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papercorgiworld · 2 months

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Wear my name, be my girl

Theo, Blaise, Draco, Enzo and Mattheo

Bonus: Regulus Black (Marauders era)

An innocent laugh with the Weasley twins before the quidditch game gets someone jealous. When he intervenes it becomes clear that he wants you to wear his jacket and be his girl.

Thanks to this request!

I kinda processed the request wrong in my brain and instead of just writing for Theo and Mattheo, I wrote it for all of them. I wanted to write for Tom II Riddle but he doesn’t give me quidditch vibes, so I’m sorry no Tom. Also, not to sure about this piece, but I did have fun writing this. Anyways hopefully you have fun reading it.

For the Regulus Black bonus you can skip the intro.

It was a sunny, but chilly day. You breathe in the fresh air and head for the quidditch stadium. You arrived at the entrance and looked over to see if your friends were already at your regular spot, not noticing that a certain slytherin was staring at you. The slytherin team had just finished warming up when you arrived and he was about to get off his broom and leave his friends when the Weasley twins approached you.

“Early bird are we?” Fred sings as he sees you scanning the stands. You nod and smile, happy to have found someone you know. “Apparently too early, my friends aren’t here yet.” Fred chuckles and takes a step closer. “We’re here. We’ll keep you company.” George senses someone staring and looks over to the slytherins. “Yeaah. That might cost us the freaking game.” You and Fred look a bit confused at George’s words, so he points in the direction of the slytherins “Your boyfriend doesn’t seem too pleased with us.” You follow his finger and you can’t help but blush, before quickly looking away. “Not my boyfriend.” You chuckle. Unfortunately.

“Mind telling him that.” Fred jokes. “Hermoine told us he’s crazy obsessed with you always trying to impress you and stuff.” You shake your head at George’s words. “Don’t believe everything she says.” Fred smiles, noticing the slight blush on your face. “She says he’s answering questions during class faster than she can.” George says and Fred immediately follows. “And let’s not forget that whenever he flies near you he’s always doing cool tricks to get your attention.” George nods in agreement. “This game is going to be a curse, since he’s going to be even more arrogant and more eager to win.” Fred looks back to you. “And the way he’s staring daggers right now. That’s just unhealthy behavior.” You lick your lips and smile as the twins complain. “You guys really don’t like him?” Fred and George are baffled by your ridiculous question. “No, we don’t like him at all.” They both sing with humor as they state the obvious, making you laugh so hard you place a hand on your chest.

Theodore

You were too busy laughing to notice Theodore walk over to you, but the Weasley’s do see him and quickly say their goodbyes. You look up at Theodore when he stops next to you, but continues to stare at Fred and George with dead eyes. “Please, don’t curse them.” You chuckle and make Theo look at you. “What were you talking about? You know they’re just fools, no good knuckleheads.” You stare at him through your lashes, judging him with your eyes only. He sighs and throws his head to the side. “Maybe I’m overreacting but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” Your expression changes as you think for a moment. “What do you mean?” Theodore shrugs. “If you’re always nice to them they might think you like them.”

You frown for a second. “But I do like them.” Theodore rolls his eyes, a bit annoyed by how oblivious you were. “I mean like as in really really like them.” You chuckle at the suggestion. “Theo, we’re talking about Fred and George. We’re really just friends. And don’t tell me that guys and girls can’t be friends, because we’re friends.” His face goes blank and you struggle to figure out what he’s thinking. After a few seconds Theo presses his lips into a line. “Right, of course.” Theodore almost wants to reach for his chest as he feels his heart squeeze. Arm I stuck in the friendzone? How did I end up in the friendzone? He tries to shake the insecure feeling that slowly creeps up on him, but just then he notices Fred and George looking your way and snickering.

“Uhm, silly idea, but how about you wear this for good luck and to make sure that nobody bothers you again.” You watch him carefully take off his jacket and feel yourself get flustered at the idea of wearing a jacket with the name Nott on it. A nervous laugh rolls over your lips. “People will think something is going on between us. Earlier George already referred to you as my boyfriend.” You bite your lip softly after saying that last bit and Theodore can’t help but wonder if you would like him to be your boyfriend. He definitely wants to be yours. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirks when he notices you blushing at his words. He takes a step closer to you and watches your pretty face heat up a little more as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders.

You slip your arms in the sleeves and allow yourself to get comfortable. You scan Theo’s face in an attempt to figure out what he’s thinking about, but just then Mattheo, who was running late, enters the stadium. As he passes you he notices you’re wearing Theo’s jacket. “Finally won her over, Notty-boy? About time.” Mattheo jokes and wants to ruffle Theo’s hair, but Theodore angrily pushes his hand away and gives Mattheo a scowl. Mattheo just laughs and walks over to the rest of the team to get scolded by Draco for being late. Theo continues to stare at Mattheo, cursing his friend and avoiding you. You watch Theodore as he refuses to look at you and you’re forced to take a step closer to get his attention. “Just ignore him.” Theo says with a sigh and you smile before looking down at your fidgeting hands. When you look up after a few seconds you’ve made up your mind and shake your head. “No, I won’t ignore it. How about you explain what he meant by ‘finally won her over’.”

Your eyes don’t leave Theodore’s face and a nervous hand moves through his messy hair. His tongue moves over his lips as he searches for the right words. “Let’s just say, I wouldn’t mind if people thought you were my girlfriend, because I like that idea.” You take another step closer to him and look at him with teasing eyes. “You like that idea of…” A smile tugs on his lips as he notices you get closer and urge him to confess. “I like the idea of you being my girlfriend.” A ridiculously happy smile spreads on your lips. “I must say I like that idea as well.” You try to sound as calm as possible, teasing him a little more, but your excitement is obvious. A soft laugh escapes his lips and he quickly reaches for your face holding you for a passionate kiss. When you break the kiss, his lips stay close to yours as you drown in each other’s eyes. “You should go back to your team before Draco freaks out.” He ignores your words and brushes over your bottom lip to ask for another intense kiss. “Just a few more kisses for good luck.”

Blaise

When Blaise approaches you three with his serious demeanor all laughter goes quiet and the twins awkwardly say their goodbyes. As soon as they’re out of sight you turn towards Blaise, who’s frowning in the direction they left. “Don’t worry they’re just being friendly.” He huffs, before finally turning towards you. “Trust me, no guy is ever just friendly.” You frown, before a smirk starts to tug on your lips. “Oh, so every guy has an agenda?” Blaise nods, his eyes still dark with jealousy. “Yes.” He answers without thinking it through and still glancing over in the direction of Fred and George. “So what’s yours?” You ask cheekily, happy that he got caught in your little trap and you cross your arms as you stare up at him. Immediately he looks at you and realizes what he said. You notice a hint of nervousness glimmer in his eyes as he averts his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe not all guys. All Gryffindor guys. And Matt, he has like three agendas. And Enzo but his agenda is obvious, dude flirts with everyone.” Blaise tries to change the topic by ridiculing his friends. “But you don’t have a secret agenda?” You ask, not pleased with his answer. “Nope.” He tries to sound casual, but his brain is working on an excuse to leave, because he could feel himself heat up. You chuckle. “Good, because for a moment there I thought you were jealous.” Blaise forces an awkward laugh. “Nah. Why would I be?” You take a step closer and bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s not like we’re dating.” Blaise nods, but there’s a hint of disappointment in his eyes. We’re not dating. I’m very much aware. No need to shove it in my face.

“Anyways, I better get going. Cedric’s waiting for me.” You make up on the spot, hoping to confirm your suspicion. “Cedric?” Blaise’s voice raises a bit, making his displeasure obvious. You try to suppress your cheeky smile and nod seriously. Blaise quickly realizes that he has no reason to keep you away from Cedric, but he hates the idea of you spending the entire game cosying up next to that damn hufflepuff.

Luckily Blaise’s brain comes up with the perfect plan. “Yeah, uhm, but before you go- I was just up there and it gets pretty cold, so… here take this and uhm be sure to wear it so you stay warm.” You can no longer contain your smile as Blaise takes off his jacket and hands it to you. You hold the jacket and stare at the letters forming his name. “Isn’t it weird that I’m wearing this? I mean we’re just friends.” Thanks for the reminder, not necessary. “Friends can wear jackets with their friend’s name on them.” Blaise argues and you laugh softly as you put on his jacket. “I’ve never seen you wear Draco’s.” He loved you wearing his jacket and couldn’t help but stare, ignoring your counter argument. “Would it really be so bad if people thought we were more than friends?” Blaise suddenly blurs, still adoring you in his jacket. He needed to know, because he wanted you to be his girl and wear his name every game, and maybe even have his name one day.

You close the last bit of space between you two, so you’re now almost pressed against him. It’s then that he realizes his feelings might not be one sided. You meet his eyes and with a soft voice you speak up. “No, it wouldn’t-” You fall silent when Blaise tilts your chin up. “And would it be so bad if we were more than friends?” You gently shake your head no and he leans in to kiss you tenderly. “Took you a while.” You tease when the kiss breaks and he smiles. “Shut up.” He whispers, before kissing you again and wrapping his arms around him.

You both break the kiss when you hear the slytherin team cheer for Blaise and you. You look over to them and chuckle. Blaise pulls you against his chest. “How about you wear that jacket to every game and I go search for some new friends.” You laugh at the last bit and press your lips against his. “Don’t worry, if I can have you and your jacket, I’ll gladly make peace with your merry band of idiots.” Blaise leans in for another kiss, but is interrupted by Draco’s yelling. “Hey! You should be preparing for the game.” Blaise rolls your eyes. “Minus Draco.” You joke and Blaise raises his eyebrows in agreement. “One last kiss for good luck?”

Draco frowns in annoyance as you and Blaise kiss for what feels like minutes. “They’re gonna have to part at some point right?” Enzo joins Draco. “I don’t know if I got to kiss her, I wouldn’t need air either.”

Draco

You’re too busy laughing with the twins to notice an agitated Draco strut over to you. It’s only when he literally pushes them aside that you meet his eyes. “Can you fools stop bothering her.” He snaps, his voice poisonous, and you cross your arms looking at Draco with a stern look. “They were not bothering me.” Draco huffs, thinking he clearly knows better than you. “They are always bothering you, talking to you for no reason.” Fred and George snicker. “Like you.” Draco looks at them with disgust and wrinkles his nose, before turning his face towards you. “Walk with me.” He demands with a calm and surprisingly gentle voice.

As soon as you're a few steps away from the Weasleys you meet his eyes with a stern look. “What was that for?” You snap and Draco drops his head knowing that you hated it when he was unkind to your friends. “I was saving you. They were clearly flirting.” You shake your head. “There’s no need for you to be so protective of me.” Draco moves closer to you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes, I do. You’re sweet, innocent and ridiculously beautiful. If I don’t watch over you… you’ll end up with the wrong type of guy.” You soften, knowing that his concern for you is genuine. “I know you mean well, Draco, but can’t you be a little less aggressive.” Draco sighs, not really seeing any problem in pushing people and snapping at them. He adores your sweet face and calms down. “Maybe there is a less aggressive way to keep idiots away from you.” You look at him questioningly and Draco slips off his jacket.

”Here, wear my quidditch jacket.” He hands it to you and you take it, but then you start to worry. “Isn’t it weird if I wear it? It’s something normally only girlfriends do.” Draco watches you put on his jacket regardless of your own argument and he shrugs. “I’m not really a labels kind of guy, but if you want to be my girlfriend, fine.” Your mouth drops a little. “That’s not what I was saying.” Draco takes your hand and pulls you closer, placing his other hand on the small of your back. You blush as you're now pressed against him. You close your eyes and sigh. “Why can’t you just admit that you like me like a normal person.” Draco licks his lips and waits for you to look up at him, before speaking. “I’m in love with you, (y/n) (y/l/n). Wear my name, be my girl.” You feel stripped of all air as his honest words reach your heart and make it swell. “Happy now?” He whispers and you nod, cheeks burning with color.

“Love confessions aren’t free.” He whispers before slowly leaning in. You smile and meet his lips for a soft kiss. “I’ll wear your name and be your girl.” He stares at you and feels himself fall even more in love with you as you say those words. “Gods, how can one person be so perfect?” He pulls you into a tight embrace, feeling like he needs to keep you close and safe with him. “Cheer for me, will you?” Draco’s soft whisper makes him sound almost vulnerable. You lock his lips with yours, kissing him passionately in an attempt to show him how much you love him. “I’ll cheer for you like a crazy fangirl.” A bright smile forms on Draco’s lips and he leans in to leave one more soft peck on your lips.

Enzo

You see Enzo approach and smile at him, but you also notice something’s different about him. “Hello, fellas, how’s it going?” Lorenzo places his arms on Fred and George’s shoulders. Fred and George look at each other and then to you. “I take it this is our cue.” Fred laughs and they both disappear out of Enzo’s arms. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks innocently, like his little dominant move wasn’t obvious. You smile at him and softly shake your head. “You came off a little jealous I guess.” You try to explain and Enzo shrugs. “I’m not, you can have friends.” You laugh and close the distance between you two.

“Uhuh but you’ll always be best friend, Enz.” Enzo groans. “Yey me.” His words make you frown and he immediately feels embarrassed about his childlike behavior. “Sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just- I got my feelings all messed up after last night's kiss.” He had been crushing on you and at first he thought it was just a small thing that would pass, but it didn’t. Terrified to ruin his friendship with you and lose what little he had with you, he buried his feelings. However, after last night all of those suppressed feelings were back in his head and heart, stronger than ever.

You feel your heart sink as he refers to the stupid drunk kiss that happened last night during a ridiculous party game. You had banished that memory to the back of your head, not allowing your feelings of love to ruin your friendship. “You said it was just a silly kiss.” Enzo clenches his jaw. “I know what I said.” You’re surprised by his harsh tone, this was a rare part of Enzo that almost never surfaced. You take a step closer to him and place your hands on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me that some stupid kiss ruined our friendship?” Lorenzo sighs. “No, I did that long before last night.” Your eyebrows knit together as you don’t know what he’s talking about. Enzo shuts his eyes and presses his lips into a line before sighing. “I’ve loved you since forever and… not being with you it’s eating me up (y/n). Please don’t hate me for this, but if I can’t have you, then I can’t be your friend.”

There’s so much sadness in his voice it almost breaks your heart. When you don’t immediately react Enzo moves away, but your hands on his shoulders won’t lead him and you pull him closer. “I know exactly what-” Enzo shakes his head. “No, you don’t.” You laugh. “Yes! Yes, I do, Enzo Berkshire! Because I’ve been in love with you since forever!” It takes a moment for him to process, but when his eyes go wide you see his eyes light up again. The next moment his lips crash against yours for a long and intense kiss, while his arms wrap around you tightly, hugging you like only Enzo can. When he breaks the kiss his head still rests against yours. “Can I ask you for a silly little thing?” He whispers with playful eyes. You nod and Lorenzo lets go of you to take off his jacket. “Wear this, for me. For good luck… and maybe also to make sure those Gryffindor’s know that you’re off the market.”

You turn around and Enzo helps you slip on his jacket. His body fills with pride as he sees you wear his name. “I’ll wear it with pride.” You say and tug him by his shirt to demand another kiss. His hand holds your head, fingers entangled in your hair as his lips passionately move over yours. “I’m winning this game for you.” He whispers, before leaving to join his team.

Mattheo

You were too busy laughing at Mattheo’s expense to notice him walk over. With a foul smile and head held high he looks at the twins. “What are we laughing about?” His voice is calm, but he’s radiating fury. However, Fred can’t resist fuelling him especially with the Gryffindor - Slytherin game starting in half an hour. “You.” Fred says bluntly and Mattheo instantly steps in between you and the twins. Dark eyes focused on Fred. “What’s so funny about me?” Fred’s about to open his mouth when George decides to be the wiser one and slings his arm around his brother. “Time for one quick last round around the stadium, I think.” Coming to George’s aid you place a hand on Mattheo’s biceps, urging him to turn away from Fred and face you.

“They’re absolute tossers.” Mattheo snaps at you when he finally turns away from Fred. You laugh at his frustration. “They’re funny, though.” Your little joke doesn’t sit well with him. Part of him grew worried that maybe you had a thing for one of the twins. “Are you going to cheer them on or me?” He asks with an annoyed tone and piercing eyes, but as soon as he notices you take a step back he softens. He hated himself for getting so jealous and being so possessive of a girl that wasn’t even his. Instinctively his hand reaches for your arm, softly brushing it as a gentle way of asking you to not move away from him. “I- I didn’t mean to- I- I just thought they were flirting or something.” He chuckles, partly confessing he was jealous. He feels himself get flustered as you study him. You had never seen him behave like this, but he quickly regained his confident composure. “Shall I fly you to your spot in the stands?” He offers in an attempt to distract you from his confession.

But you’re not letting him get away this easy. “So what if they were flirting with me, Riddle? Is that a crime? Because last time I checked I was still single so-” Your teasing his cut short when Mattheo snorts, making you raise your eyebrows. He slightly clenches his jaw, cursing himself for not being able to control himself and allowing his arrogance to have the upper hand. “So what… you want those guys to flirt with you?” His eyes focus on yours. “They weren’t flirting and if they were there’s no reason for you to get all snappy about it.” You retort, crossing your arms. In his mind you were already his and he hated that you kept on reminding him that in reality you weren’t his at all. When you notice his jaw clench, you roll your eyes and remind him once more of the one thing he can’t stand hearing. “Matt, you don’t need to worry about me, I’m not your girlfriend.”

Okay, now you've done it. You notice a flicker in his eyes and then he quickly reaches for your arm, moving you behind the stands so you’re alone. “Wha-?” He pushes you against the wooden wall of the stadium and cups your cheek. “You should be my girlfriend.” His lips crash into yours forcefully and he pushes himself against you. It takes a moment, but you can’t resist the intensity of his kiss and your hand sneaks up to his curls as you part your lips and kiss back. When he breaks the kiss he stays close to you and studies you while you press your lips into a line, realizing how quickly you kissed him back. You feel your cheeks heat up as you notice the smug smile appear on Mattheo’s lips. His fingers entangle with your hair as he leans in for another kiss, this time softer but still intense.

When he breaks the kiss, his eyes glimmer with pride and his smirk frustrates you. “I think you should wear this.” He says, taking a step back and taking off his jacket. “You know, since you’re my girlfriend now.” You roll your eyes, but nevertheless turn around so he can wrap it around you. He pulls you with your back against his chest, strong arms wrapped around you, and traces your neck with sweet kisses. “Can I now fly you to the stands? I know your regular spot.”

Having you close against him as he flies around, making sure everyone has seen you with him while wearing his green jacket with his name on, was an unnecessary ego boost. He makes sure you land safely on your feet next to your friends. “Don’t be too insufferable.” You warn him and a smug smile tugs on his lips. “Can’t make any promises.” You go stand on your tiptoes. “If you promise to behave, I’ll kiss you now that everyone’s watching.” You swear you saw little lights in his eyes at your suggestion.

Bonus Regulus Black

Sirius seriously needed to keep his hands to himself, Regulus was fuming as he watched his brother brush a strand of hair out of your face. He had not been desperately trying to impress you for his idiot brother to swoop in and charm you with one decent gesture. “Not that you have any value to the Gryffindor team, but shouldn’t you get ready for the game.” Regulus walks over to stand by your side with his broom still in hand, staring his brother down with disdain.

Sirius grins at his brother’s obvious jealousy. “Be careful brother, your true colors are showing.” Regulus clenches his jaw and averts his eyes feeling a little caught, but thankfully his grinning fool of a brother leaves. When he looks over at you, you’re already smiling at him. “That was a bit harsh of you. Nervous for the game?” You ask and he’s glad you offer him an excuse for his behavior. “Yes, definitely the game. Though, I’m confident we’re gonna put Gryffindor to shame.” A smug smirk tugs on his lips and you laugh at his confidence, but he immediately gets a little serious. “You know, my brother’s not a bad guy, but he can be a bit… uhm- invasive at times. So if he’s ever too much, let me know.” You smile and nod softly, not going to argue with a worried Regulus. “Promise?” Regulus watches you carefully, waiting for you to make the promise. You take a step closer to him and lock your eyes with his. “Promise.”

Just as he seems to be reassured enough to turn around and go back to his team, he notices a few guys glance over at you. He sighs and turns back around to you with a face filled with annoyance. Frustrated, he licks his lips as his eyes dart around. “Why are you so tense?” You ask genuinely worried and you reach for arms, gently squeezing them to calm him. “You really are too precious to leave unchaperoned.” He breathes and you laugh at his choice of words. He sighs, but then a genius idea pops up in his head. “Here, wear this.” He sets his broom aside for a moment and lets his slytherin training jacket slide off his shoulders. When he hands it to you look at it with confused eyes. “It’s rather chilly today.” Regulus explains, but feels himself heat up. Maybe his attempt to claim you and protect you from others was a bit too obvious. You tilt your head and stare at his blushing cheeks, but you refuse to take his jacket since you’re a bit annoyed with his inability to come clean about his feelings.

He notices that you’re being a bit difficult about it and sighs, getting a little flustered. “Just do me a favor and wear it.” You shake your head in amusement. “Fine, if you'll do me a favor as well.” You reach for the jacket and he nods, feeling a bit more confident now that you’re complying. You slip the jacket on and enjoy the warmth of it and Regulus’ scent, before taking a step closer to him so there’s no space left between you two. “Kiss me.” You demand and his eyes widen, not believing that that’s the favor you’re asking for. Clearly you had seen through his subtle flirting and obvious jealousy of the past months. No denying it now, time to step up. He leans in, simultaneously wrapping an arm around, and brushes your lips before kissing you tenderly. You rest your hands on his shoulders and allow him to pull you against him as he intensifies the kiss. Slowly you break the kiss, but your eyes still linger on his as you enjoy being in his arms. “Be careful up there.” You whisper and it’s then that Regulus realizes exactly how perfect of a girlfriend you’re going to be. He nods and moves away from you, unable to hide smile. He takes his broom and headds back towards his grinning teammates.

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lazerswordweilder · 1 month

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There’s a prompt I’ve heard from at least two seperate people, Danny gets adopted by the Waynes as a meta and the power suppression cuff hurts.

Okay, I need to sleep so let’s do this fast. No matter what anyone at Wayne Manor did, all Danny would do for the first day would be trying to get the cuff off, no one understood why, by the second day they got worried, a civilian shouldn’t go this long without food.

By the third day Danny realises he’s going to have a serious problem if he doesn’t act soon, he gets Bruces attention (this is the first ‘sane’ thing he’s done since he arrived so Bruce agrees to talk happily). Bruce doesn’t expect Danny to make him swear that nothing is recording this, that no one will hear what Danny says here, Bruce is concerned but not normal enough to see too much of an issue in this, so he agrees. Danny says this ‘I’m not human. I’m pretending to be a meta because the genocide of my entire species is legal and I’m too weak to fight the hunters right now.’ that alone was enough for Bruce to freak out, Danny really didn’t have to keep talking ‘My powers don’t work anywhere near the way a metas would, I don’t know why the cuff is working but you need to get it off. The powers are a part of me, they’re connected to my core, and the cuffs are hurting my core. I’ll die for good if you keep this on, it’s luck I’ve survived this long with the cuff on.’ Bruce decided to just unlock the cuff at this point, and immediately realised Danny was right.

For the first time that feral panic in his eyes was gone, he floated into the air, legs morphing into a tail, and immediately looks so much more comfortable than he had- again since Bruce had met him. He looked healthier and he seemed to- no, he was glowing. He took a deep breath in and the air he breathed out was icy and cold, Bruce had been told Dannt seemed to have some ice powers. The powers were obviously part of him.

‘First things first, legal genocide of your entire species? Was that a lie to get me to take the cuff off?’ Bruce asked hopefully, Danny actually laughed, revealing fangs

‘I wish- I’d love that to be true.’ Danny said

For just a slip second something else flashed across Dannys face, pain and sadness, like a king carrying his kingdom, like a soldier carrying his fallen armies legacy.

‘Could you stop it?’ Danny asked, Bruce nodded quickly

‘I will stop it.’ Bruce promised, Danny relaxed, he sighed and he looked just a little lighter

‘They’re safe.’ he whispered, happiness and relief obvious on his face ‘My friad, my haunt, my kingdom.’ Danny muttered

‘Fraid? Haunt? Kingdom?’ Bruce asked

‘Oh, just our species terminology, the closest translations would be family and territory.’ Danny said

‘What about kingdom?’ Bruce asked

‘What? No I meant the normal definition for that, I became king after the whole Pariah incident last year.’ Danny said it casually, in a tone Bruce knew well, the classic: this is not normal and I’m deeply traumatised about it, let’s pretend it’s no big deal.

#lazerswordweilder writes #dpxdc

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andersonlore · 4 days

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Abbys reaction to you telling her how hot she is while making out: "you're so hot I can't stand it it drives me crazy." - maybe the first time or one of the first times

all my love is free | abby anderson

tags: eighteen+, lesbians obsessed with each other, had to post during lesbian visibilty week like c'mon???, just a big bag of fluff packaged with light steam, abby being a nervous goofball, sfw with suggestive themes.

an. sorry i kind of disappeared with posts. new collab is taking over my brain. but wanted to at least post something. can't wait for y'all to get a taste. until then, i'll be finishing the requests in my inbox (hopefully). with all the love, ray.

the end of your first date with abby marks a colossal milestone, especially for the two of you. the moment almost seemed monumental. taking one year of abby’s pining, six months of flirting and six months of tiptoeing while you were with someone else. respectfully, waiting until a month after the breakup, she asks you out.

unimaginable expectations abby had before going into tonight, but all she had to offer it seems was her nerves. god, she was acting like a dumb, mumbling, dork tonight. saying the first thought coming to mind, but it makes you laugh. when abby nearly eats it on the sidewalk, tripping over a crack of grout in the cement. your soft angelic voice taking her out for a moment, the only thing centering her from having a meltdown.

“baby, are you alright? be careful, honey.” there it is, angelic. “wouldn’t want you to fall.” the first pet names hurled her way by you, making her heartbeat faster than she could keep up with. you cut her off at her knees, ensuring you are the only person she could ever want.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

it’s pretty obvious who was in control the entire night. if the two of you are friends, this night has a year of expectations, hopes, goals to meet and abby felt like she was failing. deeply.

as she walks you up to the front door, she knows the only thing she accomplished was letting you down. nothing went the way she thought it was going to. everything felt off. worst of all, your silence snuffs her out, completely.

you grab her hands, pulling her up the stairs with you. the collar feels too hot, tense, off. delicate fingers playing with the collar before you unclasp the buttons, keeping down before you move to her chest, placing your hand on abby’s inconsistent heartbeat.

“can i? s’tense, need you to loosen up for me. alright?” abby nods, accepting you can read her like the back of your hand. she just doesn’t want you to stop touching her. “get out of this head of yours. s’just me and you, no one else.” your nimble fingers pop the first three buttons, revealing her freckled chest, dipping into her sternum, giving you a delicious preview. she takes a deep breath, and you believe it’s the first one she’s allowed herself since she showed up with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin tonight. i just— it’s you. y’know? i’ve never wanted someone like this. been friends for ages and this is just everything. you are everything. i’ll never live with myself if i let you slip through my fingers.” her heartbeat calms under your touch the longer abby speaks, bringing a warmness to your own. “don’t worry about all of it. you’re not going to. i won’t let you.”

“okay.” abby says as she gets lost in the light in your eyes. the fire visible behind yours. the way she’s looking at you? fuck. unimaginable desire — all for you. it almost seems too good to be true. like you don’t deserve it. waiting for the pin to drop, all the misery drowning you with it. “did you have a good time tonight?”

“yes baby, i did.” you smirk as she inches forward, closing you into your front door. back pressed against it, her small breasts pressed to your chest, her free hand extended, next to your head as it lays flat on the door.

“s’good. wouldn’t want to kiss you if the date was bad.” all the confidence is back. the abby who flirted with you shamelessly for months on end. knowing you’re happy is enough for her. it’s all she needs to know to let the loser in her fall to ashes. but you taking the reins for a moment, does something so visceral inside her. she nearly doesn’t know how to act until her instincts kick in.

she’ll satisfy you — just in the way she knows how.

“what are y—” abby pressed her body weight into you, strong hips pinning you against the door using one of her hands to pin both of yours above your head. you’re whimpering, signaling your shock but the whine omitting from your lips tells abby your pussy is shocked. soaked.

“doing what i should have done months ago.” her pink plump lips meet yours, taking complete control over you. but you welcome it with open arms. she grunts in your mouth causing you to gasp as abby’s tongue enters your mouth. massaging it with yours in a swift battle for dominance.

it’s too much but also not enough. you’re grinding against her, your crotch kissing hers as you lift a leg, wrapping it around her waist. she continues kissing you like her entire life depends on it. not letting you feel anything but her. she’ll be your everything and you’re not leaving until you understand it just as much as her. “abs—” you mumble in her mouth, abby relinquishes the tight grip on her hands.

immediately your hands are woven in her hair. tugging at the golden hair, as you try to pull her closer to you, if it was even possible. but the two of you have to come up for air, abby the first one to break as she chuckles at both of your heaving chests.

“fuck, you’re so hot, baby. can’t stand it.” you peck her lips softly. admiring how puffy and swollen they look from her ministrations. god, you want her to devour you once again. “‘m, drives me crazy.” you admit, taking in the intoxicating smirk on her face. you’re not made into a fumbling mess easily. the both of you know it. that’s how abby knows it in her bones, she has you. fuck, she can’t ever imagine letting go.

#hi again #my abby lovers !!!#hope you like this one :')#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x poc #wlw x reader #tlou x reader #lesbian #wlw post

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inzaynety · 2 months

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surprise? ⤫

➢ summary: no one expected yuuta to have a girlfriend

➢ content: yuuta x fem!reader; 2535 words; fluff; yuuta’s ability to pull girls is questioned 😪; sukuna hitting on you too ig

➢ notes: this is a rewrite from my old blog and it’s pretty refreshing to do one ngl, hopefully this reads a little better

Nobara sits leisurely on the lounge room’s couch with her fellow first years, watching as the second years huddle over a puzzle one had dug up from underneath their bed. At first she was staring into nothing thinking about when her next shopping trip would be and how she would drag the other two to carry her bags (they would go anyway, they had no choice when it came to her), but somehow her eyes land on the one upperclassman she doesn’t know all that much about.

Sure, she’s spent time with Toge, Panda, and of course Maki, but she had only known Yuuta for a few weeks after his return to Tokyo Jujutsu High. Nobara likes to watch and observe people, and there was something about him that sort of bugged her.

The reason? No clue.

“Careful. Think too hard and you’ll get hurt,” Megumi comments while Itadori snickers, Nobara glaring at the both of them without missing a beat.

“Shut up. I was wondering if you guys think Okkotsu-senpai’s attractive.” The two boys look at her and then each other in confusion. She realizes that they’re probably not the best people to ask, their obvious and painful pining in the way of everything else, but objectively speaking she would try to gauge Okkotsu’s status. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, quite easy on the eyes, but he was a little awkward.

“Why’re you thinking about that?” Itadori’s tone isn’t condescending–just questioning. He too had some reservations about the upperclassman, considering their first meeting to not be so ideal. His complete 180 in personality did cause a bit of whiplash.

“Not sure, I mean, look at him.” The three direct their eyes to the special grade and he’s sitting in the middle of the others as they argue over the missing pieces that happened to disappear when nearing the end of the puzzle. He isn’t saying anything and only laughing along as his friends are exasperated with each other. His flustered face also seems to be his brand as that’s all Nobara’s been seeing.

Heck, the other day they bumped into each other and he was stuttering out apologies when they barely brushed shoulders. A single paper from her arms fell on the floor from the wind let in by the open window.

“He has no game. I’m betting on that right now.”

“Okay, I bet he does!” Itadori always bet on the opposite.

“You’re gonna lose, loser!”

“Nuh-uh, bigger loser!”

As Nobara and Itadori start their bickering yet again, Fushiguro thinks back to his morning. He could have slept in.

–

The first and second years are near the track continuing their training to finish off the day, but they got distracted and now Toge and Itadori were being swung in a circle by Panda.

“Maki-sannn,” Nobara drawls, leaning on the upperclassman as they sit on the steps watching the others. Maki hums in acknowledgement. “Do you know if Okkotsu-senpai has a girlfriend?” The older girl snorts and doesn’t hide her disbelief at her question.

“Of course not. Have you seen the guy?”

“But I thought Inumaki-senpai said you thought he was–”

“That was a stupid question. He asked a stupid question.”

Nobara leaves it at that and now it has Maki thinking about it.

–

Maki doesn’t find herself walking around the school that often if not for entering and exiting the school with Toge and Panda, or heading towards the track for training. But the latter didn’t need to go as far as the front gates. Honestly, it was a nice day and it would have been a waste to sit around inside even if it were just a few minutes.

Though, she wasn’t expecting to see anyone else.

Gojo would have told them if a representative of the higher ups, or the higher ups themselves, would show up just so he could inform them to say Gojo-sensei’s not here or Sensei said to leave him alone. He found childish pride in the fact that his students could be the ones to stop those old geezers from interfering with his daily life, but it was at their expense so it usually ends with He’s just outside the door or Sensei! Get out from under the table!

But you didn’t look like them. If anything, Maki could deduce you were probably around her age but not before her eyes almost bulged out of her sockets upon registering who exactly it was she was looking at. While she didn’t know who you were, she didn’t mind it at that exact moment. One for a second though.

Your expression was cold and stoic, not unlike their very own Fushiguro, but when your eyes meet hers, it’s replaced with a youthful cheerfulness that Maki swore she needed to cover her eyes from the brightness.

“Hello,” you wave from the entrance. You thought it would have been a little rude to step in and walk around without a clue of where to go, so you opted for standing by while waiting for someone to arrive. In hindsight, maybe a surprise visit wasn’t the best idea.

Your greeting was nice enough, if not a little nervous from the way you looked her up and down. Though, she wouldn’t deny that she gave you another once over herself. Her gaze was intense but it was hard to distinguish it from judging or curiosity. To save the awkwardness and soon to come silence, you introduce yourself and state that you were looking for someone.

“A student? Or Gojo?” You laugh a little at the mention of the older special grade. He was quite a handful for every sorcerer who ever came across him. Maki’s eyes narrow and you’re a bit intimidated.

“I’m looking for–”

“Kugisaki, come back! I need that!” Maki groans at the sound of the rowdy first years and whips her head over to see Nobara running with one of Itadori’s shoes, waving it in the air as she spewed out complaints of her own.

“You lost my limited edition faux fur gloves! I’m not giving this back until you can find it!”

Maki gestures for you to follow her and you oblige while watching the two have their fun. You could tell she wasn’t all that annoyed by them but you assumed it must be to keep up appearances.

“Reminds me of the first years back at my school,” you laugh and that’s when your walking companion starts asking you a few questions.

On the short walk from the front to the building, she was able to get your name and occupation. It turned out that you were attending another school besides the one in Kyoto, which explained why you hadn’t been there for the exchange events, and were in the process of promoting another grade up. You don’t miss how her eyes dart back and forth from in front of her to your face.

Anyone would have been able to say that you were attractive, you were never short of getting compliments when going out, and maybe she’s spent too much time with her teacher. He prided himself in his looks and while you were in the same boat, maybe she was just glad you didn’t flaunt it. It was refreshing and maybe it was alright to sneak a few glances here and there.

When you finally reach the main building she’s forgotten the most important question you got interrupted in answering.

“By the way, who was it you were looking for again–”

“You’re an idiot!”

“I already told you I was sorry!” It was the two again and this time they came barreling from the other entrance from where you and Maki came from. The short haired girl had her arm wrapped around the boy’s throat, rubbing the top of his head vigorously with her fist.

You eye Maki who still didn’t look amused and only then did you notice there were more students in the room and they were staring right at you. Raising a hand you wave at them…and a panda. It seemed they meant to welcome back their classmate but were surprised to see you accompanying her. Turning back to the scene in front of you, it was suddenly silent and you were the center of attention.

“So Maki,” the panda says, “who’s your new friend? Hi, I’m Panda.” Fitting.

Introducing yourself, you receive a monotime hello in response. However, their town doesn’t match their expressions; their attention is definitely not on something, or someone, else. Maki notices this and pinches the bridge of her nose before pointing at everyone.

“Emo’s Megumi, pinky’s Itadori, Nobara, and Toge.” There’s a quiet murmur of emo and pinky from their respective parties. Your eyes land on the most familiar one in the room, giving a kind smile and wave to Inumaki who seems to have kept his attention on you.

“Kombu.” He waves back and makes a motion to jab a finger down the hallway, giving you a message everyone else was unsure of. You nod in response after figuring it.

“You guys know each other?” Itadori speaks up as he just manages to get out of Nobara’s hold.

“Was it Toge you were looking for–” Maki is interrupted when Nobara stalks up to you. Her expression is unreadable but there is an undeniable sparkle in her eyes.

“Hi–”

“You’re very pretty, did you know that?” She says out of the blue and it was so sudden you couldn’t help but feel warm in your face.

“Thank you,” you say and she seemed pleased with the response. Again, probably thankful you were full of yourself like a certain blue-eyed, white-haired man. “ I hope you guys don’t mind if I wait here?” It’s more of a question to make sure you’re not pressuring them. A stranger coming in out of nowhere is strange, but the students don’t seem to be opposed to it from their quick responses.

“No, no!”

“Definitely not!”

“Yeah, you can stay.”

“We still don’t know who she’s waiting for. But yeah”

“Shake.”

Within seconds, you’re swept onto the couch and in between the first duo you saw. They’re asking you just general questions, Panda, Nobara, and Toge, even though he already knows you, listening with their full attention. Even Fushiguro’s paying less and less attention to his phone and subtly looking over at you at periodic intervals.

All is well and good; you feel like you’re making more new friends, but a new question pops up: “Hey, you single?” Everyone stops and heads turn to Itadori who looks just as shocked as they do. He’s already one step ahead though, a hand slapped over his cheek to cover the mouth that had popped out.

You stare confused for a moment before snapping your fingers. “You’re the Sukuna guy!” You inwardly recoil from your choice of words but Itadori doesn’t look at all bothered by them. In fact, he’s giddy that you know who he is even if it’s in a not-so-favorable-way. It is a little concerning though when he places his hand down and there’s a smirk on the mouth on his cheek, mouthing some words you would rather not remember.

“Okay,” Maki stands up and directs her attention right at you, “before I can get interrupted again,” her glare is directed particularly at the first years. Megumi mutters a what did I do under his breath but is shut up by her look, “who’s the person you’re looking for?”

“Oh!” You beam upon remembering the purpose for your visit. “I’m visiting–Yuu!” You jump up from your spot upon seeing a familiar figure walking down the hall. You waste no time in throwing yourself in his arms when he passes the doorway and he laughs, wrapping them around you to bring you into a tighter hug. You stay like that for a bit, matching bright smiles on both of your faces.

“I missed you, angel,” He says fondly and you smile up at him.

“What the hell?” It’s only then you both remember the audience and Yutta freezes, turning his head slowly to catch their faces. Itadori (and Sukuna), Nobara, and Panda have their jaws to the floor while Maki and Megumi are conflicted on whether to feel surprised or not.

Only then does Maki remember Nobara’s question from earlier in the week.

The only one not shocked is Inumaki who was sitting back on the couch with his arms crossed. He nods his head to gesture to his friend to explain. “Tuna mayo.” The others stare at him.

“You knew?” He nods. He did want to poke fun and try not to reveal the truth after hearing around that Yuuta could in no way get a girl. He wanted to laugh and reveal it in a note or something but everyone’s surprise was too good to pass up. It was only a few months ago that his close friend introduced you, but that didn’t mean his initial surprise waned. Sometimes he thinks it’s a joke until Yuuta gets a text from you.

“Mentaiko.”

“Ah,” Yuuta finally speaks up, “she’s my girlfriend?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” He flinches at the voices of Maki and Nobara, but to be fair, everyone else in the room was more or less wanting to know how the hell he managed to get someone like you.

“No offense, Okkotsu-senpai,” Nobara starts, pointing at him, “but she’s gorgeous. How?”

“W-What do you mean how?” He was indeed a little offended by the disbelief he sees and from his side you let out a laugh in amusement at the whole situation. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t the most bold or confrontational outside of sorcery settings, he was a bit timid and shy but he always meant well. Even now his hold on you hasn’t left, hands resting on your waist as more comments of confusion dart out from his friends.

You take it upon yourself to hold one of his hands and bring it up to your face, kissing his palm. “Because he’s Yuuta.” It’s pretty cheesy but the way you look at him which has the others mostly putting to rest their questions. Yuuta’s face reddens before he takes a hold of that same hand you grasped him with, pulling you along to his room.

“It was nice meeting you all!” You call back, their presence slowly drowned out by the both of you, all unintentionally as you catch him up on the promotion and whatever else. Yuuta just likes hearing you talk.

The others could do nothing but wave in your direction as you went.

–

Bonus:

After retreating to his room, the rest sat there without uttering a word, mindlessly playing cards as they gathered their thoughts. They’re only brought out of them when footsteps are heard down the other hall and come to a stop in the room.

“What’s going on here?”

“Sensei,” Itadori calls out, “did you know that Okkotsu-senpai has a girlfriend?”

“She was hot.” He slaps his cheek again.

From the look on Gojo’s face, he didn’t. And none of them wasted the opportunity to follow him as he made it a mission to knock down Yuuta’s door to meet you too.

#okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk fics #jjk scenarios #okkotsu yuuta #fics

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ohnococo · 4 months

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Dating Co-Worker Hiromi Higuruma HCs

(A follow up to these headcanons. Your co-worker Hiromi Higuruma has been pining for you, and has been kind of a pervert about it. That's definitely still the case now that you're actually dating.)

Hiromi Higuruma who feels guilty about the whole thing because you can’t be dating co-workers… like you literally can’t. It’s against company policy and Jesus fucking Christ neither of you need the stress of this and if you got caught he would feel like it was his fault forever.

Hiromi Higuruma who, when you decide to see each other, reiterates (despite not needing to) that you can’t risk doing anything at work that might indicate you’re dating.

Hiromi Higuruma who seems to forget that constantly when you’re sitting next to each other in meetings and he takes chances to brush his fingers against yours under the table.

Hiromi Higuruma who is very bad at stopping himself from giving you that “sappy sleepy Sunday morning I’m in love” smile over lunch with the rest of your co-workers.

Hiromi Higuruma who basically forgets to not look at you like you’re the only two people in the room about ten times a day. When you speak he looks at you like you’re only talking to him, when you make a joke he laughs like you’re on a date. And… it’s really only slightly more obvious than when you hadn’t been dating, to be honest. You warn him about it in private but it would probably be more odd to your co-workers if he suddenly stopped acting like this.

NSFW/18+ ONLY UNDER THE CUT

Hiromi Higuruma who still can’t handle how much he wants you during the work day even though he literally just has to wait until after work hours when you’re behind closed doors. He doesn’t even care how pathetic he sounds in his texts begging you to “please please please send me a pic of your panties” his heart will be racing when he sees you going to the bathroom and whatever he’s doing is paused while he waits to hopefully get a text from you of you partially undressed.

Hiromi Higuruma who can’t see you at the copier without thinking of how much he’d love to fill your panties with his cum in the middle of the day.

Hiromi Higuruma who randomly texts you the filthiest string of consciousness about how bad he wants to cum down your throat or wants to fuck you until you can’t remember your name or have you choking him with both of your pretty hands while he fucks up into you. You’ll glance at him across the office and he honest to god looks fucking stressed about how bad he wants to fuck you.

Hiromi Higuruma who, after litigation goes to absolute shit in a case he’s been stressing over for ages, takes you into the bathroom on the creepy abandoned floor that's closed for refurbishments due to damp and fucks you til you have to make an excuse for disappearing in middle of the day. There’s no way you’ll be able to make yourself look presentable within a reasonable timeframe and it becomes clear you’ll be the one having to hold firm on the “no fooling around in the office” rule after that. He just gets a little too rowdy once he has his hands on you.

Hiromi Higuruma who, after a week of no pics during the work day, no responses to his dirty texts, and not even a quick kiss in the stairwell, pulls you into the supply closet and actually gets on his hands and knees begging for you to please suck his cock. (You're beginning to think there's something about fooling around in the office that makes him even more depraved than usual).

Hiromi Higuruma who, when you tell him absolutely fucking not because he’ll leave you looking a complete mess, when switches to begging you to let him go down on you instead. He’s smart, and saw the look in your eyes when he’d first gotten down on his knees for you, and opts to stay that way while he makes you cum with his mouth. You can’t even be mad when he starts stroking himself fast and rough while he does it, the cum all over his trousers and shirt is his problem, not yours.

Hiromi Higuruma who, despite the added stress of getting caught, actually seems way more happy and productive at work because he’s comparatively released a lot of the previous stressors he had. He no longer has to feel so bad about jerking off to innocent pictures of you, cumming even harder when he unloads all over your face on the screen. He no longer has to feel bad over the time he stole your (clean) panties to spend a week using to jerk off until you returned from vacation. He no longer has to feel bad over the time he came over to yours to get some work done and excused himself to go to the bathroom and steal your (dirty) panties out of your hamper and pocketed them. And he definitely no longer has to feel bad over the second time you let him house sit and he spent days in your bed masturbating, sucking on your sex toys, feeling elated with what he thought would be the closest he got to doing all the filthy things he couldn’t stop thinking of doing with you. It was all okay because you did actually like him in the end, right?

#my writing #hiromi x reader #higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk hcs #higuruma hiromi #higuruma #minors blocked on sight

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 6 months

Note

Could I just like make a request about the jojos having a darling who does literally everything to stay away. Like they come up with the dumbest excuses or do dumb stuff just to stay away

woot woot, this’ll be my first thing with Jodio hopefully I can write him correctly before doing headcanons. Sort of more of a reaction thingy but hope it satisfies, since I’m trying to get back into a groove of things.

Jonathan

His heart flutters hearing you stumble on excuses, he can tell you’re lying but he doesn’t mention this. Though he finds it in your best interest to have someone looking out for you, in the end. Whatever little thing you busy yourself with, he finds a way to come around. Sometimes it just happens to align with his father’s request to fetch something. Just maybe he twists things around to something you like, even if it only keeps you around for a few extra seconds.

Joseph

The biggest trickster there is, it’s near impossible to try and get out of anything with Joseph. “Mmm, you already used that one” He gives you a quick wink. He knows where you hang out mostly, and can easily tell if you’re not the “ruffian” type. If you’re a bit snarky yourself, he does his best to make you slip up. Or if he’s really determined waste enough time that you don’t have to bother with that other “task” you had to do.

Jotaro

Blunt. To put it lightly, Yare Yare leaves his lips as soon as you stumble through an excuse. He knows how efficiently you may or may not get things done. Anything you’re usually not fond of makes him raise an eyebrow (immediate suspicion if it’s possibly just to impress some other person). It almost feels like an interrogation when he asks the sudden interest in whatever you spilled out. Forget trying to do anything dumb, fib or otherwise he’s not letting you do it. Even if you do manage to slip off and go out on your own, Jotaro is around somewhere.

Josuke

Similar to Joseph he’s pretty on top of silly excuses, because he’s probably made up a thing or two himself. The best course of action for him is making up an excuse himself to get into whatever you made up on the fly. If you ask, he tells you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Even if it’s obvious he’s lying to you, he makes it nigh impossible to leave “hey that’s what you said you were doing”.

Giorno

He definitely knows the ins and outs about you, so lying won’t likely get you very far. Besides every little excuse you do make, he seems to always have a counter for. It’s almost freaky, if you don’t know how much Giorno negotiates. Though there’s times he let’s you go on the basis of a flimsy lie. Rest assured though something goes missing and it always leads back to him. Anything out of the ordinary for you is promptly taken care of, “That’s a rather interesting way to try to keep away from me” He’d tell you in a friendly tone.

Jolyne

Like her father she can be pretty blunt herself, even insists it’s not a great idea to stray too far. The little excuses you make are intriguing to her, but she counters with her own plans. Sometimes she’ll get you lipstick and see if you’ll wear it out later, depending on what you told her you were supposedly doing that day. Little runarounds with you keep her on her toes making sure you don’t run off. Simple things like getting you to spend extra time with her, with her own little excuses. Eventually there might be a time your handcuffed to her bed, for a day or two. “Don’t you ever get tired of making up stuff? It’d just be easier being here with me you know, I’ve got your back”

Johnny

He’s rather scary when you make up something on the fly to avoid him. His blue eyes bore into your soul, unless he uses spin there’s usually nothing much he can do. As he improves however, the space between the two of you slowly shrinks. Johnny makes it certain one way or another your attention is drawn back to himself. He notes everything you do, so if you don’t “have” something he either has an extra or absolutely knows you have an item. Similar likely happens with your horses habits. If he’s determined he manages to pin you under him. He merely mumbles “Stay” at a little too close for comfort distance.

Josuke (Part 8)

He’s curious at some of the excuses you make here and there. Or hearing about things you’d usually wouldn’t do. He’s not dumb obviously, so he asks if there’s a reason you’re avoiding him. The possible roundabout answers you give, don’t really satisfy. It is cute you’re nervous about it though. He may just simply ignore some of the things you tell him to try and keep your distance. Josuke wants to see you anyway, if he can’t he might try and call just to test if you’re at a certain place. “There’s nothing that can convince me to keep away” He’d tell you at one point or another.

Jodio

“Li~ar, liar~” At least this is what happens when you come up with something on the fly. Admittedly he’s busy with trying to get rich, but since he likes you on a level enough to significantly care. The things you tell him don’t quite match up. It’s not really hard to tell you’re avoiding him, he might even put that out bluntly. He’ll show up randomly when you least expect it, he might swipe something from a friend or delay a meetup somehow. “I don’t really care about whoever else you hang out with ya’ kno~w, it only should be a me and you thing”.

“Just don’t get used to thinking you can avoid me all the time”

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kitkats-forthe-gays · 2 months

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Okay okay hopefully last thing about Wilbur Soot.

Looking back at his lyrics (yes I hyperannylized this shit, I have no regrets) it all makes sense now.

I never wanted to say anything like this, but the lyrics “All this over a kiss. You weren’t there, so why you pressed by this?” Always stood out as kind of shitty. Again, that’s just my opinion and it probably means nothing in the current situation, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

Besides this, his lyrics in general just kind of seem shitty. He wrote about abuse and horrible people. How jealousy can drive anger and abuse. He wrote about everything he was. Angry, shitty, jealous, and abusive.

We all know Shubble and Niki aren’t the only victims. That’s obvious. The people he was close to, his friends, though they may not have spoken out, they were manipulated too.

Just like Billzo said in his response. He saw Wilbur be an ass towards his friends. He saw manipulation. But nothing could be said thanks to the platform he once had.

Looking back at old streams, too, there’s so much stuff we passed off as brotherly. We didn’t know any better, of course. That’s not our fault. It’s Wilbur’s. He tricked us. He tricked his friends.

Remember when Tommy said he felt uncomfortable around Wilbur, and he just came in and pushed Tommy away. No? I didn’t either. Because we were tricked into believing that Wilbur was being helpful. Manipulation at its finest.

Everything was just so fucked up. And there may have been signs, as I’ve just pointed out, but we didn’t notice. Nobody could have noticed. There was no way anyone could take one look at him and have gone “this guys an abuser”.

Anyone can say they knew all along, but did they? Sure, they could have been skeptical but that doesn’t mean they were sure he was an ass. In all reality, we were all just fans who were fooled by him into believing he did, and could do, nothing wrong.

That’s not anybody’s fault but his.

One final thing, nobody who was involved with the abuser owes anything. No apology. No statement. They don’t even have to acknowledge the situation.

It’s their lives. But the fuck out of it. They owe nobody anything. Let them cope.

Let them find their stance on the situation. If they choose to say something, good for them. If they choose move on and never say anything about it, that’s not our business.

Leave them alone

#tommyinnit #shelby shubble #wilbur soot #wilbur situation #philza #bilzo #niki nihachu #fuck wilbur soot #go support Shelby #shelby support

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teshamerkel · 3 months

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 52]

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Nia and Tobias have their mission. It's time to plan their next move, and get some training in while they're at the Lexym Guild.

Telling Maggie about their trip to Asra and Shivergleam is a tense affair. The meganium stays quiet for most of it, but Nia can see her honey-gold eyes darken after each brush with danger that they skim over, clumsily trying to fill in the gaps left in their story.

Finally, what feels like hours later, they're finished. Quiet falls over the three of them.

With a forced sort of calm, Maggie asks, “Is that everything?”

“It’s all we know so far,” Tobias hedges. “Our plan right now is just to find Xerneas. Hopefully she can prevent any of this from happening. Or at least fix the dimensional border if it does break.”

If she doesn't, the world falls apart, Nia silently adds, knowing she doesn’t need to say it for it to be in the forefront of all their minds. Both the Pokemon world and the human world would be destroyed.

Nia fiddles with the soft fur of her tail, too nervous to look up at Maggie. The silence while the grass type digests everything is heavy.

Finally, Maggie sighs. Nia jumps.

“I’m going to need a hug after all of that,” Maggie says.

Nia finally looks up, relieved, and willingly scoots closer for the meganium to pull her into a hug with her vine. Nia leans against her petals, soft but firm, and breathes in her fresh floral scent. She sees Tobias getting the same treatment on Maggie’s other side.

Immediately, Nia feels a little better. Everything feels less dire when she's tucked against Maggie like this. It's still quiet, but a comforting sort of quiet. It’s only the three of them in the herbalist quarters at the moment, Sage having been politely shooed out of the room to grab some berries for breakfast once Maggie realized that neither Nia nor Tobias felt comfortable explaining their trip with the ivysaur present. Sage had taken the obvious excuse with grace, thankfully, and is taking his time in returning.

“Thank you for telling me.” Maggie says. She takes a deep breath, Nia lifting with the exhale. “I just wish you two weren’t thrown right in the middle of all this mess. You’re so young.”

“We’re not little kids,” Tobias mutters.

“Oh, don’t pout.”

“I'm not pouting!” Tobias says, absolutely pouting.

Nia turns her face into Maggie’s petals to stifle a laugh.

“When were you planning on talking to August about all of this?” Maggie asks.

Nia pulls away to look at Tobias. He seems as unsure as she feels.

“Should we tell him?” Tobias asks, crossing his arms. “We’re getting intel from a banished legendary, if he even believes we're telling the truth. And we don’t know that he’ll actually do anything even if he does believe us. He said he’d look into the fire that happened in Ghatha but nothing ever came from that.”

Nia has to admit that he has a point.

Maggie sighs. “Even if it’s not obvious, I’m sure August is doing all he can to help. And if this is something jeopardizing not only our guild but the entire Pokemon world, I promise you he would want to know about it.”

Nia and Tobias exchange a doubtful look.

Maybe sensing that they’re reluctant to talk to August and worried that they’ll try to put it off completely, Maggie only allows a quick breakfast of the berries Sage brings back before marching the two of them straight to August’s office herself. The rillaboom looks pleased to see them, a soft sort of relief on his face when he catches sight of Nia and Tobias safely back from their travels. His warm smile fades as he locks eyes with Maggie, though, his more casual posture straightening up. He waves them in without a word.

Verene seems to be out, so they’re the only ones present in the spacious office. The leaves weaving in and out of the wooden walls are a lovely gradient of warm autumnal tones.

August takes a seat behind his desk, chair creaking. “Welcome back, Team Scarlet. It’s good to see you both safe. I heard from the crew of the Aqua Jet and that little sableye that you both showed impressive prowess as Seekers yesterday.”

Nia murmurs a thank you. Tobias nods.

“However, gauging by your expressions, I must assume that’s not why you came to see me today,” August says. “A shame. I could do with some good news, for once. What can I help you with?”

Nia looks to Tobias, so he starts them off. Retells the story once more with Nia stepping in on occasion, trading the explanation back and forth.

They mention Asra, first, to explain everything that comes after. Giratina. The protective shell of this world weakening from a preemptive crack in the very fabric of the dimension. Nia and Tobias being assigned to find Xerneas in a desperate bid for hope.

August’s brow knits and falls lower and lower as he listens, chin resting on bridged fingers. By time they’re finally finished, Nia’s throat is dry. The same oppressive silence from before falls over the room, and it feels thick enough to choke on.

August’s amber eyes settle on Nia. “How sure are you that Giratina was telling the truth?”

Nia tries not to let her own doubt show on her face. “W-Well…I guess I don’t have any proof that he was? But he felt…honest. And it makes sense. Or at least more sense than anything else people have guessed for why the world is breaking down, right? Could anything else cause natural disasters and make evolution stop? Or force legendaries to go dormant?”

“You think Giratina would have something to gain from us seeking out Xerneas?” Tobias asks, eyes narrowing.

August sighs, raking his fingers back through his leafy mane. “That’s difficult to say. I’m no expert on either legendary.”

“But surely there’s enough here to merit a deeper look,” Maggie pipes up. “If Giratina is being honest, then…”

August lets a rush of air out through his nose. “It would be disastrous for us to ignore him, yes.”

The quiet returns like an itchy, ill-fitting sweater.

“I’ll ask Alistair and Tawny to look into it immediately,” August finally says. “If they feel that searching for Xerneas is likely to be of help and not just playing into Giratina’s schemes, then I’ll reach out to the other Guildmasters so we can plan from there.”

Nia lets out a breath. Knowing that they aren’t solely responsible for saving the whole world feels like the weight of the Lexym Tree itself being lifted off her shoulders. She kind of wants to cry. “Thank you.”

August nods. “Of course. I’m here for anyone in the guild, but a matter pertaining to the safety of the entire world? That is not to be treated lightly.”

“Speaking of safety,” Tobias says, in a tone that would be casual if it didn’t sound like it was barbed with thorns. “You said you were going to send someone to look into the fire at Ghatha, right? And other human discrimination. Anything ever come of that?”

August gives Tobias a dry look. “Put away your fangs, Tobias. I did indeed look into the matter.”

“And?”

“The investigation into the Ghatha fire has unfortunately gone cold. While they can assume it was a fire type at the convention who started it, Rai’s guild hasn’t been able to determine who was the culprit. They’ve marked it closed for now unless new information arises.”

"Yeah, and I'm sure that decision has nothing to do with the guy not liking humans," Tobias mutters.

August's eyes narrow. "Where did you hear that?"

Nia blinks, surprised, and exchanges a look with Tobias. August doesn't know? "Keegan mentioned it, back when we were in Ghatha."

"The guild's second-in-command," Tobias clarifies. "A ninetales."

"Hm." August looks past them for a moment, locking eyes with Maggie. Before Nia can figure out what the two older Pokemon are thinking, he speaks again. "That's not something I was aware of. What are your thoughts on Keegan? I haven't had the chance to speak with him myself."

"He was nice!" Nia says.

"A little too nice," Tobias scoffs.

August hums. "...Noted. Regardless, for now the investigation remains at a stand-still."

Tobias’ muzzle crinkles, mirroring Nia’s own displeasure. While this news isn’t entirely unexpected, it is unnerving, not knowing the Pokemon who made a very intentional effort on all of the human lives at the convention in Ghatha. What if they try something else in the future? The thought makes Nia feel…uneasy. Unsafe.

“My scouts did also confirm your claims regarding the general perception of humans in Ghatha. It seems the aggression towards them is increasing. Considering you saw the same in Asra, I can only assume the trend continues elsewhere as well.”

“But why?" Nia protests, voice cracking. "We aren't doing anything wrong!"

“I know,” August says, rubbing at his face. “We know you have nothing to do with what’s happening to our world, Nia. None of the humans do. But unfortunately, the natural disasters and mystery dungeons are only becoming more and more common. Pokemon are injured and frightened, and humans are a handy group to shoulder the blame.”

“It’s escalating, isn’t it?” Maggie cuts in, voice soft. “Not just the aggression. The natural disasters. The spread of mystery dungeons. The Haven hasn’t been hit too hard yet, but…”

August hesitates with a glance at Nia and Tobias. “Yes. Which would line up with what Giratina is claiming. The closer we get to the moment when the barrier of our dimension breaks, the more and more dangerous our world gets. And the more that tensions run high, the more rumors spread about whose fault it could be.”

Another silence. Nia can hear the walls of the Lexym Tree creak around them in the wind.

“What about Will?” Tobias asks. Nia looks at him, surprised that he’s even willing to bring up the yamask he dislikes so much.

“Ah, yes. You mentioned wanting to visit him to see if he has any leads in finding Xerneas. My scouts didn’t hear much about his group while in Ghatha, but they also couldn’t find many humans at all, seeing as they’re keeping a low profile.”

“I sent him a letter before we left for Asra,” Nia speaks up. “Telling him about Giratina trying to pull me into the distortion realm through the stream. A-And about me recovering some of my memories. If he’s written back by now, he probably left a way to find him, right?”

“Should we even bother seeing if he has information, though?” Tobias asks, face twisting. “If we know that we’re looking for Xerneas, what are the chances he knows something Alistair and Tawny and the other guilds don’t?”

“Can we risk not checking?” Nia murmurs.

Tobias doesn’t have an argument for that. “I guess just flying straight to see him ourselves would be faster than waiting for mail.”

August's hand strokes at his chin. “I believe Nia is right. We can’t risk missing a potential lead from a network of information outside of our own. If you are willing to track him down, then I approve your travel to seek him out in a few days’ time. I will have the guild cover your flight costs across the sea.”

“Why’re we waiting?” Tobias asks, frowning. “Shouldn’t we leave right away?”

August shakes his head. “I want to first discuss with Alistair and Tawny. If they believe seeking out Xerneas could be as beneficial as Giratina suspects, I’ll have them spread word to the other guilds to start an official search. If they believe we could be playing into a plot, then we’ll put a hold on seeking out any information.”

Nia and Tobias trade an uncertain look, but eventually agree.

The three of them depart the office shortly after, August giving them a distracted goodbye as he turns to some papers on his desk.

“So we have a few days until we can leave,” Tobias says, jumping right into it. “What’s our plan until then?”

“We should probably go to our quarters first, right?” Nia says. “To see if Will even wrote back?”

Tobias frowns, but nods.

They reach the medical floor, and Maggie stops, reminding Nia and Tobias that the meganium has a job to do elsewhere.

“Oh, don’t give me those yamper eyes,” Maggie laughs. She nuzzles the top of Nia’s head, then Tobias’. “I have a job to do as well! And I’ll still be right here if you want to stop in again later tonight.”

Tobias visibly relaxes at the reminder, and Nia thanks the meganium for her help. For listening.

“Of course! Someone has to look after you two, always running off into trouble,” Maggie says with a wink.

Nia turns to head down the stairs, but pauses when Tobias doesn’t follow. The charmander is hesitating, staring at Maggie with a conflicted expression. Then he darts forward to squeeze Maggie’s leg in a hug. The meganium seems as surprised as Nia is by the unusually open affection, but after a beat her expression softens. She lowers her head to return the hug with her long neck and a vine, squeezing him tight.

Ah, right. Tobias had told Maggie about finding the home of the crobat outlaw, too. About finding the crobat's grave, and the loving family he’d left behind. Maggie had smothered him in a hug then, too, but it makes sense that he’s still feeling a bit emotional about it all.

Tobias only tolerates the affection for a few seconds before ducking free and slipping past Nia, calling for her to hurry up over his shoulder. Nia smiles as she waves to Maggie and hurries after her partner.

The two of them head to the Seekers’ quarters a few floors down. Most of the doors are closed since Pokemon are out and about doing missions in the middle of the day, but there are a few lattice windows in the halls that let in glimpses of bright sunshine and whistling gusts of air.

Their own room is just as they left it, save a thin layer of dust over everything. The wall is lined by a few wooden cabinets, along with a bookcase and chest to keep their belongings in. A large window sits on the far wall, its lattice-like roots currently opened wide. A leaf-woven curtain is pulled down over it to keep out the wind, and the sun shines through it beautifully, casting a dim golden-green hue over everything. In the center of the room lies their plush scarlet red rug, and away from the window sits their nests, resting side-by-side.

Tobias dumps their satchel next to the chest. Nia goes to the mailbox set into the wall by the door. She’s excited to find three pieces of mail inside—two letters and one thin slip of paper. She pulls them out and looks at the smallest one first. It reads 20% Off at the Kecleon Brothers Shop! with a cute little drawing of a pair of…chameleons?

“They have coupons in this world?” Nia asks, strangely amused by the thought.

Tobias’ warmth appears at her side as he peers over her shoulder. He snorts. “The kecleon merchants are really well-known. Good quality wares, but make sure you stay on their good side.”

“Um, okay. Why?”

Tobias flops down in his nest. “The last ‘mon that tried to steal from ‘em left with less limbs than they started with.”

“But they’re so cute!” Nia says, aghast, as she looks again at the little drawing.

“So are fairy types, and they’re terrifying."

Nia sinks into her own nest, gently setting the coupon aside. She’s not sure she wants to deal with the shop at all if that’s the reputation they keep. She lights up when she sees the second letter, though—it’s a cute little thing, blue, with Nia’s name written in delicate, loopy cursive.

Tobias rolls over to squint at the envelope. “Who wrote us a letter in gibberish?”

Nia blinks. “You can’t read this?”

“You can?”

Nia takes another look at the letter. At first she thinks the problem is that the writing is cursive, but then she realizes that it’s probably because it's English. Not the native Pokemon language.

“Oh,” Nia laughs, feeling a strange pang of homesickness. “It’s in English. A, uh. Human language.”

She opens the envelope with care, pulling out the stationery and smiling at the letter, which is also written in looping cursive. Tobias doesn’t say anything else, but she can feel his eyes on her so she translates as she skims.

“It’s from Hazel. She says that she can make me a human bed! Oh man, you are going to love it. You’ll never be able to go back to a normal nest. And she’ll even give me the family discount! Aww!”

“She should give you more than that after we saved her mate’s tail,” Tobias says.

“We hadn’t even met Beck yet when I sent the request! Let’s see here…she also says—”

Nia bursts into laughter.

“What?”

“She also says that she’s glad you’re nicer to me now, but that she’s willing to knock some sense into you any time if that changes.”

Tobias straightens up, flushing. “She did not say that.” Nia cackles, turning the page over to his grabby hands. “She did! C’mon, she’s the reason I confronted you in Afon’s Cap at all!”

Tobias makes a face, but he’s still bright red. Nia isn’t sure if it’s because he’s embarrassed to be called out, or because of his behavior during their early partnership in the first place. Either way, he folds the letter back up and frisbees it at her, huffing.

Nia laughs again and tucks the letter off to the side with the coupon. She’ll have to write the old raichu back later. Nia’s amusement dies down as she picks up the third letter.

Tobias sits up as he sees her expression. “…Will?”

Nia nods. Hesitantly, she opens the yamask’s letter.

Nia,

While I’m pleased to hear from you, I wish it was under better circumstances! I’m relieved that you escaped from Giratina unharmed, but concerned that you had such a close call at all. If you do feel unsafe where you are, please don’t hesitate to come join the community of humans we have amassed thus far—we’re growing by the day! We're just south of Ghatha, past Stonebrook and closer to Kaleido Bay. If you can find Stonebrook, they can direct you from there.

“Stonebrook,” Nia murmurs, tilting her head. “Why does that sound familiar?”

Tobias, who had scooched closer to read, frowns as he tries to recall as well. Then he groans and plants his face in his hands.

“What?”

“It’s where your stupid rookidee friend lives,” Tobias says, words muffled.

Nia gasps. “Junie! Oh my gosh, you’re right! We could stop by and see her! She could—”

“We are not inviting her to join us.”

“Aw, why not? I miss her!”

“You miss her because she doesn’t pick fights with you constantly!”

Nia looks at him for a moment. “I thought you kind of enjoyed it. It's like how you squabble with Andyn."

Tobias stumbles over a retort—outright stammers—his face growing red again, and Nia bursts into laughter.

“Oh my God, I knew it! You do like bickering with them! Why do you act like you hate them so much?”

“I do hate them!”

“Mhm.”

“They’re annoying and loud and—”

“They’re your frieeends,” Nia coos, poking him in the cheek.

“They are not,” Tobias hisses, swatting her hand away. “Shut up!”

Nia can feel him heating up with embarrassment so she knows he’s lying, but she takes mercy and backs off, still grinning.

“This is exactly why you don’t need to be spending more time with either of them,” Tobias grumbles, rubbing at his cheek. “They’re rubbing off on you.”

Nia finally tames her delight down to a manageable level and goes back to Will’s letter.

I am thrilled, however, to hear about your returned memories, even if you had to endure a terrifying illness to find them. After speaking with more of the humans under my care who have recovered their own memories, I have to wonder if there is a correlation between severe injury or illness and the recovery of one's memories. Perhaps brushing by Death’s doorstep unlocks a part of the brain once buried?

Huh. Nia has to take a moment to think after reading that. The handful of memories she recovered did only return to her when she was gravely ill, but she didn’t think it was a direct correlation. But Will seems to be implying that nearly dying could be a trigger for that process. If Giratina is correct, maybe it has to do with them getting close to…leaving their new vessels? So the memories that Mew sealed away kind of…loosen?

Nia shakes her head, unnerved by the reminder that she nearly died, and reads on.

I would love to discuss with you further if you do feel like visiting. Know that you’re always welcome. We have exciting developments in the works! Until then, I hope you and your partner are well.

Will

Nia sits back. “Well, he’s open to a visit, and we have directions…”

“Guess it’s settled then,” Tobias sighs. “I’ll let August know tomorrow.”

“August said to give him a few days to run everything by Tawny and Alistair, right? So…what should we do in the meantime?”

Tobias makes a thoughtful sound in his throat, eyes trailing over the faint pattern of leaves forming the window curtain. “We don’t want to wear ourselves out completely before traveling, but we should definitely do some training or missions or something. We need to keep getting stronger, and we need to keep rising higher in the ranks so Pokemon take us seriously.”

“That would give us more funds, too,” Nia agrees. “So I guess for now we just work on recuperating and take a few missions?"

“Then when we’re cleared for travel we go to the flying outpost.” Tobias finishes, a smirk growing on his face. “You excited to get back in the air?”

Nia groans, falling back into her nest. The soft scent of straw and moss wafts up around her. “Not even a little.”

Tobias snorts a laugh. “You’ll survive.”

There’s a moment of quiet where Nia lies starfished in her nest, listening to the wind blow against their curtain. The midday sun has warmed their little room enough for it to feel nice and cozy.

“It’s too late in the day to start a mission,” Tobias says, snagging her attention again. “But I’m going to go see if Azami or Val are around to spar with.”

While he isn’t outright asking Nia to join, the way he pauses to look at her makes the implied question clear. Nia perks up. “Oh! I’ll come with! I’ve been wanting to chat with Val about how my aura’s shaping up anyways.”

Tobias grins, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand to help her up. The two of them leave the cozy atmosphere of their room to wind their way down the Lexym Tree.

At the doorway leading into the training floor, Nia nearly bumps into a taller Pokemon. She hops back with an apology, craning her head up to meet their eyes. They look interesting—an olive green and tan Pokemon with a mushroom cap and a long, almost kangaroo-like tail. In their bright red claws, tucked close to their body, they hold something like a clipboard.

The mushroom Pokemon starts a polite apology, but cuts himself off as he catches sight of Tobias standing behind Nia. Nia’s own apology trails off as she looks between Tobias and the new ‘mon. Tobias is clearly uncomfortable, an echo of his old, closed-off demeanor resurfacing as he crosses his arms and scowls up at the taller grass type.

“Try to keep everything in one piece,” The new Pokemon finally says, tone clipped, as he slips around them and walks off.

Nia turns to Tobias with a concerned frown. “Who was that?”

“Archer,” He grumbles, good mood clearly soured. “He keeps track of inventory.”

“Oh. Um. Why was he..?”

“I used to be more…destructive, with some of the dummies. They’re flammable.”

“Oh.” Nia stares at him, trying to parse that information. With how often they travel nowadays and how much Tobias has softened up around her, Nia always forgets that there are Pokemon in the guild who aren’t fond of Tobias for one reason or another. This reason doesn’t seem like a very fair one, though. “Aren’t training dummies meant to be attacked?”

“Not when you’re using fire, apparently,” Tobias snaps, moving past her and into the training area with his shoulders tense.

Nia hurries after her partner, relieved when she sees that not only are their mentors present, but that Val is working with Xander’s team. The medicham is listening to something the luxio is explaining, the rest of his teammates gathered around to listen as well.

Azami is nearby, manning a different fighting area. The tsareena is watching a treecko as they attack a dummy, but she beams behind her tall collar when she catches sight of Nia and Tobias. “Spitfire! And little Riolu. Good to see you!”

Tobias ducks his chin into his scarf, but Nia thinks he’s secretly pleased to have such a warm reception after bumping into Archer. Val, Xander and the rest of Team Shellshock turn at the loud greeting as well.

Avery smiles with a delicate wave.

Felix grins, fluffy ears perking. “Nia!”

“Good to see you," Xander says. "When did you two get back?”

“Last night! Sorry, are we interrupting?” Nia says, approaching the group.

“We were actually just saying we need to branch out a bit with our sparring partners,” Xander says, giving Nia a friendly flick of his star-tipped tail. His gold eyes move to Tobias. “Either of you interested in joining us for combat training?"

“Yeah! I’ve been dying to see how you squirts do in a fight,” Kry says. The fraxure cracks her knuckles to punctuate her words, as if her looming presence isn't intimidating enough.

Tobias, however, flexes his claws and steps forward to meet her. “You’re on.”

"Ohoho! Bring it, little 'mon!"

“Oh, this oughta be good,” Felix says, turning to lead everyone to the sidelines. “C’mon, we’d better clear the field for these two.”

“They’re going to battle right now?” Nia asks, giving Val a wide-eyed look even as she follows. They just got here! Shouldn’t they warm up or something?

The medicham shrugs. “Charmander stepped forward.”

Well, she can’t argue with that. Still, as Nia sits to watch, she can't help feeling nervous as Tobias crouches into a battle stance across from Kry. The fraxure lashes her tail and lowers her head with a sharp grin. Nia doesn’t think the brash Pokemon would actually hurt Tobias, but…

“Battle!” Val calls.

Both lizard Pokemon lunge, Tobias ducking under a slash and spinning to trip up Kry’s footing with his tail. The fraxure recovers with surprising grace and goes on the offensive again. Tobias is forced to backstep, shooting off small bursts of fire to try and gain some distance. Kry leaps right through one of Tobias’ flames as if it were nothing more than smoke.

“Whoa,” Nia murmurs.

“How was your trip?” Xander asks, leaning over to whisper.

“We had an, uh…eventful week,” Nia chuckles. “Solved a mysterious earthquake problem, fought some outlaws, got caught in a mystery dungeon on the river, so fun times all around.”

They also found the grave of a long-hunted outlaw and met with Giratina of all Pokemon, who told them the world was ending, but Nia feels reluctant to drop all of that onto Xander so suddenly.

Felix whistles. The wartortle’s gaze is on the fight, but his fluffy ears are angled her way. “Busy, busy! No wonder Tobias is holding his own pretty well. You two just don’t stop, huh?”

Nia smiles and straightens up, proudly watching her partner continue to dance around Kry. His fighting style is still more offensive than defensive, but he’s playing it smart, relying on his smaller size and speed to keep the fraxure from landing a spar-stopping blow.

“You willing to try a round next?” Xander asks, giving Nia a friendly nudge with his elbow that nearly knocks her over.

Nia laughs, a little nervous. “Sure? But, uh, I’m not as good at fighting as Tobias.”

“Somehow I doubt that’s true,” Avery speaks up from Xander's other side. The kirlia gives her a warm half-smile. “You tend to underestimate yourself.”

Nia flushes under her fur and looks back to the fight, wincing as Kry nearly lands a devastating punch on Tobias. Instead, her fist slams into the wooden floor with enough force to crack it. The fraxure seems to be getting frustrated, but Tobias is starting to slow too, panting hard. He hasn’t used his smokescreen yet, though Nia isn’t sure if that’s a matter of pride or if Kry’s vision would be sharp enough to see through it.

The fight continues for another minute, Tobias landing a few brushes of flames and claws on Kry’s tough hide, but the fraxure is the one who ends it. She clips the charmander with a left hook, and as he stumbles, she slams him hard in the gut with her heavy tail. Tobias staggers, and Kry takes the opportunity to pin him to the ground with her greater weight.

After a few moments of Tobias struggling to free himself—that tail whip must've knocked the breath out of him if he isn't using his fire—Val calls the match. Kry releases him, stepping back, and Tobias sits up slowly, wincing and rubbing at his stomach. Felix calls out a jovial “Good match!” while Val moves to Tobias’ side. At first, the charmander seems reluctant to listen to her, but after a few quiet words he looks at her fully, scowl lessening as he nods. She must be giving him advice.

Kry makes her way over and grins down at Nia, breathing somehow unlabored. “You next, scrap?”

Felix pouts. “You already got your turn, Kry.”

“And I asked first,” Xander says smoothly, standing and moving to where Kry stood before. He doesn’t sound bossy, but somehow even Nia can hear the quiet authority in his voice. While Nia and Tobias don’t really have a “leader” of their team, it’s clear that Xander holds the title for Team Shellshock.

“You up for it, Nia?” The luxio asks, confident expression softening.

Nia feels her heart flutter with anxiety, but Avery gives her an encouraging nod. She pads over to where Tobias is finally getting to his feet.

“Good fight,” Nia whispers to him as she passes.

“Kick his tail,” Tobias says in return, though it sounds less heated than the scathing comments he used to make towards Xander.

Nia nods and gets in position, lifting her hands and crouching just a bit, feet spread wide and stable. She still doesn’t particularly like fighting, even for fun, but she just tries to think of it more like…a friendly sporting match.

Xander spreads his paws wide as his tail flicks. Sparks come to life and crackle across his black fur, like stars in a night sky. Nia shifts, suddenly registering the fact that Xander is nearly twice her size. Usually the thought is comforting more than anything, but facing him as an opponent…

“Show ‘em what you did to that steelix!” Tobias shouts.

There’s a lull in the group's conversation that makes Nia’s ears flatten, embarrassed by the attention. However, the comment does lessen her nerves a bit. Hard to be intimidated by a luxio when she’s faced down a metal serpent the size of a semi-truck. And she did just learn work up in the last mystery dungeon, which should make her more powerful, but that might up her attack too much—she doesn't want to actually hurt Xander, after all.

Nia can hear Felix asking Tobias about the steelix comment, but Val starts off their spar with a loud, “Battle!”

In complete contrast to Tobias and Kry’s fight, Nia and Xander stay frozen in place, sizing each other up. The sparks crackling across the luxio’s fur make her wary to get in close like she usually does—he can probably cause paralysis, right? He is an electric type. But if she doesn’t get in close, then her only option is to—

Xander makes the first move, lighting up with a flash of electricity and sending a test bolt her way. Nia rolls out of the way on instinct, but she can feel the charge in the air prickling at her fur.

Xander’s eyes narrow. He darts forward to attack.

Nia yelps and creates a staff of aura, taking a swing to make him leap back. He does so, but shoots off another electric attack. Nia barely manages to scramble out of the way, rolling and leaping from bolt after bolt. She doesn’t realize Xander is herding her closer and closer to himself until he’s suddenly slamming into her side.

The electricity in his fur stings, and the blow sends her tumbling across the floor as her staff vanishes. Xander hesitates. Nia takes the opportunity as soon as she lands on her knees to charge up a messy ball of aura in her paws and launch it at the luxio. Xander’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting that, before he gets hit head-on in a flash of blue.

Nia winces. Yeah, she really doesn’t like fighting her friends.

“Oh, you learned aura sphere while you were gone?” Nia hears Avery say, excited.

Nia blinks, looking over at the kirlia. “I did?”

Tobias is also staring at Avery. “She did?”

Nia sees Avery’s eyes widen a split-second before Xander bowls into her again. As she rolls to a stop, she notices the tingly current racing through her body, making her limbs feel numb and locked into place. She struggles to sit up but can’t move. Xander takes his opportunity to pin her down, paws heavy on her arms.

He smiles. “My win.”

Nia accepts defeat with a sigh, letting her head drop back. “I got distracted.”

Xander laughs. For a moment his claws flex, and then Nia feels the electricity in her body…recede, as Xander’s own sparks increase. He steps back, and Nia can move again. She blinks as she sits up, rubbing the remaining tingles out of her arms. Did he…take back the paralysis? Like a lightning rod?

“Good fight, Nia!” Felix, ever the optimist, cheers.

“It really wasn’t,” Nia says. “At least not on my end.”

“That aura sphere caught me off-guard,” Xander encourages. “And I have a feeling you were holding back on me.”

“Not on purpose,” Nia assures, even as she keeps her mouth shut about how Xander hesitated too. He reminds her of her brother in the human world, Clay, so of course she doesn’t want to hurt him. She imagines he sees some of his younger siblings in her as well.

As they rejoin the rest of the group, Kry and Felix pass them to spar next. Val gestures Nia to sit at her side, between her and Avery.

“Sorry, I promise I’ve been keeping up with my training. I can fight better than that,” Nia says, shying away from her mentor’s inscrutable gaze.

“So we heard!” Avery says, ruby eyes shining. “You fought a steelix on your own?”

Nia shrugs, ears pinning to her head. “Tobias and Samir weakened him first.”

“It is still impressive, Riolu,” Val finally says. “Do not downplay your achievements. You fight hardest when there is a true threat. That is admirable in its own way.”

Nia relaxes, giving Val a thankful smile. “I just worry about hurting my friends when we spar.”

“Xander can take it,” Avery giggles. “But forget about that—what other aura techniques did you learn while you were gone?”

Nia perks up as she describes her improved control over her aura. She can form a pretty reliable staff of aura now, officially replacing her trusty branch as her main weapon, and apparently even throw something like an aura sphere at a short distance, at least according to Avery. Plus, there’s the way she used her aura to find Tobias in the mines under Asra—like a pulse. A radar.

At that revelation, Avery interrupts. “That could be a really useful skill to master.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely! Other than being able to find Pokemon buried beneath rocks or snow, you could even use it in battle or in the dark if your vision is impaired.”

Nia looks down at her hands, flexing them. She supposes she did kind of “see” Tobias’ aura to find him in the rubble. And she remembers when she was first learning to use her aura that Val’s energy formed a sort of…silhouette of color. Nia hadn’t thought of practicing her aura as a form of vision, but Avery does have a point about it being useful in certain situations.

“Want to try it?” Xander asks, dropping into the conversation from Avery's other side.

“Now?” Nia asks.

“Why not?”

Nia looks between everyone, but they all seem open to the idea. Tobias, sitting on Xander’s other side, looks a bit uneasy as usual at the mention of aura, but he doesn’t protest. Maybe since Nia has already seen his aura once, albeit on a very surface level, some of his reluctance has melted away.

“You…don’t mind if I look at your aura to practice?”

Everyone shakes their head, save for Tobias. He just shrugs, looking down to fiddle with his scarf. That's as close to a yes as she's probably getting.

Well, they’re all waiting for her. With a hesitant nod, Nia closes her eyes, trying to remember what she did down in the mines. At the time she was fueled by desperation, so it feels strange to try and replicate the move in a more relaxed environment. She thinks she just kind of…pushed out a thin pulse of aura? Like a wave.

She tries it once, gently. Her aura barely even leaves her body, brushing against Val’s orange energy and flashing in her mind’s eye before petering out. Frowning, Nia turns up the power a few notches. Not so strong as to hurt, but not so weak that it dissipates immediately.

On her second try, the aura washes over all of them in a single pulse. Colors light up in her mind’s eye, resembling their vague silhouettes. Val’s bright, strong orange. Avery’s calming indigo. Xander’s eye-catching red. Tobias’ deeper scarlet. For an instant, for a moment, she sees them all, before it goes dark again.

“That felt…interesting,” Xander says, making Nia open her eyes. He’s rubbing a paw over his chest.

Nia blinks. “You felt that?”

Avery nods. “Yes! It’s so hard to describe. It almost feels like you…brushed your paw over my arm to get my attention. But…against my mind instead? My emotions, maybe?”

Nia cringes, immediately glancing at Tobias. He was the touchiest about her aura being invasive.

He does look a bit wary. “How does it feel for you? When you do that.”

Nia looks down at her hand, curling it. “I…don’t think I focused on anyone long enough to get a read on anything? But I’m familiar enough with all of you that it was easy to tell who was who. I could still…feel your personalities? But not any specific emotions.”

“If you were to focus your aura more steadily, in a direct connection rather than a radius, I wonder how well you could track an opponent, even with your eyes closed,” Val says, hand at her chin.

“Could you attach your aura in some way?” Avery adds. “Tag someone, so you would have a constant link?”

Nia sits back. Huh. She certainly hadn’t thought of that. She’s glad these two are here to help. “I…don’t know? I’ve never tried.”

“Would you want to?” Avery asks, practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of experimenting. They clearly wouldn’t mind being a guinea pig.

“Sure? If you don’t, uh. Mind. Any suggestions for how to do this? Since you’re a psychic type?”

“Well, you should probably start out by touching them, right?” Xander says, tilting his head. He glances Kry and Felix’s way when a small explosion goes off from their sparring. Felix is cackling as Kry shouts something at him.

“That would likely be a good place to start, yes,” Val says.

Avery holds out a hand, smiling. Nia hesitates, then takes it, closing her eyes and reaching out with her aura.

Avery’s purple-blue aura, as curious and deep as the night sky, flares to life behind Nia’s eyelids, making up the kirlia’s silhouette. Nia’s own bright blue aura is a strong contrast to it, the two colors a beautiful mix where they overlap at their hands. But when Nia pulls back her paw, Avery’s aura vanishes. She frowns, and touches the kirlia again so the indigo flares back to life. So she does need to…attach her aura to them, somehow. Anchor herself?

Nia can’t think of how to do such a thing, so she tries to let her instincts take over instead. Aura is all about emotion, after all. About her life energy, what she wills into being. So what if she just…wills her aura to connect? Wills her bond with the kirlia to become something…tangible. Something physical. Something more than the surface-level observations of aura that she's done so far, something deeper.

She thinks about Avery’s soft voice and bright eyes and the delicate way they move. How they’re always happy to help Nia think through a problem and how their very presence soothes something anxious in Nia. Warm affection wells up in her heart.

Nia’s aura moves to follow that pull, that connection, latching onto Avery’s instead of just brushing against it. She feels a rush of emotion, of thought, that isn’t hers.

fascinating eager friend proud curious

It’s less a voice, and more a…feeling of each word. Not too different from what Nia has felt in the past, but somehow more intense. Clearer. Nia yanks her hand away, startled, but between them a string of bright blue aura remains, tying her to Avery’s indigo aura and keeping their form visible behind her eyelids. If Nia focuses on it, she can still feels Avery’s emotions, distant. Like a voice from the next room over or a palm radiating warmth through a heavy sweater.

Worry friend okay?

Nia’s eyes snap open, and she feels the connection cut out, leaving her feeling almost…lonely. She’s panting like she hasn’t since the early days of her aura training. Avery, Xander, and Tobias are watching her with mirrored expressions of concerned curiosity.

“I-I think it worked?” Nia says.

Avery lights up, leaning forward. “Tell me everything.”

Nia tries her best to describe the experience as Felix and Kry return to the group, Kry pouting at her loss and Felix ribbing the dragon type with an elbow to her side. As soon as they’re caught up on what’s happening, Felix eagerly volunteers to be Nia’s next test subject.

Nia has a slightly harder time connecting to Felix’s leafy green aura, and frowns as she tries and fails to find a foothold.

“Maybe your aura is too depleted?” Avery suggests.

Nia considers that, but shakes her head. No, her aura isn’t anywhere near gone. It’s just like…trying to stick one piece of cotton to another, with no adhesive to hold it in place. With Avery, it was like there’d been a piece of Velcro to snag onto.

Val, arms crossed and head tilted, flicks her gaze to Tobias. “Charmander.”

Tobias, who had been watching the whole process with an unreadable expression, frowns. “Yeah?”

“You next.”

Nia and Tobias shake their heads at the same time.

“No.”

“H-He doesn’t have to, really!”

“He is your partner,” Val cuts in. “He of all Pokemon should be the one you are most familiar with. If you two are separated, I want to know you have a chance to use this skill to your advantage.”

That is…unfortunately a good point. Except Tobias has been so private with his aura, from the very beginning. Not that Nia can blame him! It’s a really personal thing. But…she also doesn’t want to disappoint Val, and—

“Fine,” Tobias grumbles, scooting over to sit in front of Nia and jabbing his hand forward. “Get it over with.”

Nia blinks at him, surprised. Just like that?

Tobias flushes. “She has a good point. C’mon.”

Nia still hesitates, but after glancing at his face one more time she closes her eyes and reaches out a hand.

Before even brushing against him, her aura leaps from her body to his, latching on like a magnet. Tobias’ emotions filter through the string, somehow…louder than Avery's. Clearer, like the reception is better.

hide hide hide calm down Nia won’t hate calm down will she get it over with already—

Nia cuts the connection herself, recoiling with wide eyes. Tobias glares back at her, none of the turmoil she just felt showing on his face.

“Riolu?” Val prompts.

“You didn’t even touch me,” Tobias grumbles. “Why do you look so freaked out?”

“I-I didn’t need to?” Nia says, more a question than a statement. “I…my aura connected on its own?”

“Without contact?” Avery asks.

Surprised, Nia nods. Her attention is admittedly torn, though, caught on the thoughts and emotions Nia felt when she connected to her partner. He’s…so scared of her looking at his aura. And not because of privacy reasons, like she’d previously thought.

He’s…scared Nia will hate what she sees?

“Hm.” Val looks like she expected this turn of events. “I suspect the depth of your bond with someone influences how easily you can connect to them.”

“Or maybe Nia is just getting better as she goes?” Felix suggests.

Nia can’t give the speculation her full attention like she usually would. She’s too busy trying to tear her thoughts away from Tobias’ suddenly worrying self-esteem, or lack thereof. She…doesn’t think she can really bring it up directly, since they were kind of his private thoughts? But she’s more than a little concerned. She’s confident that the two of them are friends at this point, but he’s still so scared that she’s suddenly going to…what? Turn on him? Just because she gets a better understanding of who he is?

“Try again on Wartortle,” Val says.

Nia manages to focus back on the conversation, at least a little. Distracted, almost without thinking, she reaches out and tries to make her aura connect to Felix again, this time without touching. Her aura strains and reaches an inch or two past her body before snapping back. Completely different than it was with Tobias, where it leaped for him like a long-lost friend.

“No,” Nia murmurs. “I think Val is right. It’s…it feels completely different.”

Felix looks unusually put out by Nia struggling to connect with his aura. Val, Avery and Xander, however, just seem thoughtful. Kry is busy picking at her teeth.

Tobias is staunchly looking everywhere but Nia, face redder than usual and fingers rubbing at his scarf. Embarrassed. Nia supposes she understands how he feels, even in her distracted state. It’s one thing to feel close to him, but another thing entirely to have tangible proof of their friendship. Then again, apparently he needs proof, if his inner thoughts are anything to gauge by.

“If only we could speak with one of the lucario tribes,” Avery sighs. “They must know so much more about aura and what it can do. Psychic energy can be used for telepathy and more physical techniques like telekinesis, but aura is an entirely different matter since it deals directly with life energy and emotions. I’ve heard you can even influence a target's emotional state and manipulate their aura like you would your own!”

Nia leans back, something in her gut turning over as she snaps back to the conversation at hand. Influencing others’ emotions? Manipulating their aura, their life energy?

"That…uh, sounds a little scary, Avery."

Avery seems surprised, but then laughs. “Apologies. I suppose it does. I just thought it was fascinating! And I know you would never misuse your aura, so I don’t fear that kind of power in your paws.”

Nia’s unease fades a bit as she gives them a smile. It’s nice to know Avery has so much faith in her.

“For now, continue to explore this technique, Riolu,” Val says. She tilts her head towards the battlefield. “Avery. Luxio. You are next.”

Avery looks reluctant to leave the discussion, but sighs and stands with an unreasonable amount of grace. They give Xander a teasing smile. “Think you can win this time?”

Xander laughs, lighting up in the way he only seems to around the kirlia. It’s kind of adorable. He nudges his teammate as they walk onto the battlefield together. “I’ll certainly try my best.”

Val hums, gaze lingering on the two of them as they start sparring without her call. “Charmander, you will battle Wartortle next.”

Nia frowns. Felix just battled a bit ago. “Shouldn’t I..?”

“You can fight if you would prefer to, but I can see you are reluctant. I believe you are making fine enough combat progress to focus on your aura today.”

Oh. Nia would prefer that over sparring, if Val thinks she’s doing all right. “O-Okay! So should I just..?”

“Practice with my aura while I monitor the sparring,” Val says, still watching the battle. “Connect to me, then try stepping away to see how far you can go before you lose the connection. Take a break between each attempt.”

There’s no hesitation in the medicham’s words, so after a moment Nia nods and closes her eyes to connect to Val’s orange energy. It’s not nearly as easy as Tobias or even Avery, but not any more difficult than Felix. A gentle tap to the fighting type’s arm, and the connection, though weak, is made. Val’s thoughts and emotions, calm as a still lake, leak through.

Luxio spark more aggressive Avery work on physical strength Riolu take breaks cannot forget exhaust herself—

Nia tries to channel out the medicham's thoughts, feeling a bit like she’s intruding. The thoughts are still there, but like someone murmuring nearby. She can kind of tune them out, and instead focuses on getting to her feet.

Whoa. She feels a bit woozy, as she usually does when stretching her aura in new ways. After a moment she manages to back away, one step at a time. The string between them stretches longer and longer. All Nia sees is her own aura and Val’s, the orange silhouette of her a bright beacon amidst the sea of black behind her eyelids.

Nia makes it ten steps away before she feels the string…strain, for lack of a better word. A tug on her soul. Then, one more step and it snaps. Nia gasps and stumbles, barely managing to catch herself before she can fall.

“Nia?” Tobias calls, apparently watching. His brow is furrowed.

“I’m fine!” She pants. That feeling just…surprised her. It was as if something she was leaning her weight on suddenly vanished.

“Take a break,” Val calls.

Nia does so, staggering back to Val’s side to sit and watch Xander and Avery exchange blows.

That’s how the training session continues, the others taking turns sparring, Tobias included, while Nia trains this new facet of her aura.

Avery, of course, gently interrogates Nia every time they are on the sidelines, watching Nia’s progress with fascination. The two of them hold a conversation as Nia treads back and forth, getting familiar with seeing the others through her aura. Avery is as curious about Nia and Tobias’ travels to Asra and Shivergleam as they are about everything else.

When Nia brings up how protect and misty terrain stopped the effects of the forming mystery dungeon on their way back from Shivergleam, Avery falls silent. When Nia finishes that round of connection training and opens her eyes, Avery is staring at her in much the same way they did when Nia made the connection between aura and type energy. Like their world has just shifted on its axis a bit.

“Avery?”

“…It’s almost a shame you became a Seeker, Nia. The research community would be lucky to have you.”

“Has no one ever tried to use a move like that in a mystery dungeon?” Nia asks, frowning. It feels kind of…obvious?

Avery hums. “I’m sure someone has, but it’s certainly not a well-documented strategy. The number of Pokemon who know such moves is already small, and the number of those Pokemon who just happen to get caught in a mystery dungeon forming are even smaller. To then also have a calm enough head to try defending rather than running? Even less so.”

“Oh.” Nia suddenly feels very, very glad that her instinct seems to be to freeze and defend, rather than to fight or flee. In this case, it worked in her favor.

“Mystery dungeons are a fairly recent phenomenon, in the grand scheme of things,” Avery continues. “Less than half a century old. And considering how dangerous they are to study as well as how randomly and rarely they appear—at least until recently—many basic facts about how they function are still unknown."

Huh. Nia guesses that makes sense.

"So this is an incredible discovery!" Avery says, excited. "I’ll need to share with Father later and ask him to connect with the researchers and archivists at the other guilds. I wonder why those moves can interact directly with a mystery dungeon? Is the environment itself using an attack somehow?”

Avery’s voice trails off to a mutter, and Nia has to stop herself from responding. Because she knows the answer to that, thanks to Giratina. Knows that the weakening border around the Pokemon world is the cause of the mystery dungeons, and that it’s made of life energy, of aura, just like any Pokemon. It makes sense that moves, which also use aura as their base power, can interact with it.

But sharing that knowledge would mean admitting to her run-in with Giratina. It would mean sharing the news of the world ending, the news that their hopes currently hinge on finding a long-lost dormant legendary. And August is going to talk to Alistair and Tawny anyways, right? Nia doesn’t want to put that burden on Avery’s shoulders. Not when there’s nothing they can do about it. They’re having a good time, training together! There’s no reason for Nia to bother Avery with terrible news. Not yet.

Nia takes a break shortly after that conversation, starting to feel truly worn down. Tobias sits down beside her after his latest spar, panting hard after facing off against Xander. Felix and Avery battle in front of them, while Xander and Kry talk strategy and Val observes.

“Hey, you crazy kids!”

Nia and Tobias tilt their heads back to see Azami hanging over them. She must be done training her own students. The tsareena’s mouth is hidden behind her high collar, but her eyes are crinkled with a smile. “Good to see you back at the Tree in one piece.”

Tobias scoffs, but Nia feels the way he relaxes at her side. “What, you think we were going to lose an arm or something out there?”

Azami laughs. “I never know with you, Spitfire!”

The tsareena takes a seat on Val’s other side to watch the spar now that she’s done mentoring her own students. After a moment, she decides to cheer on Avery. Felix sends her a betrayed look in the midst of battle that results in him getting blasted by a fairy move. Val gets up a moment later to move to where Felix is groaning on the floor, a quiet lecture about getting distracted in battle likely on her tongue.

On Nia's other side, Tobias is now arguing with Kry and Xander about offensive versus defensive strategies. Tobias insists that offensive is best, of course, while Xander leans more towards defensive strategies. Kry seems to be arguing that going on the offensive is not aggressive enough, somehow.

Nia, left to drift in the middle, sits in contented silence, letting her fatigued aura rest. She watches Val talk to Avery next. The medicham’s stoic expression is softened ever so slightly as she directs the kirlia on how they could’ve better dodged a tricky aqua tail attack earlier in the battle.

Azami leans over to whisper to Nia, “You’re one of her favorites, y’know.”

“W-What?”

“Val,” Azami says. She straightens up, but keeps her voice low. “She didn’t have the greatest mentor growing up, so she tends to keep her students at arm’s length. But she always perks up when you and Spitfire are back in town.”

“Oh,” Nia says, unsure what else to respond with. Her ears feel warm.

She…wasn’t expecting that. Val doesn’t seem to hate being around Nia and teaching her, but Nia has a hard time believing that Val holds any particular fondness for her, either. Especially considering Nia’s inexperience with pretty much, well…everything. If anything, she’d thought Val might find her kind of exhausting to deal with. Not that the medicham ever let that slip, but she doesn’t let much of anything slip.

“Trust me,” Azami laughs. “Other than Alistair, I’m the best Val translator in the guild. We’re close.”

Her voice is sly, and Nia glances at the tall grass type.

Azami winks.

Oh, Nia thinks as her brows shoot up. She doesn’t want to assume anything, but Azami isn’t exactly subtle. Does that mean her and Val..?

Val finishes offering advice and returns to sit between Nia and Azami, stopping Nia’s moment of revelation. Still, she can’t help peeking over at the two Pokemon afterwards, trying to figure out if Azami was just teasing her or not. Azami does lean awfully close to Val when they talk, and the medicham doesn’t seem to mind at all. Then again, cool and collected is kind of her default state.

For a moment, Nia thinks, I could connect to Val’s aura to find out.

Then she registers that thought and tears her gaze away to watch the next spar, stomach turning uncomfortably. She’s going to need to be careful with how she practices this new technique. Every time she thinks she’s getting a grasp on her aura, getting comfortable with it, something new pops up to throw a curveball and make her feel like she’s handling a live bomb. It’s just…scary. To know she holds so much power.

Val calls it quits on everyone’s training soon after. Tobias and Xander’s team are radiating exhaustion, and they eagerly agree to break for a late lunch. While Nia isn’t physically tired, her aura is worn down to a fraction of its usual amount and that leaves her ready for a rest and a good meal, too.

“Wanna come with us to the dining hall?” Felix invites, smile broad as he stands and stretches.

Nia glances at her partner. Tobias seems uncertain, but doesn’t disagree immediately, so he’s probably just feeling shy about how to say yes without a fuss. Nia accepts for them both, and the group packs up to head down the Lexym Tree to the cafeteria floor.

As they leave, calling thanks to Val and Azami, Nia spots the tsareena slinging an arm around Val’s shoulders, laughing about something. Val’s mouth twitches into a small smile.

Nia bites back a smile of her own and hurries after her friends.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #riolu #kirlia #luxio #wartortle #fraxure #charmander #pmd seekers of soul #tesha writes #tesha draws

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months

Text

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 4.2k

summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

warnings: a mild start of a anxiety attack at the beginning, suggestive dancing, stripping, coming untouched, awkward moments, reader's first time at a strip club, unprofessional situations, mutual pining, sexual tension, use of good girl once

a/n: this idea was born whilst we were talking with @fuckyeahdindjarin about stripper!frankie and ofc since both of us are unhinged about a certain cowboy, the conversation steered naturally in the direction of stripper!jack ❤️‍🔥 I'd like to add that I've never been to a strip club and everything here (especially the dances) are born from me watching way too many male stripping tutorials and google searches, so it might not be %1000 authentic buuuuut hopefully it's fun nonetheless!

click for part two of the stripper!jack series

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

Your eyes are glued to the neon sign right above the bar. It flickers a bright pink, then purple, then red. In capital letters, it says: PEEP SHOW, and underneath it there’s a heart and in that, a keyhole.

The music isn’t loud enough to leave you deaf, thankfully. You’re not sure you could’ve handled music blaring from the speakers like you were in a dance club. Make Up Sex by SoMo plays in the background, you gently sway with the rhythm refusing to look at the stage. The thumb of your right-hand traces over the knuckles of your left. You notice the bartender and tear your gaze from the sign.

He stands behind the counter, his presence radiating a magnetic charm. With a physique sculpted to perfection, he possesses an air of rugged masculinity. His hazel eyes hold a captivating depth, and his confident smile hints at a mischievous nature. As he moves with grace and confidence, he threads his fingers through his tousled chestnut hair.

“You look like you might need a drink,” he teases, his smile bright and comforting. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Uh. . . a greyhound please?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he replies, taking a step back as if about to leave. But then, he pauses, leaning in close. His breath gently fans your skin, a rush of excitement flooding your veins. “And just some friendly advice, try to relax. We promise we don’t bite,” he says with a wink and goes off to prepare your drink.

You’re frustrated. Have you truly been that obvious? Who are you kidding— of course you have. You’re alone at a male strip club staring at the neon sign rather than the stage. Of course, they can tell you’re new here. You sigh and look around. The establishment is surprisingly neat. You notice a bachelorette party taking place not that far away from you, they seem to be having fun, screaming as a stripper sways his hips from side to side. He looks good. Chiseled abs, shiny chest, the whole thing shebang.

Your heart sinks into your chest. You hate being alone and you’re so incredibly tired of it. Everyone you know is either busy or doesn’t care enough to spare you even an hour. It’s been two years since your last relationship and you swear the lack of company is eating you alive. It would be fine if you had a couple of distractions, like going out with friends maybe, but that proved to be an impossible ask. You’re not even sure why you’re so bothered. You do a lot of things alone. You enjoy your own company. Yet, for some reason seeing everyone together, having fun is more difficult today compared to other days. Your chest collapses on itself, your pulse quick under your skin.

Suddenly it's very hard to breathe.

You take short, sharp breaths, filling your lungs with the scent of musk and strawberries.

Your chest continues to heave—Shit, are you about to have a panic attack in a freaking strip club? Now that will surely be in your top five most embarrassing moments. Nothing even happened, why are you feeling like this?

“You a’right there darlin’?”

A voice smooth as honey reaches your ears. It curls around your body and keeps you still. Goosebumps flare across your skin, the small hairs that are scattered over the back of your neck standing with attention. Slowly, you turn.

It’s one of the strippers, at least you assume it’s one of the strippers. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, a leather jacket, and some low-hanging jeans. He’s wearing a white mesh top underneath. You find yourself unabashedly gawking at him. You’re not sure how long you stare but you’re hoping it only lasted for a second. And if you’re really lucky, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

In contrast to the other strippers you’ve seen so far, he appears slightly older with a softened stomach, yet possesses a lean physique sculpted by years of dance.

You swallow thickly, forcing your gaze back up. He’s clean-shaven except for a dark mustache, he’s smiling but you see a hint of worry in his gaze. Narrowing your eyes, you notice a small gold sticker in the shape of a star under his right eye.

“I’m. . .” you swallow again and shake your head. You’re dumbfounded. “I’m okay, thanks.”

The bartender places the greyhound you ordered, at the same time the stripper extends a hand, “Whiskey,” he says in a sultry way. You squeeze his hand and raise your eyebrows, your shake is a bit weak.

“Whiskey?” you ask. He lets go of your hand and you bring it to your forehead, nervous laughter escaping you. “Oh, it’s your stage name. Of course.”

His crooked smile is intoxicating, the tip of his tongue moves over his teeth. “My parents would have to hate me to name me ‘whiskey’ sugar,” he answers, rubbing his chin. A moment of silence follows as he thinks, ”Well, my real name ain’t any less embarrassing now that I think about it.”

You want to ask him his real name but end up biting your tongue instead. You can’t ask him that, it would be rude, and even if you did you doubt that he’ll tell you. Pressing your lips tightly together, you drop your gaze to your drink. You curl your fingers around it. The sudden cold against your skin calming you.

“First time?” he asks and you nod. “May I ask why you’re here then, so I can be of service?”

That’s a good question. Why are you here?

“I think to have some fun,” you mutter as you drag your thumb over the cool condensation. “I’m just. . .” you shake your head. “Nevermind, that’s stupid. Let’s just say I’m here to have some fun.”

Whiskey observes you for a moment. His chocolate gaze taking in every detail of your expression. Are all strippers this attentive? you think, heat crawling up your spine. His hand slowly slides over the smooth bar until his fingers are gently resting above your wrist. You suck in a breath. His thumb moves over to the inside of your wrist, tracing the vein that pulses violently.

“How about a private dance?” he asks slowly, as if you might bolt out the doors at any given second. “I promise to entertain you thoroughly, sugar.”

You blink, “Really?” you ask instantly feeling foolish at the question. It’s a service he provides, that you will be paying for, of course he means it. Nonetheless, he seems amused by the question. He grins proudly, crowding your personal space. He tilts his head. Your fingers twitch around the glass and your eyes drop to his lips.

Man, he’s dreamy. You’re starting to understand the appeal of these establishments.

“Really,” he parrots back at you. “Follow me, darlin’.”

With shaky legs, you do.

The private room is a sanctuary tucked away from prying eyes.

Your eyes follow the sumptuous drapes of deep velvet cascading from floor to ceiling. In the center of the room stands a circular stage much smaller compared to the one outside, its surface gleaming. Positioned in the middle of it, a solitary chair, adorned in lavish leather, and next to it a small table with a small remote on top. Whiskey closes the door as you enter and walks with confident steps. You stand awkwardly until he gestures towards the sole seat with his head.

“Take a seat, sweetheart. Get comfortable.”

“O–Okay.”

You’re not aware of how close he is until you take a seat, he immediately follows, dipping low. He curls two thick fingers under your chin and tilts your head up, his gaze searching.

“Tell me if anythin’ starts becomin’ too much, understood?”

“Understood,” you squeak, cheeks growing warm. Without any hesitation, he starts the music. Acquainted by the Weeknd starts playing softly through the speakers. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The way he walks now is different from the way he walked when guiding you here. He saunters over to you, his shoulders rounding as he starts feeling the music moving through him.

He stands in front of you, movements fluid and confident. You’re mesmerized by him. He stalks even closer to you, and you feel the electric heat radiating off of his body. He slides his hands down your arms and you can't help but let out a little gasp.

Whiskey continues to study your expression, He moves with grace and purpose, his body sliding and swaying sensually to the music. His hips rock back and forth in time, seemingly choreographed flawlessly. His hands glide down his body, tracing the contours of his definition before slipping up his torso. His movements are punctuated by smoldering gazes and slow, deliberate breaths. He rolls his shoulders, his leather jacket sliding to his elbows and falling to the floor a beat later. Your mouth waters.

Suddenly, he turns and bends his knees, straddling your thighs. Your gaze drops, turning into saucers as you take in the sight of his tiny little ass. You exhale a sharp breath from your nose, nostrils flaring. He draws circles with his hips, nearly brushing against you but not quite, he gently holds your wrists, placing them in his inner thighs. His touch is feather-like and with two fingers, allowing you the chance to break free if needed. Your skin feels taut over your muscles, sweat building at your tailbone—he’s so close. You don’t even remember the last time you were this close to a man. It’s dizzying.

Whiskey slowly extends his legs and slides your hands up, your fingers skim the apex of his thighs until he’s standing.

Arousal builds between your legs, your lips a tight, thin line.

Your hands are on his crotch.

Oh god, you think you might actually faint. Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious?

Fuck he feels warm under your palms—

Scratch that, he feels big.

He drops down as he rolls his hips, his body slides under your hands like a snake and your fingers move up his chest with the movement, feeling the mesh fabric and the firm chest underneath. Very inappropriately, your nails bite into his skin. If your eyes weren’t glued to this gorgeous man’s back, you would’ve missed the moment his hips stuttered, the smallest grunt echoing from the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” you squeak, fingers twitching.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’, just enjoy the show.”

He stands back up again, guiding your hands down to his hips as he squats low. Before you know it, your hands are resting on his pelvis once more, feeling the underlying heaviness. He grinds forward, hefty bulge filling your palms.

The music fades to the background. His steps in slow motion, he turns and straddles you normally, knees dipping as he raises his arms and grinds his hips towards you. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s so close. With his every move, you can smell the leather coming off of him, it takes you everything not to close your eyes and just inhale his scent. He steers your hands towards his ass, placing them against the firm mounds.

You know that this is a strip show. You know that you’ll be paying him afterward—and tipping him generously.

But, fuck, the way he’s looking at you shouldn’t be allowed. Something dark swirling in them, something ravenous. His smile is knowing, teasing, like he can read your mind and it’s unnerving. How does anyone leave this strip club not being a mess for this man?

His fingers delicately trace the column of your neck, moving over to your shoulder and coming back. He’s observing you, eyes fixed on you as he searches for any kind of discomfort. Then he gradually wraps his hand around your neck. There’s no pressure and it feels slightly ticklish.

He moves closer in tune with the music, his lips brush against your neck, your nipples tightening at the touch. He takes your hands and guides them up his chest and broad shoulders. His lips are barely touching yours and you can feel his softly blowing breath. He thrusts his hips, clothed cock nearly touching your chest, suddenly you’re holding your breath wishing nothing more than his touch. His ass flexes under your hand, firm and warm.

Till this point, you were trying really hard to ignore how wet you’ve gotten. Subtly, you’re moving your hips, trying to add pressure to your throbbing clit. The wet fabric of your underwear grazes against the bundle of nerves, dipping between your wet folds. Your chest heaves and you swallow down a whimper. It’s been so fucking long since you’ve felt anything like this. Tension curls around your thighs and moves up to your stomach, arousal heavy between your legs. He must be used to this right? You can’t be the only one to get this worked up.

Even if Whiskey does notice your weak attempts at relief, he doesn’t say anything.

All your senses narrow on him as he kneels in front of you, the music dropping with him. With a wink, he takes your hands and guides them down his chest while leaning back to sit on his heels. Your hands slide down his torso, once again just shy in touching his length. With a body roll, he comes back up and grips the armrests of your chair, popping up into a bridge position. Your thighs are spread and he drops his head low, you swear you feel his breath on you before he slithers up again, lips nearly brushing the valley of your breasts. His face is an inch away from yours, only charm. He tilts his head, coming in closer as if he’s about to kiss you, then moves away again.

You’re mortified when you find yourself instinctively chasing after his lips.

He hums, the sound barely audible over the music, his smile never fades, “Good girl,” he mutters as his hands slide down to gently grip the back of your thighs.

You’ve never been more aware of not touching someone in your life.

Whiskey pushes himself closer and lifts your legs. Despite the clothes that separate the two of you, you feel the sinewy fabric of muscle hidden underneath as your legs frame his narrow hips. He presses closer, positioning his length against you. You feel it. His cock throbbing and aching under those tight, tight pants. Your throat moves, the muscles in your jaw clenched. He grazes one hand up and up and up until the width of it rests over your hip.

He continues his grinding, his jeans rubbing tantalizingly against your inner thighs. You feel his hardness through the thin fabric separating you; all you can think is how good it feels to have him there. His hands rub lazily across your hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Whiskey's hands snake up your sides, his fingers weaving through the flesh of your waist. His pelvis moves rhythmically against yours, each thrust accompanied by a low moan that you’re desperately trying to bite down.

“You seem tense darlin’,” his breath is hot and heavy in your ear as he gently nibbles the sensitive lobe, tantalizing you further. “Could see it in your eyes as soon as I spotted you alone at the bar. Let go, sweetheart. It’ll be our little secret,” His hips sway in and out, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel your breath catch and become labored, is—is he actually suggesting what you think he’s suggesting?

God, you just don’t have it in you to care anymore. You’re too worked up, every touch feels doubled with the way he moves, smiles, and looks at you.

You can’t help but relax into his motions. He moves slower, teasing you as he coaxes your inevitable fall. He builds you up, and normally, you would bask in the relief that he would tear you apart soon enough—but the thing is. . . you two aren’t actually having sex. There’s a very high chance the build-up would last forever, that is, until the time was up. You’re being edged in the best way possible but you fear you might have a hearty breakdown if you can’t, as how he put it; “let go”.

He must’ve sensed your worries because for the first time, his smile falters, brows furrowing with concentration. His eyes flit over yours briefly before cupping your chin and raising your head. You expect him to say something, anything—maybe call you his good girl again—but nothing escapes those lush lips. Your eyes drop to the divot of his bottom lip and he leans closer, cock fully moving over your puffy clit. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek. Your stomach bottoms out, there’s a faint buzzing in your ears as the pressure in you grows and grows until you feel it in the back of your eyes.

Fuck—Are you about to come?

Nonononononono—

Your body spasms in pleasure, an orgasm building from deep within you as the music and his body surround you. He smells of pine and leather and the scent assaults your lungs. Your insides begin to clench and your muscles carry on a delirious dance of its own as warmth starts to spread in waves throughout your body. Your toes curl and every nerve ending in your body is brought alive. You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath quickens. You swallow down all the noises that threaten to spill out. All you can think of is how embarrassing this is, your cheeks are left burning, your orgasm washing over you in large waves against your better judgment.

Whiskey barely slows, still rolling his hips with the guide of the slowing song. He does pull back eventually and you’re grateful for it. The inside of your mouth is dry, your eyes watered, the inside of your panties soaked.

“S-Shit,” you whisper. “I’m . . . I’m—”

He lets out a content sigh, if anything, he seems delighted by the whole ordeal.

“Like I said darlin’,” he rasps, breath ghosting your lips. “This will be our little secret.”

The music ends and you know your time is up.

Hanging out at a strip club isn’t actually as mortifying as you thought it would be.

After your first encounter with Whiskey, you thought you would never step into the glitter and glam of the club ever again. However, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself at the door once more. The bartender, who later introduced himself as Tequila, greeted you enthusiastically, and from that point on, you became a regular.

Despite being a regular, names were still off-limits, and you didn't mind. Everyone was entitled to their privacy, and it made it all the more special for the time when Whiskey might eventually reveal his real name, if that day ever came. You're still not sure where you stand exactly on the spectrum between being a customer and a friend.

You could never afford another private dance though, at least not if you wanted to have enough money for food this month. Nevertheless, you were content with just watching the performances, and seeing Whiskey entertain endless bachelorette and bachelor parties was always a delight.

And hey, surprisingly, Tequila made some killer iced coffees, which you greatly appreciated since you weren't the biggest drinker and a bit of a lightweight. The last thing you wanted was to get drunk with Whiskey around, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough. However, he was a man of his word. He never mentioned the incident that took place during his performance. In fact, he behaved as if it never happened. For a minute there, you even thought that maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

However, there were moments when he would simply give you a certain look, and in that instant, you knew for certain that he did remember.

“Here you go gorgeous,” Tequila says, pulling you from your thought as he places an iced coffee in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you see whipped cream with a lavish cherry on top. 'Is there a special occasion I'm not aware of?'

He shrugs, “I was bored, it’s a slow night.”

Thanking him, you turn in your seat. It was a slow night, with only a handful of people present. There was a couple seeking a good time and a couple of corporate-looking ladies. Whiskey was entertaining one of them, employing his Southern charm as he winked at the woman and tipped his hat. Over the passing days, you had come to recognize his dance choreography. It seemed he genuinely enjoyed what he was doing, which made you happy in return.

Sometimes you do wish you had met the man outside of these walls though. You can’t fight the longing you feel whenever you see him. Other than being ridiculously attractive —and knowing how to make a woman come without touching them— he was kind to you that day. He saw how miserable you were and tried to cheer you up. Sure, you were a customer, but still, he didn’t have to go the extra mile.

You often thought about meeting him at a supermarket or something instead. Would he be as kind? Would he be as attentive? Maybe he wouldn’t even give you a second glance as he buys a box of cereal—you frown, when you think about it like that, maybe meeting him in a strip club wasn’t that bad after all.

Whiskey's dance comes to an end and you have to fight every fiber of your being not to eat him with your eyes like a hungry, horny, wolf. You try to look disinterested, eyes moving to one of the other dancers. It’s too late though, his gaze catches your own. He smiles as he struts towards you.

“How are you sweetheart?” he asks, pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Is Tequila here treatin’ you well?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You grin, gesturing to the whipped cream and cherry on top, as if it's obvious. His eyes drop to the fruit, glistening and wet. Without waiting for you to say anything, he picks up the fruit by the stem and sticks his tongue out. He catches the cherry with his lips, slowly drawing it into his mouth, and you watch, transfixed, as he chews. His jaw works over the cherry, then, a moment later, he shows you his tongue once more.

On the tip of it, lays a neatly knotted stem.

“Holy hell,” you whisper. “I should be mad because I was looking forward to that cherry but I’m too impressed.”

With two fingers Whiskey calls for Tequila, “Get the pretty lady another cherry,” he says.

“Show off,” the other man mutters but complies anyway. A quick moment later, there’s another cherry on a bed of white.

You eye him warily, “You’re not gonna eat this one too, are you?”

He laughs, “No darlin’. Don’t worry, enjoy your overly sweetened fruit.”

Still not trusting him, holding it by the stem, you stick the cherry between your lips and quickly chew. He draws his brows together, “No show?”

“If I was that talented with my tongue I wouldn’t be single.”

“There’s more to relationships than a good tongue,” he answers. “I would know.”

He’s single?

You don’t know why the revelation shocks you, but it does. You didn’t want to assume anything based on his career choice and by personality alone, you didn’t really think he would be in the same boat as you.

“You can act a little less surprised you know,” he teases, leaning against the bar with a curled lip.

“S-Sorry, I just never thought you would be single you’re just so. . .” cutting yourself off, you press your lips together. He leans closer, teasing smile now shifting into a full toothy grin.

“So. . . what?” he asks. His finger dips into the whipped cream, and he brings it to his lips, his deep gaze never leaving yours as he sucks it off slowly. “Dazzling, charming, talented?”

Your throat goes dry and you have to swallow, “Well yes, all of those and. . . handsome.”

“Compliments don’t get you a free dance, sweetheart,” he winks. “Just sayin’.”

Your lips quiver, a hesitant smile curving your lips. Your cheeks warm under his gaze.

Talking to him comes easy to you. You also enjoy his confidence, he knows he’s good looking and he doesn’t shame you for stating it, or make you feel less of a person for admitting. It’s freeing. Maybe that’s why you’re always visiting the club. He grants you a place to just be yourself, even if he does so intentionally or not, you appreciate it.

“You, giving out a free dance?” you exaggerate every word, you mirror his movement and stick two fingers in the whipped cream. You bring them to your lips, savoring the sweetness. It’s subtle, but you catch the way his breath hitches. Your smile grows. “I never would expect such a thing.”

“Good,” his voice drops dangerously low, almost sounding like a growl. Inching closer, his breath fans the side of your neck and you feel the rough scrape of his mustache against the shell of your ear. A whimper rattles your throat. “I would hate to be misunderstood.”

He pulls back with a wink, he flashes you his canines, and drags his tongue over them. “See you around, sunshine,” he says, voice returning to normal. The words die in your throat as he disappears towards the back, presumably to get ready for his next show.

You’re left staring, mouth agape. Flustered, you stir your iced coffee to feel the soothing sound of ice clanking around.

You frown when you realize all the ice had melted.

Thank you for reading everyone! This one definitely tuckered me out but I think it ended up not being that bad?

Normally this was always going to be a two-parter but then the first part ended up being way longer than I intended (almost 8k) so I decided to split it into two chapters since didn't want it to be too long. Therefore, this little series will be three parts in total. I've written most of chapter two since it was meant to be a part of chapter one so it'll be out relatively quick!

That's it for now, sending everyone love and many hugs 💜

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x female!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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sp1nxx · 7 months

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Who fell first vs Who fell Harder// 𝐌𝐡𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬

A/N!!- Hi everyone!! This is my first official post! I’m kinda nervous ,:) but hopefully I wont get too discouraged!! This might not be the most in cannon but I tried my best (=^ ◡ ^=) Wish me luck! Also if it’s requested I’ll make a pt.2 to this

𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚

He fell first, you fell harder

It’s not too surprising he ended up falling for you. You’re heroic, brave, and over all a very sweet person at heart. While he recognizes your a bit rough around the edges, he knows not everyone is perfect and if anything he loves you more because of your flaws and vulnerabilities. He adores seeing you light up when he brings you snacks you enjoy, or when someone brings up something you enjoy. The way you could be holding a conversation with someone but be immediately pulled away when you see a cute animal and the big smile you have while watching said animal is one he’ll cherish.

And just how it’s not surprising he fell for you, it’s definitely not surprising that you fell for him. He’s sweet, caring, considerate and probably the walking definition of a green flag. He goes out of his way to accommodate you if you happen to need it. He brings you snacks or water if you ask, anything you need. He was the first person to get you out of your shell and make you feel comfortable enough to be yourself and he taught you to embrace things you previously didn’t like before. He was a light for your life whom you cherished. So no, it wasn’t surprising when you fell hard for Izuku.

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨

You fell first, he fell harder

Who wouldn’t be at least somewhat drawn to him? He has such a commanding presence it’s hard not to notice him. He’s tenacious, determined, and he doesn’t back down from anything. While he’s very rough around the edges and will probably end up yelling so loud your eardrums explode, you’ve seen how big of a heart he has. His soft side is there, it’s just past his temper and the defenses he put up in an attempt to keep everyone out. But you’re willing to go around that to reach his heart.

Katsuki doesn’t “fall” for people. If anything, he prides himself on not being hung up on lovely dovey crap. Katsuki Bakugo falling for people was unprecedented until he met you. At first he didn’t think much of you if we’re being honest. You were just another extra he’d easily get ahead of on his way to becoming the number one hero. But you were one of the first people to check on him and ask if he was okay after he got kidnapped. Sure, he dismissed you but the worry in your voice stuck in his mind, along with the concerned and caring look in your eyes. That’s probably what made him fall for you in the first place, you cared. It pissed him off to no end, because he didn’t like the idea of getting all mushy and having to deal with those dumb feelings, but there’s no denying that you stole his heart.

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢

He fell first and he fell harder

Shoto is obviously a complicated person. At first you were honestly a bit intimidated by him when school first started. He was quiet and while obviously he had compassion and wouldn’t do anything against you on purpose, his general aura unsettled you; especially during the sports festival. After the sports festival though, he changed. You couldn’t put your finger on it but he definitely changed, and he changed for the better. He seemed calmer, more approachable and his eyes seemed kinder, he even smiled more. He was more talkative to, making an effort to get into conversation with you and always wanting to include you in things. You noticed his change, and it drew you in

Like Bakugo, Shoto didn’t really think much of you at first. He would be cordial if you tried to talk with him, but he made it obvious he wasn’t really interested in you. And he appreciated the fact you seemed to pick up on his disinterest and gradually talked to him less. After the sports festival though, something about you changed to him. You had come up to him to congratulate him on his 2nd placing and you smiled at him. Over his time at school he noticed you weren’t the type to smile much, at least the smile you gave him wasn’t one he’d seen often; it seemed brighter, and reached your eyes more. When you smiled something in his chest swelled and he decided to make more of an effort to talk to you again. Over time he realized everything you did took his breath away, he was hanging on to every word you said, hoping you’d look his way and smile. Because you were the reason he could smile so often now.

#mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #izuku midoria x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff

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heavenlyysstuff · 3 months

Text

A Foreign Feeling. 2

NETEYAM.s x fem! metkayina! reader

summary . after yesterdays events, you and Neteyam set off on a search for shells beyond the reef. You stay out a little longer than intended.

a/n . again, you don’t have to listen to the song I linked, I simply just like to put songs that I think fit the story’s vibe into the fic. thanks for all the support!

part 1 . part 2

♪˖ now playing .

all the stars . ( SZA ) ⊹.

Early in the morning, where the sky presented shades of pink and blue, you set off towards the Sully’s marui to collect Neteyam.

You’d gotten used to waking up this early, enjoying the hues of the sky and the coolness of the sea, you’d be happy to share it with Neteyam.

With a small bounce in your stride you quietly greet some hunters that pass, seemingly on their way out for some early morning hunting.

Unknown to you, a few hunters crane their necks back around as you pass, smirking to themselves at the thought of who you were off to see this early.

The whispers amongst them are silent to your ears, your mind already occupied with a certain someone.

It’s safe to assume most of the Sully family is still asleep, they probably would have no reason to be up at this time. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to wake Neteyam.

And your thoughts are cut to and end as you approach the Sully’s marui, a familiar figure sat outside with his legs dipped into the water.

“Good morning, Neteyam.” You speak while walking to stand next to him, keeping your voice at a quiet volume as to not disturb the rest of his sleeping family.

His ears perk up instantly, and he almost turns his whole body around to face you, but quickly calms down and just looks up at you. He inhales. “Good morning, y/n.” Immediate exhale, as if he had been preparing to say the words the second he woke up.

Your eyes scrunch as a smile reaches your face, but your expression turns to one of anxiousness. “I hope you weren’t waiting here too long, and sorry… I never really specified on the time, that was my bad.”

Neteyam doesn’t seem to be too disappointed though, in fact he looks a whole lot more bright after your appearance. “No, no it’s fine, I uh— I woke up awhile ago.” His eyes continuously flicker from your own to the ground as he talks.

With another smile placed on your face you make your way around him, “should we get to the ilu then?”

He scrambles to stand, “yea- okay.” His tail sways low behind him, and he freezes when he hears your quiet laugh as you walk away, a heat rushing to his face.

He mindlessly follows like a lost child.

The sounds of the ocean clashing against itself further relaxes you, and you take a saddle from the rack provided.

“You don’t mind riding with me, right?” You kneel down and start calling out to your ilu.

He abruptly turns to you, “oh, no. No it’s fine… it’s good.” coughing after his words.

“Okay good.” You speak while adjusting the saddle on your ilu. “I wouldn’t want to get separated outside the reef.”

“Yea…” Neteyam’s words slip out involuntarily as he becomes distracted by your attire of the day. It’s beautiful, no doubt. And he somehow feels a little special at the sight of a new outfit on your form as he dives into the cool water.

Once he rises to the surface a shaky exhale leaves him, his breath becomes quick and he sets his gaze upon you who is sat comfortably on your ilu. “It’s so cold.” He states the obvious.

You give him a pitiful smile as your shoulders raise in a silent laugh. “You get used to it.” With that you offer a hand out towards him.

He grasps your hand, but not once breaking his eye contact til he has to.

And now as you both sit on the ilu, Neteyam finds himself contemplating on where he should rest his hands. He would rest them on your waist like any other passenger would, but then again, it’s you.

The girl who had him looking through crowds just to find that certain pair of pretty eyes. The girl who had welcomed him and his family into the clan with no hesitation.

The girl he looked forward to seeing everyday. Who made his mornings a little more brighter.

Such sappy thoughts as he’s sat directly behind you, and it seems his mind had drifted so far that he didn’t realise his own hands, that had already made themselves comfortable around your waist as you direct your ilu out of the reef.

“I’m sorry for making you get up so early, you probably had plans today.” You speak your thoughts aloud, but thing is, Neteyam had cleared his whole schedule for you. Not that he had much planned at all, he had just let his parents know he’d be out for the morning, and they surprisingly didn’t ask for any specific details about his whereabouts.

He snaps out of it, again. “You don’t need to be sorry, I didn’t have anything to do anyways.” He’s pleased as your smile comes back on to your face as he peers out to see your side profile. “And I wanted to come.”

It had been awhile as the two of you continuously dived and surfaced through the water, looking for the best shells. at least, that was the case for you.

Neteyam had forced himself to hold his breath longer than he had practiced for, all to see your form glide through the oceans current.

He admired your movements, this time up close.

The way your hair had moved like silk through the water, and the way your body moved with the direction of the sea.

Once again he needs a breath, he quickly swims up towards the surface with the help of your ilu.

He gasps once he had reached the surface, but wastes no second to quickly plunge his head back underwater to locate you, who had began swimming up towards him.

You surface without so much as a sigh for air. “Are you alright?”

He hates the burning feeling down his throat, the result of accidentally swallowing some of the water when he was to distracted by you. “Yea, sorry I just— I need to practice breathing more, I guess.”

You giggle, and a thought enters your head. “Wait here a second.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly. He gives a shy smile.

You dive underwater once again, this time looking for a specific creature.

After a few moments of being underwater searching, you now come across what you had been looking for, quickly taking it and making your way back to Neteyam.

Once you surface, his head immediately snaps to you, then to the creature in your hands. “What it that?”

“It will help you breathe. You need to make the bond.” You reply and wait for him to connect to the creature, he does so hesitantly but surely. After that was done, you reach around his shoulders to place the creature comfortably on his back. “Now you can stay underwater longer with me.”

His eyes rest on your hands that remain on his shoulders, then back to you. Swallowing before he speaks, “good.”

Your eyes scan over his, what is visible, form before slowly tracing your hand from his shoulder down to his hand.. “Let’s go.” Another warm smile on your face, contagious, as it makes Neteyam smile even bigger.

You guide him by the hand, diving underwater and he follows with no hesitation, your fingers still intertwined.

The sun from above you, casted a shadow to form below you. The both of you look down, waving at your own shadows playfully.

You continue to take him deeper until the two of you are down next to the coral and other various sea life.

‘Let’s look for shells together.’ You sign, detaching your hands.

He looks confused for a moment. In his time of being here in the village, he only learnt some of the underwater language that you and Tsireya had taught him. He followed your hands as they moved… let’s… shells…together? He got the gist of what you’d were communicating, and he nods as a reply.

You take his hand once more, prompting him to follow you as you swim just above the oceans floor, occasionally brushing through it to find any hidden jewels.

While focused on your search, Neteyam finds himself looking at a different type of jewel.

In a way, your skin reminded him of the rich minerals he sometimes found in the caves back at home, a glowing blue that was even prettier under the water.

He also finds himself tightening his grip on your hand, just slightly. It almost goes unnoticed.

With your thumb, you rub his knuckles softly, and he can’t help but blush at the realisation of him being caught.

The two of you had searched the nearby sea top to bottom, occasionally going back up to the surface to breathe and share some words.

Neteyam hated the communication barrier he had with you underwater, and he promises himself that when the next lesson came, he’d try extra hard to get all the signs memorised.

The day continues with the two of you swimming through the water as it slowly got darker, not that either of your had noticed.

You had both found some beautiful shells, and once your hands got full you would put them in the bag that was attached to your ilu’s saddle.

Going through every crevice of the coral and searching every inch of sand, sometimes riding your ilu to go to another location, you both grew tired of the swimming, and you point upwards towards the surface as Neteyam follows.

You both gasp for the air, and quickly open your eyes to find each other. After calling your ilu, it’s then when the both of you realise the time.

The orange and pink hues in the sky indicate it’s soon night. You look at Neteyam, and he looks at you. You both start to laugh at the realisation. You had been out together all day.

“I…” your own giggle stops you for a moment, “sorry I didn’t mean to keep you out this long.”

His own laugh becomes louder, biting his lip to calm down, “no it’s alright. I had a lot of fun.” He climbs his way to sit behind you on your ilu, this time not hesitating to slide his hands around your waist as you guide your ilu underwater back to the village.

While the occasional times the two of you are above the water, you converse about all the shells you found, the topic soon changed though.

“Think we can make it back without our parents making a fuss?” You ponder aloud, momentarily looking behind you to find his gaze.

“No way.” He says, “but it’s worth it.”

“Why’s that?” A puzzled expression is put on your face.

“Because I got to spend time with you.”

Oh? He seemed to be getting more confident with his words, todays events made him more comfortable around you, and you love every second of it.

Shutting your eyes for a second and trying to hold back a smile you speak again. “I liked spending time with you as well.”

You had finally returned back to Awa’atlu. You wait until Neteyam climbed off of the ilu and stood onto the woven platform just above the sea. He reaches a hand out to help you lift yourself up next to him.

Once you had the bag of shells you both collected, and taken the saddle off your ilu, it was time to take yourself and Neteyam back home.

“I’ll walk you home.” You speak as you place the saddle back onto its place on the rack amongst others.

His tails swishes in contemplation. “You don’t mind?”

“No, of course not.”

He hums in appreciation, nodding his head downwards slightly as a sign of respect. The two of you begin walking to Neteyams home.

“We found a lot of good ones today, but I think it’s too much to go through today. So maybe we should take another day to go through it all together.” You state as your hand remains firm on the strap of the bag, “that way we both get an even amount, and you could make some jewellery for your family… if you’d like.”

He brightens up for the umpteenth time that day, the thought of being graced with your presence for another day bringing him to a peaceful mind space. “Yea, definitely. I’m free whenever so, just come over and we can go wherever you’d like.”

Your smile at his words immediately makes his knees feel weak, his heart also speeding up, not that anyone would notice of course.

“Here we are.” You stop a few feet from the entrance to his home. Neteyam snaps out of his trance and is brought back to reality.

“Ah.” He acknowledges, also noting the presence of his whole family inside the marui. “Thank you.” He turns his back to his family to continue conversing with you. “For today I mean, I don’t think I’ve gotten out alot since I got here.” He admits with a shy smile.

“Well, now you’ve got someone who will show you everything.” You reply sweetly, “I promise you ,I’ll take you everywhere on this island.”

Neteyam is stuck by your sincerity, completely in awe. “Sounds like a plan.” He’s starting to look forward to his life in this new environment.

You huff out a short giggle before you remember where you should be, “it’s getting late, I should get back home.” As much as you hate to leave him, it has to be done.

He hums from half disappointment and half understanding. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.” He takes a glance over your whole form before you had to leave.

“See you, Neteyam.” You wave while you start to head back towards your own home.

He finds himself stood there for a prolonged moment, staring at your retreating form before the voices of his family inside the marui bring him back.

Once inside, he’s immediately stopped upon noticing the silence as he enters, he looks up from the floor, only to find his whole family sat in some form of a circle, staring at him.

His own face turns to one of confusion, raising his brow sassily.

He quickly noticed his fathers smirk, but all attention is put to Lo’ak when he bursts out laughing.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Kiri jabs at him with her finger, also trying to shush tuk as she begins giggling.

Lo’ak gets a few words out in between laughs “well that answers our question.” That’s when his father starts to slip out a few of his own chuckles.

Among all the chaos of the fits of laughter, his mothers voice is what silences it. “Where have you been Neteyam?” She stands up and walks out of the circle towards her son.

“Sorry I— I’ve been out with y/n all day.” No point in making an excuse, especially with his mother.

“All day?” What have you been doing?” She’s quick with her questions and wants all details.

Neteyam gets a little quieter at the tone of his mothers voice. “She asked if I wanted to find shells with her.”

Neytiri softens at her sons tone, and suddenly is pushing his hair off his shoulders, then holding it all back with her hand making it look like he has a ponytail.

She scans for no longer than five seconds before releasing the boys hair. “Just tell someone where you are next time.” She speaks, and then backs off to finish off preparing diner.

Neteyam had watched as him mother left him be, and for a moment he thought he saw a smile on her face.

“Come sit, you’re probably hungry.” She insists once she had realised the fish is now done.

He smiles, and walks towards the circle to sit between his brother and littlest sister, Tuk.

As Neytiri handed out the food, and everyone making conversation of some type, Lo’ak leans a little closer to his older brother, a sly smirk on his face. “So you and y/n huh?

Neteyam pushes his face away with the palm of his hand, “shut up, bro.” He could deny that, but there’s no denying the smile he had on his face the rest of that night.

#neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam #neteyam #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #atwow x reader #fluff #atwow

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atlabeth · 11 months

Text

leave the door open - anthony lockwood

summary: no matter what happens, there's always the light underneath the door. the sign that, when you're ready, he'll let you back in with open arms.

a/n: obviously inspired by leave the door open by silk sonic because i could (and have) listen to it on repeat for hours. this spiraled way out of control but im honestly really happy with it and i hope you all are too!

wc: 8.2k

warning(s): mild angst, arguing, hurt/comfort, mildly serious injury, short scene with a gun/gunshot wound, but the whole first half of the fic is fluff and it is all wrapped up w a fluffy ending

127.

128.

129.

13–

Your focus was broken as police sirens blared past your window, and you let out a long-lasting sigh. This was the fifth time your count had been interrupted, and you weren’t starting over again.

Trying to sleep was a fruitless endeavor at this point, and that wasn’t going to change no matter how many notches in the wall you counted—you might as well accept it.

You’d never been much for sleeping through the night, but your new home boded worse for it all. A new room, a new house, a new city, a new agency. Being in the thick of it all after what felt like so long on your own was overwhelming, and it still felt like it could all fall apart. Being given the job all because you passed a few tests in the living room didn’t exactly feel like security.

You sighed as you slipped on a sweatshirt and walked out of the attic— your room, at least for now— carefully moving down the steps in an effort to not make much noise.

35 Portland Row was filled with warmth, that much was obvious from your short time here, but that warmth had not yet penetrated your skin. It was all too foreign.

You meant to go to the kitchen and make a midnight cup of tea, but your eyes were drawn to a slightly open door, light spilling out in the cracks. The library, if you remembered correctly from Lockwood’s tour.

It must have been George. You didn’t know much about him, but the way Lockwood described him certainly made him seem like the type to be up pouring over books until the early hours of the morning.

It wouldn’t hurt to say hi. Let him know that they’d added another restless soul into their agency.

You pushed the door open a bit more, knocking on the wall as you leaned against the door frame, and your eyebrows rose slightly when the boy looked up.

“Lockwood,” you said, tamping down on your surprise.

He said your name with a slight smile and a bow of his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You nodded. “Have you got room for one more?”

“Always,” he said with a gesture at the seat across from him.

You closed the door behind you and took the offered chair, glancing down at the papers in front of him. “What’s got you up?”

“Bills,” he said dryly. “The mortgage, the utilities, our certification, and now—” he looked at you— “another agent on the payroll.”

“I’ll be sure to try and bring in more than you spend on me,” you said, and he smiled as he set his pen down.

“How thoughtful.” Lockwood laced his fingers together before he leveled his gaze fully at you. “And what’s got you up?”

“Just what I said,” you answered with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t gotten used to this place yet.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t take too long, because you’re going to hit the ground running,” Lockwood said. “We’ve got a meeting tomorrow with a client, and if all goes well we’ll be having tea with a Visitor by noon.”

“Honestly, that would make me feel like I fit in more,” you said. “I’m much better with the ‘nearly dying’ part of this job than the settling in part.”

He cracked a small smile. “I’m hoping we’ll avoid that part, especially with your help.”

Your eyebrows rose. “You’ve got that much faith in me?”

“I assumed you knew the amount of faith I have in you when I hired you,” Lockwood joked. “Your Touch is just what we’ve been missing.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” you said. “There’s always uncertainty about freelance agents because we work on our own, but I promise I’ll try my best to merge back into a group.”

“Like I said,” Lockwood’s eyes twinkled, “I’ve got full faith in you.”

You chuckled and nodded, and you tapped the desk before you stood up. “I’ll leave you to your devices. Thank you for the talk, Lockwood.”

“Try and get some sleep,” Lockwood said. “After all, tomorrow is when you prove yourself.”

“Ah,” you said sagely. “Tomorrow will determine whether I have a job or I’m back on the streets.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he said, and he looked wholly genuine. “You’re part of Lockwood & Co now, and we take care of our own.”

You nodded, your lips quirking into a small smile. It had been a long time since someone had so clearly said to you that they would watch out for you— that they saw you as more than just your Touch.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

Lockwood nodded, his expression turning slightly wry. “Besides, the only real reason I think I’d fire you is if you got us all killed.”

“You can’t fire me if we’re all dead.”

“I suppose that means you’re thoroughly employed,” Lockwood said with a smile.

You chuckled. “Good to know.”

“Truly, though, try and get some sleep.” He picked up his pen again, clicking it a few times. “We might be London’s smallest agency, but we take cases the likes of Fittes would handle.”

“As long as you try and get some too,” you said.

Lockwood smiled, but there was a notable absence of a promise. “Goodnight.”

“Are you always in the library?” you asked suddenly. “Because I— I find myself awake a lot at night. It would be nice to know when you’re open to chat and when you just want to be alone.”

He nodded. “I’ll leave the door open for you. Just like tonight.”

You stared at him for a moment more, taking in his slightly ruffled hair, his undone tie and rolled up sleeves. The dark circles under his eyes.

“Perfect,” you responded softly. “Goodnight, Lockwood.”

"Goodnight," he repeated, that same small smile on his lips.

You closed the door behind you.

You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

It was another two weeks until your next sleepless night.

Kept busy with countless cases, you were exhausted near every time you stumbled back through the doors of Portland Row. Part of it was from adjusting back into an agency after being on your own for so long, the other part was the seriously intense jobs that Lockwood kept taking.

And you did adjust, that was true.

You didn’t know if you and George were exactly friends, but he allowed you to help when he cleaned up in the kitchen, and you’d already spent a few afternoons in the archives together—today had been the best, him sharing all the material he found with you and willing to listen to your theories and look at your notes. He was warming up to you, at least.

Lockwood was completely different. He exuded charm, all easy smiles and plying words meant to get someone’s guard down. It was how he operated, how he had to live—everyone underestimated him so he took it upon himself to prove everyone wrong. His name was on the door, after all, as he liked to remind you all.

Maybe that was why he was always up, you thought, because as you slowly moved down the stairs, rubbing grogginess out of your eyes, you noticed that the light was on in the library again. Door slightly cracked open.

You huffed a laugh before you knocked on the frame again, pushing it open to see Lockwood in almost the exact same position as last time. Instead of a variety of papers, though, he was hunched over a map.

He said your name, a small smile already pulling at his lips. “So we meet again.”

“We live in the same house,” you said wryly, “and we work together.”

“All the more reason to be thankful that you put up with me past billing hours,” Lockwood said. You chuckled, and he gestured at the chair across from him. “Take a seat.”

You did, and you tapped your fingers on the table before you took a look at the map. “What’s got you up so late?”

“I’m scouting out a potential job,” he said. “A very old, very haunted mansion owned by a very rich family.”

“I like the sound of that,” you mused.

“So do I.” That spark was in his eye again, and you found yourself watching him as he talked. “The patriarch called me last night, and I met with him and his wife while you and George were at the archives today. He offered the job of clearing his ancestral home, and I told him I would get back to him after I consulted my colleagues.”

“Colleagues,” you hummed. “I like the sound of that too.”

Lockwood chuckled. “I thought after freelancing for so long you would be against working so closely with a team.”

You shrugged. “I needed a change. You lot have been a pretty good one.”

“It’s certainly an honor,” Lockwood said with mock austerity, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Just get on with it, Lockwood.”

He nodded, and he pushed the map over to you. “I was going to lay it all out for you two tomorrow morning, but since you’re here, I might as well get your opinion on it.”

You took a moment to fully examine it. “Well, it’s certainly very big.” You glanced back up at Lockwood. “How much are they willing to pay?”

He smiled. “Fifty thousand pounds.”

Your eyes about burst out of your head, and you slid the map back over to him. “That’s all I need to hear. I’m in.”

Lockwood laughed and he took it back from you. “You don’t even know anything else about it. You could be walking into a death trap.”

“Every job I did on my own was a possible death trap, and none of them were for fifty thousand pounds,” you said. “I’m in—I don’t care if half of England is haunting that house.”

His smile faded a bit, and he cleared his throat as he looked you in the eye. “You know, you haven't talked much about why you were a freelance agent. Even during the interview.”

Your brows furrowed at the sudden question and you shrugged. “I wanted to be.”

“Everyone knows it’s a lot more dangerous than being in an agency,” Lockwood said. “Ghosts are hard enough to deal with in a group— going on your own is asking for trouble.”

“Before I came in, it was just you and George,” you countered. “You’ve got no supervisors, just the two of you hoping for the best. I’d say that’s asking for trouble.”

“You’re deflecting,” Lockwood said.

You glanced away, finally letting out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair.

“You don’t have to—”

“Because from the moment I discovered my Talent, I’ve heard horror stories from agencies. Entire teams going down on doomed missions, sole survivors left to live with the guilt for the rest of their lives. It happened to one of the teams in my agency, and I knew I wasn’t going to wait for it to happen to me.”

Lockwood’s eyes softened, and he stayed silent as you continued.

“I have no team, I have no roommates—when I’m on my own, no one has to worry about me,” you said quietly. “If something goes wrong, and I die, that’s it. No guilt, no problems, no legal trouble. No mourners.”

Lockwood frowned. “That’s not a very good way to look at it.”

“Never said it was,” you said wryly. “It’s just the way I look at it.”

“Your family would care.”

You shook your head. “They wouldn’t.”

He was silent for a good moment, and then he reached over and took your hand. It was a shock at first, your eyes widening slightly as they darted up to meet his, but he was calm as ever.

“You’ve got us now,” he said. “Lockwood & Co. Me and George. And we’d care very much if you were to die, so I’d appreciate it if you refrained from that.”

That got a watery laugh out of you, and you felt the beginnings of tears behind your eyes for some reason. “I don’t think that was in my contract.”

“It was in the fine print,” Lockwood assured. He looked so much younger when he smiled, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“That changes everything then.” Your voice was slightly stilted as you pulled away, and you turned slightly as you wiped at your eyes so he couldn’t see. If Lockwood noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Try and get some sleep,” he murmured. “If George is on board, we’ve got a very long day tomorrow.”

You nodded, clearing your throat as you stood up. “You too. Can’t go into battle without our fearless leader.”

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes never leaving you as you walked to the door. You paused, setting your hand on the frame, and turned around.

“Thank you, Lockwood,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I mean it.”

He smiled, and you found yourself lost in it for a moment. He really was beautiful. “Any time.”

And so your days continued on as a certified member of Lockwood & Co, becoming more integrated by the hour.

It wasn’t much longer before George took to you, and when you found a break in a case that saved you hours of potential digging through the archives, your spot as ‘respected colleague and potential friend’ was cemented.

Lockwood already knew more about you than most, putting him in the ‘weird friend, weird boss’ category. The man literally never slept, and all the information he knew about you was willingly given to him through late night vulnerability. You needed to start forcing yourself to stay in bed, if not solely to keep some secrets between you.

But— yeah, he was nice. Easy to joke around with, easy to work with, easy on the eyes. You’d smiled and laughed more in a single month at Portland Row than you had in three years as a freelance agent. Far better than the lonely studio apartment you holed up in between cases.

The warmth was beginning to penetrate your skin, you thought with a slight smile.

“What in the world are you doing?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice. You looked up from the baking sheet to see Lockwood waiting in the doorway with a small smile.

“Stress baking,” you said with a slight chuckle as you continued scooping dough onto the tray.

“At two in the morning?”

You shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and extra research wasn’t doing me any good. I had to get the nerves out somehow, and unless I fancied a nice bout with a Visitor, I couldn’t exactly go for a run.”

“So you decided on cookies instead,” he said wryly. “You know, you really should try and get more sleep.”

“Says you.” You finished filling up the tray and you picked it up, glancing at Lockwood as you walked over to the oven. “Every night that I’m up, you’re up too. That’s got to be unhealthy.”

“I’m a busy man,” he responded. “I can’t have half of my employees running around sleep deprived.”

You chuckled. “Good to know you care.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Always.”

“But you have to care about yourself, too.” You shut the oven and set a timer on your watch, then gestured at the counter where an already finished tray sat. “Try one.”

“Sugar so close to bed?” he joked.

“Oh, please,” you brushed your hand through the air, “we both know you’re not falling asleep any time soon.”

Lockwood cracked a smile as he walked over, picking up a cookie from the sheet. “Chocolate chip?”

“The best,” you confirmed.

He took a bite and he hummed as his eyebrows rose. “Surprisingly good,” he said after he swallowed.

“‘Surprisingly’?” you repeated. “Why can’t they just be normally good?”

“You may have noticed, but George is our resident chef.” Lockwood finished the rest of the cookie, much to your silent delight, and he went to the fridge. “I’m just surprised we’ve got two culinary experts on the team now.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “I’m not anywhere near an expert. I’m much better at baking than cooking, so George has that market cornered.”

Lockwood smiled, and he finished his cup of water. “He’ll be happy to know that. He’d probably love to share some of his recipes with you.”

“I’d love that more,” you said. “His halva the other day was incredible.”

“I’ll let him know. Of course,” his eyes twinkled, “he’d probably be more flattered if you told him yourself. If there’s one thing he’s prouder of than his work in the archives, it’s his work in the kitchen.”

“I’ll be sure to,” you agreed.

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?” Lockwood asked as usual.

As usual, you rolled your eyes, bit back your smile. “I’ve got two more trays worth of dough. I promise I’ll go after they’re done.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Do you also promise to leave some for us?”

You laughed. “Of course. I didn’t make them just for stress relief, you know.”

“Good,” Lockwood repeated. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. The later morning, rather.”

“You get some sleep too,” you said, pointing your spatula at him, “or else all of these are going to George.”

He placed his fist over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Good. Now get out of here.”

Lockwood chuckled as he walked out, spurring a smile of your own. You picked up a cookie and took a bite, humming in approval at the taste.

“Normally good,” you murmured to yourself as you watched the oven. “Not surprisingly good.”

(When Lockwood came down the next morning, there were two plates of cookies sitting on the counter. He moved to take one, but then he noticed the Post-its.

One read GEORGE and one read LOCKWOOD, each in front of their own separate plates. There was another at the top—NO STEALING :) or I will never make cookies again

He chuckled, his mind wandering to you as he finally took one—from his plate, of course—and bit into it.

Normally good, he thought with a slight smile.

A fine addition to the team indeed.)

You yawned as you walked down the hallway, rubbing at your groggy eyes. You couldn’t sleep, as was per usual when you were working on such a big case, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

Your mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute any time you even tried to close your eyes. Truly, you had no idea how George functioned with a brain like his.

You were about to go into the kitchen to make yourself your usual midnight cup of tea, hoping it would work its usual magic, when you saw the door to the library cracked open.

You couldn’t help but smile. He’d told you and George to go to bed early to make sure you were all ready for the job the next day, and here he was. Restless as ever and still a liar.

You pushed the door the rest of the way open, blinking a bit at the lights as you leaned against the frame. “Up late again, Lockwood?” you asked, and he started when he turned to you and said your name.

“You should be asleep,” he said.

“So should you.”

“I’m looking over the floorplans one last time,” Lockwood said. “This place is huge, and I want to make sure I know every part of it.”

“We’ve drilled the exits a thousand times,” you said. “We already know the mansion inside out—cramming at midnight isn’t going to help anyone. Actually being rested for once will.”

Lockwood gave you a wry look. “Awfully strong words coming from you.”

“I was going to the kitchen to make some tea,” you defended. “And then I was going to go right back to sleep.”

He smiled as he looked at you, and then he nodded and stood up. “Alright. Come on.”

You raised your eyebrows as Lockwood started walking, and then he took your hand and started pulling you along.

“Oh my god,” you said with a laugh, “I can walk on my own.”

All he said was, “I know,” in that annoyingly cocky tone of his, and you continued following him as you went up the stairs. When he pulled open the door of his room, you

“Neither of us are very good at staying asleep,” Lockwood said wryly, “and I really don’t trust you to get enough in the face of tomorrow. So…”

“You think sleeping in the same bed will help,” you surmised.

He shrugged. “At the very least, I’ll be able to make sure you do fall asleep.”

“Then the same goes for you.”

“Obviously.”

You stared at him for a moment. You didn’t exactly… know what to do.

The words rushed out of his mouth. “Of course if you don’t want to—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “No, it’s alright. I want to.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Alright.”

You pulled back the covers, clearing your throat as you took your side and Lockwood took his after turning the lamp off. You didn’t know why this was so awkward, sharing a bed with the boy you’d worked with for the past few months, but it was. You’d faced down countless ghosts together, but this was apparently too much.

“Your bed’s comfortable,” you said, desperate to break the silence. You stared at his wall, your back turned to him, Lockwood in the same position.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know how you’re ever not sleeping through the night with a mattress like this.”

Lockwood chuckled. “Sight isn’t my only talent.”

You smiled. “Very true.”

“Why are you always up?” he asked. “I know my old bed isn’t the most comfortable, but it seems you’re always up.”

“It seems you’re always up.”

“Deflecting,” he said. Your mind flashed back to the first night in the library.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’ve always been a restless person, but being an agent has just… worsened it. I had a couple of bad months working on my own and I don’t think I’ve fully recovered.”

“Ah.” You could feel his breathing in the slight shifts of the bed, and it was oddly comforting. “I hope that we haven’t made it worse.”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “If anything, you’ve made it better. Portland Row is the embodiment of warmth, and you two are fantastic.”

“Well, we aren’t going anywhere,” Lockwood assured. “...I’m not going anywhere. So if you ever need anything, please tell us.”

Your voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Your sleepless nights varied in frequency as the months went on.

Sometimes you were so exhausted when you staggered through the doors of Portland Row that you felt as if you could sleep the night away on the couch. Other times, despite being worked to the bone from a difficult job, you would find yourself staring up at the ceiling of your room, unable to get the visions from the day out of your head.

That was the lovely thing about Touch. The way you saw it, you gave a small part of yourself over each time you used it, and once you got it back, the things you’d seen were embedded in it—in you. It was awfully difficult to separate yourself from your jobs when you threw yourself so fully into it, when you had no other choice but to do so.

Lockwood and George had become accustomed to how deep you felt things. When you needed to be alone after a job, when you needed one of them to talk nonstop to keep you distracted, when you just needed to sit with them in silence and be assured that this too would pass, no matter how slow. That was the nicest thing about being part of the group—you didn’t have to lick your wounds on your own.

When it got really bad—and sometimes it did—you and Lockwood would share his room. His presence was unparalleled in bringing you comfort, and whispered conversations in the dark made you feel some sort of way. He was practically your savior.

When he wasn’t helping you through the night, more often than not, Lockwood would be up at the same hour as you. It was concerning, though you couldn’t say anything about it. He would just throw it back at you, claiming you should be asleep as well. At least George was exempt from the criticism. Bless him.

He found you in a lot of positions. Sitting on the floor of the kitchen scrubbing furiously at the plasm stains on your boots. Sitting on the floor of their living room, one of their case files in your lap as you recounted a previous case. Sitting on the floor of the basement, measuring out salt for bombs and ensuring their flares were stocked. You liked sitting on the floor while you did things, apparently—Lockwood had figured that out after a few weeks of sleepless nights. It was strange.

And of course, the occasional bout of stress baking, ranging from cookies to brownies to pastries and more. You once even baked an entire cake in the middle of the night out of pure anger, the result of a frustrating loss to a Fittes team. Not getting the case hurt a little bit less the next morning when you all had cake to dull the pain.

You found him just as many times. Sometimes getting his own cups of tea in the kitchen, sometimes reading those gossip magazines he was fond of, sometimes doing his own restocks of your supplies. Usually, though, he was just sitting in the library stressed over one thing or another.

You noticed he always tried to hide it from you, covering it with his easy smiles and well-placed jokes. It couldn’t be easy to run an agency as a teenager, no matter how small—you wondered how many restless evenings you would have to share together for him to drop the mask.

Eventually, though, it was decided that another agent was needed. Lockwood and his Sight, you and your Touch, George as an all-arounder—he was your only source for Listening, but it had never been his strong suit. After you nearly got ghost-touched because of that blatant lack of Listening, Lockwood put his foot down and put out an ad.

Enter one Lucy Carlyle: excellent Listener, skilled in Touch, a myriad of opinions. You liked her the moment you met her, her image only sullied by her taking two biscuits. You could hardly blame her though, the way George pushed her. He loved to push.

Due to a lack of rooms but an imminent need for Talent, it was decided that Lucy would room in the attic with you. You were able to get one of the spare beds all the way up to the attic between the four of you, and when you all promptly collapsed on the ground together, it was agreed upon that Lockwood & Company would stick to ghosts. Very good for team bonding, though.

It took Lucy a bit to get used to you, especially in such close quarters, but soon enough you were joking around and talking like you’d known each other for years. You knew she was good, but witnessing her listening was awe-inspiring. You almost couldn’t believe you’d gotten her over Fittes or Atkinson and Armstrong, but you weren’t going to complain. You felt as if your motley crew could do anything.

“I can’t believe he did this,” you seethed.

Well, there were certain things your motley crew did not need to do. Especially your leader.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Lucy said.

“I can’t believe he did this!” you repeated, louder and more annoyed as you threw yourself against the wall. “How stupid can one boy be?”

“He was trying to save you, y’know,” Lucy said dryly.

“I didn’t need to be saved,” you grumbled. “He did it because he’s reckless and stupid.”

“...That’s fair,” Lucy said after a moment. “He is quite reckless.”

“Don’t forget stupid.”

Her lips twitched for a moment. “Perhaps you shouldn’t speak ill of the injured.”

“That’s just the dead,” you muttered. “And we speak plenty of ill of them.”

This was all because of a job that went wrong. And you were certain it wouldn’t have gone wrong if Lockwood could hold himself back for a moment.

“Are you sure that’s him?” you murmured, disguising your words with your cup of sparkling cider.

“Positive,” Lockwood confirmed. “Arthur Torres, one of Sunrise Corporation’s many useless executives.”

“Lovely.” You finished your drink. “I distract and you steal, right?”

“Actually,” Lockwood said, and you didn’t like that at all, “you steal, I distract.”

Your brows furrowed. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“I make the plans,” he said, “I can change them.”

“Not when we spend hours going over them to ensure they’re flawless,” you said tartly.

“Relax.” He smiled at you, and somehow it managed to carve through your irritation. He slipped the keycard out of his pocket and pressed it into your hand. “I’m very good at improvising.”

“Lockw—” You didn’t have the chance to chastise him the way he deserved before he slipped off, a very convenient waiter filling the space he left before you could dart after him. You scoffed as you placed your empty glass on their tray, your eyes narrowed as you glared at Lockwood from beyond.

He paid no attention to you, not until he made the signal. He ‘accidentally’ bumped into Mr. Torres, spilling his wine all over his jacket, and before the first apology could fall from his lips, you were gone.

You muttered curses under your breath the entire way, slipping past guards and security the best you could on the way to the stairwell. You took them two at a time as you hurried to the fourth floor, and though you were completely out of breath by the time you made it, you were pleased that there were no guards. George said he would have the security cameras disabled before you got there, so you just had to trust in him.

You continued to take in and let out deep breaths as you walked up to the door, and they turned into a sigh of relief when you scanned the keycard and it opened. You heard footsteps behind you and whirled around, your hand flying on instinct for the rapier that wasn’t there, and your eyes widened yet again when you saw it was Lockwood.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed.

He held up his hands in defense, as he stopped jogging, and then he brushed out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “I came to help you.”

“You’re meant to be distracting Mr. Torres,” you said incredulously. “Lockwood, do you even care for the sanctity of plans?”

“I care about your safety,” he said, calm in the face of your anger. “That’s why I’m here.”

“And where is he? Hopefully not in reach of his various guards that could ruin us and our careers at any second.”

“I left him in the washroom,” Lockwood said. “How are you doing?”

You set your jaw, and you sighed as you gestured with your head into the now-open office. “Let’s just find this source so we can get out of here.”

Now came the not-so-legal part, that some may even call theft. Lockwood called it discreetly fixing mistakes, you called it your shoddy morals. Not that you were torn up about stealing from an executive businessman, you just didn’t particularly fancy losing your license over it.

A rich family had hired Lockwood & Co to find and return a source that was important to their family, and of course it was housed by Mr. Torres of the Sunrise Corporation. You’d no idea what it was with wealthy people and their flaunting of sources, but you’d had enough of it. They paid handsomely for the risk though, hence your shoddy morals.

This, honestly, was the easy part. You touched a few things, concentrated until your head hurt, and it led you right to it. Quite disappointing—you didn’t know why the Paladinos would keep a paperweight in the family, and more importantly how it came about to be a source, but that didn’t really matter. It sat on Torres’s desk, surrounded by Sunrise Corporation silver-glass, and just for extra measure Lockwood put it into a metal box of your own. You shoved it into your backpack, and the job was halfway done.

The other half was getting out without being spotted.

The two of you worked quickly to erase all traces of your being there, and soon enough you were hurrying through the halls together.

“That was good work.”

You ignored him.

“The Paladinos’ money will do a lot of good for us.”

You ignored him.

“Seriously. You work well on the fly.”

“We shouldn’t have had to work on the fly,” you finally said bitterly.

“Why are you so mad?” Lockwood asked with a slight laugh. God, his nerve. “It all worked out. We’ve got the source, we’ll get the payment, and we didn’t even have to deal with any Visitors. Torres is still clueless.”

“That’s not the point, Lockwood,” you hissed. You forced your expression back into neutrality as you walked out of the stairwell and back into the midst of the party, and you and Lockwood moved at a normal pace. He offered occasional smiles and nods to people in the crowd, and you both nodded at the guards at the exit when you left.

You couldn’t even relish in your victory, because once you’d gotten out of hearing distance, around the corner where no guards or partygoers could see or hear you, Lockwood stopped you.

“What is the point then?” he asked. “If none of what I said is the point, then what is the point?”

“The point is that you don’t trust me!” you exclaimed.

He immediately frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you even follow me in the first place?” you asked. “It was your decision to switch it up at the last moment, and you couldn’t even follow through with that?”

Lockwood didn’t say anything, and you shook your head.

“You don’t trust me,” you repeated quietly.

He said your name then, a slightly wild look in his eyes as he turned to you. “That’s not it.”

“It is.” A muscle worked in your jaw. “Because if you thought I could do it, you would have let me do it instead of risking both of our lives. You wouldn’t have switched our roles in the first place.”

“Torres was suspicious,” he insisted. “He— he was saying things, talking about how he had to make his guards check on his office. He’s a paranoid man, and you could have been in much more danger if I hadn’t abandoned him.”

“That is bullshit!” you exclaimed. “God, it was your bloody idea in the first place! Is it suddenly not good enough? Am I not good enough?”

“That is not what this is about,” Lockwood snapped.

“Then what is it about?” you marveled. “Why did you switch roles in the first place? You’ve told me I could talk my way out of anything, but when the time comes, you shake things up for no reason. For no reason, Lockwood.”

“People know my face better than they know yours,” Lockwood said. “Torres was more willing to talk with the head of a rising agency, you were able to slip around easier because of who you are.”

“Why didn’t you think of that before we were in the thick of it all?” you asked incredulously, and you laughed. “I’ve saved your life multiple times, Lockwood, and you’ve done the same for me. You talk me up all the time to my face, saying I’m what this agency was missing, that I’m part of your family, that— that you’ll never let me go. But that’s all it is, isn’t it?” A shaky smile formed for just a moment before it broke. “Just talk.”

Lockwood said your name desperately, but you shook your head. “No. Justify it however you want, but you nearly sabotaged the entire job just because you didn’t have enough faith in me. That’s it.”

“I’m telling you, that’s not it.” He let out a ragged sigh, running a distressed hand through his hair, when he suddenly froze.

“Good evening, sir!” he called, confident as ever, like your argument hadn’t just happened. “We’re just—”

His voice broke off mid sentence, and then he yelled your name. You whirled around.

It was a guard, and he was armed. He must have spotted you when you were leaving the office, or maybe George had missed a camera and he’d seen your thievery—there were about a thousand things that could have gone wrong. For a split second, you stared down the barrel of the gun. Funny how you’d stared down what felt like hundreds of ghosts, and a bit of metal was what had you frozen.

The guard pulled the trigger.

Lockwood lunged.

You screamed.

“He’s lucky DEPRAC didn’t find the source in my bag,” you muttered. “They already interrogated me to hell and back while he was in the hospital. Luckily, it usually doesn’t look too good when an adult shoots a teenager and can hardly defend himself against it.”

“The bloke deserved to be fired,” Lucy said. “A paperweight is certainly not worth shooting someone over.”

“And it’s certainly not worth getting shot for,” you added.

“It’s kind of funny,” Lucy said offhandedly. “He’s the one that got shot for you, and yet he’s apologizing to you.”

“Because it’s his fault that he got us in that situation in the first place!” you exclaimed. You winced as your words sunk in, and you looked over at Lucy. “That was too harsh, wasn’t it?”

“...A bit,” she admitted.

You sighed dramatically and hit your head against the side of the wall. “I’m acting like a child.”

“A bit.”

“I just don’t know how he expects me to face him,” you said. “I’ve been working with him for the better part of a year, and somehow he still doesn’t trust me.”

“I… don’t think that’s it,” Lucy said.

“How could it not be it?” you said. “He wouldn’t have acted like he did if he trusted me.”

She shrugged. “Have you thought that it’s because he cares about you?”

“He cares about all of us, Luce.”

“He cares about you more,” she said plainly. “In a different way.”

Your head whipped towards her, and you stared at her for a good five seconds. “You are not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“If you think I’m saying it, it’s for good reason,” she said.

“We are colleagues,” you said slowly. “Nothing less, nothing more.”

Lucy said your name with a slight laugh. “He took a bullet for you.”

“He shuffled our assignments because he didn’t trust me,” you said.

“He shuffled your assignments because he was worried about you,” she countered. “He didn’t want you with Torres because if you were found out, Lockwood didn’t want him to remember your face. And he abandoned his post because he was worried about you, that something would go wrong and he wouldn’t be there to help.”

You stared at her before you continued your pacing. “You’re insane. You’re kicked out of the agency.”

“I’m right,” she said wryly. “And may I remind you again that he took a bloody bullet for you?”

“I’ve already given him that,” you said. “I lost my damn mind when it happened—almost tore the guard apart with my bare hands. I freaked out the entire way to the hospital with him.”

“And now you’re almost completely ignoring him,” Lucy said. “Face it: you like him. You just don’t want to admit it because it would mean having an actual conversation with him about it all rather than pacing a hole in the floor.”

“You’re wrong.” You huffed and leaned back against the wall. “You’re wrong.”

Lucy sighed and she offered a faint smile as she stood up. “You take some time to realize all this. I’m stealing George for an Arif’s run.”

“Leaving us alone,” you said flatly, staring ahead as she walked out. “You’re not clever, Lucy Carlyle!”

“Thank you!” she called with a laugh, and you hit your head against the wall once more when she closed the door behind her.

Sometimes you really hated your friends.

It wasn’t like you were avoiding Lockwood. That would be cruel.

Stupid as he was, he got shot, and he got shot for you. Avoiding him would be ridiculous.

You were just… strategically not talking to him.

And that was arguably worse, yes, letting him see you but not deigning to say a single thing to him that wasn’t business related.

It was even worse than worse because you’d inadvertently proven Lucy right. If this were any normal annoyance between friends, like the squabbles you and George were prone to or the bouts that your boys got into over patience and its virtues, it wouldn’t be this strong.

You’d held grudges against Lockwood before. When he forgot to soak your boots overnight so you had to go into an important job with plasm stains, when he ate the strawberry sprinkled donut just to spite you, when you and George were still in rocky territory and he made you marathon the archives with him for nine hours straight.

All of those, annoying as they were, were forgiven rather quickly. And yes, maybe this grudge was especially strong because of the severity of his injury, but…

You could admit it. Normal people didn’t hold grudges over their best friend throwing themselves in front of them to prevent them from getting shot. Normal people were thankful. Normal people could talk about their feelings when they realized it was the reason for their strife.

You, apparently, were not normal. And neither was anyone in this bloody agency, because nobody deigned to make it any easier for you.

Perhaps it was a bit stupid on your part, but you walked down to the kitchen anyway. You needed some tea to clear your mind. Instead, you were met with a half-shirtless Lockwood.

“Ah,” he said your name, looking up from his spot against the counter, “nice of you to finally grace me with your presence.”

“What are you doing?” you asked. It was almost embarrassing—you were meant to be holding a grudge and ignoring your feelings, and instead you were staring at him like a girl in primary school. Remarkable how quickly you forgot your objectives.

“The doctor said I had to redress my wound every day for the first week,” he said. “Lucy and George just went out, so I figured I would do it now.”

Your brows furrowed. “How do you feel?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he said. Lucy’s words pounded in your ears. “I don’t think you avoiding me is good for my health.”

You bit your lip and remained silent. Rocky territory, this was.

“It’s alright if you just want to stand there.” Lockwood grimaced a bit as he pressed the alcohol-soaked pad to his wound. “Moral support is very helpful.”

Remarkable how quickly the dam broke. You sighed and closed the distance, holding out your hand when you stopped a few meters in front of him. “Give it to me.”

Lockwood’s eyebrows rose.

“Give it to me,” you repeated. “I’ve dealt with many of my own wounds over the years. It’ll be a lot faster if I do it for you.”

His lips quirked into a slight smile as he handed the cloth over. “This is better than moral support.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile of your own as you started to dab at the surrounding blood on his chest, innately aware of your proximity but trying your best to ignore it. “This doesn’t look too bad, honestly.”

“I was shot,” he said dryly. “I think I deserve a few style points for that.”

“You’ve already earned them all, Lockwood.”

“That makes sense.” You felt his eyes on you as you continued to work, pointedly ignoring his gaze. “You know, they didn’t take the bullet out. Said it would be worse to take it out, and it’s not causing any problems inside. So I’ve got a bullet in me now.”

Your brows furrowed. “Interesting.”

“Indeed. I’ll be going off in airports for the rest of my life.”

Your fingers hovered over his chest for a moment, and you pulled away with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

It was his turn to frown. “What for?”

“For—” you let out another sigh, rougher this time. “For this.”

“It wasn’t your fault I got shot,” he said. “I quite clearly remember pushing you out of the way.”

“I know,” you said. “I— I am quite sorry that you got shot, though.”

“Obviously,” he said coyly, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m sorry for this grudge. It’s probably the stupidest out of all the ones I’ve held against you so far.”

“George keeps a running list,” Lockwood said. “I’m sure we can figure that out.”

“I’m serious.” Your hand lingered on Lockwood’s chest for a moment, his body warmth almost shocking, before you set the cloth down on the counter. You started to put a fresh bandage on, but you finally mustered the strength to look at him. “I was so upset at the thought that you didn’t trust me because your opinion means a lot to me, Lockwood. The way you think of me means a lot to me.” You cleared your throat, averting your eyes for a moment. “You mean a lot to me.”

Lockwood gently tipped your chin back towards him, your eyes meeting his. He really was beautiful—eyes that were softer than ever, his tousled hair, the slope of his jaw. Slightly chapped lips, the bags under his eyes that seemed to be permanent, the weight of the world on his shoulders that seemed to diminish ever so slightly when you were around.

Your Lockwood.

“You mean a lot to me as well,” he said. “Why do you think I reassigned us last minute? Why do you think I took a bullet for you?”

“Because you’re a reckless idiot?”

“Because I panic around you,” he said, “in addition to being a reckless idiot. Whenever we’re on a job, half of my mind is focused on ghosts, and the other half is making sure nothing happens to you. You drive me the best kind of insane.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. You wanted to kiss him more than anything, to root your hands in that tousled hair and make it an even bigger mess. You wanted to make him realize he didn’t have to worry about you, because you weren’t going anywhere without him.

The words stuck in your throat. You finished applying his bandage, and you took a step away.

“Thank you,” you said.

He didn’t look angry or annoyed or irritated—he understood. He understood you.

“Always.”

And it was as simple as that.

It wasn’t really a surprise you couldn’t sleep that night. You hadn’t exactly talked to Lockwood since your show of emotion in the kitchen, embarrassing as it was. You made Lucy check downstairs before you went down for supper, and that was just so you could make the quickest sandwich of your life and immediately hurry back upstairs.

Pathetic, really. You mustered the strength to tell the boy you liked him, he returned it, you ran off and locked yourself in the attic.

And it wasn’t because it was too much. You just… you didn’t know. You might’ve driven Lockwood insane, but he turned you into a complete idiot. It was ridiculous. And you were not ridiculous.

So when night rolled around, when Lucy and George were sound asleep and the ghost lamps flickered on every three minutes and you had only the owls outside your window for company, you knew what you were going to do.

You threw on your sweatshirt, carefully padded across the floor and out the door so as to not wake Lucy, and you went down the stairs.

Surprisingly, you’d never felt calmer.

The light was on in the library. The door was slightly pushed open, the nondescript act that had turned into a beacon for the two of you.

You knocked on the wall before you pushed the door open some more, not waiting for an answer as you leaned against the doorframe.

Lockwood sat in his armchair, a magazine half open but neglected on his lap. His eyes shined the moment you stepped inside.

“Got room for one more?” you asked softly.

Lockwood’s shoulders relaxed, his throat bobbing for a moment before that damn smile pulled at his lips.

“Always.”

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood & co #x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

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catboydreamer · 1 year

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summary; scaramouche w/ a partner who’s stronger than they look and just starts lifting shit up in front of him and yeah, he has a...reaction. (im so sorry i am undeniably obsessed w/ scara)

it’s not really a huge deal, scaramouche has always known you can handle yourself well.

something awakens in him when he sees you carrying in boxes; three boxes stacked on top of each other, your head barely peeking out from behind them. he freezes for a second, simply watching. he had no clue you had that sort of strength in you. good to know, though.

his feelings truly get intense, though, while you’re out and have to carry a group of children to a safer location. you tell scaramouche it won’t be long.

there are three children on you, one with their tiny hands locked around your neck as their tiny body lays against your back and the other two are hanging around your sides, held closely by you.

scaramouche huffs despite his feelings.

“don’t... take too long.”

while you’re on your way, scaramouche stares after your figure and he cannot stop his own thoughts. he’s allowed to think of you like this but it’s still embarrassing. his cheeks heat up quickly and furiously. he becomes almost angry with himself over it.

if you can carry so many things breathlessly, you could... hold him too. and not in the way it seems, of course you know how to hold him close. that’s something you’ve already mastered. he knows that. no, it's more of how easily you could lift him off the ground and pulls him to you with nowhere else to go.

he makes an incoherent but angry noise as his fingers reach to tug at the back ends of his hair.

it's simply a frustrating but addicting thought.

now, truly it's up to you and your observational skills if anything happens!

if you had noticed his gazes and the flustered look that overtook his face before you left, then you would question him about it. just don’t expect a quick answer or one at all.

scaramouche is stubborn after all, so unless you initiate something now, you won’t even know what it's about until months later.

he would literally pout and make grabby hands at you one day all of a sudden, probably after a really hard day, and demand, “hold me.”

hopefully you understand he wants you to pull him up and not simply hug him, though if you don’t, he’d become huffy about it. it’s been marinating in his brain for a few months now so if you are oblivious to his /obvious/ feelings, he’s gonna jump on you, now. what’s worse is you don’t even stumble at all and instinctively know where to hold him. it makes him sick.

he’s so tired, right now, so he doesn’t say anything. he closes his eyes as he finally leans into you and gets what he wants.

don't ask him about it or else >:). KIDDING he’s used to your antics and little remarks you’ll make. he likes it when it comes from you.

#scaramouche #scara #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #soft scaramouche #fingers crossed this is well #honestly its self indulgent so uh #NAYWAYS #hope ur wanderer pulls are going well #i have c2 scara #im goin for c6 #AHAHAH #im analyzing wanderer and im gonna write some scara based off that characterization #I LOV HIM THO SO MUCH

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mudisgranapat · 5 months

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I. Lights Out

Word Count: 2,7 k

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X F! Reader

Content: zombie apocalypse, mention of dead bodies, mention of death, children

Summary: A virus has taken over the world, turning people into zombies. Amidst the chaos, Simon has managed to stick together with the other operators of Task Force 141, his life barely any different than it was before. That is, until the day he crosses paths with a woman that keeps a well hidden secret and holds something he has long forgotten existed: a baby

Note: This is my first fic (and first tumblr post)! Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I already have the story planned out, and will be posting the next chapter soon if anyone cares about this. If not, I’ll pretend I never posted this lol

Sitting on the back of the Humvee, Simon could almost believe that things were normal. The constant hum of the engine numbed his mind, as he stared into the sewing of the padding covering the old seat. Soap was seated directly across from him, blabbing his mouth to Gaz, who acted like he could hear anything besides the huge vehicle's obscene noise. Behind the steering wheel was his Captain, Price. Although, that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not ranks, not names. Nothing was normal, and the reality outside that Humvee was something Simon, not even in his worst days, ever believed could happen.

He had witnessed bleak images. Cruelty in abundance. But the world he saw now was unlike anything he had ever seen before - the dead, roaming among the living. Not that he hadn’t encountered his fair amount of corpses, after all, that came with his job. But this, seeing the bodies of civilians, once full of life, now life-less and decaying at an evolving speed, nonetheless persisting, chasing the taste of human meet… It was different.

When the early signs of the apocalypse started to show, most of the people downplayed it, him included. He had always been a skeptic, and it just didn’t seem viable that a virus could bring down humanity with such strength. Regardless, Simon hadn’t been too worried about the so-called “end of the world”; He thought that his military ties would be enough to keep him informed with privileged intel of the real situation.

He had been deployed with the 141, far from civilization, when shit really went down. For obvious reasons, they came out empty-handed from the recon mission. Turns out terrorism doesn’t come first in the list of the insurgent’s priorities when there is a deathly virus going around. It was only at his team's fruitless attempt to land back at base that he found out that his ranks and years of service didn’t matter when the world was collapsing. They had been out for long enough that, when they came back, there was no more government in place. No hierarchy to follow, and no rules to structure society. And no one cared about them enough to let them know beforehand.

Some people had stayed in their houses, probably clutching their kitchen knives close to their hearts while they heard their neighbor's inhuman noises. Others had divided themselves into smaller groups, in the hopes of giving humanity a fighting chance. The lucky ones had made it to what once were the quarantine zones, now just simply a bigger group of people that managed to stick together and with far better resources. From there, all the typical apocalyptic mayhem developed: gangs, revolutionary groups, miracle safe spaces, cults, and so on. The chaos you would expect to see in a movie. Apparently, they weren’t that far from reality.

Along with the 141, Simon fell into the “smaller group” category - not that the four men would give humanity a fighting chance, they just didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Being military men, their lives revolved around structure and order, so it was natural for them to stick together. Whatever ties to the old world they had before had long been severed, and quickly they realized that it was less painful to hope that anyone they cared about had had the privilege of dying a quick death.

Not that that mattered to Simon either. He didn’t have anyone. So sitting at the back of that Humvee they had stolen from an abandoned base, things didn’t feel that different from what they used to be.

Soon enough, the group expanded, thanks to Soap, who had managed to fix an old radio and get in touch with a few other military personnel who were scattered around the globe. That is how they found Laswell: she had managed to seclude a select group of people from the military in one of the bases that were abandoned in the turmoil. They didn’t mention that she never tried to contact them while they were away on that recon mission, and she didn’t bring it up either. Now, over two years had passed, and the topic was long forgotten.

They were a bunch of people tied together by the hope they could still save humanity: scientists, agents, medics… Everyone had their place in the small society Laswell had created. And Simon… Well, he was a soldier. And soldiers are always useful when in the right hands. That was why things hadn’t changed much for him, and for the first time in his life, the fact that he never had a home to come back to was a relief.

Price was currently driving towards an abandoned research post, that had once been filled with people working to find a cure for the virus that plagued the world. Now, it was just a pile of junk and hopelessness, where Laswell swore they could still find valuable intel - maybe someone had forgotten to scrub their hard drive, or left behind a notebook with notes. At this point, even a post-it with bullet points would be considered a success.

As they pulled up to the location, they decided to park a few meters away from the entrance and proceeded with the skillfulness of a well-oiled machine. Soap and Gaz cleaned the era, taking out the few zombies in the vicinity with their knives, as Price and Ghost scanned for any intelligent life form that could possibly cause trouble. Not that they were expecting to find anything, it was just a precaution, as anyone who once lived there had either fled the area or become another roaming corpse.

They were about to follow the small dirt path that led to the makeshift building when Gaz held up his hand, a signal to stay put, while he used the other to hold the thermal vision glasses to his eyes. “I’m reading two heat signatures - one small and the other even smaller. Looks like it could be a woman and a child. The woman seems to be armed.”

“Let me see this, Gaz.” Says Price as he analyzes the scene himself. “He is right. Two signatures, one is armed.” Gaz makes a look of mock surprise behind the Captain, as he hadn’t just said that. He had become a lot more sassy since he could not be demoted.

“What do we do now?” Soap asks. “It’s not like we can just shoot a kid.”

Price pretends not to hear the last sentence. “I will approach, unarmed. They are probably just scared and trying to find a safe place to live. I’ll tell them we can give them some of our food if they come out and let us take a look at the place.” Before anyone can suggest an alternative, the Captain is removing his guns from the holster, and making his way towards the old science lab.

He is only a few feet away when the sound of gunshots fills the air. The bullets, all aimed just inches away from the captain’s boots, trace a line as if saying “Do not come any closer”. Immediately, the rest of the 141 aim their guns at where the shots came from, taking cover behind the trees, waiting for permission to shoot from the Captain, one that never comes.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY!” A woman’s voice rings in their ears. This confirms part of what they had seen in the thermal goggles: there was a woman inside and she was, indeed, armed.

“I just want to talk, kid.” Price states calmly, standing his ground. He doesn’t take a step forward, so the shooter doesn’t feel challenged, but doesn’t take a step back either. He is not a man that backs away from a fight. “Name’s John. No need to shoot”.

“You can tell that to your men.” The woman is positioned behind a window, the scope of her gun pointing fearlessly at the bearded man. Not expertly, Simon notes to himself, as he can see the slight tremble that reverberates through the metal parts. Although her voice screams confidence, he can tell the person behind it is not as courageous. But she would probably still shoot that gun - Simon has seen more people pulling triggers out of fear than bravery.

“Alright. Stand down, boys.” And they do. “We just want to take a look around, we don’t want trouble”

The woman laughs. “You say, as you carry automatic weapons and wear a bulletproof vest.”

“Just protecting myself from these troublesome fellas around. You know, the ones with their face falling off, trying to eat people.”

“We both know no one needs that much gear to fight some brain-dead walkers.” She doesn’t seem to want to match the light-hearted tone John is trying to bring to the conversation. “Now get out, or my men will shoot you.”

Now it’s Price’s turn to laugh. “Sweetheart, we both know there’s no one else there with you.” He puts both his hands on the shoulder straps of his vest. “That is, except for the child.”

John was just trying to assert his dominance by showing he had more information than he had let on. However, an angry string of bullets directed toward his feet, again, showed that the comment had struck a nerve. “Get out.” She said through gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear. “Or the next ones are going straight through that stupid fucking hat of yours.”

“Listen here, kid.” The Captain was angry now. He didn’t like when people commented on his hat. “I have three men ready to shoot your ass into oblivion if you don’t comply. If you can’t tell, they are military-trained, and they will have you down before you can aim at my stupid fucking hat. So quit being dumb and put that gun down.” It was surprising he had let her go as far as shooting at him twice, but he was done negotiating.

“Are you with the Resistance?” Simon almost wants to laugh at that name. The Resistance was a group that, surprise, surprise, wanted to resist the Government. People have too much faith in the Government, in his opinion, as it had crumbled before he came back from his mission. To be fair, it had been a long mission, so maybe he was being a little harsh. Now, the Resistance was a group of rebels that had nothing to rebel against, and who, ironically, had become the closest thing to a government you could have nowadays.

“No, we are not.” Simon could tell John’s patience was wearing thin. He isn’t a big fan of the Resistance either. “We are a group that’s still trying to fix things in this goddam world and that lab might have valuable information. Now let us through.”

At that, the woman puts the gun down and stands up. She probably didn’t know that, but by the tone of his Captaion’s voice, she had probably taken her last chance to avoid a conflict. “Name’s Y/N.” She says. Simon can see her face now - she looks like she is in her early twenties, with long hair tied in a tight ponytail. She disappears behind the window again, coming out the front door with a baby in her left arm and a pistol in her right hand. “I’m keeping the gun.”

“Suit yourself. Come on, boys.” With that, the three of them are taken out of their trance. He knows what they were thinking because he was thinking the same. Who in their right mind has a baby in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Either this woman was crazy brave or crazy crazy. A baby was a rare sight, a healthy one even more so. But there she stood, baby in her arms and a furious gaze.

They walk past her and her gaze only intensifies. Clearly, the woman was hiding from something, or someone. But that was neither here nor there. They were on a mission, and they were going through with it regardless. Nothing had ever stood in 141’s way.

They don’t ask the baby’s name. Simon had a feeling she might point her gun to his head if he did. Not that he was curious, he could care less about the women or the child.

She doesn’t ask their names either. After all, there is no reason for formalities. If all goes well, they will be gone as suddenly as they appeared.

Inside, the lab was what you would have expected, except for a few things that showed that someone had been living there. It wasn’t hard to find their way around the place, although incredibly annoying to do when there was a five-something-foot-tall woman following them around with a disapproving look. He understood - after all, they were in her house. However, that wasn’t even a house in the first place. Simon tried to mock an equally disapproving look while scavaging for something useful. As if reading his mind, Johnny asks “May I ask why you are living here, of all places? I mean, there are real houses across the street, lass.” Always a gentleman, he was. He could tell the scot had put real effort into that sentence not to sound judgmental.

The building wasn’t too messy, courtesy of the current tenant. It wasn’t too big either. It resembled a house from the outside, and had two stories: the bottom floor looked pretty much like a regular house. It had one room filled with a not-so-normal number of beds, a bathroom, a simple kitchen, and tables everywhere, where it looked like people used to do research and eat, probably simultaneously. The top floor, on the other hand, seemed like something from another world: Wires covered the walls, feeding energy to dozens of different lab-related equipment. Some were big, some were small, and Simon couldn’t name them if his life depended on it.

“The place runs on solar energy. So the showers and appliances installed still work. Except for the cameras, I shut them down a long time ago, along with all this science crap.” So Simon’s intuition was right, she was hiding from something, and knew too much about the place for her to just have stumbled upon it on pure luck. They had already looked at the cameras and made sure that they weren’t working. They were small, installed mostly where it looked like the scientific research went down and at the entrance. She must have been looking for them, as he was pretty sure a regular civilian wouldn’t have been able to spot all of the cameras. But she did, despite the fact that it looked like those were the parts of the house that she used the least. And although Simon's first reaction was to be suspicious, he couldn’t deny that part of him was impressed.

“Smart.” Gaz said, but his tone seemed to reflect some suspicion as well. He had been sitting down in front of a computer since they arrived, trying to recover any data, while the rest of them tossed things around. Unfortunately for them, the scientists who had previously worked there had remembered to scrub the place clean - no documents or information was left behind. “Price, I think I got something.”

Whatever Gaz had been doing in that giant computer, seemed to have worked, as it looked like files were being restored. But the victory was short-lived, and they hardly had time to gather around the machine before the energy shut down. “What happened?” Soap asked.

“I don’t know, it looked like it was working.” Gaz proceeded to furiously tap the keyboard, probably having no idea what he was doing.

“Well, get it to work again then.”

“It’s not that simple, Soap.” As fast as the power went out, it came back on, and the distinct beep of the weird machines splattered around the place could be heard again. “It seems like the whole place rebooted. It was probably easier for them to have all the controls gathered in one place. Simpler.”

But Simon wasn’t focused on Gaz’s explanation. He was focused on the cameras, that he had physically confirmed were shut down, now red light shining bright. Apparently, the machines weren’t the only thing that had turned back on. “Shit.” He heard the woman say behind him. Her face was pale, and she hugged the baby tightly, shielding the child’s face against her chest.

Whatever she was hiding, Simon was willing to bet all his money it had to do with that baby.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price

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doobea · 5 months

Text

DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

synopsis: Being a college student sucks. Having a crush on your best friend also sucks. Your best friend having a crush on your other best friend is . . . kinda the worst. In which, Reo is hopelessly in love with you but you’re hard crushing on Nagi.

-> MASTERLIST. -> PLAYLIST.

contents: second lead syndrome feat. fem!reader & reo, heavy narration in the beginning as per usual whoops, also in an au where bluelock never happened LOL, grandparental meeting, reo x stardew valley vibes, of course y/n and reo get together duh, nagi's been shipping them together since high school word count: 3.9K a/n: FINAL PART OUT YAY :3 thank you for joining me on this journey hehe this was also my first time attempt of writing reo so hopefully his characterization went ok ;-;

VEGA -> prev.

You get the feeling that Nagi is up to something, after a while.

Well, Nagi is always up to something — gaming and dozing off, to be exact. This time, though, all of his attention seems to be fixated on you.

“That’s not your sweater,” he says, pointedly, one day, when you waltz into their apartment with a handful of pastries. You decided to make a detour trip to a local bakery earlier in the morning, carefully curating the palettes of the two males because —well— after that happened you felt like a small offering would be needed in a way.

Like how many others delegate, the kiss was rather… confusing to all. Nagi doesn’t bring it up when you three all return back to festival grounds, nor does he bring it up to Reo when you finally go home. Reo’s been texting you like all things are normal, and you guess it’s because he doesn’t really know what to do either. Though, he’s been more endearing than usual over text, which you take as a sign that something is progressing.

Let’s just say that it’ll be weird for you to wake up without a ‘good morning, did you eat yet?’ text from a certain billionaire’s son.

Backstory aside, Nagi’s not lounging around for once. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his hands from a brand you’re not familiar with. Judging by its fine print font and pastel color scheme, you assumed that Nana stopped by not too long ago. And his gaze isn’t leaving your sweater. Whatever, you’re probably not wearing it correctly anyway. Stupid rich people problems.

“It’s Reo’s,” you say, lightly, and scoot by him to place down the baked goods. “He accidentally gave me his sweater when he returned my things, that’s all.”

It wasn’t an accident. Reo had made sure to spray that sweater with all the cologne he had. The sweater is warm, comfortable, and smells just like him. It’s nice.

Nagi gives you a look. It’s not a strong look, but it’s obvious enough to make your cheeks heat up. “Uh huh,” he deadpans before giving you a full up-down. “You’re wearing it, though.”

“Yeah, I am,” you shrug it off, trying to pretend that you don’t understand what the big deal was.

Okay, yeah, your best friend suddenly kisses you and now you’re rethinking about your life choices since high school because you were so sure that you liked his other friend. And the fact that you kissed back? Was that supposed to happen? And you didn’t wear this sweater today in hopes of Reo seeing you, nope that’s not it. Reo doesn’t make you feel warm and fuzzy because this sweater does all of that. It’s a comfort thing and Reo doesn’t bring you comfort… right?

You apparently have some cheesy expression written all over your face, though, and that causes Nagi to pinch your cheek to snap you back to reality. “Suits you,” Nagi decides to end the topic before shifting to the main subject. “Reo’s out this morning.”

“I wasn’t trying to see him,” you grumble out, eyes narrowing as you fix yourself a latte and adding way too many shots of espresso to fight off your internal turmoil. You add a large serving of caramel syrup to balance out the bitterness and then top it off with a heavy serving of whipped cream, sighing happily as you get a mouthful of the sugary concoction within the first sip.

Nagi simply shakes his head and drains the rest of his drink in one go. “Well, he’s been talking about you nonstop, if that makes—” Nagi stops in his tracks when he watches your ears perk up. “—you happy…”

At this point, Nagi probably thinks everyone is in on a poorly executed inside joke, except for him. He doesn’t like it, but what can he do? His two best friends are now awkwardly pinning each other and neither of them are sparing him any details. Then again, he’s not sure if he wants all the details. So, instead of poking a dead fish around, he exits to the living room and throws on a weekly series that he’s been meaning to catch up on. These past two months have been quite tiring.

You eventually join him on the couch, body now running on full blast of caffeine and loads of caramel. “Sei, tell me everything that he’s said, please?” and you throw out your best attempt at puppy eyes because you know that Nagi has always been horrible at saying no to these kinds of things.

But maybe getting a girlfriend has changed him, somewhat.

“You’ll hear it from him, eventually,” Nagi simply answers, smiling.

Of course, regardless of how many times you repeat yourself, Nagi would spit back the same response. Since when did he start caring for Reo’s secrecy all of a sudden? Pretty lame. You zone out when an action sequence comes on the screen and begin texting Reo.

‘where are you’ You text over a character monologue in the background.

‘At some stores, picking up last minute gifts for later.’ Reo replies back with a series of emojis.

By ‘stores’, you would only guess it’s nothing but high-end designer stuff. ‘Gifts’ implying that he’s buying multiple for your family and relatives. ‘Later’ is when the two of you will depart on visiting your hometown for the weekend because it turns out Reo was actually serious about taking up your off-handed comment.

‘i told you not to get anything!!’ You send an angry emoji right after.

Nagi is absolutely reading over your shoulder, too, and if looks could kill, you’re pretty sure you’d be in a million pieces, burning to bits on the floor. “Got a hot date with Reo, huh?”

“Well, you didn’t want to come and we’re not dating…” you huff before pushing him away. “And stop reading my texts!”

“Don’t text while I’m watching my show, it’s distracting.” Nagi shoots back, and you don’t really have an argument for that.

Though, you just glare at him until he eventually backs off and you go back to texting Reo, a bit more subtly, talking about various expensive gifts that he can get instead of showing up to your family doorsteps with diamonds and silk robes. You haven’t had anyone from the city come visit your hometown, so you’re a little nervous to say the least. Especially since someone accompanying you is several tax brackets ahead…though Reo wouldn’t judge you differently. Because he likes you, in more ways than one. Fuck.

You’re ignoring a lot of things happening right now, and bringing him over to meet your family is making you feel weird. Ugh, whatever.

In the end, Reo ends up returning half of his purchases because apparently designer bags and jewelry won't serve your grandparents that well in their everyday lives. So he opts to buy them expensive fruits instead. Fruits are already expensive in the country, so when Reo showed up with boxed grapes that costed more than your current outfit, you could've sworn your eyes were about to pop out of your sockets.

Reo should’ve known better than to wear anything remotely formal when he agreed to come visit your hometown. Tailored suits are expensive and difficult to replace and, from what he’s experienced within the past hour, the mud that’s been splattered all over his dress shoes and pants haven’t gone away no matter how much cleaning reagent he’s used so far. But complaints are off the table, no matter how much he absolutely wants to point out the sweltering heat and the lack of air conditioning in your home.

The plane ride over wasn’t any better. You blatantly refused to use his credit card for first-class seating upgrades regardless how many times he’d begged you.

“It’ll only be a two hour flight, Reo. Plus, economy isn’t that bad.” You reasoned.

Oh, but it was.

He’s a gentleman and gentlemen should always let others pick which seat they want first. Window seat was a non negotiable for you, and he didn’t really mind. What he did mind was the random stranger seated to his right.

Screen brightness — max.

Volume settings — max.

Chewing noises — sadly, also max.

It’s a miracle that he didn’t flag down an attendant and leave you for first class. Well, flight aside, landing happens and, inevitably, comes the next part.

“Are you enjoying your stay so far?”

Your grandmother comes into view, coming to Reo’s rescue with a sunhat and a bottle of water, and the basket next to her was already filled to the brim with all types of vegetable assortments from the garden. Reo graciously takes the hat and sips of the water before glancing down at his own basket, which is very much barren. He thought offering to help with harvesting will win him some brownie points, but he should’ve known how dirty it would get.

“It’s definitely different from what I’m used to, but it’s nice here.” He’s honest about the last part.

The city doesn’t offer much in terms of parks and recreational activities and, despite the fact he’s pretty sure his button up is practically attached to his skin and that there’s probably a centipede (or two) crawling in his shoes, the whole nature thing is pretty serene. Your parents’ old home is a cozy cottage right off the side of the country road, surrounded by rice paddy fields with a wide range of mountains in the backdrop. Occasionally, Reo would see truck drivers making pit stops out in the front to either pick up a small shipment or make small talk with your grandfather — it’s completely foreign to him given that he’s so used to the stuffy business world. Seeing all of this makes Reo understand why some would enjoy a life of simple living and solitude.

Your grandmother laughs. “We were afraid that you wouldn’t like it here.”

To this, Reo digs his hands back into the soil and pulls out a set of carrots in hands. “Sorry, did I give off that impression?” Says the boy who’s currently dressed head to toe in formal wear. Idiot.

“Our granddaughter has been…” she trails off for a moment, finger pursed to her lips and head tilted, before finishing. “She’s been blowing up the family group chat about this trip for a while now. Safe to say she’s been worried.”

Oh. That’s news.

Reo wipes off the puddle of sweat from his face and straightens his back. “It’s beautiful and peaceful here, you wouldn’t be able to get this back in the city. Everyone’s been really nice and the food,” he points down to the field. “You wouldn’t be able to get these without them costing an arm and a leg for the sake of being ‘organic’.”

“Sounds like you want to move here.”

And for the sake of earning those brownie points, “Yeah, I can see myself doing that one day.”

“Imagine that. Can’t stay away from our granddaughter, right?” she teases, and it causes him to do a double take.

“W-What?”

She ignores Reo’s stammering and hands him a pair of gloves and a metal bucket. “Once you finish picking the rest, come meet me by the farmhouse, the cows need some attention.”

Reo might have to rethink his career path after this trip.

“Can you tell your cousins to knock it off, please?” Your best friend is grumbling and hiding behind you for all things safety related.

One thing you forgot to mention, outside of the laborious work, is that your little cousins are an absolute menace to outsiders. The youngest one has been non stop terrorizing Reo around the house with a live grasshopper while the older one keeps throwing him glares and middle fingers. This has been going on right after dinner and Reo’s getting really sick of them and their chattering about how they hate seeing you with someone that needs ‘pampering’.

You huff and roll your eyes playfully. “You think I haven’t tried shutting them up?”

“Good point,” Reo groans from behind. He’s gripping your shoulders as if he’s on life support, shaking every time the youngest one raises the grasshopper closer. “Can’t you just give them an iPad or anything?”

“And what? So they can turn into those kids who stare at a screen all day? No thank you.” You tease, but you give your cousins a final stern look before getting to their eye level.

Reo watches, silent but amused, as you pluck the insect out of the boy’s grasp and pinch his cheek with a light tug, not enough to shed tears but enough to cause him to yelp. You motion the older one over, who just grumbles under his breath but obeys anyway.

“Big sis, we swear we’re just playing together—” the older one starts, and you simply respond with a hard head shake.

“That’s not how we treat guests in our home. Last time I checked, you guys didn’t like it when I made you clean out the pig pen for fun,” you retort with a casual grin. “Time to head back to auntie’s place anyway, it’s way past your bedtimes.”

Both of them sigh in defeat, but that doesn’t stop them from throwing up a pair of middle fingers at Reo. Hey, down with the rich — they’re on the right track in life. And you know deep down they’re just looking out for you ever since your experience in high school, even if the hatred towards city folks is on the extreme side.

You’re stifling a laugh as the pair leave the house. Reo loosens his grip on your shoulders when they are out of ear shot and nudges your sides because you still have that damn grasshopper in your hands.

“Puke or cry in my house and I’m making you sleep with the cows tonight.” The threat is spoken casually, with a bit of affection to it, but Reo knows damn well it’s a valid threat.

“I’m not going to puke or cry,” he replies, haughtily. “And, for the record, I helped the cows earlier today so I’m practically their mother.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for that, you didn’t have to.” You gently toss the grasshopper out the kitchen window, making sure it landed on a patch of soft grass. “Grandma was constantly raving about you after you finished. Saying something about planning the next weekend trip together.”

“Yeah, might as well help around, you know?” Reo weakly chuckles and briefly looks down at his hands. What he doesn’t add is that his hands are going to be sore for the next few days and that maybe your grandparents think he’s going to move in with them in the future. Something of that sort.

“It’s not the worst idea,” You grin. The sun is down, and the stars in the sky are starting to poke through. You catch Reo trying to get a good look before an idea pops up. “My room has a pretty good view of everything, if you want to head up?” You would offer to lay outside but, considering that the ecosystem here offers much bigger bugs, you decided against it.

Unsurprisingly, Reo takes up on the suggestion.

Your old bedroom is sparsely furnished, and that’s intentional. Most of your personal belongings are currently at your college apartment. All that’s left is a full sized bed, an old boxy television with an equally old boxy stand, a couple of bookshelves stuffed full of children's books, and one of those large colorful beanbags by the window sill.

It’s a nice bedroom, for all things considered. A lot more vibrant and has more character than Reo’s old bedroom growing up. From what he’s shown you before, his bedroom was almost a black and white minimalist’s wet dream.

“It’s a bit dusty, hope you don’t mind.”

Your bedroom window has a nice view of the mountain side, and Reo’s quickly distracted by the swarm of fireflies and night stars as he quickly shoves his suitcase into the corner and settles on your bed without a second thought.

“I like it,” He replies, in a careful, casual voice. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but you swear, your best friend sounds both anxious and excited, and maybe there’s a hint of nerves in there, too. Whatever it is, your stomach is back to doing those weird flips.

You try to think. You’re aware of several things right now. First, your best friend is making himself very comfortable in your bed. Second, he’s giving you a look, one that just screams some sort of smug superiority. Third, despite it being humid and warm in your room, you really just want to bury your face into his shoulder. Maybe you should climb in with him, look at the stars together, curled up and snuggling, maybe even run your fingers through his hair, and—

“So,” Reo interrupts and snaps you out of your strange reverie. “You’re sleeping on the floor, right?”

“Huh?” your voice is bleary, and your thoughts are kinda far off. Reo shuffles his way under your sheets and suddenly you put two and two together. “I saved you from those little demons and this is the thanks I get?”

“I deserve it since I worked,” Reo sighs, dramatically, when you finally find the courage to sit down on the ends of the mattress. “Or did you want to share it together?” Tease oozes into his tone.

That last bit makes your heart skip a couple of beats. Alcohol wasn’t in the dinner mix and, even if it was, Reo would never be this bold in front of you. Perhaps there’s something floating in the summer air.

“Stop pretending that you live here,” but you eventually settle yourself underneath the blankets too, just on the other side to put some good inches in between.

Reo’s smiling, and that’s all that matters. It doesn’t bother you when he manages to hog all the blankets and the limited amount of pillows. He’s a gentleman, but also has his needy side that he’s not afraid of showing. Not to mention that he looks good in the dim lighting, even though he’s only been wearing one of your grandpa’s old t-shirts after working in the field. It finally makes the strange fluttering in your stomach calm into a steady, present warmth, and that’s maybe more problematic, but you don’t give it any real thought.

Reo speaks up after a few passing heartbeats. “Can I… say something?”

You swallow thickly. “Go for it.”

It can’t be just your imagination, the way Reo’s mouth parts, just a little, the way his tongue is dating out to wet his lips. You’re leaning forward, hand reaching down between. You can’t stop looking at him.

“I want…” Reo tries to say, but his throat is a giant lump.

“Reo,” You breathe out in response, head tipping, “If you keep looking at me like that, then…”

It comes in swift moments, with Reo pressed close, with both of your hips bumping together, with arms slung over the other’s shoulder. There’s been those moments of laughter, where it feels as if the whole world has faded away in a blur beyond the gaze of your best friend. It’s cliche and dumb, but you feel, in a way, that you’ve been looking at Reo for your life. And you have, really, because he’s always been there for you.

There’s a lot of things that Reo could say. They’re burning on his tongue, building in his throat, getting stuck there. He should just push them out, just say it. Or, maybe, he should say nothing at all, because that wonder and those answers are all reflected in your gaze.

Both of you are so close that he can make out every strand of your lashes. He can see the subtle shift of color in your eyes, the dark band increasing around your pupils, that slight nervous glimmer there. It’s got Reo’s heart pounding in his chest, hammering to be freed. He’s got one hand pressed into the small of your back, stroking there, slow and affectionate. His other hand is trembling, just a little, and he steadies himself bracing it against your cheek.

It’s got you shivering, and Reo realizes that you’re both a bit terrified.

“I want to be yours,” Reo might be nervous as hell, but he steels his voice, and brushes your lips together, he’s so close, when he talks. “I can’t think about anything else when I’m with you. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but—”

“Reo,” you take the initiative here, shifting closer, and settling your lips close to his neck. “It’s okay. I want you too.”

You take another inch forward and Reo allows it. Maybe you’re both getting more comfortable with each other. Maybe getting brave and feeling more grown up. Likely, it’s a combination of everything, and a good dose of ‘fuck it’s, from being young, and dumb, despite it all.

You’re not sure who leans in first but, before it even fully registers, his lips glide over yours. There’s some awkward teeth clacking involved, probably from the fact both of you are way too full of nerves over this, but Reo fixes it and begins to trace his tongue over the small opening of your lips. You move your hands straight to his locks, still damp from the earlier shower he took and the scent of lemongrass and citrus invades your nostrils.

Reo's kissing you as if he wants to swallow you whole. It's hungry, desperate, and intimate in a way that made your heart swell triple in size. The sounds of your beating chest floods your ears as he's pouring his emotions into the kiss, making sure that he's leaving behind evidence that his soul is yours to claim. The heat radiating off his body pulls you in, like an invitation, and you sink further into his touch.

After a moment, you pull back, hands still entangled in his hair.

“Your parents, aren’t you worried about—”

“I don’t pay mind to that type of stuff,” he presses a firm kiss on your forehead. “And you shouldn't have to either. That’s a future thing to worry about.”

That sounds good, you agree, but you’re growing too sleepy to voice it. Instead, you shut your eyes, reaching over blindly to find the edges of the blankets, tugging it up over you two. There’s really no way to move, without cramming at the edge of the mattress. You don’t care, and Reo doesn’t seem to, either.

“Hey, Reo?” You mumble as you both slip into silence.

“Yeah?” He’s tried, but awake enough to shake past the exhaustion, enough to form vague words. “What is it?”

You sit up, just a little, and it’s enough to inspire Reo to force his eyes open. You’re watching him, eyes intent, shining bright with emotion. It’s almost — just almost — enough to have Reo saying those three special little words. They’re right there, on the tip of his tongue, and only then he realizes that he’s terribly in love with you. He’s hopelessly in love. It’s way too early to say it, but he is.

You laugh, burying your face in Reo’s neck again, pressing a kiss there. “I’m glad that you’re here with me.”

Reo has hesitated a lot, during the past months. It’s taken him a while to get here. For once, though, awake or dreaming, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t hesitate.

“I’m glad too,” he mumbles, and then, he’s dreaming, of endless what if’s and possibilities with you now in his life.

additional note: idk why it took me over a month to pump this out LMAO but i hope you guys like the ending bc i was mulling over this chapter so many times before deciding to end it as such... anyways, I WILL BE BACK INTO MY BLLK FIC GROOVE HEHE gotta focus on my milestone fics + that ice skating rin series next :3 i love you guys and thanks again for being patient with me ;3

TAGLIST -CLOSED

@celestair @kitorin @popponn @yoisami @anurst @katsukiiishoe @yuzurins @vitaniangel-blog @kunikame @miwafei @astruoise @faeroow @wooasecret @limerence-lu @jaynawayna @iloveblogging2 @futuristicxie @rinlvr @au-ghosttype @wavetokio @yuusami @phtogravi @funnibunneh @idontevenknow129 @startaee @darthvada @livelaughloveisagiyoichi

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #doobea writing #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE #bllk reo #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #BYE THIS IS THE FINALE WHOO #why did this take me forever idk #what started out as a mini thing turned into long words uh oh #time to refocus on that rin ice skating thing...

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