. “You dropped this.”
His eyes light up and he smiles when he sees what you’ve brought. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear.” He approaches you, suddenly dropping a kiss on your cheek, making your face heat up. He winks. “Just a little reward for your endless kindness.”
“Uh, it was nothing, really.”
“Nonsense!” Vil leans against the wall, filling your view. “In fact, let me repay you. Do you have some time now?”
Before you can respond, someone flickers the lights on, the brightness now revealing the room was less empty than you assumed. The sound of a violin fills your ears as you spot Rook in the corner of the room, playing beautifully. Epel stands in front of a small table, set with two plates and a vase of roses in the middle. He blushes a little when you spot him, giving you a gentle wave. Both of them wear suits. Epel approaches Vil to remove his school overcoat to put on a more traditional suit jacket.
Still lost in confusion, you let Vil guide you to your seat at the table. He sits down across from you, taking your hands into his. Epel brings out a slice of chocolate cake, setting it between you, before going to sit near Rook.
“Ah, I hope you don’t mind sharing, dear.” He winks again. “You know, I really would like to repay you for your act of kindness.”
“Did you just- have this all set up? In case you dropped something…? It’s really nothing, it took me literally two seconds to return.”
“So humble, it’s one of your many fantastic qualities. I am serious about treating you, though. You know the upcoming dance?” You nod, not liking where this is going. “How about I accompany-”
Before he can finish, the door flies open and Leona struts in. He, seemingly, is not fazed by this set up in the middle of an empty classroom.
He ignores Vil and the others completely, turning to you. “Prefect, we never finished our conversation from earlier,” he grumbles.
“You’re right. Sorry, Vil, but it would be rude to keep him waiting. I better just-”
“Please, I have something important to ask you. Just one moment of you time is all I ask.” Vil places him arm on your shoulder.
“They already made up their mind, Schoenheit. Back off, they wanna come with me.” Leona grabs hold of your hand, trying to tug you out of Vil’s grasp.
Vil does not give in, taking hold of your other hand. “Putting words into their mouth, Kingscholar? They were about to choose me.”
Stuck between the two of them, locked in a glaring contest, you try to pull your arms from both of them.
“Merveilleux!” Rook stops playing his violin, approaching the group of you. “To have two beautiful men trying to make you swoon, c’est le paradis!Would you like me to become a contender for your heart as well?” Rook sweeps his arms around you gently, before Leona pushes him off.
“Fuck off, I don’t need another one of you pomefiore brats swarming around them.”
Rook turns back to you. “He’s quite possessive, are you into that type of man, I wonder? I can be that type too~”
“I’ve gotta go,” you say, taking this chance to run out of the class.
-
You’re asked to sit in on a meeting with the teachers and housewardens, which Vil and Leona decide to use as their last opportunity to win once most of the others have left. Only you, Leona, Vil, and Azul remain, still packing up your things.
“Prefect? I apologize to bother you again, but if I could, I’d still love to ask you-”
Vil is, once again, interrupted before he can finish.
“Prefect,” Leona says, touching your cheek. You turn to face him just in time for him to pull out a jewelry box from his pocket, popping it open in front of you. “I-”
“What the hell? Are you actually proposing to me?!”
“What are you on about?” It’s only then that Leona seems to realize your confusion. “A ring, Ruggie?? I said get something nice, not a ring!”
Ruggie strolls in from around the corner, shrugging. “I’ve never even seen jewelry this expensive before. How would I know what you wanted me to get? I’ll take it if they don’t want it.” He pauses, suddenly remembering something. “Also, did you still want me to bring in the flowers? There’s four hundred roses just sitting in the other room.”
You turn back to Leona incredulously. “Why did you send Ruggie to- Forget it, why have you guys been acting so strange?”
“Leona and Vil made a bet on who could get you to agree to go as their date to the semi-formal. It seems their small, fragile egos were quite bruised from their rejection by the ghost bride,” Azul interjects, finally looking up from his book at the corner of the table.
Vil stares at him. “You truly have no loyalty nor shame.”
“Says you,” you quip.
“Yes, it’s quite pitiful. I heard rumours and used my resources to discover the truth. I thought you deserved to know, prefect.” Azul stands from his chair, approaching where you’re sitting to place a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you still wanted to attend the event with someone who wasn’t planning on manipulating you into it, I would be happy to offer my services.”
Your narrowed eyes prompts Azul’s swift apology.
“Ah, I see now was not the correct time. I shall make my exit.” He leaves the room along with Ruggie, leaving you three alone.
“What is wrong with both of you? You didn’t learn your lesson with Eliza? It’s messed up to play with a person’s feelings like this, I’m not your little prop.”
“Prefect-” Vil starts, cutting himself off at the look you give him.
You give them each one last glare before walking out the door, barely hiding your laughter.
-
“You’re quite the actor, my dear,” Malleus says, slipping your hand into his own as the two of you walk towards Ramshackle.
“I know,” you laugh, “Did you see their faces? I think that’s the first time in his life Leona’s ever looked guilty. His tail was definitely between his legs.”
“Yes, it was rather unbecoming of him,” Malleus chuckles, before stopping his stride. “Although, you could have simply let them know you already belong to another.”
“True, but it shouldn’t really matter. It’s not as though they’re actually interested. They clearly just think of me as some kind of prize to win in an ego competition. Plus, it’ll certainly make a scene when we walk in to the dance together, won’t it?”
Malleus sighs, pulling you into his arms to drop a kiss on your head, before continuing to walk you home. “You are far too naive, my love. Not to worry, you have me to protect you from those beasts.”
#lol this is unserious again#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#malleus draconia x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#floyd leech x reader#ace trapolla x reader#rook hunt x reader#leona kingscholar#vil schoenheit#malleus draconia#azul ashengrotto#ace trappola#deuce spade#floyd leech#rook hunt#twst#twisted wonderland#why did leona and vil lowkey end up having sm tension#leovil slipped in there
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lost n found
summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding
pairing: fiancé!harry x reader
word count: ~2k
You were definitely lost.
Drunk and lost.
To: harry - im so sor:(y
From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx
To: harry - okaY.i love you xox
So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.
Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.
You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.
At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.
Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.
You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.
Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.
Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.
Your phone rang in your hand.
“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.
“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.
“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”
You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.
You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.
Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.
Cue to shaky hands and tears.
“Are y’sure baby?”
“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”
“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”
Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.
The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.
“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.
“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.
Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.
“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”
Harry sounded like he was running.
His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.
“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.
“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.
You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.
“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”
“Mm.”
Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.
This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.
You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.
It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.
“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.
“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”
“Okay.”
“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.
“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.
“Yeah.”
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.
“We are.”
“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”
“So are you.”
“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”
You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.
You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.
Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.
It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.
The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!
“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.
“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.
“Okay. That’s okay.”
“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.
“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”
“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”
“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.
You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.
“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.
Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.
Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.
“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.
He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.
You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.
“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.
“Deal.”
“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.
“Harry.”
“Yeah, love?”
“My head is so dizzy.”
Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.
“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.
“I did not remember.”
He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”
“M’sorry.” You pouted.
“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”
“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.
“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”
“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.
“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.
Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.
“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”
“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.
“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”
“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”
“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”
You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”
“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.
“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”
liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others
yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)
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harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n
jeffezoff Where did you two go?
harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE
harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that
jamescorden Tequila anyone?
harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.
yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please
gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles italy#harry styles mustache#harry styles fic#finelinevogue fic#harry styles fiance#harry styles boyfriend
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reader crying her eyes out because rafe yelled at her..so me omg😢
guys help I made the situation for this so dark 😭
It happens after you’d accidentally walked in on doing some of his business, or as any sane person would call it, hiding a dead body.
you’re in shock, shaking with pure terror as he drags you inside. “I fucking told you— no look at me.” he grabs you by the shoulders once you’re inside “I told you not to bother me while I’m working. right— and you ignored me.”
“Rafe-” you whimper, trying your best not to fall apart then and there. he cuts you off, yelling now, “no. I’m talking now. you do not get to do that! all of this shit I do— all of it is for you, okay? It’s to keep you safe. I cannot fucking do that if you’re getting your nose in business that isn’t yours. so now we’re both in trouble. and that’s on you.” he steps back, chest heaving as he runs one hand through his hair.
you look up at him, lip wobbling as the tears begin to fall. “I’m sorry.” you wail, officially letting the waterworks go.
he looks down for a second before sighing “alright… alright. don’t cry, okay? you’re fine.” he steps forward, hovering a hand over your shoulder before bringing you into his arms.
you cry into his chest, clinging to him desperately. you’re so terrified, and even though he’s the one who your caught carrying a corpse, you can’t help but seek comfort in him. maybe it’s manipulative of him, but you’ll worry about that another day.
“what- why were you- I don’t understand!” you sob, doing your best to make eye contact with him but failing. he doesn’t answer your question, he just shushes you, pulling you back into his embrace and kissing your temple.
“I’ll explain it alll later baby… but uh— for now… why don’t you try calm down then.. we can get ready to go on a little vacation for a bit, that sound good to you?”
you think it over for a moment, because realistically it sounds like he wants to take you with him while he lays low from the cops, but at this point you cannot even think logically, you just want Rafe. “sounds good.” you nod, sniffling sadly.
“good… okay, good. c’mon let’s get you calmed down. go wait on the bed a’ight”
#I kinda hate this#cw murder#anon#lily writes#dark!rafe#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x reader
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Promises to keep - Azriel
You've been happy for too long here is your daily dosis of angst. Part two already written and will be posted in a few days!
Plot: while you are held in a rotten cell, Azriel asks you to promise him something you can't. Because no matter how much he wishes it wasn't true, there was little you wouldn't do for your mate.
Warnings: blood and violence. Kind of graphic.
Azriel had stopped counting the days, the hours stuck on that cell. He had given up around the second week, when he realized losing mental strength over the time wasn’t worthy. Now, the only time keeping him partly sane was the constant drip of water from the corner of the room. When the thoughts were too overwhelming, when the pain wouldn’t let him breath, he focused on the steady drip and tried to drift away.
The cell was cold, almost icy. The clothes he had been wearing when they took him weren’t warm enough – and yet he had given away his jacket, claiming he was fine as he tried to control the chills that rocked his body. It now laid over your body, tucked close to his chest.
It had taken him two days to convince you to take it, and only when you shivered so hard it wouldn’t let any of you sleep, you did.
“Don’t take it off” he begged you when they took him away. “Keep yourself safe”
It had worked so far, because Azriel put enough of a fuss when they approached you that they decided to punish him instead. Other times, it didn’t work, and the jacket came back stained with your blood when they threw you back in.
He felt the first tear of many roll down his cheek, matching the drip of the corner. He tried to keep his body still, not to let you know that he was breaking down again.
But as always, you turned in his arms and caught the tear with the tip of your raw finger. Azriel looked down to your bruised face, that hadn’t healed yet, and his throat constricted around a cry. The soft touch against his own bruises and cuts felt underserving.
“Hey” you whispered, breaking the sinister silence of the cell. Straightening against his hold, you turned so you could face him and held back the groan of pain. “We agreed there would be no tears”
“I know”
It was a silly promise, one neither of you had kept so far.
“I’m okay” you tried to convince him, but your voice was tired, and he knew. “Don’t waste your energy worrying. I’m fine”
“Y/N”
His voice was broken, just like his body. He had always been the strong one, the person who held his ground against torture and pain, who inflicted torture and pain. But with you there, with the life of his mate in the line, he crumbled like a paper boat against the water. Azriel had managed to keep it together for the first two weeks – by the time he stopped counting the time, he had broken down in the night.
If your captors would tell you what they wanted, if they made demands, Azriel knew it would be over for him the moment they put a hand on you. But they hadn’t so far – and that was the worst part. Not knowing what they wanted or why they took you, not being able to consider if the information they wanted was dangerous enough to risk your safeties. He knew he would give them anything by that point.
“They will be coming for us” you repeated like a mantra, over and over again.
Azriel didn’t doubt Rhysand and Cassian were shaking the word to find you, he just doubted they would be able to.
“I need you to promise to never do that again” he started, thinking about the previous hours. “Never, Y/N”
“You know I can’t, baby” the corner of your mouth lifted sadly. “You would have done the same”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t –“ he choked out, the urge of making you understand seeping through his words and body.
“Can’t protect you like you protect me? That’s what you want me to promise?” you cut him off. “To promise you to stay still while they drag you away once more, with those terrible promises?”
“Yes” he hissed, feeling anger, guilt and many other feelings he couldn’t talk about in his chest. “I can handle it. You being hurt? That I can’t do. And they know they can get anything out of me with it. So next time they barge in, please Y/N, please, just… don’t”
“I could ask you the same thing. Would you promise me that, hm?”
That morning, or what Azriel could guess was morning based on the meals they brought, the masked fae had opened the cell before you woke up. Azriel had brushed the sleep fast when he saw them, asking the same questions he had repeated many times before. Who were they, what did they want, where were you, why did they take you. He made demands too, repeated so many times he had learned them by heart. To let you go, to keep him so he could be useful, to have a blanket and more food.
Only silence followed them, and the realization of what they were about to do.
His inner demons, the crumbling fear of his past, had stilled him enough time for you to wake up and come to the same realization. A tall woman carried oil and matches, and a sickening smile on her face. Another fae laughed behind her, deep and masculine, when he saw his face. Before Azriel could finish processing what was happening, you copied his actions from the past. Jumped on the woman who carried the oil, assuring Azriel wouldn’t be the one taken that day.
And no matter how much he had screamed his throat raw, how many fingers he had broken trying to break through the bars, he couldn’t stop it. He would damn those seconds of panic and tightness the rest of his life.
For any answer, Azriel gripped softly your elbow, careful of not moving your burnt hand. The pink skin was raw, the first blisters breaking through.
“I would have preferred them to burn me alive” he confessed, staring at your hands.
“This is not your fault. Any of it”
“Feels a lot like it is” he scoffed, not lifting his eyes. “You need to promise me that. I can’t – if they, if it happens again…”
“Baby, look at me” you begged him, but he didn’t concede. “Az”
Nicknames rolled down your tongue easily, like they had always done. Something about you calling him baby warmed his heart each and every time, the way his name tasted so good on your lips. Azriel squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his face contouring in sorrow. They had broken his leg, pierced his wings, beaten him senseless. Still, the sight of your burnt hands, knowing the similarities with his own, was what broke him.
“I’m sorry” he cried out, shoulders shaking with sobs. “I’m so sorry”
You didn’t answer, only fell against his chest and let him hug you.
The flames licking up your skin hours ago didn’t feel half as bad as hearing Azriel sob. You contained down your own tears, days of torment seeming endless. You were scared, too, mostly for Azriel. Because, since you both had woken up in that cell, he had taken every possible beating and lashing so that they wouldn’t touch you. And you noticed, smelt, the blood on him when he was brought back. Feared the day he wouldn’t wake up.
The faebane in the food you were fed kept the shadows away, but some of his power was still available and circled your ankles. The panic and guilt he felt was palpable through the watered bond, and in the way he pressed against your bruises without noticing.
“We will make it out” you promised him that, or tried to. “They will come. I know”
He only cried in response. Azriel, your tough, brave mate who tortured people for a living, broke in a dark cell that night. He sobbed until his throat was raw and couldn’t mutter any more apologies, cradled your burned hands as if they pained him more than you. He let his broken wings cover you both until you could pretend you were back in Velaris, in your wide bed, hiding from the world.
Dinner was pushed through the bars and you didn’t miss how Azriel held you tighter, even if he knew they wouldn’t come back until the next day.
“Please” he begged once more. “Please, don’t do that again”
The moment you had seen the oil, had guessed their intentions, you were done for. You would have gladly let them burn your whole arms if that meant they would leave Azriel alone. It had hurt, and you didn’t want to think about it, but Azriel was barely hanging by a thread and you would do anything to keep that thread hanging.
When, a few hours later, the cell opened again, you both turned your heads to meet the only male who talked out of your captors. He was tall, ridiculously tall, thin and with long arms that hung loosely. He wasn’t threatening at all, at least he didn’t seem like it. But you intuitively cowered against his presence, and Azriel intuitively hugged you closer.
His onyx eyes were deep pools of nothing, of wisdom and age that had you doubting Rhysand or Cassian would find you. They moved between Azriel and you, earning a growl from the earnest. If he could, you knew he would get up and fight him. Would try, like many other times, to fight his way out. But there was a reason why he had begged you to stay put, why they had the chance to take you.
Azriel’s left shoulder was broken, his arm only twitching and covered in blood. His wings had been ripped to shreds and were healing too slowly. And his legs, sprawled on the ground, had been twisted and sprained too many times.
“You’re losing your charm” he commented, his lip curling in disgust at the sight of Azriel. “I was tempted to think you would be dead by now. One of you”
“Why don’t you come closer and try to kill me yourself?” Azriel hissed, his good arm curled possessively around your waist.
“Oh, I wouldn’t. My friends are doing a mighty job at that”
“And who are your friends?”
It was a common question. When the male had first appeared in the cell, Azriel had bombarded him with questions that had been ignored. But that day, the male looked between you and Azriel, and tilted his head.
“Let’s trade answers, shadowsinger. I will answer your questions as long as you answer mine” he rocked slightly on his feet, the only indication he was curious. “Where does that power come from? What makes you worthy of wielding it?”
“Mine first. Who are you?”
Azriel had been conscious for a long time, considering the things he had gone through. Normally, he lasted conscious enough for you to try and clean his wounds and for him to promise that he was fine. Then, maybe giving his body a day to rest had accelerated his healing process. Still, you felt his attention rapt and alert as the male considered answering or not.
It felt wrong. He could easily pry the answers out of him. Azriel himself had sworn to answer and give anything when you were in their hands. And still, he only pursed his lips.
“I hope you are smart enough to understand that I cannot give you my true name” he smiled apologetically, as if he was truly capable of feeling anything. “But to answer your question, I could say I am someone interested in your powers. Where does it come from?”
“If you want me to talk, you better give me a real answer” Azriel cut back. “You’ve burned my mate’s hands. Beaten her, cut her. Why”
“Because it is funny what love can make out of powerful people” the male looked at you without dropping his smile. “You are powerful enough to kill any of those fae. To break down this place and destroy it from the inside out. But knowing your mate is here too? Love can undermine so much power. May I?”
Azriel’s grunt of pain almost developed in a scream of pain when he stepped on his broken knee. Blood seeped on the ground and bones creaked under his weight. Still, Azriel only threw his head back and bit down his agony, not willing to move away and expose you any further.
The edge of his boot pressed farther on his wound. Proof of how badly hurt Azriel was, was the lack of movement of his foot. His leg had been so brutalized that he couldn’t even move it to step away from danger.
Your heart rose to your throat and you broke another promise you had made to Azriel the first time you woke up in that cell. Don’t show them. Promise me you won’t show them. Let them think I’m the strong one, I’m the one they can’t break. Promise me, darling.
When Azriel lost his breath and his chest stilled from pain, you couldn’t control the sudden urge of power that broke through the room. Without moving from his grasp, that was now painful against your waist, you filled that room with light and threw the man off your mate.
His back hit the wall with a sickening crunch, and if he had been human just like his smell suggested, he would have died. But he didn’t.
He only looked at you with bloody tears on his eyes and dark stains on his ears.
“Oh my! Oh, how wonderful!” the male chuckled. Laughed. His chest trembled with joy as his broken body stared at you from the other side of the room.
You realized that he had been talking about you. About your power, that you had thought was well hidden. You didn’t bother stopping to think how pointless the torments Azriel had endured for its sake had been then, knowing that thought would haunt you back.
Not using your burned hands for support, you raised by Azriel’s side. The faebane wasn’t enough to keep it hidden, since it wasn’t from this world. It only dulled your senses and dimmed the mate bond. But now that it had been set free, your power roared at you to let it go. To wrack that place to ashes and kill them all.
You stopped yourself when you got on your feet. Azriel, still out of breath, gripped your calf and looked up at you with terror. He knew what they had done to your parents, what they did to your kind. Why you were the only one left, and how precious you were to them. All of that paled in comparison of you being his mate.
You could havoc that place, but your power was destructive enough to risk his life. And that made the light of the room dim.
“You’re – you’re wonderful. I had heard rumors, but this! Look at this!” the man kept talking, but you could only look at Azriel. He begged you silently to run, to use that opportunity to flee. “We’re going to be amazing friends, my darling. The best of friends!”
“Sir?”
Standing next to the open door, three pair of eyes stared at you. Your tormenters looked between the remains of light at the tips of your burnt fingers and their fallen master, who wouldn’t stop smiling. Panic rose like bile when you realized what you had done. What he had done to make you do it.
You had only agreed to Azriel sacrificing himself because you knew if they discovered your powers and how much you cared about him, it would be worse. The sudden burst of power had left you dizzy, yet you were aware enough to notice that the male was healing way too fast. Way too powerful for a normal fae.
He pointed at you with a bloody smile, the onyx on his eyes not leaving any white left.
“Seize her”
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!
#imaginemai#imaginesmai#one shot#angst#imagine#imagine mai#imagines mai#x reader#fic#acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel imagine#azriel one shot#azriel x you#azriel x oc#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#actor imagine#shadowinger
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oh no... am i falling in love? (sunoo)
PAIR. high school!sunoo x gn!reader
GENRE. fake dating au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fluff
WORD COUNT. 2.2k
WARNINGS. none!
NOTES. first post kinda nervous!! <//3 i need a sunoo irl he is truly the greenest of green flags
you and sunoo are those friends
you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years
because apparently having the same clear muji pencil case with the holy grail 0.5 black muji pen at the beginning of middle school meant best friends ride or die in seventh-grade culture
like, someone who prioritized aesthetics in notetaking as much as you did? even in the confines of this crusty campus? crazy.
but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, sunoo couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway... who else would he trust enough to exchange his top-tier notes with?
and since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +6 with the introduction of sunoo's other friends [read: the rest of enhypen...]
and at first you were super happy because new friends!
but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of sophomore year or so and went off into their own little world
and you were a little sad
ok maybe a lot sad. devastated, even.
but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!
who even is sunoo anymore lmao you don’t know him
but anyway
it was junior year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o
“[name], why don’t you date someone?”
“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”
“just put yourself out there”
ರ_ರ
ayo... excuse me
so one day you just can’t take it anymore
and maybe you should’ve thought this through but... nope
you don’t pause to think things through
because life is for living in the moment hell yes yolo gang
“umm guys i’m already dating someone!”
needless to say your friends go INSANE
like who tf is [name] gatekeeping from us they’re so fake /j
so like any sane and mentally adept person, you say the first name that comes to mind
“hahaha … sunoo!”
your friends stare at you. flabbergasted, shocked, stunned beyond words.
blink blink
“but … weren’t you guys just friends”
“NO”
you’re panicking but
trust
“we’re in LOVE”
ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off
and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to sunoo's fifth period and placing your hands on sunoo's shoulders
“promise me you won’t freak out”
and ofc sunoo is already freaking out
bc why are you standing in front of the ap lang classroom with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you
and this is how you get into this situation
with sunoo having a literal double take and you doing your best "pls help me out i beg of you" impression
“i can’t DATE you”
what
you give sunoo your best professional face even though inside you’re ???
bc um is it that bad to date you??
you are confused???
you’ve saved sunoo thousands of times in his high school career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE
“WHY NOT”
“BECAUSE”
...
is he being fr rn
obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you turn around to walk away, kind of annoyed
“fine then, i’ll just find someone else to date me.” shrug (dies inside).
as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly sunoo is very concerned and almost a little upset
and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over
“second thoughts?”
sunoo scowls
although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms
lmao who is this and what’s happened to sunoo
you shrug and start to leave for real until sunoo reaches out to tug at your arm
“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”
you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!
｡◕‿◕｡
“perfect!”
but apparently sunoo hasn’t recovered from his fall from before
bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink
kinda cute, but in a best friends way. like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go
but ofc sunoo has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”
rules???
RULES???
this is fake dating sunoo wdyfm rules? that's so silly goofy
“huh?”
“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”
ʘ‿ʘ
oh
he kinda smart for that
“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”
apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?
sunoo is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red
“you can’t just say that?”
????
you are confused bc what does that even mean
“why not?”
“that’s like ... y-you you can’t just say that.”
you are, if possible, even more confused?
“okay and?”
sunoo blinks
pls this boy has the audacity to just shrug
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
u are dumb af sunoo bout to throw hands here
but he won’t bc he loves u <3
so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules
sunoo had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:
1. don’t ruin ur friendship
2. no kissing
3. and ur paying for three rounds of mint choco ice cream after this is over
honestly you think this is kinda rude considering sunoo is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves
so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug sunoo over to your side of the table during lunch and make sure to swing his hand
which actually feels kind of nice??
like you’ve never actually thought about this before
but sunoo is comforting
his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm
and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way
ur friends are shocked. bamboozled.
like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE
and bc they’re all RUDE they grill sunoo
but sunoo is best boy
best bf
and answers all their questions like a pro
that's my man
i mean what???
ur so proud
you let ur head rest against sunoo's shoulder and BITCH
sunoo presses a kiss to ur forehead
YO........................ insane.
why are u so happy? what is this??
it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm
your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute
but ur going through some existential crisis
and later when you’re walking with sunoo to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad
but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with sunoo!
yes, that’s it!
you’re just sad that sunoo always hangs out with his new group and you don’t get to see him as much
so this is nice!
you’re just going through some bff nostalgia rn... it's just gonna take some time for [name].exe to start working again
anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and sunoo just spend so much time together
like you guys have always been best friends, but this feels different
sunoo will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist
the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?"
and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!
you might’ve blushed
okay you did
but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved and bitchless
c’mon... get it together
but whenever you call sunoo and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up
and you’re pretty sure yours does too
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)
needless to say, you kinda don’t want this all to end
because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling sunoo your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend
and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest
wait hold up
uh oh
UH OH CODE RED
INTERPOL INTERPOL.....
did you just admit you liked sunoo?? in a FOR REALS way?
UMMMMM
so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!
you start to act really distant
and now whenever sunoo wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up
and sunoo like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?
did HE make his best friend for life, his 4lifer, uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening
everyone can tell something is up
ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see sunoo and sunoo reacting like the entire light got blown out his life
and bffr sunoo may be innocent but he ISN'T dumb
he knows your schedule he KNOWS you’re ignoring him
and baby is upset
because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him
and now you’re just gone??
that’s not okay and sunoo isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad
if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!
he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper
“excuse me but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”
“oh haha uh sunoo! hi uhh i gotta go 👉👉 ”
sunoo's face falls
and that was it
you just wanna hold his cheeks and tell him things are fine and that you love him
wait WHAT
but sunoo is still staring at you with that wounded look
like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds
bc that’s kinda what you’re doing
omg what’ve you done
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
“sunoo…”
his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash
your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk
but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”
sunoo's face breaks
his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit
“is it something i did?”
WHAT
this boy
kim sunoo is really gonna be the death of you
you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault
sunoo is Not Okay, and he looks so, so concerned for you. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, [name], please”
you shake ur head, already starting to panic. “of course not. it’s not YOU sunoo. i just can’t fake date you because--”
you clamp your hands over your mouth
“because?” sunoo prompts, his voice careful
you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to somewhere, anywhere because this is stupid and you’re scared
terrified, actually
but sunoo just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie
you do that little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only
“do you … do you like me?” sunoo asks
that’s it
it’s out
you’re ready for your entire friendship with sunoo to come crashing down
“do you?” he repeats softly
you try to pull away but sunoo isn’t having it
he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours
you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find
but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important
because his eyes aren’t full of disgust
in fact, that’s further from the truth
kim sunoo is staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused as to how you’ve never seen this sooner
it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe
is this real? chat is this fr rn??
your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs
you nod faintly. “yes. i like you”
the huge grin that spreads across sunoo's face is everything
he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy noise
“i’ve liked you forever, [name], i can’t believe this is real”
what
so u could’ve been dating sunoo before??
“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”
“because you didn’t like me like that!”
BITCH WHAT
“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back
sunoo just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder. “i’m so happy right now.”
and honestly ?
so are you !!
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen blurbs#enhypen fic#enhypen sunoo#kim sunoo#sunoo#sunoo x reader#sunoo imagines#sunoo fluff#sunoo fic#sunoo soft hours#ashtxrie#— ash writes!
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Dick’s fingers stutter sometimes.
Jason doesn’t think Dick really notices. The stutter, stutter, stutter of his fingers as they tap against wood, his leg, anything they touch.
Sometimes things slip more easy through Dick’s fingers than they should. If he’s in a bad way, his whole hand shakes.
He’s never seen anyone with a hand tremor that bad. Jason doesn’t comment on it, though. It’s rude. And besides, Dick’s hands never stutter where it matters, so--so maybe it doesn’t matter so bad.
Then Jason comes back from the dead and he’s mad at Bruce and he’s mad at the whole lot of them but some days he can practically hear the Joker laugh as his crowbar cracks against Jason’s fingers and his fingers stutter, too.
Then Jason reconciles, just a little, with Bruce and the others and he’s in the kitchen making hot cocoa for Dick and his fingers stutter, stutter, stutter around the handle of the mug.
It drops with a sharp crack but luckily doesn’t break. A bit of whipped cream falls to the floor but it’s mostly fine.
Jason puts down the other mug and uses both hands to reach down.
“Best wait a bit,” Dick says, watching. “For the tremors to go. Sometimes they stay a bit.”
“I know,” Jason snaps, but listens (because he’s not stupid) and waits, hands shaky by his side.
Dick’s fingers tap against the counter top. Stutter, stutter, stutter.
“Were you born with it?” Jason asks, looking at the floor.
Dick laughs softly. “I was an aerialist, Jaybird. My parents never would’ve let me flown with hands like these. Nobody sane would.”
“Batman does, and he’s the most paranoid freak of the lot.”
“My grapples are special, Jay. You must have noticed.”
Jason did notice. They wrap twice around Dick’s wrists and have a bit for him to slot his fingers in.
“I thought that was just--you and your fancy gadgets.”
“Yeah,” Dick says, a bit wry, “Fancy gadgets to make sure I don’t kill myself.”
Jason chews on his lips and then says, “You’ve had it as long as I knew you, though. It got really bad every time you fought with Bruce.”
Dick’s eyes are cool as an untouched lake. “You know why I came to Blud, Jason?”
“Got in a fight with Bruce, didn’t you? A big one.”
“You know why we fought?”
Jason hesitates, “I... something about Robin?”
“He took Robin away from me,” Dick says flatly.
Jason sucks in a breath. “I didn’t know that.”
“What, you thought Tim started the tradition? None of the Robins willingly passed on the mantle. Bruce wasn’t exactly in the wrong, though--not that I thought so at the time.”
“What happened?”
“Dent hospitalized me.” Dick raises his voice, a high pitched mockery, “Just remember, it wasn’t me, kid. It was the bat. Then he hit me with a baseball bat. 4/10, okay idea but lame execution. Whatever. Got my fingers. I freaked, and you know that however much we freak, Bruce freaks a thousand times worse. He thought I was gonna die, so he fired me. Scared of losing his kid.”
Jason thinks there might be some old bitterness in his chest. What, so you weren’t expendable, but I was? He took Robin from you because he wanted you to live, but immediately gave Robin to me and let me die?
Out loud, Jason says, “Bruce doesn’t like you facing Two-Face.”
“Bruce always has reasons for the things he does. Even if we might think he’s irrational. I’m the oldest, after all--it’s better I face Dent than Tim, Dami, or even you.”
“I’m not a kid, Dick.”
“You’re still my kid brother, aren’t you?” Dick’s fingers stutter, stutter, stutter against Jason’s counter top.
Jason watches Dick’s fingers quietly, and then looks away.
#dc#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd#i really do want to make this into a 10k longfic but rn i'm just going with the flow#anyways enjoy <3
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Hello! First of all, congrats for your 200 followers ❤️✨. Great job!
Second? I wanna request
8+ 19 in patching up wounds prompt with Nanami ❤️🤭
"Don't go to work today" + "I've got you" + Patching up wounds x Nanami Kento
Words: 3.4k words
Warnings: Some angst, established relationships, mentions of wounds, bruises and stitches, very soft Nanami. If I missed anything, let me know!
A/N: Aaaaaa thank you so much Tarja! It makes me super happy that you decided to request, you know I'm a huuuge fan of your stuff!
This was an entry for my 200 Follower Event, which is still ongoing, so you can request something, if you'd like!
I wrote this in practically one sitting because it was hurting my heart. I knew exactly what to do when I saw the prompts you picked (and I think your choice was quite deliberate as well hahaha!) and I wanted to deliver the best thing ever. It's a bit short, but I just knew if I were to extend myself, we'd end up with a whole novel and I'd get carried away.
Without much further ado, I hope you all enjoy this! I had a blast writing it - I want to hug this man and never let him go! <3
Nanami’s tired sigh signalled his arrival home.
Instinctively, you got up from your spot on the couch and made your way towards him. And the vision before you shocked you to hell and back.
There’s blood all over his clothes; his once white shirt was now tainted a dozen crimson shades, and he was holding onto his stomach as he walked.
You looked at him, at his calm and collected demeanour, at the way his lips pressed into a tight line and his eyes took you in. A sigh of relief left his lips and he all but collapsed on top of you, burying his face on your hair.
“Hey – hey, careful now,” you mumbled, holding onto him tightly but still making sure he wouldn’t fall. “You’re – you’re injured. Kento, what happened?” you asked, looking up and cupping his jaw, looking for any injuries in his face. Thankfully, you find none.
“Occupational hazards,” he muttered against your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It relaxed him. You relaxed him, kept him grounded and sane. As long as he got to come back home to you, he’d be fine – he was sure of it.
“Come on, let’s get you out of these clothes. You need to be taken care of.” You dragged him upstairs, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, and preparing a nice bath for him. While he takes off his clothes (assuring you that he wasn’t a baby and that he could get undressed by himself), you go fetch your first aid kid, far too used to the job of patching him up after long, hard missions.
He got inside the bathtub, warm water relieving his sore muscles instantly. He hissed softly when the water reached his stomach, but he said nothing and just sat down, leaning back against the marble tiles, and closing his eyes. He wasn’t going to complain, not when he knew you were about to probably do the very same thing and reprimand him. He knew you loved him. You cared about him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, sitting by his side, and gently beginning to wash him.
“It was nothing,” he replied, eyes still closed.
“Yeah,” you scoffed in response, “Because a gash in your stomach is nothing. Why didn’t you ask Shoko to heal you up? I’m not a trained doctor, Kento.”
“It was late. Didn’t want to be out longer than necessary and possibly worry you even more about my location.” He opened his eyes, and you stared into those lovely amber pools that had never once failed to guide you. “Besides, I trust you to do it. You’ve patched me up before. Nothing you can’t do again. And I’ll heal up in no time.”
You sighed.
On one hand, it was sweet of him. Kento knew how much you worried about him, knew the restless nights you spent waiting for him to say something, text, call, just tell you that he was doing fine. It was considerate of him to get home right away.
On the other hand, it was so downright stupid. How could a man as smart as your husband think it was okay to switch the powers of a reverse curse user for your amateurish medical skills? Shoko had years of practice and experience. Your experience was based solely on fixing him up. They weren’t good, and he shouldn’t be relying on them as often as he did.
“I know that look,” he says softly, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. You could see the way he winced and tried to play it off as the water being too warm. Your husband never wanted to look weak in front of you. “I trust you. You’ve healed me up well in the past. This is nothing compared to what you’ve done before.”
You sighed and shook your head, continuing your process.
You cleaned the area around the wound, and once he was all clean, you helped him dry himself off with a towel. After that, you disinfected the wound and applied some healing ointments you knew had done the trick in the past. You covered his stomach with some bandage and gave it a soft kiss after you were done. It was sort of your magical touch – after the first time, Kento swore it was that simple thing that had managed to get him to heal up quickly and begs you to do it every time.
“There,” you said, caressing his jaw. “All done. But I’m not stitching you – last time I did it, it got all infected, and I’m not risking your health. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Shoko, and she’ll take care of this. Alright?”
“Yes Doctor Nanami,” Kento smiled dutifully and leaned over to connect his lips to yours. You could still feel some of the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, and tried to push those thoughts away as you kissed him back.
“And now, off to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You helped him up and brought him to your bedroom, where he sat down on your bed with a small grunt. You shot him a worried expression, but he just raised his hands as to assure you everything was alright. With your help, he laid down completely, and you were quick to slot yourself in between his arms. He brought you close and kissed your temple.
“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” you said, yawning right after.
Nanami smiled and kissed your temple once again, muttering sweet words of adoration until you both fell asleep.
The next day, Kento stayed home.
The only time he left, was to go to Jujutsu High, to get checked on by Shoko. You went with him, not wanting him out of your sight – not when he was injured, and the world of curses never slept.
“Everything should be fine now, but you still have to disinfect the wound some more every time you shower,” she said, fetching for the pack of cigarettes on her pocket and lighting one up and turning to you. “You did a pretty good job patching him up. Why the lack of stiches?”
“I didn’t want them to get infected like last time. I figured he’d be better off like this.”
“You still did a good job.” She puffed out some smoke and shrugged. “You’d do a fine job here with me. How about you consider it? I could use an extra set of hands and – “
“With all due respect, Ieiri, I don’t want to get my wife involved in this world.” Nanami cut her off, placing a protective arm around your waist. “It’s bad enough she has to tend to me sometimes, I won’t let her see the gruesome sights I know you have to deal with on a daily basis.”
Shoko shrugged.
“My offer still stands.”
You both thanked her and made your way home, where Nanami offered to cook up your favourite dish as an apology for getting hurt last night. You sat by your kitchen table, happily watching him as he cut and mixed and did a wonderful job at recreating the food you loved so much.
While you two waited, he took you in his arms and spun you gently around the kitchen, swaying to the rhythm of jazz playing in the radio. He hummed in your ear and kissed you gently. It was soft and slow, and the day was yours to enjoy, so you let yourself melt into his touch. Your husband was safe and sound and nothing could reach you two.
It was good. It was great.
In fact, it felt far too good to be true.
And you feared something was coming up to disrupt your peace.
“I was thinking of staying in tonight,” you said against his chest, the soft beating of his heart almost enough to lull you to sleep. Staying in. Yes. Keeping him home. Safe and sound with you.
“And why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, it’s Halloween. I thought we could go out and celebrate it.”
“We don’t have costumes.” Nanami deadpanned.
“I’m sure we’d find something. But now I just want to stay in with you. Maybe order some takeout, watch a scary movie. What do you think?”
Nanami hummed and bent down to kiss you softly once again, swallowing the soft moan you rewarded him with.
“I think that sounds perfect.”
You spent the rest of the day lazing around, curled up on the couch, watching movies or catching up with old shows that had been long forgotten. At some point, you were sure your husband was taking a nap, and you could only smile, glad he was getting some rest.
“I’m going to shower,” you yawned, looking out of the window. Afternoon was turning into night, and you wanted to clean up the laziness off your body.
“I’ll join you.”
“Ha! No, mister, you’re not going anywhere. No funny business until you’re all healed.” You raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t I shower with my wife anymore?” he faked a surprised expression, and you smiled, glad to see your husband allowed himself to be more laidback at home.
“You can, but you would have to keep your hands to yourself, and I know that’s not possible.”
“You offend me, darling. I am familiar with discipline.”
“The hell you are,” you chuckled, standing up and offering him your hand. “But come on. I need to disinfect your wound again.”
He did as you asked, and you found yourselves in the bathroom once again. You were sitting by his side as usual and were carefully tending to his wound when his phone rang.
“Just leave it – that’s Gojo’s ringtone.” He muttered with a sigh – a sigh that conveyed just how frustrated he was with his coworker.
You nodded and went back to working on his wound but were interrupted by the loud noise of his phone once again. You gave your husband a sympathetic look and he sighed once again, nodding. Standing up, you went to retrieve his phone, only to pick the call up while you returned to the bathroom.
“Hello?”
“[Y/N]? Is Nanami in there?” Gojo asked, urgency clear in his voice.
“Wow, hello to you too, Satoru. What do you want Kento for?”
“Just – please, give the phone to him.”
“Is everything okay?” Now you were getting worried. Gojo was never serious, and he sounded far too worried right now.
“Just put him on the phone!”
So, you did. You couldn’t make out just what the conversation was about. Just that Gojo was extremely worried, and he probably wanted Nanami’s help.
“Hm.” You heard your husband mutter. “I see. Shibuya. Mhm. Who else? Kusakabe? Hm.”
You tried to put the pieces together yourself.
There was something happening in Shibuya, and Gojo needed your husband’s help. Other people were going too, and by the list of names Nanami repeated, you could tell it was probably serious – a lot of people were going.
“I’ll be there in 10.” Having said this, he hung up.
“So?” you asked, looking at him.
“Something is happening in Shibuya Station. Gojo needs my help leading a team of sorcerers.”
Your stomach fell.
Of course. It was far too good to be true. The little peace you’d crafted for yourself and Nanami – it wasn’t real. And something did come to disturb it.
Grabbing the hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball next to you, you dabbled it softly all over the wound, trying your best not to apply too much pressure. This whole thing gave you the creeps. You couldn’t tell what it was – wife’s intuition, a 5th sense. All you knew was that you did not your husband to leave the house.
You didn’t want your peace disrupted. You could feel something was about to happen.
“Please don’t,” you whispered, refusing to meet his eyes.
“What?”
“Don’t go, Kento.” You repeated, this time more firmly. “Don’t go to work please, just today” After you were done disinfecting the wound, he stood up and quickly grabbed his clothes. You knew the look in his eyes, the determined look that told you he was entering work mode, he was entering overtime.
He sighed and started walking towards the bedroom, picking the first suit he saw on his closet – the beige one, with the dark blue shirt. You liked that suit. It wasn’t very conventional, he could’ve picked a far more “normal” colour to wear like dark blue or even black – but the tan colour matched nicely with his brown eyes, and the dark blue of his shirt contrasted well with his fair skin.
“Gojo sounded worried. I think this is serious. I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see,” he told you, putting his shirt on and grabbing the holster his blunt sword.
“Please – Kento, you’re injured.” You told him, walking to his side. “You can’t go like this!”
“Shoko healed me up, didn’t she? And so did you. I’ll be fine, I promise.” His voice was as reassuring as always, but all you felt in your stomach was a pit that threatened to swallow you whole.
“Not tonight. I – I have a bad feeling about this, I really do,” you held onto his hand, and forced him to look at you, to see the fear and worry in your eyes. He did, and stopped in his tracks, cupping your face with both his hands.
“I promise you; I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured.
“You don’t get it – I have a terrible feeling about this mission. Please stay home,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you found it hard to speak, anxiety clogging in your throat and making it burn. “Just for tonight. You can’t go tonight.”
“Honey, they need me. They need my help – what if someone is in danger?”
“Surely they can get someone other than you!” you exclaimed, tears now rolling down your cheeks. It broke his heart to see you like this, crying before him. Nanami brushed your tears away and shook his head.
“They can’t. Gojo knows how much I hate overtime. I can tell he’s being serious right now.”
“They have other sorcerers! Gojo can send in other sorcerers! It can’t always be you! Shit – Please! Kento, don’t go tonight. I’m begging you, stay home.”
Nanami looked at you, furrowing his brows ever so slightly. He knew you. Better than he knew himself, he was sure. He knew you cared about him deeply, he knew you worried like crazy. But you’d never stopped him from going on missions. Sure, you’d try to beg for just five more minutes in bed with him, wanting to cherish every second you got to hold him in your arms, and you checked up on him several times a day just to make sure he was doing fine.
But you never stopped him from doing what he had to do.
You understood how much Jujutsu Sorcery meant to him. You understood why he did what he did, and never once got in his way. You knew it was his calling, and you couldn’t stop him. After all, you loved him. And no matter how much you wanted to protect him; you would always let him do what he felt like he had to.
Today was different.
“And you want me to stay home because you… you have a feeling?” he repeated your words back, shaking his head ever so slightly. “[Y/N], you know I can’t. A feeling is not enough. They need my help.”
“They can get someone else’s!” You were crying now. Actually crying and holding onto his hands as if they were your lifeline. To you, they were. “I, I can’t explain it Kento. I just know something terrible is about to happen. And you’re injured, you haven’t healed completely yet, I… I can’t lose you Kento! I can’t – I’m not ready to say goodbye to you. I don’t think I ever will!”
You embraced him tightly, burying your face on his chest and clutching his blue shirt in your fists as you sobbed.
“I just know… I know… I can feel it… I know something awful is going to happen… Please don’t leave me – don’t leave tonight… I love you Kento, I – I can’t lose you…”
Nanami hugged you back as you sobbed, running a gentle hand through your hand in an attempt to comfort you. He pondered his choices.
Gojo sounded desperate. Something big had clearly happened and he was needed. No other sorcerer could rival his technique alone – there was a good reason, after all, he was a Grade 1 Sorcerer. He could go out and help. They probably needed his help more than anything else. And his guidance.
But you… You just looked so frightened, so anxious. Scared that some force more powerful than him would take his soul, his life. He titled your head up with his other hand and took you all in. Your eyes were red from all the crying, your nose was runny, and your lips were puffy and open as you mumbled a string of pleas, all with the same intent. Don’t leave tonight.
He’d never seen you like this.
And he was positive he never wanted to do so ever again.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Your eyes were wide as saucers and your breath quickened.
“Really?”
Nanami hummed in response and kissed you sweetly. You, however, kissed him with all you were feeling. The anxiety and fear of losing him, the desperation to keep him by your side, the undying love you had for him. You poured all these emotions into your kiss, hoping they’d speak louder than the words you couldn’t come up with. You then looked at him and teared up again, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Bread, fireplace, and fresh new books. He smelled like home.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled, still running his hand through your hair. “I’ve got you.”
You stood like that for a while, in his arms while he whispered soothing words in your ear.
After a while, he picked you up and took you to the living room, sitting on the couch and placing you on his lap. You snuggled into him, refusing to let him go. Your hands were all over him, and you tried to get closer to him, as if that were even possible. You were so tangled up; it was hard to tell where he ended, and you began.
Nanami silently took the TV remote and picked a movie you had mentioned wanting to watch for Halloween night. He held you close, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, his hand firmly on your thigh to remind you that he was here.
Gojo needed his help. That was true. And however dramatic he may be, he could be serious when he wanted, and forego his cocky, careless demeanour.
But you needed him. And Nanami had spent far too many nights out in missions, coming home battered black and blue, covered in blood and big purple bruises, worrying you to death. He’d seen how you looked at him earlier – like you truly believed he would be taken away from you. And it broke his heart.
Gojo could manage on his own. He’d done it before. Nanami had sacrificed far too many hours for Jujutsu Sorcery. Surely, he’d done enough to warrant a night off, to spend with the love of his life. Right?
“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, trying not to cry again.
“I love you. And I don’t want to worry you.” Was his ushered reply as he placed soft kisses on the side of your head. He felt you smile into his skin, and the gesture was enough to make him melt in your embrace.
Yeah.
He’d surely done enough to earn a night with you.
Gojo could manage.
For now, all he wanted was to curl up with his wife on the couch, and comfort her until she no longer cried, watch a movie or two, chuckle when she got scared and hid in his chest.
Yeah.
He’d earned it.
Because nothing could ever matter more than you.
A/N: And that's it!!! I hope I managed to give all Nanami fans some solance - in my head, this is how it went down. Nanami stayed home with us, and later he retired and we moved to Malaysia. All is well.
I hope you all enjoyed it! I certainly did - I love writing for Nanami. He's such an interesting character!
Have a wonderful day (and weekend) ahead, everyone! <3
#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami x you#nanami drabbles#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami headcanons#nanami kento fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fanfiction#nanami kento#kento nanami
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ON MY TABLE | s.kerr
summary: you're the new physio for chelsea and a certain striker seems to be needing more sessions that usual [1.9k words]
pairing: physio!reader x sam kerr
notes: physio!reader I love you so much xxxx
“MILLIE, YOU ACTUALLY HAVE to do your exercises for your knee to feel better, you know that right?”
“oh, you’re so funny. you know that?”
millie gave you a little shove before opening the door to your office, swinging the door.
“i’ll report you to HR if you don’t watch it, bright” you used your pen to point over at millie before jotting down some minor notes about your session.
“oh, ha ha” she chuckled, “see you, y/n.”
you chuckled, signing off today’s papers and getting ready to file them. you had no more players booked in for the day and were ready to file your reports and head home. it was getting hot in london, the air conditioning in your office was the only thing keeping you sane.
“hey doc,”
well.. not the only thing.
“sammy k,” you smiled looking up at her. she was leaning against the doorframe in her training shorts, her drink bottle in your hand. “to what do i owe the pleasure-“ you stood up from your desk, grabbing her file which was on top of your pile- “for the.. fifth time this week?” you asked her. “it’s only wednesday, sam”.
she looked down at the carpet with a shy laugh before walking into your office and taking a seat up on your massage table. “it’s just my calf,” she winced a little bit reaching for it, “it’s still really tender, i was just wondering if you could have a quick look at it again before you head off.”
you would’ve bought it if she hadn’t said the same thing twice already that week. sam was becoming a part of the furniture in your office, always dropping in before or after practice. on game days, she had you give her a rub down on her thighs and calves before kick-off. she swore that you were her lucky charm, having kicked a goal in every game that you worked on her for.
“okay, sam” you took a deep breath, crouching down so you could feel her muscle, “let’s have a look”.
she couldn’t help herself but watch you as you worked. ever since you had joined the team at chelsea last month, sam was enamoured by you. the way you carried yourself was so attractive to her in a way that she can’t describe. a few of the girls had caught wind of her frequent physio trips, a few worried for her, a few teasing her instead. her small crush didn’t go unnoticed by her close friends. guro constantly blowing up their groupchat with small digs at sam.
“it’s not feeling too tight which is a good thing,” sam watched the way that your eyebrows furrowed together as you felt her calf, “is it better or worse than the last time i saw you?”
“about the same,” she shrugged, lying to you. “i just wanted to see if it was anything to worry about,” another lie. her calf was fine, it hadn’t played up for the last few weeks, she was actually on a really good run with it. she was chalking it up to you working with her.
“it’s not too concerning,” you looked up at her for a few seconds before standing back up, “we’ll keep an eye on it though if it keeps giving you grief.”
“okay,” she nodded, “thanks, y/n”
“you’re very welcome,” you smiled, “is there anything else i can help you with while i’m here?”
“uh,” she rolled her lips, blowing out a deep breath, “maybe we could book in a session tomorrow? or in the next few days before the game?” she tilted her head. you never expected sam to be a shy person, you saw her with her teammates, always loud and boisterous. but in here, she always seemed nervous to speak or to say the wrong things. “just wanna cover everything before the game,” she gave you a tight lipped smile.
chelsea was playing arsenal on saturday, you knew the entire team was nervous for this game. maybe this was why sam had been in your office so often.
“course,” you nodded. “let me put it in my calendar,” you sat back down at your desk and grabbed your calander, pencilling in ‘sammy k’ just after jessie. “i’m free after prac, just have a session with jessie beforehand,” you looked back up at her.
“yeah, yeah. whenever works for you works for me,” she smiled, you noticed her few front crooked teeth as they peaked out of her smile. you rested your head in your hands, realising only now how tired you were.
“so i’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled at sam as best you could.
“yeah.. yeah, tomorrow”
you saw sam four more times that week, once on thursday for your session and three times on friday. to her credit, you only ran into her in the parking lot on friday morning. so she thought she was showing some level of restraint, publicly at least- she wouldn’t tell anyone that she was waiting for you to pull into the car park so she could chat with you for a few minutes.
the striker had started to win you over. she was getting more comfortable in your sessions and you were finally starting to see the side of sam you saw when she was with others. it was a nice thing to see, you admired it. you started looking forwards to her dropping by or messaging you calf updates, selfies of her doing her exercises at home- claiming she’s your best client… which she was quickly approaching the title of.
it was halftime during the arsenal game, 0-0 so far. you headed towards the changerooms, bringing some more pre-wrap done for the girls who wanted it, and so you could check on lauren’s shoulder. you burst through the doors, not watching where you were going or what you were walking in on.
when you looked up you saw sam changing her sports bra, fabric over her head, her boobs on full display.
“oh my god!” you quickly turned away, shielding your eyes to give her some privacy, “i am so so sorry,” you apologised. sam quickly pulled her bra down, apologising as she pulled you into a hug.
millie laughed from her locker, “she changes her bra every halftime, y/n. this is nothing new, you’ve finally lost your v-card of seeing sams tits.” other girls in the changeroom laughed along as you were still stood shocked.
“sorry, y/n” sam shot you apologetic glance. your heart began to beat faster, her holding you close to her chest not helping your palpatations. you took a step back and left sam’s embrace.
“your changeroom, not mine” you nervously chuckled, “you don’t need to apologise to me”. you quickly handed off the prewrap you brought to sam, before turning around to leave.
“uh, y/n-“ lauren called for you.
“yep!” you turned back around, “sorry.” ignoring your awkward moment with sam and heading over to check lauren.
you avoided eye-contact with sam for the rest of the time in the change room, leaving as quickly as you came. the girls lost unfortunately, a goal from caitlin foord in the final minutes putting the game to rest.
as the chelsea girls finished up their post-game chat in the changerooms, you picked up your stuff that had been scattered around by the players- ready to bring it back to your office for recovery tomorrow. the players headed to the showers, one by one, sam being the last one left. it was just you and her.
she could tell that you weren’t going to speak to her, too embarrassed of what happened earlier. it didn’t faze sam, she changed her sports bra every halftime, right after brushing her hair out. half of the chelsea staff had seen her topless, but it was different now that it was you- she knew this wasn’t something you could brush off instantly.
she was going to have to make you talk to her. sam took a deep breath before pushing herself up off her bench.
“agh!” she winced, clutching at her calf. your head shot her way and you were soon crouched down in front of her. “shit,” sam hissed.
“you okay? you pull it?” you grabbed her calf and took the pressure off of her, holding it close to you.
“fuck,” sam sighed, a pained expression on her face, “i don’t know, i just tried to get up and it twinged.”
you suddenly felt bad for thinking sam had been putting in on all week. the possibility of her putting it on just to see you sounded too good to be true, and by the looks of things- it was. you helped sam onto her feet and walked her into your office, her arm around your neck to support herself.
you grabbed out some off your oil and told sam to lay on her tummy. you couldn’t feel any major pull in the muscle as you rubbed it down. you tried to stay somewhat gentle for sam, but she didn’t seem to be reacting to your touch anymore. almost as if she had miraculously recovered.
“i can’t feel anything too strained,” you walked to the front of your table, so you meet her gaze. “how is it feeling?” you asked.
sam pushed herself up and sat properly to look at you, “doesn’t hurt anymore, you must’ve fixed me” she chuckled. you paused for a second before sighing at sam.
“you’re a world class actor, you know that right?”
she broken out into a laugh, “i should’ve got an oscar for that”.
“you had me,” you shook your head with a deep breath, leaning against your desk. “you’re something else, sam.”
“in a good way?” she asked hesitantly.
“some days,” you nodded.
sam wavered before speaking, “i’m sorry ive been taking up so much of your time, y/n.”
you looked up to her from your crossed arms and met her brown eyes. “so, your calf isn’t sore?” you asked her, eyebrows raised.
she slowly shook her head, “guilty”.
sam was surprised when you sighed out in relief. “okay good, because i have been trying to think of ways to tell emma that her star striker couldn’t go a day without visiting my office,” you chuckled, “not a conversation i want to have with her.”
“you’re not mad?” sam asked.
“no, sam” you shook your head. “i don’t mind having you in here,” you admitted, “i quite enjoy your company actually.” sam couldn’t help but take notice of the flirty smirk that had made its way onto your lips.
she hopped down from your table and took a step closer to you. “oh yeah?” she raised her eyebrows, a cocky grin making its presence known.
“yeah,” you shrugged, “you’re alright.. i mean you’re no erin cuthburt, but..” you smirked.
“oh wow,” sam nodded at you. the space between you both was beginning to close, weeks of unspoken tension finally coming to boil over. “that was a low blow, even for you” she said.
“even for me?” you asked.
“even for you,” she nodded.
“hmm, you’re gonna be demoted from favourite client sam”
“oh, so i am your favourite?”
“you could be,” you smirked.
“and how could i make that happen?”
“wouldn’t you like to know,” you leant in, your lips almost ghosting over hers.
“i would love to know,” sam chuckled, finally closing the gap between your lips and hers. as you melted into the kiss, one of her hands found your jaw and the other your hip. she held onto your with all she had, too scared to let the moment slip away from her.
when you finally pulled away from each other, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding onto. “don’t worry..” you chuckled, “you’re not at risk of losing your status”.
“good..” she nodded, both of sam’s hands now holding onto your face, “because i don’t enjoy losing.”
#one shots . * • .#sam kerr x reader#sam kerr imagine#sam kerr one shot#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso x reader
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hi hi!! Thank you so much for doing this event!! TwT can I get sweet lollipops (abo friends with benefits to eventually lovers!!) with candy hearts (accidental knotting/pregnancy?) for our lovely alpha Floyd?
I hope I got that right! 💜
floyd leech x (gender neutral) reader
cw: nsfw, abo/omegaverse, knotting, friends with benefits, omega!reader, alpha!floyd, heats
note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order!
[lunar love hotel]
i. “this is just a one-time thing, okay?”
Celebrations at the Mostro Lounge are always extravagant events, luring in crowds so large the premises might resemble that of an overpacked sardine tin if it weren’t for Azul’s careful foresight. To avoid any unsavory issues, tonight’s celebration—a birthday party for a staff member—is strictly limited to Octavinelle residents and those working tonight’s shift, save for the exception that the birthday celebrant was permitted to invite friends from other dorms.
The lounge reflects this upbeat occasion, decorated in banners and streamers, confetti, and seashell-shaped light strands—all in pastel purples, blues, yellows, and pinks, colors resembling the shiny, waterlogged treasures found deep within the Coral Sea. There’s a buffet table that’s situated in the center of the room with snacks and desserts of all kinds, piled humorously high on silver platters that have not yet fallen over due to some special enchantment. Partygoers are scattered all throughout the lounge, some filling plates for themselves and others chatting around booths and in front of the massive aquarium, its aquatic illumination casting everything in cerulean hues.
You stand behind the bar drying and arranging crystal champagne flutes, a task so monotonous you’re lucky to listen in on nearby conversations to keep your brain perfectly sane. There are plenty of cloying smells that fill the lounge like helium inside a balloon, far more distracting than the scents of pastries and fruity, fizzy beverages. Your nose wrinkles at the distinctness of every alpha, omega, and beta in this room, some so robust you can practically taste them as they fog your brain with an unshakable haze.
Standing beside you, Azul works to mix and pour drinks, keeping up with each order in timely, flawless fashion. The clinking of glass and metal shakers brings you back to the present.
“You seem to be wearing quite the pensive look. A Madol for your thoughts?” Azul remarks without looking from the floor laid out before the both of you, his eyes scanning each and every partygoer, tallying them within his mind like they’re prey he’s preparing to net in one fell swoop.
You swallow a thick, awkward laugh, shaking your head to rid yourself of the cotton that’s been stuffed into your ears. Even the music spilling out of the speakers in loud, wild notes—courtesy of the birthday playlist assembled by the birthday boy and his friends—is muffled beyond comprehension, coming to you in a distant echo. You rub your shoe against the hardwood floor; it’s got a heartbeat, but that could just be because of the pounding music.
“(Name)?”
“Right. Thoughts. Madol. Yes,” you say with great haste, smacking your lips in a way that makes you look as if you’ve just tasted the air. And you are, technically, with every inhale and exhale. Amongst the many pheromones tinging the room, the ones that radiate from the alphas smell the most enticing. You blink through a sudden, all-consuming dizzy spell, head spinning. “I’m not thinking...about anything.”
Azul peers at you from his peripheral. “If you feel unwell, you’re welcome to take your break. I can handle things from here.”
“I’ll be fine...” You wipe sweat from your brow and tug at your collar. “Are you hot? It feels really hot in here.”
His brows knit together for a mere moment before a knowing glint flashes in his perceptive blues. It dawns on you, when he takes the glass from your trembling hands and sets it on the counter, that you are not as fine as you were a few moments ago. And both of you seem to have arrived at the same reason for why that might be.
“From one omega to another,” he murmurs, yet his voice sounds much clearer in this moment, “I suggest you take the rest of the night off before it catches up to you.”
You debate the suggestion, which is actually more of an order veiled within soft syllables, and you’re ready to insist you can power through it when your knees almost give out altogether when a particularly strong smell hits you. You slam your hands down upon the counter to keep your balance.
“This better not come out of my pay,” you mutter through grit teeth.
Azul barks out a laugh. “Why, I would never! We’re of the same sub-gender, after all. Naturally, we have to look out for one another.”
You try to roll your eyes, but it only makes you dizzier. You’ve done your best to ignore it so far, but now it’s impossible to not feel the slick that’s dampening your undergarments and rolling down your thighs in thick rivulets.
“Shall I send a beta to accompany you on your way back?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Azul looks like he wants to argue you on that, but instead he turns away to resume his current task. “Then I wish you a pleasant evening. Be safe.”
Pleasant, you think with bitter resentment. As if any of this is ever pleasant.
Luckily, the booming music and the absurd amount of scents within the lounge all but drowns yours out, allowing you to slip through the exit to follow the path that leads to Octavinelle's shadowed halls. The sprawling ocean looks much darker through the glass, as if it’s simply a liquid outer space or an endless abyss. Either one sounds equally terrifying. You stop your stagger-walk to lean against the cool surface, hoping to regain your sense of awareness. Shutting your eyes only makes you even more tipsy, so you press your forehead to the glass and exhale slowly.
It takes a moment for the world to stop tilting, but once it does you peel yourself away from the glass and continue to stumble onwards. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have decided to test fate when your calendar detailed your approaching heat, but that’s the least of your worries now. Not much can be done when it’s already upon you. Although you really wish it would have chosen to inconvenience you tomorrow when you weren’t set to work at the lounge.
The music is but a mere hum now, so distant it almost isn’t there, but you immediately forget about it when your shoe catches on something at the end of the hall, which sends you tumbling forwards. You land on frigid, unforgiving tiles with a harsh smack, and though the pain trickles through you it isn’t enough to distract you from the soothing scent of fresh rainfall. You blink through tears, forcing yourself to sit up, and find yourself staring into the face of Floyd Leech.
And he’s staring right back.
“F-Floyd? Didn’t you...” You inhale a deep breath, a poor move on your part because his smell encapsulates you entirely, and it almost knocks you over. “Kitchen shift... Azul put you on...food duty or...something.”
“Didn’t feel like it,” he mutters, looking bored and irritated all at once, as if your sudden arrival has disturbed his brooding in the dark. “Whatcha doin’ here? Thought you had a shift.”
You open your mouth to respond, but even that is too much for you; and so you slap your hands over your mouth, fixing him with a weak glare. Floyd’s never known just how strong his scent is, but you’ve always been able to differentiate it from the other staff members’ scents at the lounge because of how unmistakably Floyd it is. Unlike Jade, who dutifully wears scent blockers, Floyd could care less about the precautions most take to avoid any scent-related problems from cropping up. Sometimes you wish he was more like Jade, but then Jade never has any notable scent about him and that unnerves you more than the overwhelming nature of Floyd’s.
Floyd flashes his sharp teeth at you in a mocking grin. “Shrimpy looks so funny. Smells funny, too.”
You intend to put more vitriol into your glare, but his playful chuckle has you suppressing a needy, little whine. Your knuckles grow sore from how forcefully you’re clamping your hands over your mouth. If you don’t get back to Ramshackle soon, you’ll be a mess of sweat, pheromones, and slick and then that might draw unwanted attention. You attempt to stand, only to fail miserably when you sway on unsteady feet, and so you lower yourself onto your knees, glancing at Floyd’s colorful sneakers.
A breath shudders through you. The smell of rain and morning dew hangs heavy like cigarette smoke in the air. You can’t believe you’re about to verbalize your innermost desires, if they weren’t already blindingly apparent, but you can’t hold back any longer.
“Can you—” you swallow your inhibitions, far past the point of shame— “Can you help me?”
Floyd follows the length of his outstretched legs to look at you hunched over in front of him, your hands placed firmly on the floor to keep yourself from falling over.
His mismatched eyes hold mischief, but his face is neutral when he replies with: “Mmh... I guess. What do ya want help with?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you snap, and he tilts his head at you like you’re a bewildering curiosity. His acquiescence is all you really needed to hear, though, because you’re already shedding your uniform suit jacket in a breathless hurry. “Please don’t get smart right now. I just need—” You’re not sure what you need specifically, but you do know you need relief. And he’s the only alpha within reach. “I just need you to help.”
“Okaaay,” he drawls lazily, waiting there with his back against the glass. His figure is framed in the bright luminescence from the jellyfish swarming in the great depths beyond, and you crawl over his long legs and into his lap. He peers at you, amusement twinkling in his gaze. “Shrimpy’s so funny tonight!”
You admire him through the lenses unique to a heat. It’s more akin to a drunken stupor—the kind of phenomenon that makes strangers look ten times more appealing than they normally do if you’re sober—and every rugged, dangerous edge that composes Floyd suddenly seems so perfect and safe. Your fingers curl into the lapels of his jacket, and you yank him towards you, your lips mere centimeters from his. There’s no indication that he feels the same spark as you, but in this moment there doesn’t need to be any life-changing sparks. As long as he’s agreed to help you, you’ll take his assistance and nothing more.
“Floyd.”
“Shrimpy.”
“Can you...” You wiggle your hips, impatiently fumbling to shrug out of the straps of your high-waisted suspender trousers. You’re not very successful in this endeavor, so you give up with a frustrated huff. “Please touch me. D-Down there...”
“Sure thing,” he says with a nonchalance that’s frighteningly alarming.
You were certain that an omega in heat made it difficult for most alphas to focus, let alone properly function, when there were so many tempting smells and sounds coming from them. But then Floyd isn’t like most alphas. Floyd is uniquely Floyd in every possible way. He doesn’t conform to the typical standards applied to other alphas. But it does sting a little to think that, with how undoubtedly cloying your pheromones must be, he isn’t affected in the slightest. He’s not even hard, which feels like a chip in your omega pride, but you’re too frantic with lust to dwell on it.
Floyd's rough hands grab your waist and he lifts you up slightly, pressing you flush against his chest so that he can yank your trousers down for easier access. The fabric bunches halfway at your knees, but that hardly matters in the moment. You’re certain the wet spot would have been noticeable if it weren’t for the dim lighting in the hall, and you’re secretly grateful for the lack of brightness.
“T-This is just a one-time thing, okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
You’re not sure why he sounds so disinterested, but you don’t care enough to ask. And when he slides your soaked underwear to the side so that he can thrust two slender fingers up inside your dripping hole, you slump against him, gripping his shoulders like he’s the only one who can keep you afloat amidst the turbulent sea you’ve found yourself in. With your face buried in the crook of his neck, where his scent glands are so close and produce the headiest scent you’ve ever come to know, you cum with a strangled, gasping cry, slick clinging to your thighs in translucent, stringy ribbons. Floyd doesn’t say anything, continuing to curl his fingers inside tight, wet, gummy walls, which leaves you shuddering and sobbing with ecstasy.
You lick at his neck, pressing lingering kisses to every available inch, breathing in his scent as if it’s your oxygen. Your teeth prick the surface of his skin, but before you can bite down he’s grabbing your chin with his free hand and smashing his mouth against yours in a sloppy, aggressive kiss. Your teeth click against his, and his tongue flicks past your lips, searching for yours. You meet him halfway, kissing back as fervently as you roll your hips against his hand, taking a third and a fourth finger in one thrust. He’s worked you open with delightful movements, scissoring you as roughly as he kisses, and when you break away to gulp down mouthfuls of air Floyd licks his lips clean of saliva—your saliva.
You’re not sure if it was possible for you to get wetter, but you do and you reach your second—or perhaps it’s your third—climax with a squeal.
“You can put it in. Please put it in,” you mumble, mind fuzzy with one single thought: If you aren’t fucked sore and senseless right now, you might never recover from this heat. “Please, Flo... Floyd, put it in...” You palm at his crotch, satisfied that there’s now a stiffness straining against his trousers, and you reach up to slide his suit jacket off his broad shoulders. “I need it. I’ll cover your shifts for a week—no, two weeks—three weeks! Anything you want—just need you inside me...”
Floyd hums his consideration. “Don’t wanna,” he eventually says, cutting off your whiny protests with another expert curl of his fingers. “S’too much work.”
That seems to sober you a little, and though your entire body is flushed with warmth there’s an odd coldness that seeps through. You lose track of how many times you cum, but at some point you must have slipped into unconsciousness from the exhaustion of it all. When you wake, the sun’s just barely peeking over the horizon, and you’re lying in your work clothes in your room at Ramshackle Dorm. You feel and smell so filthy, covered in slick and sweat that has dried sticky on your skin, but the worst of your heat has abated for now. You know this isn’t the last of it—that there’s more to come in the next few days and that you’ll just feel so foggy-headed until the true instinctual lust hits and you’re leaking through your undergarments like a broken faucet.
Groggily, you sit up, rubbing the crust from your eyes, only to flop back down.
Bath can wait, you think, yawning. It’s way too early for that.
You feel something bunched underneath you, and for a moment you think it’s Floyd. Though you’re not sure why he immediately pops into your mind, you’re given your answer when you pull the suit jacket out from beneath you. It smells pleasantly of a rainy morning, musky and earthy, a pleasant petrichor that could only belong to Floyd.
ii. “you smell like shrimpy. ain’t that good enough?”
Floyd is an elusive force. He appears and disappears whenever he feels like it—almost like a playful poltergeist haunting a house. If he wants you to find him, you’ll find him. Today, it’s not Floyd you find when you venture through the courtyard in search of him, but rather Jade. You suppose he’s better than no one, and if you look at him from the wrong angle he becomes Floyd. So this is the best you can do in this moment. Perhaps it’s convenient you don’t have to face Floyd because you haven’t even rehearsed what you’ll say to him—if you even want to say anything to him about that night.
“I’d like to return Floyd’s jacket,” you tell him in your best professional tone, offering it to him alongside a packaged pastry.
Jade gazes at your outstretched hands. “The pastry as well?”
“Please don’t be a smart-ass.”
He hides his sharp smile behind a gloved fist. “Is there a reason you’re in possession of Floyd’s jacket?” As if to be even more irritating than he already is, he adds, “And Floyd’s pastry?”
You avoid his stare, distracting yourself with the sight of your scuffed shoes. “N-No reason in particular...”
But Jade is not the type to drop a subject he’s found interest in, which leaves him thoroughly invested in this not-so-mysterious mystery. “No reason at all?” he presses, brows raising. “If I recall, Floyd’s been left without a jacket for a week. This is merely speculation—take it with a grain of salt—but you must have been indisposed for a few days to deal with...‘personal matters,’ as Azul had called it, hence why we didn’t see you at the lounge. Is it correct to assume you may have been burdened with a certain biological inconvenience?”
“Not true! He lent it to me. Yeah, lent it to me. That’s all there is to it.”
“And the pastry?”
“Oh my—Jade, please just take your brother’s jacket. You’re killing me here.”
“On the contrary, I haven’t yet twisted the knife deep enough.”
You groan, deflating before him like a boneless fish. “You already know why I have his jacket. Don’t make this difficult.”
He chuckles; you don’t see what’s so hilarious about this situation. “Well, I was made aware of specific details, yes. What was it you had told Floyd? Ah, right. You would cover his shifts for three weeks if he—”
“Ahaa, Shrimpy, there you are!” Before you can listen to the rest of what was going to be a highly flustering sentence, Floyd crashes into you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, while you nearly topple over from the impact. Thankfully, he steadies you with strong arms. “I was lookin’ all over for you!”
“What a coincidence. So was I.” You squirm in his grasp, holding his jacket and the pastry up for his viewing pleasure. “For you.”
“So that’s where it was! Thanks, Shrimpy! Didja take good care of it for me?”
You stare at him. Did he seriously forget where his own jacket was?
“I don’t know what flavors you like, but I got this custard bread for you.”
“Huh? What for? It’s not my birthday.” The arm curled around your waist tightens its crushing grip, persuading you to admit your reasoning before he squeezes and your guts spill out through cracked bone. “It’s not even a holiday. What gives?”
“It’s for your help that night. A thank you from me to you.”
He snatches both from you, draping his jacket over his shoulder, and inspects the packaging. “Hey, this looks yummy. Thanks, Shrimpy!” He digs something out of his pocket, takes your hand, spreads your fingers, and drops it in your palm. “I also got a little somethin’ for ya.”
It’s a golden canine tooth, most likely one that came from a beastman. There’s still some blood and gum sticking to it.
“Um. Thanks?” You choke down the urge to shiver.
Floyd giggles, looking quite satisfied with himself.
Jade stares at it, unsurprised. “May I ask where you acquired this tooth?”
Floyd shrugs, releasing you from his smothering hug. “Asked some guy where Shrimpy was and he kept dodgin’ the question. Had to pull the answer right from his mouth.”
“I see.”
You stuff the tooth into your pocket, wiping your palm against the fabric of your blazer, and grin awkwardly. “I appreciate the...gift.”
You’ve never traded a pastry for a tooth before. But, hey, there are firsts for everything, right?
“You like it?! I can get more for Shrimpy! Which ones do you like best? Gold? Silver?”
“No, that’s okay. One is enough.”
One is too much, actually...
Floyd hums his contentment, the scent of rain rolling off of him in happy waves. You inhale as subtly as you can. He smells good—perhaps much better now that you’ve toed the line of intimacy with him—however emotionless it may have been—and have had an entire week to familiarize yourself with his scent. It settles your frazzled nerves, allowing you a small fraction of confidence...that immediately shrivels when you recall how he’d called your scent funny.
“Do I...” You shrug your anxieties off, forcing the question out from the confines of your dry throat. “Do I smell bad?”
Floyd looks through you rather than at you. “Never said that.”
“You didn’t say I smelled good either.” You cross your arms over your chest. “For the record, I think you smell good.”
That prompts a tiny laugh from Jade. “As riveting as your human courting techniques are, I’m afraid I must be on my way. I wish you a pleasant afternoon, (Name). Floyd, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“‘Kaaay.”
You’ve never been more glad to see him and his troublesome smirk go, and you curse him six ways from Sunday with each step he takes, until it’s just you and Floyd standing in the center of the sparsely populated courtyard.
Floyd unwraps the pastry without much decorum, taking an obnoxious chomp from it while he waits for you. Crumbs stick to his face and gather on his uniform like sugar snowfall.
“So I do smell bad.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shrimpy,” he says around a mouthful of pastry. “You smell like Shrimpy. Ain’t that good enough?”
What in the world does ‘shrimpy’ even smell like?
You tilt your head back and forth, unsure of what to truly say. “I... Floyd, your scent really helped me. Like, a lot. And I know you probably don’t think it did, but your jacket made things way more tolerable than they usually are.”
He’s licking his fingers clean now, nodding along to what you’re saying with bright, eager eyes.
You steel yourself with it’s now or never. “My budget has been low lately, so I haven’t been able to afford suppressants for the next few months. And between attending classes, working at the lounge, and keeping Ramshackle in good shape, I can’t lose a week’s time because of my heats. So... So what I’m trying to say—what I’m trying to get at here... I guess what I really want—can we make this not a one-time thing, but a monthly thing instead? If you helped me, you could cut my heats down to just two or three days. I can buy you more pastries if you want, or I can cover your shifts. Please just help me out again. I’ll do anything.”
It feels useless and pathetic to beg, especially since you know how mercurial he can be, so sometimes it’s as though you’re speaking to an immovable wall. In fact, you might have better luck going to Azul or Jade if you really wanted—
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.” He grins. “Why not? Sounds fun.”
“So it doesn’t sound like ‘too much work’?”
“Nah. Shrimpy’s fun.” He crumples the empty packaging and stuffs it in his pocket. “And fun things aren’t work.”
“All right... If you say so.”
You aren’t going to push it any further, lest you risk annoying him and losing this chance.
iii. “most importantly, we’re just friends and nothing more.”
It’s raining today. Normally, watching gloomy weather unfold fosters unrest within you. But this time Floyd’s with you, lying sprawled in a cramped alcove in the library, all lanky limbs outstretched, while you flip through a textbook in search of anything that might give you more insight into how to cure heats or, at the very least, halt them in a way that doesn’t require expensive medicines. Floyd’s scrolling on his phone, a lollipop between his lips. He’d caught your scent on the wind and had gravitated towards it, and you’d smelled him the minute he stepped into the hallway to follow you into the library. You let him accompany you because there’s no shaking Floyd once he’s made up his mind.
With the lack of sunlight, the lighting in the library is dimmer than usual. It’s peacefully comfortable despite the rain-spattered windowpanes and the cloudy sky beyond ancient, dusty confines. You peer at Floyd from where you sit. He’s looking through an online shoe catalogue.
“Do you like shoes?”
“They’re cool,” he replies without missing a beat. “And the surface’s got lotsa cool designs and styles.”
Briefly, you glance at your worn pair in hopes that looking long enough will give you an idea for what to say next. It doesn’t work as intended, but Floyd doesn’t seem keen to continue chatting with you, his attention focused squarely on his phone screen. You return to the task at hand, skimming a few chapters on alpha and omega biology, information on betas, and even an in-depth analysis on heat and rut nuances. Nothing tells you of the panacea needed to rid yourself of your heats.
Defeated, you shut the textbook with a sigh. Floyd’s looking at you now, his phone swiftly pocketed. You slump in your seat. He smiles lopsidedly when he knows you’re watching him.
“All good?”
You nod, but your words contradict that. “I can’t find a cure for heats and it’s a little frustrating.”
“Why do you wanna cure ‘em? You got me for that, don’tcha?”
“Yeah. But… Actually, since you’re here, can we go over a few rules? My next heat isn’t scheduled until next month, but I’d like to set some boundaries before we do anything.”
Floyd pulls the lollipop stick from his mouth and twists it into a knot. “Lay ‘em on me.”
You nod, push the textbook away from you, and scoot your chair closer to the alcove. “You can’t bite.” You point at your neck. “Anywhere else is fine, but here is off limits.”
Floyd mirrors your actions, tapping the area where his glands reside with a hum. “I won’t bite.” His smile says otherwise, but you take him for his word.
“And no knotting.”
“No knotting.”
“No breeding either.”
“No breeding.”
“And… And no kissing.”
“No kissing. Gotcha.”
“You’re being surprisingly agreeable about this.”
Floyd shrugs. “It’s what Shrimpy wants.”
“Right. Okay. Well.” You wring your hands together. “Most importantly, we’re just friends and nothing more.”
“Just friends,” he parrots. “Nothing more.”
“Cool.” You nod to yourself, but it does nothing to dispel the awkwardness. “Awesome. Cool...”
Floyd pops up from the alcove seat like a reanimated corpse springing from a grave. He grabs your hand and tugs you up from your chair, all boisterous energy and laughter despite the vicious shushes you receive from nearby students.
“Let’s go swimming!”
You have no idea where this came from, but you allow yourself to be tugged from the library, abandoning the pile of textbooks you’d been perusing for nearly an hour. And though your spirits had been dampened considerably by the information, or rather lack thereof, you seem to forget about it while you watch Floyd splash freely around in the Octavinelle pool, swimming laps with such smooth precision. You dip your bare feet in the chilled water, entertaining him with a game of fetch, tossing a diving ring each time he brings it back to you.
And within no time your frown has lifted into a genuine smile.
Later, during your shift, Jade brushes past you. “Floyd has been in such a pleasant mood today,” he remarks, nodding towards his brother, who’s currently balancing trays as he happily skips from table to table, a whistle in his voice. “I wonder if something exciting has happened. Do share. I so dislike being left out of the loop.”
Knowing Jade and his affinity for omniscience, you suspect he’s already within the loop. And it’s not as if you could lie to him; he’d find out eventually when Floyd starts smelling more like you and you start smelling more like Floyd. So it’s best to be honest about it, even if it is a little uncomfortable admitting such a thing to Jade.
“Floyd’s going to help me with my heats.”
“Is that so? How kind of him. You have my most sincerest blessings.” Jade holds a hand over his heart. “Take good care of Floyd now. He can be rather sensitive, though he doesn’t seem it.”
“We’re not getting married, Jade.”
He smiles innocently. Your gazes are drawn to Floyd as he approaches with empty trays. He catches your eye and grins broadly, waving in a manner so ecstatic you’d think he’s just meeting you again for the first time in years.
“I wouldn’t be so certain about a hypothetical that has yet to be proven.”
“Then, hypothetically, I marry into the Leech family. What then?”
“I believe that would make us in-laws, no?”
“Right. And, hypothetically, my dear in-law goes missing and is never found again because he can’t keep his annoying mouth shut. What then?”
“You would have quite the crime on your hands. I don’t think the sea would show you much mercy.”
Floyd’s hands clap down upon your shoulders at that moment. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”
Jade’s grin sharpens into something predatory when he looks at Floyd, who’s resting his chin on top of your head. “We were merely discussing how we might dispose of the other should (Name) marry into the family.”
“Ooh! Shrimpy’s marryin’ Jade, huh?”
You and Jade answer in unison, though your responses are very contrasting.
“That can be arranged.”
“Absolutely not!”
Floyd pinches your cheek, cooing playfully. “I wouldn’t mind it. That means I’d get to see Shrimpy all the time.”
“Although, as honored as I am to consider a future with (Name), I believe Floyd would be a much better fit for you.”
“Huh? Why me?” Floyd looks at you more closely, inspecting you with narrowed eyes, and then he barks out a high laugh. “No way, Jade. You hafta like someone if you wanna marry ‘em.”
You twist out of Floyd’s arms. “And we all have to work if we don’t want Azul on our cases!” With a huff, you snatch the trays from under Floyd’s arm and stomp off towards the kitchen, listening to the twins’ laughter as you go.
iv. “shrimpy’s rule: no knotting.”
In the days leading up to your heat, Floyd is a leech, not just in surname but in the literal sense. He’s almost always hanging around you. From working the same hours at the lounge to accompanying you to and from classes to meeting you at Ramshackle first thing in the morning, he is your shadow. It almost feels like he’s attached to you by some invisible thread and can only go so far before he’s drawn back in by way of magnetic force. You thought it was weird, but then Floyd has always been weird and so this sort of behavior isn’t uncharacteristic. Rather, it makes perfect sense for him to stick to you like a barnacle. Why, you might ask? The simple answer is that he’s found entertainment in you and isn’t going to give up until he grows bored.
But the complex answer comes to you days before your scheduled heat, when Ace had none-too-subtly pointed out that you smell. He didn’t say you smelled funny, which had been a little soothing, but even Deuce had echoed his sentiment. You didn’t smell like yourself, they had told you. So you asked what you smelled like and without missing a beat they replied: “Like rain.”
You had laughed and then paused to consider what felt like an absurdity and then laughed again. Floyd isn’t your alpha and you’re not his omega. There shouldn’t be any reason for him to scent you. You shrug off Ace’s teasing and Deuce’s genuine curiosity in favor of focusing on your lunch. Lunch, you’ve decided, is much tastier than whatever confusion you were previously feasting on.
Unlike last month’s heat, you’re ready for this one. You wake and attend classes as you normally would, only feeling the faintest itch of what’s to come, but by your final class you’re woozy, struggling to stay centered while the lecture goes in one ear and out the other in a string of mushed syllables. You’re not completely gone when you shuffle out of class, ignoring the whispers that are thrown around, and you only truly perk up when a familiar smell hits you head-on.
Floyd leans against the wall, a casual smile pulling his lips apart. “My dorm or yours?”
“Yours,” you blurt, only to shake your head hastily. “No... No, not yours. Mine is better.”
He giggles and tilts his head at you. “Okaaay!”
Floyd hardly has any time to shut the door and drop your belongings on the sofa before you’re grabbing at him, clinging like a koala, and he gathers you in his arms and covers the distance to your bedroom. You’re quickly losing yourself to instinctual lust, shedding your articles of clothing as easily as you whimper his name. Floyd’s grinning as he follows your example, his eyes tracking your every movement. You flop onto your bed after you’ve discarded your rumpled uniform, skin hot and sticky with sweat and slick. Floyd’s pheromones fill the room at once, and you reach for him when he crawls on top of you, caging you between sturdy, muscled arms.
“Shrimpy smells funny again.”
“Knock it off, will you?” you spit, but the irritation doesn’t last long when you get another whiff of him and you throw your head back with an impatient sigh. “I don’t smell funny... Ace and Deuce didn’t think I smelled funny.”
“Yeah?” he prompts, palming your drenched hole, sliding two fingers past rings of wet muscle.
You shift underneath him, hissing out a breathy moan through grit teeth. “They said...” Another gasp. “They said I smelled like—” Your hands grip the sheets when he adds a third finger, lazily working you open with dexterous digits. “Like ra—aah—rain.”
“Musta been rainin’ that day.”
“N-No, you were... Your smell. You smell like—mmh. Like the rain.”
You don’t miss his tongue as it darts out to wet his lips. The lewd squelching of his fingers pumping in and out of you permeates the air, replacing any words he might have wanted to say. You shut your eyes with a blissful hum. Perhaps if you weren’t already so deep in your heat you might be able to sift through your thoughts with more coherence. But then, if you weren’t so deep in your heat, you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, and so you probably wouldn’t get this far with your curiosity.
“Were you... Hah... Were you scenting me? I couldn’t tell because...”
Because your scent’s already so familiar.
Floyd doesn’t answer, but he does withdraw his hand and you whine low in your throat. Your displeasure is short-lived, though, for rough hands spread your thighs next, and before you know it he’s between your legs, licking a stripe up your slick-coated entrance. By instinct, you attempt to shut your legs, wanting to lock him there forever, but his hands keep you spread wide for him, and so you rest your ankles upon his shoulders while he continues to lick and nip, his razored teeth just barely scraping skin.
Suddenly, pressing him for answers doesn’t seem like your main priority when a long, thick tongue pushes its way into you at the next moment. He hums his enjoyment, and the vibrations ripple through you like waves in a pond. It’s much better than anything you could have accomplished with just your fingers alone, and you can’t stop the noisy mewls that fall freely from your lips, breathy and pitched in a way that foretells approaching orgasm. With the way his fingertips burrow into the pudge of your thighs to the way his tongue sloppily works in and out of you, the warmth in your stomach builds to an insurmountable level, and it isn’t long until you’re tipping over the edge. You dig your fingers into teal locks, pressing him firmly against your crotch, and cum with a strangled shout.
Floyd withdraws, his face glistening with your slick, and you shudder at both the sight of him and the faint ache of emptiness. He swipes a stray droplet from his cheek and samples it with a slow lick. You almost cum again, heat kindling within you once more.
“Ahaaa,” he exhales giddily, pupils blown so wide they eclipse his irises. “Shrimpy’s like a fountain today!”
You lessen your grip on his hair, chest heaving as you come down from your high, and tug him back onto the bed, hurrying to swap the positions before he can grab hold of you. You fumble with his still-hardening dick, coating your fingers with your slick and attempting to pump it with awkward, inexperienced strokes. Floyd supports himself on his elbows, eyeing you as you lean down to take the head of his cock in your mouth.
He hisses out a laugh. “Shrimpy’s not very good at this, huh?”
You want to snap at him, but all you can manage is a disgruntled scoff. You’ve entertained scenes like this in your dreams, in which you were skilled in all areas of sex, but now that you’re actually leaning over him, giving it your best effort to fit half of him in your mouth, you realize your dreams painted an ideal version of you that is not applicable to the real-world you. And that dents your pride a little. At least you can blame your sloppiness on your heat, which has you rushing through the motions in your impatience. Miraculously, your mouth manages to work some magic because his cock stiffens completely, curving up at an angle that you’re certain will hit the deepest spots within you.
You pull off of him with a wet pop and he giggles, reaching to pinch your cheek. Swatting at his hand, you crawl over him, straddling him, and brace your hands upon his chest. Floyd watches you, his arms folded behind his head, as he lies back and allows you to do the work. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, holding it steady while you align the soft, fleshy head with your hole. For a tense minute, you stare at the way the tip’s kissing your slit, oozing pre-cum. Had you been less omega-brained, you might have fretted over whether something so big would even fit, but right now all you need is to be completely filled to the brim.
Floyd unfolds his arms and rests his hands on your hips, seeming both amused and endeared to witness the emotions that shift on your face. Your eyes flick to his mismatched ones.
“Please...” You shiver, your hands closing around his larger ones. “Please, Floyd...”
You think that might have tempted him, for you’re hit with a stronger wave of his pheromones, but the thought is knocked out of your head when he lowers you onto his cock in a way that is uncharacteristically gentle. Your nails dig into his hands as slick, gummy walls swallow inch after thick inch. He’s concentrating on the way you stretch around him, groaning through clenched teeth, and he’s not even halfway in when you cum with a desperate wail. Floyd smirks up at you and, with his nails poking your hips, slams you down in one swift motion, spearing you entirely on his cock. You cry out your relief in delighted gasps.
“I-It’s inside...” you mumble, awestruck, as you press a hand to your stomach in an attempt to feel him. “It really—haah... Really fit...”
“‘Course it did,” he says pridefully. “I knew Shrimpy could do it.”
“Shrimpy only did it because of how wet—ah!” You nearly collapse when he thrusts up suddenly, the tip of his cock hitting a sensitive spot that sends pleasurable shockwaves rattling through you. You fix him with a weak scowl, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking at your hand intertwined with his while the other remains on your waist, keeping you steady. You loosen your grip for a moment before curling your fingers with a confidence only fostered by your heat. “C-Can I hold it?”
“S’not goin’ anywhere.”
You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs; and soon you’re starting to smile.
Swallowing your own heat-drunk giggles, you lift your hips slowly and ease back down onto him, shuddering at the way he fills you so completely. You do this a few more times while Floyd gleefully observes, and it isn’t long before you’re settling into a satisfying pace. He guides you up and down, watching you come undone with each steady roll of your hips. You’re a mess above him, fucking yourself silly while he meets you halfway with an occasional rough thrust, and you hold his hand so tightly you think you might tear it from his wrist. Floyd’s groans and grunts are music to your ears, spurring you onwards in your endeavors. You’re certain it’s just a byproduct of the heat, but he looks so enchanting beneath you, squeezing your hip and then reaching up to twist one of your perky nipples between his fingertips.
“Feels good?”
“So good,” you pant, breaths hot and wet. You’re overcome with the urge to pull him up and into your arms so that you can be even closer, but you’re too focused on feeling him deeper and so you never act on the temptation. “R-Really—mmph! Really good!”
He traces patterns into your stomach, giggling breathlessly. “I can tell. Shrimpy’s squeezin’ me soooo much.”
Neither of you seem to realize the base of his cock has swelled a considerable amount, but it’s brought to your attention the next time you slam your hips down and you’re stopped by his knot. You peer at it with lidded, glassy eyes and your omega instincts flare wildly, all messy bundles of nerves fraying at the idea that that could be inside you—that it should be inside you—locking you and Floyd together. You raise your hips, inches sliding out of you gradually, and you prepare yourself to take him—knot and all—when Floyd’s hand breaks from out of your hold to grab your waist, stopping your swift descent.
“Nuh-uh,” he chides, and you growl at him, almost animalistic with anger. “Shrimpy’s rule: No knotting.”
“This is—aah... Mmh... This is different. A t-trial run. This time...doesn’t count.”
“Hee hee. Shrimpy’s gonna regret it later.”
You squirm in his hold, begging him to keep moving through whimpers and whines, and he complies with a playful whistle.
“Please. Just once. Just once and then—”
“Mm, nope,” he says, popping the ‘P.’
“Floooyd...”
“Shrimpyyy.”
You sigh a sad, little sound that has Floyd’s eyes softening. His knuckle pets your cheek, oddly fond.
“S’just the heat talking,” he reminds you, and you lean into his warm, welcoming hand. “See? Shrimpy’s just followin’ instincts.”
He slides you off of him and your hole clenches uselessly around nothing. Within seconds, he’s flipped you so that you’re lying on your back and he’s above you. His teeth flash at you, sharp and bright, wild and untamed. You sandwich his face between your palms, adoring the way nasally laughter ripples through him. You’re glad he isn’t a mirror because if he was he might reflect an expression you don’t wish to confront at this very moment.
Floyd’s positioned himself and in one speedy thrust that nearly knocks the air from your lungs he slots himself inside, only this time you feel the overwhelming stretch of his knot as it fills you entirely, and you howl with ecstasy, linking your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your throat. Floyd moans lowly, resting his arm above your head and biting into the muscle so hard thin ribbons of blood streak from the punctures. Your chest is heaving, heart pounding out an erratic, heat-driven rhythm, and you cum around his thick knot with a strangled sob, tears running down your cheeks.
Within just a few more tight thrusts, Floyd’s emptied his creamy load inside, and you don’t have the sobriety to consider the weight of broken rules—rules that you had specifically put in place. You listen to his soft pants as he pulls away from his arm, saliva and blood stringing from his lips, and he licks it away with a swipe of his tongue. When he attempts to slide out, your face twists in discomfort.
“Hurts...”
“Aw. I’m sorry, Shrimpy,” he coos, adjusting your position so that he’s lying on his back and you’re resting on top of his chest, his knot still buried within you. His hand rests upon the small of your back, and he gives you a pleased, toothy grin. “Feel better now?”
“A little. Thank you,” you whisper, laying your head over his heart while the extremities of your heat ebb away, satisfied now that you’ve been properly filled and knotted by an alpha. His heart beats a steady thrum: buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum. The sweet scent of rain encases the both of you, easing you into a sleepy spell. You peer at the bite mark on his forearm and frown. “You bit yourself?”
“Didn’t wanna bite your neck.”
“Oh.” Your eyes flick to his, but he’s avoiding your stare, his cheeks tinged the faintest pink while he gazes at the ceiling. It’s a rare sight to see the Floyd Leech flustered and withdrawn; you wonder what’s the cause of this sudden shift in character. “You could’ve bitten anywhere else. I...wouldn’t have minded.”
“Didn’t wanna hurt you.”
“Oh.”
He’s looking at you now, the color on his cheeks fading, and a bashful smile plays at his lips. “Didn’t mean to break your rule.”
You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, petting him gently. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out once we’re unstuck.”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “Whatcha wanna talk about ‘til then?”
“Um... Well, what’s a good stuck-together conversation topic?”
Floyd hums thoughtfully. “You like shiny stuff?”
You blink at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just askin,’” he says, but his eyes flash with mischief. He leans in until his nose is touching yours. “Cuz I like shiny stuff, and Shrimpy’s glowin’ right now.”
Your face warms considerably and you push him away with an embarrassed groan. His giggles are muffled in your palm. “Not when we’re stuck together...”
v. “rather, ‘honey rain’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
You’re in the process of discussing spring weather with Azul when Floyd rushes up to you, takes your hand, gently spreads your fingers open as if they’re petals, and drops something onto your palm. You expect another tooth or a stone or a crumpled flower—all items he’s been gifting you at random over the course of a few months; what you don’t expect is an eel keychain. Perhaps you should have, though. You’ve learned to expect the unexpected with Floyd.
“What’s this?”
“For you!”
“An eel...for me?”
He nods and holds up a shrimp keychain. Your face warms when the implication becomes clear.
“It’s cute. Thanks. I’ll keep it safe.”
Floyd beams at you and presses his lips to your cheek in a fleeting smooch. Just as quick as he had come, he’s retreating, skipping off in delight, his laughter echoing down the halls while he ignores your flustered shout. You know he wants you to pursue him, but you’re too embarrassed to give chase. Instead, you scrub at your cheek with a huff. He’s always kissing your cheeks and sometimes even your lips. You enjoy it too much to remind him of all the rules the both of you have since broken. They mean nothing now.
“You certainly smell pleased,” Azul remarks with a sly smirk.
“It’s better than smelling funny.”
“Floyd still hasn’t told you what you smell like?”
“No! And it’s really annoying!” You peer at the tiny plush eel in your hands, its beady eyes and stitched smile taunting you. “It’s always ‘Shrimpy smells funny’ and never ‘Shrimpy smells like something that isn’t funny.’”
“I can assure you your scent is not at all humorous. It’s actually quite pleasant.”
“Are you just saying that to be nice, or are you saying that to be nice?”
Azul shakes his head in amusement. “Can’t I compliment a fellow omega and, most importantly, a friend?”
“Can’t you admit the truth?”
“Details, details.” He waves the dig away dismissively. “It’s no wonder Floyd fancies you so. He adores sweet things.”
“Oh, do I smell sweet then? Like candy? Or maybe like a pastry?”
“You smell like floral honey.”
“Huh. That’s...definitely not a funny scent.”
“Not at all. Rather, ‘honey rain’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
You wonder if you should object. You wonder if you should try to claim that you and Floyd are still friends despite the evolution of your arrangement. Neither of you have admitted it, but it’s obvious you’ve stepped over the boundary of ‘just friends’ and have entered new territory—territory that’s so very akin to lovers.
But you only smile covertly. “Yeah, it does,” you mumble, tracing your finger over the eel’s tilted head. “It really does.”
#tw: abo#tw: omegaverse#tw: knotting#n/sfw#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech x reader#floyd x reader#lunar love hotel 2023#fluffy floyd hours#since the type of writing wasn't specified i decided to write a oneshot :D
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Just a sample or two, I’m sure you’ll manage.
—sub!dottore/dom!reader, zandik!dottore, transmasc!reader (this is mostly dottore!receiving so no mention of the reader’s genitalia, but it’s still implied reader is transmasc), masochistic!dottore/sadistic!reader | imagined knifeplay (cuts), overstimulation, crying, degradation, slight dumbification, slight blood play, pain kink, unnegotiated kinks but everything is consensual (idk about safe or sane though because it’s dottore)
—i don’t know how to feel about this fic tbh. but it’s here. it’s okay. (edit: i reread it and its quite good)
Zandik knocks over the cup of coffee on his desk when he hears his door getting banged on. He swears that whoever is outside that door is going to get it, he’ll tear them apart into shreds and feed their body to the tigers…
With an annoyed face, Zandik opens up the door, ready to “politely” tell them to get the hell out of his face. The words are already on the tip of his tongue but he rests easy when he recognizes that it's only you, his next-door neighbor.
He quickly tries to remember if his room is a mess. Fuck, he did do laundry a while back, yeah? Does his room smell good? Is his bed fixed?
He panics, why are you even here?
He thinks all of that within three seconds.
“Zandik! I hope I'm not bothering you?” You stand outside his door, bearing that smile he somehow can’t say no to.
“You’re fine, come in.” He says as cool as he can, you’re the only person in your darshan that he can get along with. Hell, you’re the only person in the Akademiya he can tolerate.
“So, uhm.” You start, you’re carrying your bag so he assumes you just came from a class.
“Yes?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
He doesn’t miss the way you seem to be dancing around the topic. It’s not as if he cares what that favor is, if you ask him to kill a person for you then he’d do it, no questions asked.
“Spit it out then.”
You sigh, sitting down on his bed.
“You know I'm a scholar of Amurta.”
“Of course, you never fail to not bring it up every time I ask you about the subject of human anatomy.” He states, as if that wasn’t obvious already.
“I may need a…sample of sorts.”
Oh, that’s an easy fix. Were you too shy to ask for his blood? That’s strangely endearing.
“How much?” Zandik asks.
“Well, a cup? Maybe two so I don't mess up.” You quickly answer, you appear to be surprised at his immediate response.
“For blood? That seems quite a lot.” Zandik questions, it’s not that he won’t give you it, he’s just a bit confused.
“Not that…”
“What is it then?”
He hears you whisper something and Zandik swears that his ears are fucking with him.
“…Say that again?”
“Seminal Fluid?”
He's stunned for a bit. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it back once he discerns that that’s not the proper response to this situation.
“C-Can’t you do it yourself?” He asks, looking away from you.
Despite his wanting to be with you romantically, you two have never engaged in any of the sort. The most you’ve done is the slight brushing of your hands when working on an experiment.
“Zandik, you know I can't.”
He almost asks again why that is when he realizes.
“Oh.”
He blushes furiously and to your perspective, this might look strange. But when he hears you tearing up someone’s guts next door past bedtime hours, it’s hard not to imagine himself being the one who’s in your partner’s position.
In other words, he’s dreamed too much of being dicked down by you that he forgot about your case to begin with, not that it really matters to him.
And he would never admit to this, but sometimes the noises get a bit too loud for comfort that he has to take care of himself alone while he visualizes you doing that to him.
He hears you cough, standing up and trying to walk away from this whole thing as if nothing ever happened.
“You know what, I'll leave. I’ll find someone else.”
It is an embarrassing situation, this was not a scene that he had expected and prepared for.
“W-Wait,” He calls out, his hand grasping your wrist.
“Zandik, you don’t have to. I’ll just pay someone else to do it.” You explained to him that it really isn’t that big of a deal. “I think I came here because you’re my go-to person.” You chuckle.
Zandik really wants to cuss you out, you can’t just say that to him out of nowhere and then decide to leave right after.
He stammers out a response, “I-I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
It’s just silence for a few seconds until you decide to leave him be to do his business, telling him that you’ll just be next door and to take as much time as he needs.
And when the door slams in front of his face, is when he realizes the severity of his decision.
You’re telling him he’s supposed to jack off while knowing that you’re aware he’s doing exactly that?
Zandik unbuckles his belt, deciding that he might as well get this over with as soon as possible.
Then thirty minutes pass by.
Zandik has not filled a cup, nor is he even halfway to a climax. He tries to think of everything. Well, everything but you, imagining things that would turn him on that aren't you or fantasies that involve you.
He somehow finds this task to be difficult.
His cock is sitting on his leg half-hard, he’s racking his brain to find something that will make this easier and he soon realizes that every single time he’s masturbated somehow involved you in some kind of way.
He doesn’t want to believe that at all, surely not.
Is he really that into you?
He reminisces of each time you’ve been with him, the times when you lay an arm on his shoulder, pulling him closer to you without notice. The times when you whisper directly into his ear in the library that sends the poor man into a shock with how he feels your breathing on his neck, wanting you to lay those lips on his skin, to just mark him without care while trying not to get caught by the other students passing by your table.
Zandik whimpers just at the thought of it. He snaps out of his thoughts once he notices that he’s fully hard now, with precum even oozing out his dick.
He plays with the white liquid, he relishes the fact that you’re able to affect him like this when you’re not even here, to begin with. He grits his teeth, warming the tip with his palm, the stickiness making Zandik slightly quiver from how messy it is.
His control over his own thoughts and body is slowly starting to slip, his hips moving on their own as his cock longs for the warmth of his hand. He stifles back a moan, thinking about you has his mind going dumb.
He wonders if you know about these feelings of his, the way he has to excuse himself each instance your touches linger on for too long, his entire body stiffening as a pathetic noise tries to escape his throat.
“Haah…”
He wants to stay quiet, knowing that the walls are quite thin and that if he can hear you from back then, so is the opposite.
He breathes impatiently. This isn’t enough at all, he needs more.
Zandik wants to know how it would feel to have you explore his entire body, to have you see every vein and how his blood flows throughout his skin. He knows you’d grow fascinated by him, like you would with any cadaver.
His head tilts back at the thought of you slicing him open, drawing cuts with a scalpel on his thighs as he bleeds, the wounds aching as your tongue licks them oh so slowly. His cock twitches, the stroking of his length getting more and more desperate.
He grows weak as he envisions you squeezing them as you penetrate him, spreading him apart without any preparation whatsoever. He sobs at that, he needs you to put him into his place, to shame him for thinking such disgusting things. To treat him as nothing more than trash, that he’s a whore for enjoying these kinds of acts.
His left hand grips the sheets for stability, the other continuing to pump himself until he spills. His vision blurs from both the pleasure and the tears, almost forgetting about the reason why he’s doing this to begin with, too high of his lust for you.
He stumbles over, aiming for the cups you’ve given him.
Zandik moans loudly as he finishes, not all of his fluid gets into the containers. In fact, most of it splattered all over his bed and his legs. He waits until he stops cumming, panting heavily as sweat drips off his forehead.
It’s worrying how much of a pull you have toward him.
He sits there for a few minutes, resting easy until he hears knocking on the door.
“Y-Yeah?” He calls out from his bed, too tired to stand up.
“Are you done?”
Zandik immediately rushes to the door, taking his blanket with him to cover his lower half.
He opens the door with a slight shake of his hand, openly oblivious to how he looks right now to you.
His hair is a mess, his face…
He looks as if he’s in a daze, and he is, for the most part. There are traces of tears from his wet eyelashes, eyes staring at you as if he’s begging for you to take a bite out of him, to fuck him right then and there.
He looks so pitiful and vulnerable, an appearance that you’ve never seen of him, an appearance that he’d never show others, an appearance that he’d only show to you.
His legs are bare, the blanket doing nothing to hide the shape of his hips. There’s cum dripping down his legs and you knew you should have knocked later. But once you heard your friend sound like that, your urges got the best of you.
You’re sure glad you didn’t stop yourself.
“R-Right…You need it warm, yes?” Zandik says, embarrassed at what he’s just done and thought of while he got himself off.
“Yeah…” You answer, mind focused on his figure instead of what you initially came here for.
He hands you the containers you’ve given him, the liquid splashing.
“Thank you, Zandik.”
“Of course, anytime…” He replies.
You could just leave, pretend as if you didn’t hear him earlier or those other times he’s fucked himself alone while moaning out your name, distracting you even if you were in bed with another.
“Hey, Zandik?”
“Hm?”
You know he’s into you, and the gods know you’d be lying if you claimed you weren’t turned on by Zandik right now.
The next few moments are a blur and Zandik is unsure how he’s ended up at a loss for words, his legs being spread apart by your hands as he’s forced to bear the shame of you seeing him already so stiffened despite just cumming a few minutes ago.
“So soaked…”
“S-Sorry…” He apologizes, trying to look away.
Zandik blushes at the fact he hasn’t trimmed there in a while.
“Cute.”
His heart beats loudly in his chest, unsure of how to process this whole thing.
He’s not complaining at all, no. He’s just surprised at how you’re being so forward with him like this, not sure whether to take this as a one-time thing or if there’s something more to your actions.
“What would you like me to do?” You question.
That’s a loaded question. What doesn’t he want you to do?
Everything, he wants to say. He wants to be greedy. He’s been waiting for something like this to happen for so long, it’d be a waste to just be shy and act like this.
Still, thinking that is easier than actually doing it.
“T-Touch me, please.”
“How? Won’t you show me how you do it, Zandik?”
He nods shyly, bringing his hand to his cock. He’s much more sensitive now than before since he’s just had his orgasm. He ponders on what lay behind those eyes of yours, staring him down intensely as he tries to focus on himself.
It doesn’t take much for him to be hard, especially with how your hands feel on his thighs. It’s shameful to see himself leaking so much already, a lot quicker than when he did this alone earlier.
His hips convulse while he strokes himself, “Aren’t you eager?” You ask him, but that just makes him whine impatiently.
This is a lot tamer than he had imagined but that doesn’t erase the satisfaction that he’s getting right now.
“I might cum…” He simply says, still keeping at the same pace.
“Are you asking for permission?”
Zandik whimpers out softly, nodding his head at your question.
“Do you think you deserve it?”
Does he? He thinks he does, but what if you don’t think the same way? A loud gasp escapes him, he can’t hold it for much longer. Tears start to form again from his ducts, a sobbing mess who just wants to please you as much as he can.
Chants of your name and pleading continue, yet it won’t seem like you’re taking that as an answer.
A sudden pain shocks his entire body when he feels your nails digging down his thighs. Each second is a nightmare, your nails going deeper and deeper as blood drips down to his sides, staining the sheets of his bed.
God, that feels so fucking good.
“H-Hurts…” He says.
“Yeah? Maybe, If you answer my question, I’ll let you go.” You continue pressing on the newmade wounds, raising a moan out of him.
“I-I don't know…”
“Ah, but Zandik. Aren’t you the smart one?”
He sobs, he’s supposed to agree with you but doesn’t find it in his mind to do so right now. “Please—can’t hold it.”
You continue to stare at him in silence, even as Zandik loses control, apologizing repeatedly for finishing with your say.
His thighs twitch every few seconds, his eyelids getting heavier when he tries to focus on the fact that you’re still on top of him.
“My, I’m still here you know?”
You make that perfectly clear when you shove your fingers into his gaping mouth, the taste of his own cum and blood makes him gag, yet you continue to push your fingers down his throat. He slobbers all over them, yet he takes it with no resistance. He wants you to go even deeper, to ruin his throat.
Eventually, you pull away. The sound that comes out of him is hoarse, yet he still stares at you with loving eyes.
“Want you.” Zandik begs,
“Prove it, darling.”
#plattered writings#dottore x reader#genshin impact x reader#il dottore x reader#sub genshin impact#sub genshin#dom reader#sub dottore#dom!reader#sub!dottore
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[ℝ𝔼ℂℍ𝔸ℤ𝔸𝕄𝔼]-ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥-
pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader
summary - simpy down-bad reader back at it again, this time on a red carpet feature !
warnings - fluff, sprinkle of spice, make-out session
an - im planning on writing pt4 for Woe Is Me, it’s just been hard trying to figure out what the best plot line it should be. thank you so much to those who have been so patient, i applaud you for that
(THIS IS APART OF A SMALL SERIES, EACH CHAPTER WILL BE A WORD THAT STARTS WITH THE LETTER P, THE FIRST TWO ARE PRAISING AND PLEASING)
(see dress and suit)
╭∩╮(ಠ_ಠ)╭∩╮╭∩╮(ಠ_ಠ)╭∩╮
“Babe…” Jenna murmured from beside you, reaching out to grab your hand, “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” You lied, putting on a small smile, “I promise.”
The two of you were at a huge event for Jenna’s new movie with the Weeknd, and your anxiety was not happy with you. Ever since you arrived and saw the large crowd, your stomach has been clawing at your throat as soon as you stepped out of the car.
Jenna had done as much as she could to make you feel as comfortable as possible, but there was only so many things she could do. It’s not like she could remove the large crowd, and even if she could, there would still be tons of paparazzi in your face with big cameras and even bigger flashes.
Thankfully, she made sure you were always near her and tucked behind someone at all times so you wouldn’t be in the spotlight. Having bodyguards and stylists around her at all times made it very easy for you to hide from the publicity.
As of right now, you were standing sort of behind Enrique, his body being used as a shield so you wouldn’t have to see the photographers head on. Jenna was to your right, smiling for the cameras and posing whenever someone yelled her name.
“Jenna over here!”
“Look this way Jenna!”
“Jenna this way!”
“C’mon Jenna smile for me!”
“Big smile Jenna! Give me a pretty face!”
“This is intense.” You muttered to Enrique, cringing when the calls got slightly louder.
He laughed, leaning back ever so slightly to bump his shoulder to yours. “You get used to it, I promise.”
‘Definitely not’ You thought, shuffling over when someone wanted to pass. Big events and celebrity stuff was for Jenna, all you wanted and needed to be was her assistant who stayed silent and did what you were told. You also needed to be her girlfriend, someone to keep her anchored and sane in her hollywood world.
“We are gonna move into the theater soon.” Natalie said from your left, nudging your leg with her hand to get your attention, “Jenna has one more interview until we get to go in, so we can wait over there.”
“Okay.” You replied, glancing at your girlfriend before following Natalie to a more secluded spot on the carpet.
Once you both were situated, you turned to watch Jenna do her last interview for the night. She smiled and laughed, enthusiastically talking about the new movie and her previous projects that she loved so much. The joyful aura she was radiating had you swooning.
It was easy for you to just admire her, taking in her beauty from afar. She was a blessing from above, or what your mom liked to say, a nice plate of christmas ham; something that looks great and is enjoyed by all.
“Thank you so much!” The interviewer said to Jenna as she left.
She smiled and waved goodbye before turning towards you and Natalie, her eyes immediately finding yours. A slight blush came across her cheeks at the sight of you, her bottom lip slipping in between her teeth while her eyes scanned your body.
‘She’s checking me out’ You thought, rocking nervously on your feet.
“Are you ready?” Jenna’s manager asked her, causing her eyes to leave yours.
“Yeah! Let’s go enjoy the movie!” She said enthusiastically, looking at everyone while they all nodded.
You smiled at her, falling into step beside her when she slipped her hand into yours. She moved closer to you, slightly leaning into you so her mouth was near your ear.
“You look extremely handsome darling.” She murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I need to put you in suits more often.”
You blushed madly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. Jenna giggled at your reaction, bumping her shoulder against yours before standing up straighter when you both reached the entryway into the theater.
Once you were ushered to your seats, you were quick to take your suit jacket off and give it to Jenna. You knew how chilly it could get at these kind of viewings, and you also knew that Jenna gets cold very easily, so the best option was to just give her your jacket to avoid her getting grumpy.
“Thank you.” She said after you helped her out it on, “C’mere and sit.”
You obliged, sliding into the seat next to her. Immediately she took your hand and placed it on her thigh, both of her hands resting on top of your own. Her touch was soft, welcoming and warm for you to invade her space and be apart of it whenever you wanted to be.
“You’re cold.” Jenna noted, pulling your hand to the inside of her thigh, “And shaky, are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little anxious.” You answered honestly, running your tongue along your teeth, “I’m fine though!”
Jenna glanced at your bouncing leg, then back to your shaky hand, and then stood up. She tugged you up with her, wordlessly walking out of the theatre and into the lobby. Very few people were there, just a couple directors and some security, but other than them it was empty.
“Jenna.” You said, curious to where she was taking you.
She stayed silent, dragging you along until she came face to face with the girls bathroom. She pushed the door open, pulling you inside and shutting it behind you when you crossed the threshold. The sound of the lock clicking hit your ears, but before you could comment you were being pushed up and onto the counter.
Jenna say you on the cold surface, nudging your knees apart with her own before settling in between your legs. Her hands found their way to rest on your thighs, and the she leaned up to kiss you.
Her lips were soft, plump and warm and tasting faintly of strawberries and stale lipstick. You kissed her back immediately, your hands automatically drifting up to cup her cheeks. It felt comfortable and natural to kiss her, especially when she squeezed your thigh and slid her tongue into your mouth when you let out a small gasp.
“Jenna.” Your moan was muffled by her kiss, body on fire from her touch.
“Shhh.” She murmured to you, kissing from the corner of your lips down to your collarbone, “Let me help you relax.”
You sighed, turning your head to the side to give her more room to mark your neck. Jenna pecked the underside of your jaw in response, her lips moving down to suck on your jugular.
“Y-your manager is g-gonna kill me…” You whisper, your eyes rolling from the feeling of her sucking a hickey onto your neck.
“They won’t do anything, you are not their property.” Jenna said, leaning back to look at what she did to you.
You turned your head, eyes widening at the sight. Your neck was covered in little dark spots, skin littered with hickeys all over. There was a slightly larger and darker one on your collarbone, a clear sign of Jenna’s possessive nature.
“You look…” She pondered for a moment, looking at you in the mirror, “Hot.”
You agreed, because you truly did look hot. With the marks all over your neck, and the way that your shirt was ruffled and undone down to your your bellybutton really helped to give you the part of the sexy butch bisexual.
“Thanks, I guess?” You responded, giving her a cheeky grin.
Jenna giggled, standing up on her tippy toes to kiss the tip of your nose. Her hand slipped into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“We need to go back.” You mumbled, tilting your head down to rest your forehead against hers while your eyes fell shut, “They are probably looking for you.”
“Let them.” Jenna replied, her other hand sliding around your waist to pull herself closer to you.
“But-?”
“Don’t.” She interrupted you, kissing your lips softly, “I don’t care if they need me, want me, or whatever. I’m here for you, because you need me.”
“Okay.” You whispered, scrunching your face up when she nudged her nose against yours, “We can stay.”
“Are you feeling better?” She asked, pulling back to grasp your chin gently, “Anything else I can do?”
You smirked, leaning your head into her palm, “You can kiss my some more, I don’t think you did enough.”
Jenna smiled, a light blush coating her cheeks.
“Always.”
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taglist: @cartierdreamx @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega edit#jenna#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega fluff#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega smut#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#jennaortegaedit#ortega#wednesday#wednesday adams imagine#wednesday addams x reader
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friends to lovers with jaime reyes please? the movie had me in my feels fr ‼️
From Friends to Something More?
Characters: Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Summary: (Requested) thanks and same, I full on cried during the movie. After you experienced a bad break up, Jaime is there to pick up the pieces. 💙
Warnings: pinning, jealousy,
-
All you wanted to was sink into your couch and continued shoving ice cream into your mouth.
Your long time boyfriend for 5 years decided to dump you, right out of the blue. And it was a simple text, cold and distant.
“We’re done,” the message read and he blocked you on everything.
You were shocked, confused, angry. But all you could feel was numbness. I mean, you two were going through a rough patch in your relationship but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.
Well, that’s what you thought at least. So for a day, you laid in bed, self pity fulling your body when you eventually stopped being numb. You had turned off your phone the night before.
Knowing yourself, you would’ve scrolled through your texts threads looking for any and all indicating that he was going to break up with you. Reading in between the lines, dissecting the words over and over again until you could’ve recite most of the messages.
It was getting ugly and unhealthy pretty fast so you decided to unplug for a bit, within the comfortable confines of your apartment. You didn’t feel strong enough to brave the outside yet.
You and your ex lived pretty close to each other, which once was a blessing now a curse.
You didn’t know where he could be out and about so you decided to take advantage of Grubhub and Instacart. You rarely used them because of their rather high prices but you’ll make an exception.
There’s a knock on your front door and you could only assume it’s the deliver person. You chose the option no contact because you looked like a mess with red, puffy eyes and let’s not even talk about the hair.
You opened the door, expecting to see groceries but you saw Jaime and groceries.
You hastily attempted to make yourself look somewhat presentable, “What…what are you doing here?”
He lets himself in your apartment, taking off his shoes and placing the bags on the coffee table.
“You haven’t been answering my phone calls or texts.” He turned around and dragged his hand through his hair, “I…I know you said you’ll offline but I was still worried for you. You just went dark outta the blue for weeks.”
“Well as you can see I’m alive and well,” you laughed bitterly and gestured to yourself.
“Well?” He chuckled softly.
You bark out a laugh—something you haven’t done in a while—and laid on the couch while Jaime packed away your groceries.
It was nice being with someone, especially with Jaime. You could never understand why but you just felt naturally at ease whenever Jaime was around. You needed your space but now you needed comfort.
“What do you want for dinner?” He asked.
“What’s in the fridge?” You responded.
While you bought groceries, well, there wasn’t many things that you could make with them. Well, things that any sane person would eat anyway.
“Okay, so pizza then?” He suggested and flopped on to the couch next to you.
From how close you two were, you could smell the aftershave he used this morning, it smelt good.
No, no. Jaime is your friend, friend only. Nothing more, nothing less.
You broke out of your thoughts by Jaime snapping his fingers in front of you. He looked mildly concerned.
“Are you okay?” He asked and turned his whole body to get a better look at you.
“Oh..yea, yea I’m good. But yea pizza sounds great. Cheese, please?”
He didn’t seem to believe you with the way he rolled his eyes however he let it go,”But aren’t you-“
You putted your finger to his mouth to shush him.
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Order please so it can come soon, and I won’t have to die of starvation,” you dramatically placed your arm over your eyes, which caused Jaime to laugh.
“Okay, okay. Just don’t go crying to me when your stomach starts to hurt,” he warned.
“My stomach doesn’t hurt that bad when I eat cheese,” you confidently dismissed him, knowing you were lying through your teeth.
Soon the pizza came, and you and Jaime were half way through the Fast & Furious franchise.
“They’re coming out with a new movie,” Jaime informed you, his head resting on the palm of his hand.
You turned to him in shock, “Really? They still making movies?”
Jaime chuckled softly and it’s music to your ears, “Yea, that’s what my mom said.” After a while there’s silence then, “She misses you. They all do.”
You sighed, “Yea I miss them too.”
I missed you too.
You wanted to desperately say that, to confess. It was hard to know if these feelings were romantic or platonic but you felt them deeply. And you were just dumped so maybe these feeling weren’t real at all. Your just lonely and that’s why these thoughts keep popping up in your brain.
That’s why your heart skips a beat whenever Jaime’s hand graced your leg.
That’s why you feel tongue tied when he laughs or looks at you with those gorgeous eyes.
That’s why-
“Are you sure your okay?” He asked again, looking more concerned than last time.
You nodded, “Of course I am.”
“If your gonna lie to my face, then at least learn to lie better,” he grumbled and moved slightly away for you. It was small but noticeable, and it hurted you.
“What’s your problem?” You asked with a glare on your face.
Jaime looked like he wanted to say something, like it was on the tip of his tongue but he shook his head and stayed quiet. The silence was loud and deafening.
You scooted closer on the couch to Jaime, the light from the tv lighting up the profile of his face, “Out with it. We both know that you wanna say it, so say it.”
He turned to face you, and that’s when you noticed how close you two were. Closer than you were before, but you didn’t let that distract you. You were on a mission.
He sighed, “It’s rude.”
You tilted your head, “And when has that every stopped you before?”
“I told you so,” was that left Jaime mouth. It was short, to the point but you understood.
You sighed and leaned your head against the couch, “Yea, I know.”
“So what did you even see in him?” Jaime asked.
I was tired of being lonely.
I was tired of longing.
I was tired of wanting something I couldn’t have.
You scratched the back of your neck, “Um it’s stupid and I wanna forget about him.”
Jaime nodded and cracked a smile, “Like it’ll be easy to forget him. Everything about him is unmemorable.”
You let out a low chuckle at his snide comment. Jaime never really liked your boyfriend, though he always kept his opinions to himself (or well attempted to anyway) and didn’t start anything.
A comfortable silence had formed between the two of you as you both watched the movie. You still were stealing quick glances at Jaime, wishing you had the courage to just say what you wanted.
Before you knew it, your head was on his and you were fast asleep. You didn’t see the soft smile on Jaime’s face when he looked down at you, how much love that was in his eyes.
Maybe the feelings you have for him, aren’t completely unrequited.
-
Tags: @wintersdeadd, @allthingsvicf, @sodacatz, @bluecray0nn, @scryarchives, @dcnerd98, @alexa-33, @666kpopfan, @marmar-c, @asvterias, @zerosinterweb, @xiaryye, @shslsimpette, @itsyagrillkat, @losingmywayyyy, @1clownette1, @nightwingandhissquad, @avatarl0v3r, @17ppm3, @fullsiinner, @zerosinterweb, @
Taglist & Anonlist & Masterlist & Reqs Info
#jaime reyes x you#jaime reyes x y/n#jaime reyes x reader#jaime reyes fic#jaime reyes fanfiction#jaime reyes imagine#jaime reyes fanfic#jaime reyes#blue beetle fanfiction#blue beetle x reader#blue beetle fanfic#blue beetle imagines#blue beetle fic#blue beetle imagine#blue beetle x you#blue beetle x y/n#reader insert
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Screaming and Crying Part 2
Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader
Summary: Part 2. You're recovering from the hurt Xavier caused. You've avoided him at all costs, but how long can it go on?
A/n: Here's part 2! I had so much fun writing this. Isabella is based off of one of my best friends who helped me proof read this lol
Requests are open! Send anything in!
The sun was setting by the time you made your way back to the school. Your phone had gone off multiple times with calls and texts from friends questioning your disappearance. You ignored them all. You couldn’t find it in you to care. The blood had long dried on your knuckles, not until after you had finished punishing the poor tree more. Your arm hung limp at your side, your wrist had swelled and was throbbing. Probably sprained or broken. You couldn’t find it in you to care about that either.
You were sure you looked crazy, your hair a wind blown mess, face tear stricken, and blood covering your hand. You walked through the quad and ignored the people who gawked at you. It was very few due to the late hour, dinner had passed so you just made your way to your dorm. Isabella, your roommate, would be pissed seeing as you had ignored every worried attempt she made to reach out to you. You were correct in your assumptions. The minute you swung your door open she was bolting to her feet.
“No, no she just came in. Yeah I'll call you back. Okay bye,” she hung up the phone and sighed. “That was Enid. We were worried sick about you! What happened? Oh my gosh your hand! Bitch, what happened?”
You surprised both yourself and Isabella when you broke out laughing at their outburst.It was odd, the rush of adrenaline you had gained from the situation. You felt floaty, like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. Isabella stood there, gaping at you. This caused more laughter to flow out of you due to them looking like the human embodiment of the stupid emoji everyone uses. She almost looked afraid of you. When you finally calmed your fit of giggles, they spoke.
“Girl, what the fuck. What is happening right now?”
“I don’t even know man. I’m... I'm so tired. And boys are buttheads.”
“You say that like that's something new. I’m telling you, women are just better. But what happened? Was it that blonde beanstock you’re always with? What’s his name? Tarzan?”
You laughed again,” Xavier. And yeah it was him. It was him and his infatuation with that Wednesday girl.”
“Oh my god,” Isabella dragged out the last syllable, “I can’t blame him girl she’s so fine!”
You just glared at her and moved to go to your shared restroom. You wanted to wash the blood off your hand and inspect the damage done.
“Way to rub salt in the wound, thank you. So much,” you muttered over the sound of the sink running.
“Listen. Here me out on this. Please, plEAaase,” they whined from the doorway.
“Just grab me some pajamas, will you? I think I need a shower to get all of this off. My plaid pajama pants please.”
You heard rustling and heard Isabella call out to you.
“Not to ruin the good mood or anything, but shouldn’t you be having a mental breakdown right now? You haven’t even told me what happened, but I feel like there should be more tears.”
“I think it’ll come later, I’m kind of-,” You cut yourself off to take the clothes she had gathered from them. “Thank you. I’m kind of numb right now. I think it’s shock. And adrenaline. I don’t know. Can I explain after my shower?”
“Fine, but hurry up. I wanna know what my reasoning is going to be for kicking Tarzan’s ass,” and with that they shut the door behind them.
You slipped into the shower, the warm water relaxing your muscles. The silence without music would usually bother you, but tonight it was welcomed. Your head was finally quiet. Thoughts of Xavier and Wednesday kissing and holding hands long forgotten. You were just looking forward to the weekend now.
—------
It had been 2 days since that night. Isabella had kept you sane and occupied all weekend. You had shit talked and stuffed your faces with all the junk food you could find. Isabella had also confiscated your phone, claiming that “We can’t risk you being a pussy and giving into your problem.” So if anyone had tried to contact you it went unanswered. Bianca and the twins, you and Isabella’s friends, knew to take her if they needed something.
It was Monday morning now. You really, really did not want to go to class knowing you would have to see both Xavier and Wednesday and all your mutual friends, but Isabella forced you. They told you to “women up” and be a bad bitch. But you really didn’t feel like a bad bitch. You felt a bit pathetic. Isabella threw a pillow at you, startling you from your thoughts.
You flipped them off and then slipped out of bed and went to get dressed. Due to the weather being so cold the rules on uniform were a bit more lenient so you slid on some leggings and your Nevermore crewneck. The sleeve stuck to the brace you had around your wrist, luckily you hadn’t broken it, but it was sprained pretty bad. Isabella was getting ready too, but when she saw you in your comfy outfit she paused.
“Tell me you are not planning on wearing that.”
You looked down, confused.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Girl! We get the chance to dress how we want, be cute!”
“Says you,” you grumbled playfully but went to change anyway.
You threw on some jeans and a long sleeve top with a t-shirt over it. Then you threw on some shoes and walked out of your closet.
“Is this better,” You raised your arms in question.
Isabella nodded in approval and then they shoved your bag and phone into your hands.
“Let’s go, Bianca is waiting and I’m hungry. You took too long.”
“What?,” You yelled as you were pushed out the door and towards the stairs. “You’re the one who made me change! I was ready!”
The two of you continued to bicker all the way down to the quad, where Bianca and the twins were standing there waiting for you. When you approached them, Bianca wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. You laughed softly at the action. It was odd, your guys' relationship. She was Xavier’s ex yes, but before that you had all been friends. And that didn’t stop despite the conflict between the broken up couple. You had always trusted Bianca, and though it was a bit awkward at first, you remained close no matter the circumstances.
When you pulled away Bianca held you by the shoulders and smiled at you.
“He’s a dick who doesn’t know what’s good for him. You’re amazing and you’re so much more mature than him.”
You smiled at her, and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you, Bianca.”
“Guuuuuyyyyys, I’m hungrryyyyyyyyy.”
Your group all laughed at Isabella’s complaints. You all agreed to have the twins grab the food and then they’d meet you guys back at the table to eat. It was nice to laugh freely with your friends. A weight was lifted off your chest. When the twins returned you all dug into your food. You were all joking and bickering amongst yourselves. You almost forgot about your conflict with Xavier. Almost.
The thought of him still lingered in your brain. It stayed there through breakfast and while you were walking to class. You were so lost in conversation that you forgot that you had your first class with him. You remembered when you walked in the doorway and saw him sitting in his seat, the one next to him empty where you would usually be. You froze in your spot, your heart palpitating painfully. Isabella stopped next to you with a puzzled look.
“Why’d you stop in the middle of the- Oh.”
They cut themselves off when they saw where you were looking. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too enamored in his drawing he was working on. You looked up at your friend next to you, your eyes wide with panic. You didn’t know what to do.
“Hey hey hey, don’t cry please. I don’t do well with crying. Here, you’ll sit with me. I’ll be your new partner,” She was already guiding you to your new seat.
When you got there you kept your head low, afraid to look up and make eye contact with Xavier. You sat next to Isabella and they struck conversation with you easily until the teacher walked in. When you heard the footsteps walk in the room you instinctually looked up, and you wished you hadn’t. Your eyes drifted across the room to where Xavier sat, the seat next to him now occupied. The sight of him and his new partner made your stomach drop. It was Wednesday sitting next to him. Of course it was.
He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced over at you. When his eyes met yours and widened, you quickly hardened your gaze and looked away. You didn’t want him to see the hurt you still felt. Straightening your back you focused your attention on the lecture, you wouldn’t let him get to you.
___
The lecture felt like it went on forever, so when it was finally over you were extremely relieved. You and Isabella parted ways at the door, they would go to their next class and you would go to chemistry. With Xavier. Your chest tightened at the thought. You sped up your pace as you walked towards the class, hoping if you got there fast enough you could find any seat away from him. But the universe decided to give you a huge middle finger today. When you arrived at the class there were only 2 open seats. Right next to each other.
You sighed. You were too tired for this. Maybe you could just ignore him and he’d leave you alone. That is if he even wanted anything to do with you. You didn’t have to wait long to see his reaction. He walked in not long after you, his eyes darting between you and the chair next to you. You continued to look down at your paper, refusing to meet his eyes. You heard him audibly sigh before he dropped his bag and sat next to you. You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head, but you didn’t dare look over.
Class started and things were going smoothly. The class was mostly notes, so there was no need to talk to the boy next to you. That didn’t stop him from bothering you though. As you concentrated on the board ahead of you, you felt something land on your hand. Looking down, you saw a butterfly perched on the back of your hand. It was a dark gray, clearly one of Xavier's drawings. You felt your heart pick up at the thought of him trying to get your attention. Immediately, you shook your hand, and your head, slightly to clear the butterfly and your thoughts. Xavier sighed again and then looked back at the board.
—
After that there were no incidents. The day continued smoothly and by the end of it you were exhausted and ready to flop on your bed. You did just that when you arrived at your dorm. Throwing your bag to the ground, you ran and fell face first on the plush covers. Not 5 minutes into your silence, the door burst open. In came Isabella and Bianca, talking loudly before they saw you.
“Y/n,” Isabella called out. “What are you doing? We’re going down to Weathervane in like 10 minutes?”
You grumbled back, your words being incoherent. You didn’t want to get up. But you also wanted coffee.
Slowly you rolled off your bed and to the floor, and then looked towards your friends. Isabella looked confused, Bianca looked concerned. You reached your hands out towards them and pouted.
“Help please,” You wiggled your fingers at them.
They looked at each other and sighed before walking to you and pulling you to your feet. Then they dragged you out the door, leading you on the bus that was going to bring kids down to town. When you arrived in the cafe you practically ran for the counter. No one was there yet, but you knew the boy who worked here most days, Tyler. You guys had met at one of the festivals in town before his whole argument with Xavier. You had been pissed with him over what he did to Xavier, but after he apologized and explained himself you had become civil once again. Now you were more acquaintances than friends, but you loved the way he made your coffee so you were kind to him.
You dinged the bell on the counter obnoxiously while Isabella and Bianca made their way into the shop. You heard Tyler yell something from the back before he came into your view, clearly frustrated. You gave him a sickly sweet and innocent smile.
“Hi Tyler, did you miss me?”
“Oh so very much,” he smiled back at you. “The usual I assume? You want to put theirs on your order too?”
He pointed at your two friends behind you, who he had seen come in with you hundreds of times before. They had already sat down and were chatting idly.
“Yes please, I’m treating today,” You said, pulling out your wallet.
As you fished for the right amount of cash you heard Tyler speak again.
“What about his?”
Your head snapped up, your brows furrowed. You had been so focused on the money that you hadn’t heard the door open. When you glanced behind you, you saw the last person you wanted to see. Xavier.
“No, uh. He’s not with me- us today,” You tripped over your words, hands now shaking as you tried to hand the cash to the boy in front of you.
Tyler quickly took note of the way you trembled and how your eyes were watering. He quickly grew concerned. You two may not be close, but he cared enough to know he didn’t like seeing you this upset. He made eye contact with Bianca, who had been watching since Xavier walked in, and waved her over. Then he placed his hand over yours.
“Hey, Y/n,” He dipped his head trying to make eye contact with you. “Hey, why don’t you go sit down? Bianca or Isabella can help me okay?”
You just nodded slightly, feeling Bianca take your shoulder gently and guiding you to the table. Isabella was finishing the transaction with Tyler, both of them looking over at you with worry occasionally. You glanced around the shop in panic, not being able to find the boy you were so desperately avoiding. That was until he was standing directly in front of your table, just next to where Bianca sat.
“Y/n, can I- Can I talk to you, please?,” Xavier stumbled over his words.
Your friend tensed and got ready to get up and give him a piece of her mind, but your hand on her arm stopped her. Xavier saw you whisper something in the siren’s ear before she slid out of the booth, giving you room to slip out too. You made brief eye contact with your previous best friend, before turning on your heel and walking out the door.
You continued to walk until you were in the grass across the street from the cafe. You knew he was following you. Like a love sick puppy. You scoffed to yourself. When you decided you were far enough from the shop you stopped and waited for him to approach you. You felt him stop behind you, but you didn’t turn.
“Y/n, please would you look at me? Look, I know I messed up. I was a total dick and I’m so sorry. I just was so excited about Wednesday, I mean I really like her. I haven’t liked anyone this much since Bianca and I-,” He cut himself off when he noticed your arms wrapped around yourself, your shoulders shaking.
You still had your back to him so he couldn’t see the tears streaking your cheeks, but he knew you were crying. You never cried. And he made you cry. Oh shit. Why were you crying? He rushed forward and turned you gently. Grabbing your cheeks, he made you look up at him. Xavier’s thumbs brushed along your cheeks, concern filling his eyes.
“Please talk to me. I don’t think I can handle you being quiet anymore. You’re never quiet with me and these past couple of days I've been trying to give you space but it’s so hard. I miss you. I miss my best friend.”
He whispered the last part, resting his forehead on yours. You furrowed your brows and sniffled. Then you pushed him away, hitting his chest. You punched and pushed and hit and Xavier took it all because he knew he deserved it.
“You idiot,” You yelled at him. “I have supported you for years! I’ve been your best friend, no matter how much you’ve pissed me off. No matter what you have said to me. And you know why I did that? Because I love you, you moron. I have loved you since we were kids, and I haven’t done anything because I just want you to be happy. But whenever any other girl comes along, you throw yourself at her! You ignore me! I’m tired Xavier! I’m so tired.”
Your shoulders slumped forward and you sighed. Xavier was a few steps in front of you, shock written across his face. His eyes were watering, his cheeks flushed. You wiped your face and felt that you had been sobbing the entire rant. Xavier took a step forward and you took one back.
“You… love me?,” He asked, like he was afraid he would scare you off.
You shook your head and glared at the grass below you.
“Only since we were 8.”
“Y/n… I don't know what to say,” He started.
“Don’t say anything. Go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
As you turned to walk away, Xavier’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. His mind was racing, he was panicking. He couldn’t let you walk away. Not when he found out you loved him back and every stupid this he’s done in the past year was for nothing. So he panicked and said the first thing that came to mind.
“Wednesday is a lesbian. She likes Isabella.”
You froze. You tried to process the information the tall boy had just blurted but you couldn’t. Not fully. So you burst out an incredulous laugh and collapsed to the ground. Xavier wasn’t expecting it, and with his grip still tight on your wrist he was pulled down along with you. He landed half on top of you, his arms on either side of your head to keep him from crushing you. His long hair tickled your face and you scrunched your nose at the sensation. Then you realized the position you were in. You blushed, heat rushing to your face and looked everywhere but the boy on top of you.
Xavier on the other hand could only see you. He could only focus on your eyes, the freckles that dotted your skin, the way your lips pulled into that beautiful little frown. He gently reached down and ran his thumb across your eyebrows, trying to soothe the harsh lines there. Then he cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. What he did next made your heart completely start and restart in your chest.
Xavier had leaned down, pressing his lips to yours carefully. He pulled away quickly, not wanting to overstep. Before you could question him, he spoke:
“I thought you only saw me as a brother. That’s what Rowan and Ajax, my parents, everyone told me. They told me I couldn’t ruin our friendship. So like the moron I am, I listened. I pushed away my feelings for you and I went after other girls because I thought it was the only chance I had at staying in your life. Sure, I liked Bianca and Wednesday. Maybe I had a crush on them. But I wasn’t in love with them like I am with you. I am so sorry, Y/n. I never should have said what I did. If I could take it back I would. But because I can't, I'll spend my entire life making it up to you.”
You were in shock. What the fuck was he thinking:? He could just apologize and confess his love and everything would be fine? No. You smiled up at him and then you slapped him. Hard. His face turned with the impact. And then you grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.
“You owe me so many things, the list is at least a mile long,” You said as you pulled back and then kissed where your hand had met his face. “But we have all the time in the world for you to complete that list.”
Xavier leaned down to kiss you again and then pulled away with a frown.
“That hurt,” He whined.
“You deserved it and you know it,” you kissed his cheek once more before gently pushing him off of you. “Now come on, we need to get Isabella a girlfriend. Maybe she’ll finally stop making me watch anime with her.”
___
Tags: @555stargirl555 @weasleylovers @wrenwastooshort @justanotherkpopstanlol @lovurryy @rainehatepage @ghostlycrystobalove @bambi-munson @hershey2813 @karslyn @nothingbeatsthebeautyofthemoon @parkersmyth @multistangirl07 @emilykolchivans
#xavier thorpe x reader#xavier thorpe x reader comfort#xavier thorpe x you#xavier thorpe x y/n#xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe x reader smut#xavier thorpe x reader angst#xavier thorpe angst#xavier thorpe smut#wednesday addams#wednesday show#wednesday
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smile
summary - harry can’t go a show without calling you beforehand
warnings: fluff?! swearing, it’s based off that photo abov
word count: -1k
L.A. traffic had its reputation for being the worst traffic on the planet.
You’d drive 50 metres and it will have taken you 50 minutes. There was no traffic like it - other than maybe the M25 outside London.
Most people would avoid this traffic, trying to get to their destinations with as little car congestion as possible. However, Harry had other plans. Harry would happily sit for 50 minutes to travel 50 metres, because he happened to love car journeys.
They were his only trips alone. They were a few minutes, or a few hours, of solitary peace and he depended on them to keep him sane. The only other person he would be okay enough to share this time with was his fiancé; you.
Normally you’d be travelling sat next to him, his hand on your thigh whilst you both hum along to the shared playlist you’d both created. However, on this particular journey Harry found himself alone with you staring at him through the phone on Face Time.
You were away with work for a few days and out of town, meaning you couldn’t be there for some of Harry’s shows. However, that didn’t stop you both from talking to each other 24/7. Any spare moment you both had you’d be on FaceTime. If Harry went shopping he’d call you. If you went to the loo you’d call him. If you were reading in bed he’d want you to call so he could read with you.
FaceTime kept your relationship in the honeymoon phase - even 3 years after the honeymoon phase is supposedly over.
As Harry drove himself to the Forum he couldn’t help but be ecstatic when you answered first try on FaceTime.
“Heyyy, love.” He smiled at you, whilst stopping at a red light.
You were busy putting on your makeup for the day, so your phone was propped up on a vanity so Harry could see your head down to your waist. Your makeup was splayed out in front of you and you picked up some concealer to carry on with your routine.
“Hello, my favourite human.” You replied, cheerily grinning over your reply.
“Favourite human? Quite like the sound of that. Might even top fiancé.” Harry said, reaching to turn the radio off so he could only hear you. It would be rude of him to have anything drowning out the sound of your voice.
“Really?”
“Maybe not. Fiancé does just have a night ring to it, doesn’t it?” With one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand went to rub his fingers over the top of his lips where his moustache was growing in. As he did so, his engagement ring sat pretty and made you internally squeal at how you were the person attached to that ring.
“I think i’ll like husband better.” You answered honestly.
“It’s weird we’re both each others fiancés now, but when we get married you’ll be my wife and I’ll be your husband - like we’ll have different names for each other then.” Harry drove on green.
“You can still be my wife if you want. My little housewife.” You giggled at the thought.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me, in an apron, making dinner and doing the laundry.” He teased, unfortunately not catching your reaction since he was concentrating on the road.
“You do that already, H.” You laughed. “Are you off to the venue?”
“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah.” Harry was momentarily distracted as he had to turn onto a busy junction. His UK driving was a lot easier than LA, because of how short and simple the roads were in London. New York driving wasn’t even worth thinking about.
“And how was therapy?” You moved on to fixing your eyebrows, being prepared to stop and listen carefully to Harry if needed be.
“Yeah, it was good. She helped me through some of that tour stuff I was worried about.”
“About being away from family for so long?” You double checked.
“Yeah, yeah. She was trying to explain that if I’m happy doing what i’m doing then that’s all my family should want for me. Just happiness.”
“She’s right H. Your mum will be perfectly fine, as long as she knows that you’re happy - and that you’ll call often.”
“I try.” He said honestly.
“I know you do. I mean, when you’re not calling me that is.” You laughed, trying to lighten the situation with a bit of silly humour.
Harry got stuck in another traffic jam, meaning he would be late for rehearsals but he didn’t care because it meant more time on the phone with you. His favourite moments were spent with you, so he’d take ever extra second he could just to make new and happy memories.
“Have you had breakfast already?” Harry asked, in awe of watching you put on your makeup.
Harry was lucky to find someone that cared more about other people and the world than colouring in their skin and buying fake boobs. So your makeup routine didn’t in fact take too long to run through.
“Not yet, no.”
“Well, please have something before you leave, alright?” Harry asked, always concerned for you and your health whenever he wasn’t around to take care of you. He liked being the one to make you breakfasts in the morning, so often when you were apart from each other he’d believe you weren’t eating anything as good as what he makes - which is true, but you do also eat still.
“Okay, yes. I promise.” You rolled your eyes at him but gave him a smile, knowing he only meant well. “Have you eaten?”
“I actually am on my way to have lunch with Jeff now. He wants to run through Grammy stuff.” Harry explained.
“How are you feeling about that? The Grammy noms, I mean. Tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, tomorrow, yeah. Um, I’m feeling alright y’know? Like, I thought I’d feel a lot more dependent on them, but I think after last year I’m still feeling that high. Any nom would be great, but if I don’t get any then I also know that it is a great album and there was only one person I wanted to impress with it anyways.”
“Oh yeah? Who?” You asked, knowing the reply already.
“You.”
You smiled and shook your head. He was too cheesy sometimes, but it was no lie, or secret, that Harry’s House had been solely made for you. It was a love letter from Harry to you and a declaration to the world that Harry Styles was the happiest he’s ever been.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles boyfriend blurb#boyfriend harry fluff#boyfriendrry#fic rec harry styles#fic rec finelinevogue#harry styles fic#harry styles grammys
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not even titling dis cause I have no idea what I just wrote
strangers to friends with dazai osamu !! ft. atsushi !! reader works in a cafe <3 fem reader <33 NOT PROOFREAD cause m rlly lazy
that one weird guy you see on your way to your workplace when you’re driving your car was handsome up close. scarily and dangerously handsome.
damn. his short brown eyes and hair with a tall figure was enough to beg for his number. if you didn’t have self control, that is !
thankfully, your first impression of him was enough to keep you from asking his hand in marriage ! after all, who would want to get with a guy who jumps down a bridge in a attempt to commit suicide and does it everyday ?
“my name is dazai osamu, nice to meet you.”
oh god. even his voice is hot. really, you’re trying hard to focus at what he and his companion are saying and not to stare at his perfect face.
“so I see, uh- would you like to come in and inspect then ?” you managed to get the words out, smiling and opening the door to the cafe youre currently working in.
”of course ! thank you miss !” a young boy next to him bowed a bit. he was dressed weirdly as well. what’s his name again . . . ? atsushi nakajima, was it ? eh. it was fine, wasn’t like you’re gonna meet them again.
atsushi entered the cafe while dazai stood behind, clearly you didn’t know what he wanted to do so you opened the door a bit more. “mr. dazai ? would you like to come in ?”
“I was just thinking,” he leaned towards you, causing you to lean back, “would a beautiful lady like you commit double suicide with me-“ “dazai ! let’s just start the mission like the president said !” atsushi came back, quickly taking the arm of dazai. “sorry about that, he’s just . . .” “no, no, it’s okay. I understand.”
you didn’t.
they ended up leaving a bit later, dazai handing you a slip of paper with a contact on it. “you didn’t give me your answer, so ! call me if you would like to die together ~”
you accepted it with a awkward smile and a nod, clearly not knowing what to do. a part of you wanted to throw it away, but that one voice told you to keep it and call him. definitely not cause your love life is failing terribly like his suicide attempts !!!
you ended up following your impulsive thoughts.
you gulped when he answered your call. “hello ? who’s this ?” “uh- hello ? this is-“ “oh ! you’re that cafe lady ealier ! are you going to accept my proposal to die together ?” he sang, you heard the sounds of a tv and sheets rustling in the background as he shifted from his former laying position to a new, more comfortable one.
“I was just about to ask if you’re getting professional help.” shit. were you wrong though ? i mean- someone who attempts suicide can’t be mentally sane right ?
silence on the end of the call. you were just about to hang up from embarrassment before you heard him speak again. “nope ! are you gonna look one for me though ? professional help is really expensive and I can’t pay for luxuries like that.” “I literally work in a cafe. it’s minimum wage. you work as a detective. aren’t you supposed to receive much, much more ?” you scoffed, despite the conversation you were having, you had to admit that talking with him was . . . amusing, to say the least. fun, even.
“well, you can be my therapist. are you good at listening to people ? since you’re the one who suggested it after all ! okay ! let’s meet at your cafe ! I’ll arrive at six !” “wait I’m not-“ “see ya !” “. . . he hung up . . . “ you muttered to yourself in defeat.
oh well, his story can’t be that bad, right ?
he didn’t tell you anything in the end, only talking about his cases and about his fellow coworkers. it was entertaining though, you undoubtedly felt bad for atsushi and that guy he called kunikida.
“dazai ? it’s time for me to pack up and go, it’s like- nine now.” you got up from your chair, ready to escort him out. “really ? awh, I was having so much fun.” he whined, but got up from his chair all the same. “I’ll be back tomorrow ! see you belladonna !”
”see you.”
you waved, and closed the door to clean the cafe as you promised your boss. hmph. tomorrow huh ? you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling but failed horribly.
“see you tomorrow, dazai.” you said to yourself, looking out the window to watch him head back to his apartment.
you should really stop falling for mentally unstable men.
#EWWWW#DIS IS BAD#AGHHHHHH#GONNA GO KMS#SJJDJSKSKS#౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 📔 : novels !#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#bsd#bsd x fem eeader#Bsd x reader fluff#fluff
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