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#surely he had a Unique reputation
marc--chilton · 2 months
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i wonder what house's peers thought of him in school
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arthenaa · 1 year
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carnal — sebastian sallow x fem!reader x ominis gaunt
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plot summary: Challenging two renowned Aurors responsible for almost half of the imprisonment of numerous dark wizards leads to you experiencing being hunted for your life during a celebratory party at the ministry.
warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, slight plot with porn, aged up characters (silver trio are in their mid 20's), sebastian and ominis are aurors, random ocs mentioned (i just shit out names tbh), random hp shit as well not sure some of them exist in the canon lore, reader is a magizoologist in a partnership w the ministry, they hunt u down (its all roleplay), dominis, switch seb, bottom reader, she/her prns is used for reader, ominis, you and seb like pulling each others hair lmfao, oral sex, p in v sex, choking, all the nasty stuff.
notes: inspired by @/pseudonymmcwriter i love prns fics pls you should check them out if ur into detroit become human <3 minors are highly discouraged from reading. read at your own risk. pt 2 of carnal.
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It was supposed to be a joke.
A jest at their occupation. You didn't mean to talk shit about their jobs as Aurors. You were merely joking around, influenced by the festivities around you. Although, you suppose you shouldn't have tried to joke around Slytherins at all. It was a celebratory party for the new head Auror, Ryona Bassett, who was praised for her leadership skills and achievements in finally capturing a dark wizard creating havoc in the wizarding world. It was due to this that she had gotten her promotion, a well-earned position on her part.
Of course, she couldn't have done it herself. As part of her plan to capture said wizard, she had formed a group of talented wizards and witches to aid her. Part of that group was you. The wise witch had apparated in front of your apartment in London, sitting on the bench like the menace that she is in hopes of recruiting you as part of her team (You had almost jumped out of your skin at the creepy sight).
It was because of your skills and experience in the field of magical creatures that led you to be recruited by Ryona Bassett. Dragons were said to be one of the weapons used in the dark wizard's plan, and well, who'd be perfect for the job other than you? As a magizoologist, your job enabled you to mostly work alone as it required intensive travel all over the world. Although you worked for the Care of the Magical Creatures department, you were more of a partner rather than an employee of the ministry. You saved Hogwarts during your 5th year, rescued the fate of the wizarding world after a dark wizard had tried yet again to sabotage the election of a new leader, and also nurtured and rescued beasts in your care.
Basically, you were a big shot, and y'know that big shots like you always get called for the important stuff, which is why you're where you are today.
Part of the said group was also none other than your two dearest friends; Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt, Aurors at the British Ministry of Magic. Sebastian and Ominis were the two people who Ryona had at her beck and call given that they did work in her division. However, these weren't the only reasons why she had chosen the two. They both had risen the ranks at a much faster rate than others ever since they joined the Auror office. This wasn't to your surprise considering the two often sneaked out in the safety of the Undercroft to practice spells out of Hogwarts' jurisdiction. Sebastian Sallow was known for his magical prowess in dueling and knowledge of the dark arts whilst Ominis Gaunt excelled more in tracking and hunting through magical traces. Despite his blindness, he had formed a unique connection to his wand, allowing him to sense and feel magic more sensitively than others. The two are quite formidable Aurors and built up a reputation as one.
They were also known to be the pair who almost filled half of Azkaban. They were that good.
It didn't help that they were also attractive. They were deemed to be the ministry's most desired bachelors of this era. You couldn't agree more.
It had been a while since the three of you were together in the same room. You kept your friendship low maintenance and would send an owl to each other here and there. To be honest, the low-maintenance friendship was more of you and them, but we don't need the specifics. After a long month of trying to catch Hugo Blaire (the dark wizard, yes), it wasn't a huge surprise that a party would be done in honor of the group's efforts and contribution to making another safe and sound day for the wizarding world.
You don't know how many glasses of champagne you had downed in the past hour, but you sure as hell won't be counting. You've been scanning the crowd, looking for a particular brunette and blonde amongst a sea of unfamiliar people.
It was tiring trying to keep up with the greetings and the conversations. You probably mispronounced multiple last names at this point, and you couldn't care any less at how many eye twitches and failed to keep horrified expressions you've seen in the past hour. Your assistant, Judy Beckham, decided to be your spokesperson at the start as she noticed that the glass on your hand seemed to have no plans leaving your grasp. It was funny seeing her play as your publicist as you had yet again purposefully mispronounced "Yaxley" to "Yackley? Yatley? Yale? Shitley?" (It was well deserved, to be honest. He was on your shitlist after he had tried to order your imprisonment when you were trying to rescue a Zouwu who had wreaked havoc in the streets of London. He claimed you were the one responsible for the mess... Which was partially true... But not all of it!)
"And that should be your final drink." A voice interrupted your thoughts before a hand grabbed the refillable glass in your hand, moving it away from your grasp. The scent of musk and wood immediately infiltrated your senses as your back feels the presence of another. You turn to face the culprit, smiling at him.
"Sebastian." You softly reply as you place a hand on his arm. "I was looking for you."
"As have I, darling." He chuckles before glancing at the glass in his hand, watching as it filled back up with champagne. "Though it seems you've already started to enjoy yourself."
"Refillable charms are a crime." You softly laugh in response. The Auror has a soft look on his face. You glance back at the center of the ball where Ryona stood alongside the rest of the crew, entertaining guests. "Aren't you supposed to be there?"
"You mean we?" He corrects as he places a hand on your waist. You feel butterflies in your stomach. You push it away.
"... Right."
"Where's the little redhead you're with?" Sebastian doesn't need to crane his head to survey the room. He was a tall motherfucker who was gifted with the lucky genes. You didn't know how much a person could grow knowing that he was the same height as you in your fifth year, then you were at his shoulder in your 7th. He was tall and attractive. A direct shit to your face.
"You mean Judy?" You raise an eyebrow at him despite mentioning her multiple times in your letters. He smiles a boyish grin at you.
"I saw her a moment ago trying to calm down August Yaxley from transfiguring you then and there. What'd you do this time?" You feel his thumb rubbing the material of your dress on your waist. His stare was unwavering as he encouraged a response out of you.
"Mispronounced his name. It was quite funny seeing the number of expressions running through his face. Quite a life-changing experience, if I do say so myself. As for Judy, she just gave up on me. She's probably drinking herself to death somewhere." You jest. He chuckles at your response before pulling his hand away from your waist. It almost made you whine at the loss, but you remember this is your best friend, and you shouldn't be whining like a submissive bitch in heat at the loss of his touch. "Where's Ominis?"
"Ah." He places the glass on the waiter's tray as one passes by before crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so attractive in his black three-piece suit with a silver chain hanging on his vest. It didn't help with the way the material of his coat stretched along his arms, fitting his physique perfectly. You wanted to drool. "He'll be here in a minute."
"That sounds oddly vague." You rest your weight on one leg as you copy his form. "What's he really doing?"
Sebastian rolls his eyes before raising his arms in defense. "You got me. He's finishing writing up and collecting final intel on another case."
"That quick? Damn." Your eyes widen in amusement.
"Remember that church we went to last week? A couple of days before Blaire's capture? The one in Glasgow." He recalls. You hum, remembering the place. "Turns out, there were other traces of dark magic there different from Blaire's lot. It was an infamous place for dark wizards to gather, and we were lucky enough to be able to hit two birds with one stone. Ominis was able to decipher the similarities of that dark magic to the ones he received from that hacienda back in the Philippines."
"That's amazing." You marvel at Ominis's tracking skills.
"I know. Bassett put us on the case right after this." Sebastian sighs. "Not sure if that's a blessing or a curse."
"Just shows how talented you guys are." You bite your lip as you pat his arm. Sebastian shakes his head.
"You had a hand in this, too." He gives you a pointed look. "If it weren't for our daring escapades, I wouldn't be where I am today."
"Yeah, right. If I recall correctly, you were the mastermind of it all."
"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't witness your magical prowess in ancient magic, Ms. Hero of Hogwarts." He leans in, pinching your cheek as he teases you. You flush in embarrassment at the title, trying to forget after years of hearing it multiple times to the point where all you wanted to do is obliviate the whole damn school. Wasn't it so hard to just say you saved the school? Why'd they have to press in the title 'Hero'? Thankfully, Sebastian's proximity made you forget an incoming war flashback of your time at Hogwarts. You would've died from cringe there and then.
"You two look cozy with each other. If I were from Daily Prophet, I'd already made millions from using this as gossip material." A new presence has arrived, startling you two out of your comfortable conversation. Sebastian sighs dramatically at his entrance.
"Ominis. You're late." Sebastian chastises jokingly as he watches his best friend glare in the direction of his voice. You might've laughed at Sebastian trying to act like a disappointed mother, but you were taking your time checking out the new addition to your little group. Similar to Sebastian, Ominis had also experienced a growth spurt. Nearly at the same height as the brunette beside you, the man embodies the essence of elegance and gallantry. His hair is in his usual slicked-back hairdo and wearing a dark blue three-piece set that matched his cloudy blue eyes. Ominis adjusts the tie on his neck with his free hand before moving close to you two with the guide of his wand.
"Thanks, Sebastian, for the obvious observation." He sarcastically replies before feeling for your hand and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. "Hello, love."
"You two practicing on your courting game or something?" You joke as you watch Ominis put down your hand gently. Sebastian tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he moves close to stand behind you. "I feel so flattered."
"It's just the bare minimum, dove." Sebastian leans in to whisper against your ear. He laughs softly as you move back, tickled by his breath. Ominis wasn't able to hear what the other Auror said and could only sigh in exasperation at Sebastian's antics.
"I heard you were finishing an intel report on a new case, Ominis." You change the subject as you rest your hand on his arm. Ominis places a hand on top of yours.
"Yes. Did Sebastian mess up again?" He turns to the direction of your voice with an accusing tone. "Don't answer. Of course he did."
"Hey! That's unfair of you to assume." Sebastian pouts.
"Am I wrong?" Ominis raises his eyebrow. Sebastian falls silent. "Thought so."
"Shut up."
"I am quite curious, though, did you ever have an instance that you weren't able to track someone?" You ask out of curiosity as your arm intertwines with Ominis's. You glance between the two as they pause to think. These two were deemed the best in the industry. Surely, the praises were exaggerated, right? You had a hard time tracking poacher locations, and you already had possession of ancient magic. Being the best doesn't entail 100% success.
"Nah." Sebastian answers nonchalantly. Ominis nods in agreement. "Sure, some took more time than others but everything's trackable."
You pause for a moment at their answers. "Really?"
"Yes. Everyone leaves tracks of magic every day. It's quite easy to decipher once you're used to it." Ominis adds, trying to convince you further. You hum, still unconvinced by their claims. Sebastian turns to you, looking at you with an unwavering stare. You tried to look back, but you could only glance away, not able to return it.
There's a moment of silence before the brunette breaks it off.
"You don't believe us, do you?" Sebastian says with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised in amusement. Ominis has an unreadable look on his face. You feel like you've offended them both with the way Sebastian's staring at you and Ominis's tense body.
"Well— I mean, surely not all right?" You sheepishly smile at him. Sebastian scoffs at you.
"I assure you, Y/N. When I track something, I get it done." Ominis turns his body towards you, causing your arm to fall from his. You look between the two as they continue to look at you with unreadable looks. You feel as though you've suddenly been cornered. Like you've done something worthy of their attention as Aurors and not as Sebastian and Ominis. This shouldn't excite you, but it did, and so you stupidly continued your plan on pissing them off.
Slytherins are known for one thing, and that's their drive for ambition and winning in competitive environments. What more to entertain yourself by pissing off not one but two snakes?
"Bullshit." You've resorted to using harsh methods. You could see the way Ominis's eye twitched and Sebastian's sudden change of posture. You were glad you met those boring guests back then, it certainly helped maintain a straight face. "Not even once?"
"Y/N." Sebastian takes a step close. "We're not kidding."
"Sure you are." You let out a giggle as you move a step back, trying to gauge their reactions. Ominis steps close to Sebastian's side as he clenches his jaw. This is fun.
Now, this is where the actual problem starts. You were having way too much fun trying to get a rise out of them that the words spewing out of your mouth were thought half-assed. You were joking but they we're taking it seriously.
"I'd bet my whole fucking body you won't be able to catch me. Even Bassett has a hard time getting me these days. What more of a challenge than a magizoologist to track, hm?" You laughed.
Bad move.
Bad fucking move, because all of a sudden, you could feel the tenacity of their stare. Even Ominis seemed like at that specific moment could see you and stare straight into your soul. You felt your body go rigid with nervousness.
The silence was long and uncomfortable. Both of them stood there, postures domineering and authoritative. You felt scared but at the same time, excited. You decided to make the first move.
"Guys?"
Sebastian licks his lips as he looks at Ominis before leaning close to his ear and whispering. The other Auror blinks slowly as he listens to him before nodding. Sebastian moves forward first.
"What's the bet again?" Sebastian smugly asks. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
"I'm afraid I'm not following—"
"You said you'd bet your whole body, right?" He reminds you. Your eyes widen in response.
"I wasn't serious about it." You try to reason with them.
"We weren't joking in the first place. You know we've always liked you. Why not take advantage of a little opportunity, hm?" Sebastian says with a low voice as he raises a hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with eyes that seemed to mock you. You felt slightly ashamed but tried to keep your confidence afloat.
It was common knowledge that the two best friends pined after you. Ever since your 5th year, the two had fallen irrevocably in love with everything about you. You knew. They knew you knew and yet a silent pact was made between the two to never make a move on you as they didn't know how you felt and didn't deem it worthy as the fall of their friendship. You were glad somehow but also saddened because you never really chose between them. You liked them both. But they didn't need to know that. Right?
Well, it seems as if they're testing you right now, and with the amount of alcohol in your system combined with their dark looks trained on you, you wouldn't be surprised if you did admit your attraction to both of your best friends.
"Aw, are you scared?" Sebastian taunts. Ominis only stands behind him, posture calm and collected as he listens to his partner speak for him.
"Shut the fuck up." You reply in a weak voice, feeling intimidated by their aura. Ominis lets out a soft laugh. "I was joking about it in the first place—"
"Ah, ah." Sebastian grasps your chin in his hand, turning your face towards him. "You said it first. We're just finishing the job."
You let out a shaky breath as they continue to move closer and into your space. Sebastian's thumb caresses your bottom lip as he stares at you with want and desire.
"Let's be clear here, darling. The only reason why Bassett can't properly find you is that it's her that's finding you." Sebastian mumbles lowly. You could feel the grip on your chin tightening. Your knees tremble at his domineering hold on your face as your core begins to burn with arousal. "You've never had us."
Shit.
It's Ominis that sets the final nail in the coffin. He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Ryona's going to give a final speech in the next few minutes."
A hand slithers across the small of your back before grabbing your waist, pulling you close to him. You let out a small moan at the harsh movement before the lips against your ear continue to move. "We're going to give you 30 seconds to move. You got that, sweetheart?"
A soft kiss placed on both sides of your neck makes you whimper as both of them pull away from you. You watch as Sebastian casts a final look at you before both of them disappear into the crowd. You stand with knees weak and mind in shambles as you hear the crowd cheer at Ryona's entrance. She waves into the crowd and suddenly you're face with an existential crisis.
We're you suppose to move during? Or after? Did you have to hide? Fuck, did the 30 seconds already start? You couldn't grasp a single thing in your mind as your eyes tried to find the familiar backs of the two. It seemed all the eerier that you didn't know where they were. It was like a predator hiding and waiting for the perfect chance to pounce. So as the submissive prey that you are, you began to move.
You squeezed your way through heaps of people. Ryona's speech was already considered background noise for you. You had reached the east entrance, sighing in relief before a pair of hands stop you from reaching freedom. You could almost feel your heart drop before exhaling a big breath at the sight of your assistant, Judy Beckham.
"Where were you? I was looking everywhere for you!" Judy worries like the inner mother that she is. You could almost coo at her concern over your well-being but the thought of two Aurors after your ass was more pressing than the worried redhead in front of you.
"Listen, Judy. If ever you come across Sebastian and Ominis, tell them I went to the west side of the building." You smile widely as you hold her arms tight within your grasp. Judy raises her eyebrow in confusion.
"Y/N, you're not making sense—"
"Please!" You plead as you pull her closer to your face. The girl cranes her head back at the proximity. "I'm in grave danger if those two ever find me. Be a gal and lie, okay?"
Judy stares at you for a few seconds before sighing. "West. Got it."
"Thank you!" You grab her for a quick hug before bolting through the doors. Your heels clack noisily on the marble floor as you rushed through the partially empty corridors of the ministry. You pass by familiar faces who you kindly shoot a smile at.
"Fucking heels—" You groan as you reach for the devil traps on your feet, pulling them off and continuing your escape barefoot. You manage to reach the hallway to the elevator before a voice causes you to pause and crouch down to hide.
"Y/N." Ominis's tender voice echoes throughout the empty corridor. You hide in a corner as you watch his figure pass by the elevator. Great, the easiest way out was already guarded. You should've thought that ahead. "I know you're here."
You remain silent as you watch Ominis pace back and forth slowly, face looking calm and collected. You assess your surroundings, looking for a way to escape.
"Do you want to know why I know you're here?" Ominis asks which catches your attention. You check behind you to ensure that no Sebastian was sneaking up on you to catch you off guard. You wait for him to reply. "You've always had a particular magical aura. I sensed a glimpse of it when you entered the doors of the Great Hall in our 5th year, then it grew bigger and stronger when I saw you exit the Undercroft. Magical auras tend to vary according to a wizard or witch's personality and most of them feel loud and ... unnerving. You, however, shine like sunlight on a sunny day. A gentle breeze at the start of autumn."
Your breath hitched as you hear his footsteps halt. You feel your cheeks heat up at his declaration, you bite your lip as you wait to hear more. "I felt attached to you because of it. Like a moth to a flame. Do you think spending years by your side that I haven't got your aura ingrained in my head? I suppose that's what I get for falling for you."
Fuck. You don't know where he went. It seems as if one moment you knew he was there and then the next he was gone. You peek into the hallway, glancing back and forth.
You knew you shouldn't have let your guard down. You knew that you were faced with someone who was so used to tracking and feeling magic differently and more sensitively than others that it became an extra sense to them. You feel his breath before his touch.
"It's the very reason why I sense you right away. You're leaking your tracks everywhere, love." He speaks lowly against your ear. With a harsh shove and a twist of your arm to your back, he pushes you against the wall with your front against the hard surface.
"O-Ominis, wait!—" You try to plead but the Auror only presses you more against the wall. He had your arm twisted against your back with a hold of your wrist. His chest pressed against yours and his face on the side of your neck.
"That fast?" He mocks you as he laughs closely against your ear. You try to push back against his grip but you remain defenseless.
"Fuck you."
"You wish." He mumbles lowly in your ear. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent before placing possessive kisses against it. You let out sighs of pleasure before groaning in pain as Ominis grabs your head by your hair and angles it for more room on your neck.
"Let me go." You breathlessly beg as you allow him to pepper kisses against your neck. You wish to stay there and then but you knew that the boys wanted a bit more fun. After all, you wanted to get the most out of this once-in-a-lifetime situation.
"Now, why would I do that?" Ominis bites your ear lobe as he grinds his hips against your ass. You try to turn your head towards him.
"Cause you love a good chase, right? This barely counts as one." You tempt him, grinding back against his moving hips. He lets out an amused laugh, letting go of your wrist as he encloses his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against him. You bask in his presence, head falling back on his shoulder. He turns his head to the side, placing more kisses on your neck before biting on your shoulder. You let out a soft moan.
"I'm giving you another 15 seconds. Run as fast as you can." He whispers in your ear before sensually moving his arms off your waist. He takes 5 steps back before motioning the empty corridor with a nudge of his hand. You lick your lips before running away from him.
Ominis tilts his head back as he pants from the arousal, running his fingers through his neatly styled hair before a voice enters his mind.
"Are you on your way?" Sebastian asks. Ominis rolls his eyes before fixing his coat. Sebastian often flexed his magical abilities, especially this one he had learned recently. The ability to communicate through the mind. His best friend was a natural student of magic, curious to the wizarding world and desperate in learning all of it as he is a son to two former educators. This was also what made him a pain in the ass.
"I let her go. She's on her way to you." He replies as he takes his time following your trail. He's sure if he made a run for it now, he'd get you in no time. But he decides to play by your rules.
"Fucker. Did you get a taste?" He hears Sebastian chuckle through their shared mind connection.
"Get the fuck out of my head before I get her myself."
"You're hot when you're angry, y'know?" Sebastian purrs. Ominis grunts at his flirt. "Got it, sir."
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You don't know how long you've run. Most of the ministry departments were empty due to the large celebration on one of the building's halls. Everyone was there and the only creatures patrolling the halls were Matagots. They were formidable creatures who easily sensed intruders so if there was a breach in security, a single spell cast on a Matagot would immediately alert all of you. You've decided to stop at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as you deduced that Sebastian would probably be on standby in front of the elevator when it reached the ground level. At least here, you were close to the ground floor and there's a passageway that leads you down to the ground floor discreetly (you'd have to thank Hank, the house elf in charge of the elevator for that one).
Also because you've chosen this floor, consequently you knew you were on the floor where the Auror office is located. Which means, Sebastian and Ominis's floor. This is probably the least floor to logically be on but you probably (emphasis on probably) knew that they wouldn't check here. The passageway was located at the Head Auror's office and so you just need to sneak your way in and easily escape.
Unfortunately, Merlin was being a bitch.
As soon as you opened the entrance to the Auror division, you gasp quietly at Sebastian leaning against the doors to the Head Auror's office, twirling his wand elegantly between his fingers.
"Fancy seeing you here." Sebastian smiles so innocently. You stand on alert as he moves away from the double doors and towards you with careful steps.
"How'd you know?" You ask as you take steps back with every step forward from the man in front of you. Sebastian shrugs.
"When you're well versed with the dark arts, it's quite easy to detect certain things." Sebastian hums. "Or maybe it's just basic logic. After all, you have to think ahead of your opponent."
You continue to take a step back before your back meets a surface that wasn't originally there. You turn around to see the very same man who had given you a moment of mercy.
"Again?" Ominis smiles with pity, pretending to have no clue as to why he found you yet again. You let out a loud gasp before rushing to the one side of the room to move away from them both. The two stalk toward you like predators. You could feel your breath shortening with nervousness as they cornered you to a wall. You had no way out. You discreetly glance around you before seeing an opening to the Head Auror's office. In a moment of panic and sheer bravery, you bolt down towards the double doors leading to your escape, trying to get one last chance to run away.
Sebastian snarls as he runs after you. Ominis stands behind, arms behind his back as he lets his partner handle the work. You could feel the fast thumps of his foot against carpeted floor as your hands try to open the overly complicated entrance. You clumsily open the door before a set of strong arms grab your waist and pull you away from your only chance of escaping. You scream in retaliation before a hand covers your mouth.
"Bad, bad girl." Sebastian huffs as he presses you against his chest, hand on your mouth as he watches you fight back in his grasp. His hands then move to reposition themselves. One hand wraps around your waist while the other grabs your neck and grips it back to lay your head back against his shoulder. "Should I cast Oscausi on you for being so fucking loud, hm?"
"Sebastian." Ominis calls his attention before nodding to one of the open and empty offices. He moves towards the two of you as Sebastian pulls you to the empty roomwith Ominis locking the door behind him. "Stop scaring her."
"Do you think she looks scared?" Sebastian raises his eyebrow as he settles on a desk, pulling you to his lap. You shake, riddled with sensitivity as Sebastian continues to grip your neck. Ominis raises his hands, gliding up your arms before feeling Sebastian's hold on your neck and then moving up to your face. He feels the heat from your cheeks, the dryness of your lips and hears the soft little gasps and moans escaping your mouth. You were aroused and completely at their mercy. Ominis smiles as he runs his thumb against your bottom lip before leaning in close.
"We won, little dove. Are you ready?" He gently asks. Sebastian gently eases on his grip but remains his hold on your neck. You look up at Ominis and softly brush your lips against his.
"Just fuck me already." You pant, blunt with your response as the two fall into silence.
"Fuck." Ominis curses before surging in to press his lips against yours. Sebastian almost falls back at the sudden pressure but recollects himself as he busies with kissing your neck.
Hands begin to grope at your body. Sebastian's hands gripped your waist as he moved his hips up against yours, his bulge rubbing against your heat. Ominis cups the nape of your neck to angle you for a deeper kiss. You open your mouth, allowing the blonde to intertwine his tongue with yours.
"You're so fucking pretty," Sebastian mumbles shakily as he continues to place more marks on your neck, taking advantage of a sweet spot as you moan in surprise. "She's so fucking beautiful, Ominis."
"Yeah?" Ominis responds breathlessly as he pulls away for a moment before diving in for more. "Of course, she is."
Your hands find their way into their respective hairs. Gripping the roots tightly as you pull them closer to you. The two groan in pleasure. The three of you continue to make out before Ominis pulls you back with a tug on your hair.
"On your knees, baby." He licks his lips, savoring your taste on his lips. "Suck Sebastian off."
You pant as you look back at the brunette behind you who looks at you two with lust in his eyes. Sebastian smiles smugly. "You heard the man."
You giggle before rising from his lap, placing a chaste kiss on Sebastian's lips before kneeling in between his legs. Ominis moves to your left as you unbuckle his slacks before pulling down to expose his member, watching as it slapped heavily in between his thighs. Taking his cock in your hands, you gather your drool in your tongue before dripping it down your mouth as a form of lubricant. You perform swift up-and-down motions to start it off.
"Fuck, that's it." Sebastian moans as he runs his hands through your disheveled hair. Ominis listens to his moans before feeling his way up Sebastian's shoulder and finding it's way into his curls. He grips his hair and crane his head towards him. Sebastian moans loudly at Ominis's hold on him.
"Tell me what she looks like," Ominis whispers into his ear as he places wet kisses on his jaw before biting his earlobe. He then harshly pushes his head down towards you which gives you a signal to start using your mouth on him. You lean down to take his cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as you use your hands to take what you can't fit in.
Sebastian chokes his moan as he feels Ominis's grip on his head become tighter. "S-She's taking it all in. Like a good fucking girl."
Ominis hums at his response. You look up towards Sebastian innocently as you pull slightly back, sucking on his tip before you twirl your tongue around it like a lollipop.
"F-fuck— Ah. She— She looks so perfect with my cock in her— A-ah! I-In her mouth. Look's so fucking pretty— Merlin's beard." Sebastian stumbles over his words as you bob your head faster. Ominis smirks against Sebastian's cheek before he speaks parseltongue into the brunette's ear. You feel the shiver and twitch of Sebastian's hips as his face becomes flushed red at Ominis's hypnotic speaking of the language of snakes.
It seems as if Sebastian enjoyed it too much as a hand wraps itself around his neck, gripping it tight as Ominis continues to speak in tongues to his ear. Sebastian whimpers, eyes rolling back before the blonde moves his grip on his neck to his jaw to pull him into a deep kiss.
You moan at the sight of the two making out, encouraging you to give the best fucking head Sebastian Sallow has ever fucking had in his life. With a twist of your hand and fast bobs of your head, Sebastian archs his back in sensitivity, breaking away from his kiss with Ominis. His body curls as he grips your hair, pulling you away from his dick.
"F-fuck wait." Sebastian whines as he pants, not handling the intense pleasure from your mouth on his dick and Ominis's mouth on his, especially the fucking parseltongue. He almost came in your mouth if it weren't for his swift reaction. You twist your hand over his tip to tease him. He then transfers his hand from your hair to your neck, gripping it firmly. "I said wait. Can't follow simple fucking instructions. Get up."
You whimper as Sebastian pulls you up from the floor through the grip on your neck before moving his hands to grip the back of your thighs to carry up you and wrap them against his waist. He settles you down on the desk before pushing you back to lie down on it. Ominis moves to the other side of the desk where your head is placed. The two make haste on pulling your clothes off of you, leaving you bare and naked on the wooden surface.
"Fucking gorgeous," Sebastian mutters under his breath as he runs his hands on your thighs before pulling them apart to stare at your pussy. Ominis runs his hands on your chest, groping your breasts into his hands. The blonde groans at the feeling of your body within his grasp. He remembers dreaming of this very moment and it's now within the palms of his hands (literally).
Sebastian pushes your thighs up against your chest and you whine in embarrassment at the exposing position. Sebastian chuckles at your sudden shy behavior. "Don't worry, it'll pass. I'll make sure of it."
You could barely process Ominis's groping on your upper body before you feel Sebastian's tongue on your cunt. You gasp at the sudden feeling which makes Ominis smile.
"Sebastian, wait—"
"I told you to wait awhile ago, why would I do that?" Sebastian retorts before diving in and devouring your pussy like a man finally quenching his thirst. His tongue licks back and forth on your clit before sucking it. He then presses the flat of his tongue, moving it up and down before using the tip and move in circular motions. He slurps the juices dripping out of your pussy, moaning at the taste. The vibration of his moan causes you to moan loudly in pleasure.
"Sebastian— Oh fuck! fuck.. fuck!" You pant as you grip Ominis's arms, taking what Sebastian's giving. "Don't stop, please please please please!"
"Yeah?" Ominis leans down to caress your face, feeling the tears drip down the side of your face. "Little dove crying because you feel too good, hm? Poor girl."
You sob as Sebastian continues to assault your pussy with his tongue. Pleasure courses through your veins as the brunette between your legs manhandle you into the position he desires. Ominis basks in the sounds of your moans and the wet and messy slurps of Sebastian's work. His cock twitches against his pants. He eases the pain by using his free hand to rub against the front of his slacks. You look up at Ominis who continues to caress your face. "Ominis..."
"Hm?"
"Kiss me." You whine softly as you feel a knot slowly build up in your stomach. Sebastian continues to eat you up and a building pressure reveals itself in the process. Ominis smiles at you before leaning to place a kiss on your lips, upside down. He swallows your moans of pleasure as he pushes in his tongue, slowly and passionately kissing you deeply.
Sebastian glances up from his position, furrowing his eyebrows at the loss of your pathetic moaning. He smirks as he sees you focused on kissing Ominis before deciding to take matters into his own hands. He moves up to your clit, focusing the attention of his tongue there before adding the usage of his hand, gently rubbing the entrance of your cunt. You gasp at the sensation before yelping at the insertion of a finger inside.
"Ah!" You pull away from Ominis in the process as Sebastian eases his fingers into you. The brunette glances at the blonde with a smirk and a light chuckle. Ominis definitely heard that.
"Feel good, pretty girl?" Sebastian hums against the side of your thigh as he watches his finger go in and out of you before adding another one. You let out a measly moan in response. "I need to hear an answer."
"M-Mhm." You moaned out as he begins to curl his fingers up, pushing it deep within you. Sebastian pushes back against your clit, sucking it and licking it well for you. The sensation of his tongue and fingers begin to bring you closer to the edge. "Oh, fuck."
"Close?" Ominis whispers as he leans down against your ear. You let out short breaths as you feel the knot slowly unravel. Sebastian enters another finger as he speeds up the process. His fingers begin to reach depths even yours couldn't reach. It felt so fucking good as the tips of his fingers brush against a sensitive spot within you that jolts your back into an arch. It was there yet it wasn't. Sebastian's tongue flicks and sucks faster against your clit as you descend rapidly into the madness.
"Let me cum, please. please." You whined as your hand reaches up to intertwine with Ominis's locks. The blonde torments you from above as he sucks marks alongside Sebastian's work during his time on your neck from awhile ago.
"Go ahead, pretty girl," Ominis whispers in your ear alongside Sebastian's ministrations. The knot unravels fast as your body shakes violently in their care. Your orgasm is hard and slow as Sebastian does his best to lengthen it, your thighs crushing his head close against your heat. You let out long and loud moans as your body rises from the desk in the process. Ominis grabs you against his chest, kissing the side of your head softly as Sebastian continues his assault between your thighs, making sure to slurp every last bit of your release. "There you go."
"Stop, stop!" You reach a hand down, trying to push his face away from your heat. You let out a small laugh from the sensitivity as he continues to mouth your cunt.
"Tastes so fucking good," Sebastian growls as he pulls away, lips red and chin dripping with your arousal. He places a gentle kiss on your clit as you twitch in sensitivity at the action before kissing his way upwards and pulling you into a deep kiss. Your tongues intertwine as your back rests against Ominis's chest. The blonde's hand runs through Sebastian's locks, gently petting his head as the two of you kiss. His free hand moves to where your lips are connected, probing his index finger within your tongue as he tries to feel you two kiss. Ominis lets out a shaky sigh at the feel of your tongues moving against one another before you two pull away.
The brunette looks up at you with a smile. "How'd you want us?"
You take a breath as Sebastian places a chaste kiss on your cheek while Ominis places one on the side of your head. "Ominis inside. You get my mouth. He's been on the sidelines for way too long."
Sebastian nods with a cheeky grin. "Got no complaints there."
Ominis places a kiss on your forehead as he helps you up before exchanging places with Sebastian. The brunette sits on the desk as you stand between them with Ominis behind you. You hear the rustling of clothes behind you before turning around to look. Ominis had taken off his coat and bottoms, leaving him bare from the waist down. His cock slaps heavily up against his stomach, dripping pre-cum from the amount of waiting he had done. Throughout your sexual escapade, Ominis opted to listen in on your and Sebastian's pleasure than himself. He was more of a observer, preferred ordering the two of you and revel in the moans and pants pulled by pleasure. You take a note to spoil him further in the future.
He pulls you back against his chest as he moves close to you and Sebastian. The brunette cups your cheek, placing a peck on your lips before he travels his hand to the top of your head and pushing you down gently to his cock. You eagerly use your mouth to pleasure him, slipping it inside and try to take him all in.
"Damn, fuck. Can never get used to this. Your mouth is a fucking haven, baby." Sebastian curses as he feels the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. You choke slightly at the deepness of his dick before bobbing up and then down, forming a rhythm. The brunette tilts his head back in pleasure, letting out soft moans as his fingers tighten within your locks. Ominis listens in on his moans as he uses his wand to conjure a lubricating charm before pumping his dick for a bit of stimulation. He lets out a moan before pressing the his cock against your folds.
You moan at the feeling of a new sensation against your heat. Ominis places a hand on his shaft, rubbing the tip against your folds. He slides it against your clit, moving it in circular motions and hears your appreciative moan. His free hand then grabs your waist as leverage before finally positioning the tip against your entrance. "I'm pushing in, love."
You hum against Sebastian's dick in response before feeling the pressure of Ominis's cock split you open. He was a bit longer than Sebastian but the brunette was thicker. The two were already considered big and the moment that you felt the two of them inside you made you all the more conscious of their size. You whimper against Sebastian's cock, unable to move as Ominis continues to slide in his cock.
Sebastian glances down at your tear-stricken face, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Ominis bottoms out with a groan, letting you adjust for a moment before beginning to move. The jostle of Ominis's hips propels your forward causing Sebastian's dick to go deeper inside your mouth.
"Yeah. Liked getting fucked by Ominis?" Sebastian taunts as he brushes your hair away from your face. A bruising grip on your hips that you're sure will mark you in the morning, pulls you back with every thrust. Ominis's cock reaches depths farther than Sebastian's fingers, the curve of his dick and the ridges alongside it brushes deliciously against the soft walls of your pussy.
You moan in response as Sebastian begins to move his hips, thrusting into your mouth. You choke as you feel his throat touch the back of your throat once again.
"Support her upper body." Ominis orders. Sebastian places a hand on your shoulders as Ominis grabs both of your hands, twisting them against your lower back, holding them both with one hand as he suspends your upper body in the air with Sebastian's help. The position allows you to be completely at their mercy as Sebastian fucks your mouth at this point and Ominis's thrusts go deeper, faster and harsher.
You can only shriek and moan against Sebastian's cock as you take what they give you. Sebastian feels his release fast approaching, hips stuttering. "Holy fuck, I'm close."
You allow him to use your mouth as he pleases, thrusting fast into your mouth as he moans loudly at the process. Ominis leans down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before growling in your ear. "Don't waste a single fucking drop."
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and it seems as if Sebastian also heard it. The brunette releases with a choked moan, spurting his release into your mouth. He moans as his hips jerk in sensitivity, emptying it all before slumping on the desk. You swallow it all before coughing, finally being able to breathe.
Ominis takes this as an opportunity to fuck you harder.
"O-Ominis!" Your voice raises in pitch as his hips hammer against yours. He releases your arms, opting to pull you up against his chest. His hands busy themselves with your breasts as he grunts into the crook of your neck. "O-Oh fuck. Right there."
Sebastian smiles lazily as he watches his best friend rail you to the point that your eyes roll back in pleasure. To give you a more pleasurable experience, he raises a hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, gripping it with enough pressure to hear you whine and moan.
"Yeah, that's fucking right baby. Sebastian's choking you again? You love that shit." Ominis growls against your ear as he pounds your tight pussy. He angles his hips to hit that spot that Sebastian grazed over with his fingers, pulling louder moans from you. Your eyes lock with Sebastian's as Ominis fucks you from behind.
"Pretty girl's crying because you're fucking her too good." Sebastian laughs as he leans forward to kiss your tears away. Ominis chuckles against your neck. You could feel your release fast approaching as a hand makes it's way down to where you're connected.
"Mm, stretched so fucking well for me." Ominis hums before moving to your clit and circling it fast deliciously. Your moans get louder.
"Ominis, Sebastian!" You whine as you feel your release fast approaching. Sebastian tightens his grip on your throat making your moans choked as Ominis fucks you faster and deeper.
Already feeling the edge of his release, Ominis rubs faster as his hips stutter. His pace becomes harder and harsher. "Cum baby. Cum."
You let out a high-pitched whine before finally reaching your climax. Your knees shake, almost giving you up before Ominis grips you up, supporting you against his chest. You let out loud moans as your orgasm wreaks havoc throughout your body in violent shakes. Tears stream down your face at the intensity of your release and Sebastian smiles at the beauty of it all. Ominis continues to pump his cock inside, reaching for his release. "Where?"
"Inside. I-I'm on the potion. Please, cum inside." You moan as you lock eyes once again with Sebastian, his grip loosening from your neck as he pulls you into a kiss. Ominis grunts before releasing inside. He moans loudly, bottoming out as he orgasms. "Good girl."
You rest your upper body in Sebastian's embrace, waiting for Ominis to finish before whimpering as the blonde pulls out. Ominis runs a hand down to your cunt before pushing the cum back in. Sebastian chuckles as he hears you let out another weak moan.
There's a moment of comfortable silence as you three catch you breath from the amount of strenuous activities you've done in the past few hours.
"Damn, that was probably the best sex of my life." Sebastian chuckles, breaking the silence as he pulls you fully into his embrace. You rest your head on the crook of his neck while Ominis runs a hand through his hair.
"I'm so tired." You groan in exhaustion. "I'm not moving a single fucking muscle. This is both of your fault."
"Me too? It's Ominis who you should be blaming. The man was railing you to fucking oblivion." Sebastian jests which receives a harsh smack on the back of his head. You chuckle at the crisp sound of Ominis's palm hitting Sebastian's head.
"You literally fucked my throat. Sore throats are a bitch to cure." You weakly pull away from Sebastian's embrace, feeling the ache on your ass. Ominis notices your discomfort from your grunts of pain.
"Did I go too far?" The blonde shyly asks. You turn to look at him with a soft smile. You had the hardest and best fucking orgasm of your life and now this man was acting all shy and cute after he had just practically destroyed any other chance of another person reaching that kind of level with you. You couldn't really blame him after he had just ascended you to a different realm with his dick. Sebastian helps you up before you place a kiss on Ominis's lips.
"Don't worry. I loved it." You reassure him. Sebastian and Ominis help you get dressed before the two focus on their garments. Sebastian casts a cleaning charm to any suspicious fluids that might have touched any surface while Ominis casts Reparo to the destroyed piles of paper scattered on the floor (a product of their haste to fuck you moments ago).
There's a moment of silence after cleaning up as the three of you stand, fully clothed in the empty office space. This time, Ominis makes the first move. "I assume from all that's happened that you know we're still pretty much in touch with our feelings for you."
Sebastian looks at you, assessing your facial expressions as you looked at them both. Sebastian continues. "This can be a one-time thing if you don't want to delve deeper into it. We also don't mind if you prefer one over the other. Our friendship will remain intact, that I assure you."
You look at them both as their body language speaks of nervousness and fear of rejection. You doubt your friendship will ever be fixed if you chose one of them. You roll your eyes playfully. "I literally just got fucked by both of you and you're telling me to choose one?"
"I— well." Ominis tries to reason. Sebastian is silent for a moment before shrugging in agreement.
"I mean she's got a point." The brunette chuckles. You limp towards them, Sebastian's hand reaching out for you while Ominis's arm wraps around your waist.
"I assume you're choosing us both, correct?" Ominis clarifies. You chuckle at his need for reassurance before reaching up to place a kiss on his lips before turning to Sebastian to give him one as well.
"Yes. I am." You firmly answer. Ominis lets out a smile while Sebastian laughs softly. "Now please apparate me home, I'm not walking another fucking corridor after what you guys put me through."
"Yes Ma'am."
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A/N: ITS DONE OFMHDHDH this took way too long but I had fun writing it. It's my first time writing filth and I hope it was up to satisfaction 😭🧎‍♂️🫶 will probs cringe at this in the future. TYSM.
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celestemona · 3 months
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WHERE KAEDEHARA CLAN RISES UP ONCE AGAIN
a when they're dads au introduction
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pairing: dad & husband! kaedehara kazuha x fem! reader
cw: established relationship, you and kazuha are married and have children. original characters. domestic and parenting universe. quick pregnancy mention. slightly ooc to fit the plot. fluff and not beta read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
part i. | part ii.
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Considering that Kaedehara Kazuha’ only reputation was his mild personality and free spirit, no one believed that the wandering samurai would one day be able to pause his travels and settle down to a monotonous, homely life.
So you can imagine the surprise that’d be among the fishing and sailing communities throughout Teyvat when they discovered that the white-haired man had not settled down but also married and had children.
Surely it only could be a prank because, after all, was there even a possibility of that happening?
Well, this answer was given by a drunk and laughing Captain Beidou who showed to curious and shocked eyes a photo of his wedding held by the Crux fleet itself on a small and isolated island in Inazuma.
If the residents and locals didn't know her so well they might think the pirate captain was lying. However, looking at the photo closer, the way Kazuha looked at you while you smiled back at him confirmed the undeniable: the man was madly in love with you.
After that, with the help of a few barrels of rum and beer, the story of your love was shared. From you falling from the sky directly (and literally) into the samurai's arms, to the blossoming of your relationship; the ups and downs faced to the marriage proposal, and then the small family's decision to leave the seas to rebuild the Kaedehara Clan together.
Oh, well… Beidou may have let escape one more detail since dozens of wide eyes stared at her in astonishment at this information. However, she was pretty sure Kazuha wouldn't mind if she told them a little bit more about his new life as patriarch of the clan and his greatest prides. You, his wife, and your three children.
The samurai himself didn’t believe that one day he could be so fortunate and blessed to have the opportunity to return to a happy and noisy home. His days as a teenager left him with a deep scar in his heart since his relationship with his father, at first, wasn’t one of the best and therefore staying away from the place that was once his home was the best decision to be made.
Not only had the distance from Inazuma changed his perspective but also an insecurity had blossomed in the back of his mind where he feared that one day he’d make the same mistakes as his father.
Even so, after you entered his life, the only feeling he had when he set foot in the old estate was pure warmth and belonging. Love and serenity that not even his children, while yelling and playing around the mansion, could shake it.
Kiyomi, his middle and only daughter, was, most of the time, responsible for the laughter and noises in the house. Both you and your husband didn't know where she had inherited such an extroverted and mischievous personality, causing you to grow a few strands of gray hair and eliciting genuine laughs from Kazuha. There was no denying that the girl had a temperament as unique as her beauty, which was a mixture between yours and your husband's. And as the only girl in the family it was undeniable to say that Kazuha loved the ground she walked on. Nevertheless, neither you nor your husband would change anything about her, loving and being proud of your daughter the way she is  — because if there’s something prettier about Kiyomi was her heart as big as her stubbornness.
Clearly, the affection of the two parents wasn’t limited to just the girl but also extended to the two sons.
Kazumi is your firstborn son and only three years older than Kiyomi. With such a small age difference, some parents would expect there to be a certain amount of rivalry and jealousy between the siblings, but Kazumi was his father's son in both appearance and personality. With such a sneaky smile and a relaxed attitude, he was often mistaken for Kazuha himself — even sharing the same mindset of preferring to go with the flow rather than worry about small, insignificant things. This didn't apply to situations where you or his siblings were in danger, of course. After all, he took the title of older son and brother very seriously.
Shortly before his tenth birthday, Kazumi had learned and inherited the techniques of the Isshin Art which even took Kazuha himself an entire decade to re-learn. Unlike his ancestors, the current patriarch would teach his children the clan's secret technique so that the art would remain alive. Whether his children would dedicate themselves to it or not will depend on each of them.
Kiyomi didn't seem too interested, neither did Kazumi.
You, though, hoped that one of your children would carry the bladesmithing practices forward but you were also happy to see each of your children following their own path. If not even Haruki, your youngest son who was known to be as hungry for knowledge as any sage of Sumeru himself, seemed enchanted by this idea then ​​the Kaedehara Clan must expanding its businesses in other areas.
The youngest Kaedehara was the prodigy and the pride of the entire family. Your third pregnancy was a big surprise in the house but very well welcomed. Kazumi had just turned ten and Kiyomi was awaiting her seventh birthday when the fragile little Haruki arrived into the world on a autumn morning — although, the first few months that followed weren’t very pleasant as your baby's health was poor, leaving both you and Kazuha with your nerves always on edge.
However, with the help of your friends, the traveler, the Crux fleet, and even Yae Miko’s divine blessing, little by little Haruki managed to recover and finally grow up healthily.
Unlike his brothers who always seemed to be somewhere or running around, Haruki preferred to stay at home surrounded by the comfort of his parents' presence or his books. It took little time for you and Kazuha to realize that at a young age he was already reading advanced-level books and scrolls, and was interested in subjects that even adults would find boring. So it was also no surprise either when an invitation to study at Akademiya arrived at your home just before the boy's thirteenth birthday.
Needless to say there was a huge party before his departure to Sumeru where on one side there was you crying at the sudden departure of your son, Kazuha consoling you and a very happy Beidou getting all the guests drunk.
So, yes. If someone asked Kazuha about what he thought of this new life of his, he wouldn't lie when he answered them that it was a very different reality from the one he had projected years ago. There would always be something to worry about, his days were almost the same, rarely leaving the routine, and every now and then the desire to reach new horizons would always call him.
But in the end of the day, he wouldn't trade a second of his life by your side for his old one. Because, after all, he’s already living the biggest adventure of his life with you by his side, and if there’s something that Kazuha was sure of, it'd be that there’s nothing in the world so rewarding as having your company.
.
.
a/n: i must confess that i have this plot on my drafts for almost two years now but i’ve never found will enough on myself to sit down and write it. nevertheless, i’m thankful for my mind to remind me of this plot and make me re-write new ideas.
those who knows me, or not, must’ve know that i really do love parenting, domestic and pregnancy universe so not so often i caught myself writing about it. it’s so relaxing and enjoyable to picture these guys as dad idk.
i hope you’ve liked it so far. i would like to share more about this headcanon too in a possible future so let me know if you want to know something more about the kaedehara clan. thank you so much, bye!
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES :*+゚
in which: you thought nagi was dating you for media reputation... so why does this relationship feel suspiciously real?
warnings: 11.9k words, pro-soccer player!nagi x physiotherapist!gn!reader, reader has hair, lots of food, not at all a realistic story but that's okay pls don't come for me, SLOOWWWWBURN, fake-dating au, reader is oblivious :<
a/n: goodness. if this flops i will cry bc i spent way too long this for it to be healthy for me. enjoy !
↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊
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nagi approaches you the day after his name goes viral.
you weren’t doing anything spectacular, merely putting away all the kits and equipment you’d used for the day when the white-haired soccer player approaches you, his hands in his pockets, strolling over to you as he would on any occasion. 
your heart races- as it does whenever he’s around, regardless of said occasion, but what tumbles out of his mouth next was worthy of ceasing your heart rate all together.
“wanna date?”
you’re speechless. malfunctioning as you register what he’s saying. the sheer casualness of it all is alarming and you have to snap yourself back into your physical environment before your mind loses to a universe of questions and doubts.
out of all people who have asked you to date, nagi was definitely the most unique. was he okay in the head? did he come for a check up? did he get one of rin’s kicks to the head? or was he just straight up delusional?
“uhh, why?” you ask, cursing yourself a little for how disgusted you sounded.
fortunately for you, your ungracious tone didn’t phase him, not one bit. “isn’t that what two people do when they like each other?”
yeah, romantically. you don’t even think nagi likes you beyond simply platonic, whereas you have to try and shove your feelings for him down your throat every morning before walking in to the training grounds for blue lock’s official team.
you find yourself agreeing regardless, still a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on. 
the soccer player then has the audacity to give you two thumbs up in approval, a dumb smile plastering on that expression of his. this confuses you even more.
“okay cool, so what should we do now that we’re a couple?” he asks.
you glance away, unable to look him in the eye for too long without getting flustered. the various weights and foam rollers still scattered on the floor catches your attention, reminding you of your previous task before nagi came to stir up a storm. “well, i have to put these away amongst various things. you can sit on the couch if you want to pass time?”
“do you need any help?” he questions, already bobbing down to be eye-level with you, ignoring the second half of your statement.
“no it’s fine, thank you though.”
“are you sure?”
“yeah! i don’t want to bother you.”
“well if you do this all by yourself, it’ll take longer, and you take longer, it means i have to wait longer to spend time with you.”
when you turn around to say something, the words die on your throat when you realise just how close he’d come to you during the time you had your back towards him. a flash of hurt crosses his typically emotionless eyes when you instinctively recoil from him, his innocent stare dimishing just a little. 
“you know how much i hate waiting. it’s such a pain, so let me help out and you’ll get done faster, right?” his hands are already reaching for some of the foam rollers before you can stop him. with an affectionate sigh, you take it from him, placing it back in its original spot.
“fine,” you say with a smile. “if you insist then would you mind putting the ice packs in the fridge? isagi’s ankle was messing up earlier and chigiri came in for his knee again.”
the white-haired hums before obeying, his footsteps that shuffled along the floor telling you know that he is carrying out his duties that you’ve assigned for him. the way his tracksuit makes a noise every time he walks is distracting, but you can’t help but think how much nagi reminds you of a penguin. the adorableness of it all might just kill you.
if only the internet and ‘#nagi seishiro’ tags knew just how much of a teddy bear that 6’3, legendary prodigy, nagi seishiro was, and how you had to massage him almost everyday after training sessions otherwise he’d come to practise the next day with the resolve of a five year old.
being a junior physiotherapist for the blue lock team, you only took care of a few blue lock athletes as your clients since the team was divided between you and a senior physio. nagi wasn’t one of your assigned athletes, however when you first came to the job, he would come during almost closing times (when you had no one booked) and ask for a massage, even if he had his own physiotherapist to request that of. however, nagi seemed to always have some sore muscle because his demands for a massage became a daily recurrence.
you just hope whatever is wrong with him gets sorted out soon. 
sure athletes are meant to work hard and use their bodies in the field but physio massages were to assist with injuries by minimising the risk of them, fixing the alignment, or help extend any limited range of movement. 
whatever. now’s not the time to think too hard about it because you’re about to go on a date with nagi seishiro. 
after cleaning up your space so you could prepare to take care of more athletes tomorrow, nagi is sauntering over to you once more. this time, he drapes himself all over you, causing you to stumble a little from how heavy he is. you pray to whoever’s listening that he can’t feel or hear the way your heart races in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat and jump into his hands. 
“tired, nagi?” you question, words muffled against his shoulder as you bring your hands to soothingly pat his back. 
“yeah,” whines the white-haired. the smile that creeps onto your face is one full of adoration for the man slung over you. “let me take you out.”
“where to?”
“a night market? it’ll be fun.” 
“sure.” 
at your confirmation, he separates from you with an excited glimmer in his eyes, 
after grabbing your bags and setting out, you’re violently flooded by dozens of paparazzi and interviewers who are click their cameras in hopes of catching blue lock’s soccer player who has taken the world by storm. it’s a little overwhelming, but when nagi covers you from the reporters with his arm which had his tracksuit jacket draped over it, you’re thankful for his thoughtfulness, especially when you’re relying on his grip around your waist to pull you in the right direction.
the crowd is shouting a flurry of things, nothing that you can make out amongst the mess of your mind, your heart, and your ears.
it’s not until you decipher someone shouting something about dating rumours with a japanese pop singer, that you piece together his intentions; a loud wakeup call to the reality of your ‘situation’ with nagi. 
the possibility that nagi was using this ‘relationship’ for media coverage and acknowledgement was very likely, especially with his recent growth in popularity and social media following- it would be understandable if he wanted to prolong his moment in the spotlight by entering beneficial relationships. 
except typically, celebrities would do it with other celebrities.
so what’s the appeal behind using you? 
a funny feeling brews in your gut, one that clawed at your chest with a series of disappointment, anxiety, and dismay. it was unbelievable that someone as hot, both literally and figuratively, as nagi would be interested in you; a junior physiotherapist fresh out of university, but you had hoped. his abruptness today and the whole ‘we should date’ ordeal was to dispel the media from his back, not bred from any genuine feelings.
if this was the only chance you got to stand beside nagi and have him hold you like this, so protectively against him, then you were going to take it until fate deemed it over and pulled you away from him itself.
you were young and simply put, nagi could provide the companionship you were looking for.
fortunately, the press left him alone at the parking lot where security guards were standing, two in the booth and one purchased near the gate. you give them a shy greeting and they return it with a bow.
“sorry about that,” nagi mutters, not looking at you even when you turn your head to stare up at him. “i wasn’t expecting paparazzi to be right outside, they’re such a pain.”
“it’s okay, if anything i owe you a thank you for covering me from them,” you huff, stuffing your hands into your pockets, mind still a little frazzled over the memory of how protective nagi was over you. “stuff like this happens when you’re famous, mr soccer hotshot.”
he rubs his neck, looking to the side as his next words tumble out of his mouth: “does that impress you?”
“why wouldn’t it?” 
you try not to think too hard about the blush that manifests on his face, pinning it on the colder weather and frostbite rather than your words. 
“so… where’s this night market? i didn’t know tokyo had many night markets.”
“just in shibuya.”
“won’t it be busy?”
“yeah,” he shrugs before adding as an afterthought: “does that bother you?”
“no not at all, i just thought you hated big crowds and busy places.”
“‘s won’t be so bad with you there.”
for someone who prefers to keep quiet majority of the time, nagi sure does have a silver tongue. this is probably the third time in the past half an hour that he’s made your stomach flip, and you can’t help but question his intentions. if he was trying to make you actually fall for him to make your relationship look more legitimate then he’d be disappointed to know that you already had, way before he approached you today. 
he agrees to drive the way since one: it was easier and two: you could avoid the paparazzi that way. 
upon arrival, you’re glad to see that there aren’t too many people in the crowd. since it was a weekday, students would be participating in extra curriculars and businessmen would be only just finishing work. the majority of the people here were older with a few couples here and there.
“oh, they have lemon tea,” nagi mutters, grabbing your hand before unceremoniously dragging you to the stand. his excitement was endearing, especially when all 6’3 of him approaches the lemon tea stand, needing to bend down in order to be seen by the elderly stand owner. a flash of surprise crosses the maker’s face as he makes eye contact with the white-haired.
“two lemon teas please,” requests the soccer player, using his hands to gesture ‘two’ as he fishes out the appropriate amount of money.
“hey, you’re that soccer player, nagi! you scored an awesome goal the other day. mind if i get a picture?” the owner’s gruff voice requests, a cheery smile making its way onto his face.
“oh. sure.”
you take the picture for them, counting down ‘3, 2, 1’ as nagi gives the camera a peace sign and the owner has a wide, bright smile on his face; so bright that you couldn’t help grinning as well. “i’m putting this on my store front. now you want two lemon teas?”
“coming right up!” 
“did you just buy me a lemon tea without asking?” you question, a smile appearing on your features as you glance up at your companion.
he meets your eyes, “yeah, ‘s there something wrong with that?” 
“no, not at all. i wouldn’t mind some lemon tea right now. i’ll pay you back.”
“don’t worry about that,” nagi cuts you off before you can even reach for your wallet. “everything’s on me.”
“but-”
“-it’s on me.”
the stand owner is handing over two iced cups of lemon before you can continue bickering and nagi hands one over to you with a wordless expression and you’re compelled to take it, though reluctantly.
“are you two a couple?” the owner asks.
nagi nods, “yeah, we are.”
“ah! no wonder. you two look amazing together, you bagged a real gem,” he says to nagi, pointing at you. you laugh it off, flattered.
“i know i did. thanks for the tea, sir.”
“thank you!” you call out to the owner before being dragged away by nagi again, careful not to spill your drink from how much vigour was in his steps. for his one stride, you had to take two. 
after going from store to store and blindly following nagi who led the way with his stomach, you’re eventually brought to a less busy, picnic-like area where there were various benches for you to sit on. it was away from the busyness of the main street, but still had lanterns hung around the premise, combating the darkness of the early sunset during colder months.
you take a seat beside him whilst he sets down the variety of food he bought from the merchants, not trying to think too much about the way nagi presses himself closely against you. 
“oh, one of my games had a character drop an hour ago,” he absentmindedly comments, opening his phone for the first time since being with you. you catch a glimpse of his dim phone screen, seeing the notification banner from the game he was referring to.
“that’s cool,” you mutter, unsure of what else to say as you take a bite into the red bean taiyaki.
“yeah, he’s a cracked character. been wanting him forever.”
“are you gonna pull? i wanna see him.”
“really?” 
when you give him the nod of affirmation, nagi opens the game whilst you continue eating, gentle anticipation hanging in the air as well as a comfortable silence. it doesn’t take long before he’s purchasing special event tokens, going to the special character screen and pressing the ‘draw x10’ option. you peer over his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to rest your chin on it.
you’re snapped out of your reverie when nagi emits a small gasp. “no way.”  
“what?” you ask, watching the way his screen lights up in gold which signalled a successful draw. he looks up at you, eyes wide and mouth partially parted. “did you get him?”
“yeah, on the first go,” he says in wonder, a dazed look in his eyes. “that’s never happened before.”
“no way! you’re so lucky!”
nagi’s face erupts into a small smile, and you’re caught off guard all of a sudden when his hands snake around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. the new proximity and abruptness of it all causes your mind to stop for a second, shutting off as nagi peers up at you with stars in his eyes. you want to hide, but his grip around you is too tight, pulling you in to him.
this feels criminal. 
“nah, i just think you’re my lucky charm.”
a quiet squeak of ‘is that so?’ is all you can reply with before looking away, trying to distract your rampant thoughts, hoping that the cool breeze will calm the heat creeping up to your face. “so,” you begin, trying to recover yourself from embarrassment. “can i see your characters? all of them?”
“all of them?” nagi repeats and you miss the small look of bliss on his expression.
“yeah.”
“i showed them to you the other week.”
“okay, well show me this new character then.”
“as you wish.” 
he talks you through the characters and their tutorials, showing you their special combos and ultimate moves, all whilst you have to feed him the variety of foods he bought whilst dragging you around like a dog and its owner. as he munches on the takoyaki, kebabs, and sweet potato, you realise just how bottomless nagi’s stomach was and the way he hums in satisfaction after each bite was very adorable.
the night fades into a nice memory of laughter, emptied food boxes, and easy conversation. somehow nagi has manoeuvred himself so that his head was now in your lap, snowy hair spread so invitingly as you resist the urge to run your hands through it, wanting to respect any boundaries of his. 
every so often you have to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. 
reality hits you once more the following morning when you check social media just to see ‘#nagi seishiro’ trending all over again, all talking about the paparazzi photos that were taken yesterday. taking a glimpse for yourself, you hate the way your gut sinks, especially as articles with the title ‘nagi seishiro with a new lover?’ shine in your face.
it only solidifies your speculations about this (fake?) relationship, and despite coming to accept it, growing resentment poisons your system, rendering you incapable and bitter as you let your breakfast grow cold. 
at least nagi correctly covered you with his jacket, your face is completely obstructed, only your body is revealed. you thank your lucky stars that you decided to not wear your ‘blue lock’ staff clothes that morning and just opted for your own athletic wear, that way your identity could be hidden at least just a little.
a message from reo captures your attention and you click on it immediately. 
reo: is that you with nagi? 
you: yeah! 
reo: about fucking time. got sick of you two never doing anything. 
you: haha 😐thanks reo 😐
reo: did he take you to the night market last night?
you: yeah! it was fun :)
reo: that’s good, nagi’s been waiting forever.
reo: don’t break his heart 
you scoff at the irony of reo’s last text, typing something noncommittal before throwing your phone else where. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the whole team practically knows about you and nagi when you return to work the following monday and the second you enter the building, you’re swarmed by the friendly faces of bachira, isagi, and chigiri, who are seemingly holding a tired nagi hostage. quite an amusing sight. three people, who are roughly a head shorter than the white-haired, restraining a lethargic 6’3 athlete with their bodies. 
“are you really dating nagi?” isagi begins before you could even fit in a ‘hello’.
“uh… yeah?” you sound unsure; because you are. a fake relationship is still a relationship, it’s just that one party is more infatuated with the other.
“damn. i didn’t think it was real,” mutters chigiri. “are you sure? he’s not like… paying you to do this, right? you like like him?”
“yes?” you exclaim, a little overwhelmed. “i’m not getting any monetary returns even though i wish i did.” nagi narrows his eyes at you, you poke out your tongue. “please, no more questions, it’s way too early for this.”
“you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting for nagi to ask you out, y/n. even we placed money on him,” reveals isagi but before you could say anything in response, bachira cuts in, practically skipping up to the white-haired.
“finally grew some balls and asked, good job bro!” bachira sings, patting nagi on the back with a violet slap before disappearing.
“see you at practice, nagi!” 
the three athletes disappear and you finally exhale after holding in a breath for what felt like ages. what an animated way to start the day.
you hold your breath again when nagi approaches to stop in front of you, a singular coffee cup in his hand; one that he holds out to you.
“good morning, nagi,” you greet.
“hey, i got you coffee.” instinctively, you take the cup from him, immediately warmed up by the heat emanating from it. “i hope it’s still warm. i’ve been waiting for you for a while.”
“you were waiting for me?” 
“yeah. wanted to see you before going to training. makes my day less of a bother.”
you smile into your cup, trying to hide the effect that nagi has on you. you were so stupid for him it was insane.
“i’m sorry for making you wait, the trains were a little delayed this morning,” you confess, “but thank you. you’re very thoughtful, nagi.”
his face contorts into an ugly expression, a display of his feelings that are quickly quelled by the feeling of your cold hand grabbing his warm ones. “you take public transport to work?”
“i don’t want to pay for parking and everything. it’s not all bad, i get lovely views and a wake up call every morning.” 
the white-haired athlete makes a face of contemplation briefly. “let me pick you up from now on.”
“no, it’s fine. i don’t want to be more of a hassle. i know how much you hate waking up to even just come to work so-”
“-i want to.”
your heart flutters at his insistence and all you can mutter out is a feeble ‘ok’ before slipping your hand out of his. you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get used to the way nagi seishiro so effortlessly warms your insides; to the point that it becomes an unrecognisable pool of putty. 
after a moment, you regain your senses. “you should be going off to practise. don’t make ego mad before the day even starts.”
he groans, “won’t you come and watch? i’ll feel a little better if you’re there.”
“i have my own work to get to but i don’t have many checkups today so if i can, i will.”
“i suppose that’s good enough,” mutters nagi before pulling you in for a loose hug, arms wounding around your waist, breathing you in before stepping back, as if rejuvenated by your touch and presence alone. 
“work hard, nagi.”
you go your separate ways, him to the field and you to your office where various coworkers resided.
after a morning of answering emails, going to meetings and consulting the results from various body screenings, you finally have a chunk of time around 11:45 am to go and watch practice. as soon as you entered the training grounds, you’re a little stunned and impressed to see that they were all doing shooting drills, landing them perfectly with no effort, the harsh sound of shoe slapping against leather ringing throughout the area.
nagi notices you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up a little when you shoot him a small wave before wandering into the bleachers, taking a seat in a second row. 
you continue watching, straightening up in your seat whenever it’s nagi’s turn, waiting to watch the genius at work. the results are no less than impressive every time but you have to pretend like you weren’t at all marvelling at him whenever he turns around and looks at you expectantly.
15 minutes later, ego calls for an hour lunch break, allowing the players to break off to do whatever their heart desires. the first thing nagi does is walk over to where you sit in the stands, leaning over the first row of chairs to reach you.
“why hello there, soccer sensation,” you greet and he gives you a lazy smile.
“hi.”
“you going to go for lunch?”
“yeah. have you had something to eat yet or do you wanna grab a bite together?”
“i brought cup noodles but i don’t mind. don’t you want to go with your friends?” 
“you’re better.”
“please shut up, that’s so cringe,” you murmur with an undeniable grin, one that causes his gaze to soften as well. “let’s get lunch together then.”
“let me get dressed,” the athlete says, about to run off when you abruptly stop him, causing him to turn around suddenly, his hair whipping around with his actions. “what’s up?”
beckoning him over, he returns to where he stood before and you take out a hair tie, one that you store in your pockets all the time just in case. “does your hair not bother you when you practise?” you silently ask for permission, hand merely hovering near his head until you realise that he was okay with the contact. “it’s getting all in your face, even i was annoyed when watching you.” 
gently, you run your hands through his hair and despite the sweat on his forehead, it’s still soft and fluffy. goodness you could play with it forever.
then, you gather nagi’s front bangs, bringing them together to resemble a unicorn horn, tying it with your hairband. when you part from your work, you’re pleasantly surprised that it holds but you suppress a giggle because of how ridiculous he looks, paired with that dazed look in his eyes, you never thought you’d see nagi like this.
when you reach to tug your hairband out of his hair, he waves you off, taking the updo out himself.
“can i keep the hairband?” he pleads and you quirk an eyebrow.
“it’s just a hairband,” you say.
“so you won’t miss it right?”
“no, i won’t-”
“-okay, epic,” he mumbles before putting the hair tie around his wrist and a part of you swells with pride at the sight; a feeling that you try to shove down with little success. “can i get changed now?”
“yes, go.”
whilst you watch the white-haired disappear from your vision, you can’t help but wonder how you got yourself into this situation with such a weirdo. still, you adore said weirdo and this was no one’s fault but your own.
nagi wears the hair tie for the remainder of the day.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
roughly two months or so pass by and the days become a blur, especially since training is becoming more rigorous for the team due to the preparations for their spring soccer season. your schedule is piled day by day with athletes coming for their regular checkups and consultations, leaving you drained as soon as the work day is over.
nagi, your loving ‘partner’ notices this because he always likes to stick around after hours and bother you for a massage. he always insists that you do it because it’s like an immediate ‘full heal’ but you just think that he’s too lazy to book a professional masseuse and that you’re the next best thing.
whatever. at least he’s cute.
“i hardly see you nowadays,” he mutters, voice muffled by the leather bed of your workspace. 
you gather a little more lotion on your hands, spreading it along his calves before pressing your thumbs into his muscles, trying to identify where any tight spots might be. “i’m sorry, i don’t have much time nowadays. appointments with you guys go all the way til six, and i don’t get home until 6:30. then i’m practically out like a light.”
he hums in torment and in consideration, tensing his shoulders a little as a natural response to the pain in his legs. “well, tomorrow’s a saturday. can i take you out?”
“i don’t know, some athletes may sporadically come and bother me to get a massage so i’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“be serious.”
“i am free tomorrow.”
“sick. keep it that way.”
“even if athletes bother me for a much-needed massage in order to perform at their best?”
he huffs something in response before flopping his face back down on the leather bed, the (seemingly invincible) knots in his calves taking too much of your attention for you to think too hard about tomorrow’s date with nagi. 
he’s still wearing your hair tie around his wrist. 
true to his word, nagi picks you up the next day at 3pm for your date since he insisted that was the earliest he would be ready by (meaning, it’s the earliest he can wake up). when you meet him, you’re a little stunned by the amount of disguises he’s wearing. sunglasses, beanie, and a face mask, you’re not sure whether he’s going to attract more attention or blend in.
also, when you’re 6’3 it’s hard to avoid eyes.
“hey, i’m supposed to meet someone called nagi, he’s got white hair, grey eyes, 190 cm, have you seen him?” you ask as soon as you approach the soccer player. he sighs through his mask when you erupt into a fit of laughter. “i’m just kidding.”
nagi brings down his mask to sit below his chin. “your boyfriend is right here,” he corrects, voice demanding and authoritative, sending shivers down your spine. 
“so he is,” you mumble, stepping closer to engulf him in a hug. he wraps his arms around you in return and you contentedly sigh when he pulls you into the comfortable, expensive material of his hoodie. “what’s with the disguise?”
“i don’t want anyone to ruin our day out so i’m wearing this.”
“ever so thoughtful aren’t you?” 
when you take a step back, nagi’s careful to not let you stray too far which is indicated through the protective arm he keeps around your shoulders. 
“should we get going?”
“yeah.”
the white-haired laces your hands with his, his grip gentle yet committed to keeping you near him as you stroll down the warming streets of tokyo.
“it’s finally spring,” nagi comments offhandedly, causing you shift your gaze towards him. you’re surprised that he was initiating conversation, majority of the time it was you doing the rambling and him partaking in the listening. “the cold weather was getting bothersome. hated going to practise all freezing, makes warmup so hard.”
“i like the cold weather,” you say. “it’s easier to dress for winter than it is for summer.”
“that is true.”
“do you like spring?”
“yeah, ‘s my favourite season.”
you didn’t think someone like nagi would bother too much with having a favourite season. “why’s that?”
“it’s a good season for napping and staying inside. i like that i don’t have to do much nor think about much.” 
such a nagi response. you admire how stubborn he sticks to his ideals and general philosophy, it’s a comforting quality and aspect to have. 
“plus it’s your birthday season,” you add. 
he looks at you with a gentle smile before repeating: “it’s my birthday season.”  
nagi takes you to a park where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, its petals decorating the scenery and ground, creating a dainty, lovely carpet of pink and beauty. however, the main attraction of the date isn’t the scenery of the park but rather, the lake where several pedal boats float on the water; some occupied, some vacant.
the soccer player shows the attendant his purchased tickets, getting them scanned before you’re led to get on one of the boats. 
“so… are you liking the date?” nagi asks when you’re out far enough from the dock so that no one can hear you. here, he takes off his mask, tucking it into his pocket.
“i am, i’ve been wanting to ride one of these boats for a long time but i’ve just never found the time,” you confess. “i’m glad that it’s with you. thanks, nagi.” 
he looks away, an obvious pink tint appearing on his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. “it’s okay, i s’pose.”
“you’re so cute,” you say whilst raising one hand to drag through his hair.
“stop,” he whines but not brushing you off or pulling away, instead, he leans into your touch.
a few minutes of silence pass by before nagi speaks up again, retreating back into his personal space as he fishes for something in his hoodie pocket. he pulls out a long velvet box, handing it over for you to take which you do with a little hesitation.
“i wanted to give you something to mark two months,” he tells you and you feel your heart drop.
“wait what? two months? i didn’t know we were celebrating that!” (because you spend too much time fretting over the day he’d tell you that he wants to break up, not needing this fake relationship anymore.) “i didn’t get you anything, i feel terrible now-”
“-it’s not a big deal, i just wanted to give you something.”
“nagi i can’t accept this, this is too good-”
“-i insist.”
“but i don’t have anything for you-”
in the blink of an eye his hands are clasped tightly around yours, his face incredibly close to yours that you’re stupefied into silence. “i. insist.”
you stare at him for another three seconds before relenting, opening the velvet box with the utmost care in fear that you might drop it in the water; a horrifying thought. 
a gasp of delight slips out of your mouth when you see an emerald necklace beaming brightly in your face. it’s in the shape of a pendant, encrusted around a halo plate with gold surrounding it, and from the looks of it, it couldn’t have been cheap.
looking back up at him to express the disbelief you feel, you’re silenced by the gentle look in his eyes, one that shines with adoration and devotion.
“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to talk much louder in fear that it’ll cause the emerald to shatter in your hand. “you shouldn’t have.”
“i wanted to because i really like you. stop worrying.”
you exhale deeply, a little flustered and caught off guard by how candid he was. this feels suspiciously real.
“where did you learn to be so romantic?” you quiz, using humour to narrow how awkward you felt. 
“shoujos,” he answers shamelessly.
“ah.” makes sense as to why he makes you feel like you’re in one. “can you help me put the necklace on?”
the white-haired shines with glee, features brightening for a second. “y-yeah, of course.”
“thank you.” 
when he grasps the jewellery in his hold you turn around to expose the back of your neck to him, practically holding your breath when you feel his warm fingers brush against your skin, his touch barely there yet still prominent enough to blaze trials of fire where he caresses. 
“how do i look?” you ask, turning back around.
“beautiful,” he says, no louder than a whisper.
eventually the boat ride comes to an end and you return back to the dock. a lingering feeling of bliss and giddiness resonates in your chest, evident in the undeniable grin plastered on your face whilst you walk through the park; this time with a pretty gemstone adorning your neck. 
“nagi, look!” you exclaim, gesturing over to a company-branded photo booth that had set itself up in the middle of the park. there were various people lining up for one and judging by the pleased squeals from groups of students, it would be a nice memory to keep for today. “should we take one?”
“sure,” he shrugs, letting you drag him to hop in the queue which was going much faster than you anticipated. 
when it’s your turn, there’s hardly any time to discuss poses when the cameraman clicks the countdown button so unexpectedly. you reflexively hug nagi whilst smiling and he just gives a simple peace sign. he then stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his head atop yours. finally, he bends down to kiss your cheek, rendering you completely mentally inable as you default a pose, not entirely too sure which one whilst you wait for the countdown and the camera flash. 
“you guys are so cute!” the photographer exclaims, handing your photobooth strips already. even then you hadn’t regained your senses, relying on nagi to guide you with his hand on the small of your back. 
glancing down at the photo strip, you’re stunned into speechlessness at the last photo. you can still remember the feeling of his lips on your cheek, specks of his warmth lingering on your skin whilst you continue trying to register what just happened.
you might explode or something. 
“cute,” nagi mumbles whilst putting the photo strip into his wallet, pulling you in by the waist to stand closer to him, whispering in your ear. “i still have one place i want to take you.” 
“do you?” you squeak, earning you a nod as he leads you through the park, coming to a stop when you enter a somewhat secluded section that had a sign labelled ‘private picnic rooms’ with various price ranges according to the number of people.
once again, he claims to have a reservation and you’re led by an attendant towards a specific area that had a table scattered with plates of snacks and various decorations. the vibe of the room was incredible with tatami mats, a floor to ceiling glass window that outlook the cherry blossoms, and if you tried hard enough, you could hear a stream running. 
“you… really outdid yourself,” you murmur, wandering over to one side of the table, expecting him to sit on the other. instead, he takes the spot right beside you.
you’re not too sure if this layout is how the establishment intended it to be but it is now.
“so you like it?” 
“i do. i love everything you’ve done today, you’re too good for me.”
“not true,” he grumbles, too quiet for you to address it further but loud enough for you to hear.
your relationship doesn’t make any sense to you. why is nagi trying so hard to impress you when this relationship was just for beneficial gain? what does he get from booking a pedal boat ride, buying you a (clearly expensive) emerald necklace, then taking you to have a private picnic? 
picking up a piece of halved mochi with the provided fork, you give the first bite to nagi who is more than happy to oblige, chewing on it with a satisfied expression. 
he’s so cute, you could pinch him.
your eyes then flit over to the decorations on the table, reaching over to the branch of cherry blossoms in a vase before you could think, ripping off one of the sticks with the bloomed flower and putting it in nagi’s hair and behind his ears. his adorableness just tripled.
“aww you look really cute with pink!”
“ya think so?” 
“yeah! you’re so pretty nagi,” you reach over to fiddle with the flower, not registering how close you’d gotten to him until you feel his breath fan across your face.
then you comprehend it, frozen in place for a second as you study nagi’s beauty from an angle you hadn’t before. how his snowy hair fanned perfectly over his forehead, the way the light bounced in the reflection of his eyes, and the imperfections that littered across his skin all contributed towards making the pretty being that was nagi seishiro. 
he leans in. you freak out, instinctively turning your head.
your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel nagi’s lips brush against the corners of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before parting and the look of hurt that flashes across his face hurts your soul. 
did you do the right thing? you thought you did- you know nagi isn’t into you the way you are into him. this relationship was made for media attraction, for him to gain more seconds of fame, so why does he keep acting like you two are real? why does he keep protecting your identity from the internet, why did he wear a disguise when meeting you when he would have wanted to boast that he was taken, why does he want to kiss you?
why does he look so hurt when he didn’t?
this was all so confusing.
tension lingers in the air for the rest of the date. you try to compensate for it by being a little more affectionate, giving in to your desires of openly loving him for the day. nagi’s satisfied.
you don’t notice how the cherry blossom fell from his ear.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
you won’t find answers to your questions for a long time. in fact, the amount of questions you had quadrupled one night when you had spent the day at nagi’s apartment after work one day to watch a tv show that was on his ‘to-watch’ list.
“stay the night?” asks nagi, resting his head on your shoulder to give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you will yourself to not look at him by keeping your gaze firm on the television screen. 
“oh this episode sounds good. maybe we can watch this then i’ll get going,” you mutter whilst fiddling with the remote, dutifully ignoring his pleads and the way he tugs at you; something that does not resonate well with him. 
“oi. don’t ignore me.”
with a rough exhale, you finally turn towards him. “i can’t.”
“why not? we don’t have work tomorrow.” 
“i know but i just feel bad to bother you and take up your space.”
“you’re not botherin’ me. there’s so much space here, it feels empty without you.”
“nagi-”
“-won’t you call me seishiro? or something more romantic?”
the relationship shifts with his very words and you feel the genuine desperation that bleeds from nagi through his tone. when you look him in the eye, part of you shines with hope that maybe your relationship was real and not bred for media benefit.
in this moment of weakness, you let the top of your walls crumble.
“okay, seishiro.”
he beams. a smile so pure that you shatter like glass in his hands. “yay.”
you then find yourself underneath him as he lays his entire body weight over you, pressing you into the comfortable cushions of his couch as his hands delicately run up and down your waist. paralysed with confusion at the amount of love he pours into his touch, you keep forgetting that the higher you climb, the harder the inevitable fall will be. 
“stay the night, please?”
how could you say no when he was asking so nicely? “okay, seishiro.”
“yay.”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“hey seishiro, are you ready?” you ask, fiddling with your rings as you round the corner of your living room where your oversized boyfriend is lounging across the couch whilst you got ready (boyfriend still feels weird to say even if he has zero problems with addressing himself by that title).
“yeah. let’s go-” he grumbles, cutting himself off when he glances over at you, eyes widening. “-whoa.”
heat rushes to your cheeks whilst nagi continues to shamelessly marvel at you, slowly standing up to cross the distance between you, his hands naturally hovering to hold your hips when he’s close enough. his gaze lingers even longer on the emerald necklace that sits between your collarbones. “like what you see?”
he stays silent for a second, leaving you to anticipate his answer. “we don’t have to go to isagi’s,” he mumbles. “how do we feel about staying in?” 
“don’t. your best friend is hosting this party, can’t you at least show up for him?” 
the white-haired sulks. “but you look so good. why should i celebrate that shortie instead of you?”
you push his face away, jokingly fed up with your boyfriend’s lazy attitude. “isagi is also my friend and i want to celebrate with him, just for an hour or two and then we can leave. deal?” 
“fine.”
twenty minutes later, you arrive at isagi’s place where a good amount of his closest friends had gathered, showing up far earlier than you and nagi did. 
truthfully, you were looking forward to isagi’s party since he was not throwing a massive rave where everyone was invited- those always ended up to be more unfortunate than fun in your opinion, and that wouldn’t exactly cater to his shy and sensible character. tonight was a gathering for his friends to hangout and celebrate. some you recognise from the team, some of them must be from high school or elsewhere.
bachira’s cheery face is the first one you see upon arrival, his smile wide as he practically bounces off the walls in excitement and you already begin to wonder just how many desserts and sweets he’s had upon arrival. 
“hey it’s the couple of the century!” he exclaims with a wink. nagi keens at bachira’s compliment, all proud and boastful as his hand creeps up to hold your hip protectively. “lookin’ good as always!” 
“yo, where’s isagi?” the white haired questions.
“around, i’ll take you to him c’mon!” 
the two soccer players are off before you can even count to three, nagi and bachira disappearing into the crowd as the hyperactive boy drags your 190 cm of a boyfriend through the crowd. well, at least he took the gift you both bought with him, but now you feel a little alone and very awkward.
walking around the hallways of isagi’s, you feel a little out of place since most of them seemed to be high school friends. it’s not until you reached the kitchen that you sigh in relief, met with the familiar, friendly faces of chigiri and reo who see you first.
“hey!” the red-haired calls out, waving at you as you walk over to them. “it’s good to see you, y/n, how are you?”
“hey chigiri, hey reo, i’m good! i just arrived but this seems like a cool gathering. isagi’s really outdone himself,” you greet.
“yeah he did. good way to unwind before the soccer season gets too crazy,” reo chips in. “nice outfit by the way, you served!”
“oh shut up, you look amazing yourself. you too chigiri.” 
“so… where’s nagi?” the purple-haired asks, checking his phone to see if he had received any texts from his best friend. “didn’t he come with you?”
“yeah but bachira dragged him to go talk to isagi as soon as i arrived. you know how he is.”
after a few more minutes of talking with the two, you finally pause the conversation out of concern about nagi’s whereabouts might be. you thought he’d come and find you after a while but guess you’ll search for him first. 
informing the pair first before breaking away, you wander into the rooms where bachira pulled nagi into, blindly hoping that they’ll be in there. to your chagrin, there were only a few unfamiliar faces spread along the couches, discussing something with a drink in their hand. you ignore the sight of otoya and one of isagi’s friends sitting too close for comfort.
when you walk into the next room, you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you: nagi leaning against the wall with a stranger who clearly has no distinction of personal space, their hand resting on his chest. your heart plunges the bottom of your stomach as distraught settles within you because of the scene unfolding in front of you, chest churning with a distant ache that you can’t put your finger on.
then he looks over at you.
the instinct to turn around and run overpowers any rational judgement, especially when a flurry of emotions begin to well up inside you, causing you to sink further and further in an ocean of doubt and fear. 
you had no right to be jealous, not over nagi because you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, he’s not really yours and it’s moment like these that truly humble you into remembering. you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his-
“-where are you going?” comes an indifferent voice from behind you. all anxiety floods out of you like a broken dam. a warm, large hand tugs on your wrist and even if he had not spoke, you’d know from touch alone that it was nagi behind you. the multitude of times that he’s spent holding you, intertwining his hand with yours, and cherishing you has forced you to brand him into your memory. 
you are his. even if it is not mutual, you would be his until he stomps the fire out.
“i-i thought i was interrupting something,” you stammer, looking into at nagi’s doe eyes.
“you didn’t. actually, you made it better by coming,” he says before wrapping his arms around your torso. “that person wouldn’t leave me alone, such a pain. tried to say i was taken too, so glad you came.”
you return the hug, trusting his words. “glad i came too.”
nagi pulls you out of the water.
“can we leave yet? i don’t wanna be here anymore.”
“just a little longer. i haven’t even seen isagi yet. plus, we should dance.”
he gives you a quick look up and down before nodding in agreement. you smack his shoulder.
you manage to locate isagi rather quickly. he was near the food bar where refreshments and various desserts and snacks laid so after greeting him, wishing him ‘happy birthday’, and chatting with him for approximately five minutes before nagi started getting bitchy, you’re pulled into the dance floor by the white-haired. he said that they were playing a good song when you asked why he was being so impatient.
with a laugh, you give in.
nagi doesn’t really know how to dance but you can’t help but be a little entertained, deciding to end his awkwardness when you grab his hands and lead him through some moves, singing along to the song with each other. it ends with your arms around his neck and his around your waist (again) when a slower song plays. 
hiding your face in his chest, you breathe in the subtle aroma of his cologne that you urged him to put on earlier. when he gently prompts you to look up at him with a hand gently pulling on your hair, your breath gets caught in your throat at the close proximity as nagi stares at your lips, glancing up to meet your eyes again before leaning in.
this time you don’t feel as cruel, bracing yourself for the first sip of water after crossing the desert, for the final puzzle piece clicking into place, for the feeling of his lips slotting against yours; for the feeling of completion. 
instantly you relax at the sensation, melting into his embrace as you hold onto him a little tighter, wanting more. you want to take as much of him as he’ll allow and even then, you’ll cherish every last part.
you want him the same way the ocean longs for the moon.
parting from him makes you feel empty. the lidded look he gives you is full of temptation and… love?
snapping out of your reverie, you step away from him, using his dazed state to create some distance between the two of you as you come to your senses. senses that scream at you for possibly ruining… this. 
you hate that you keep running away from him, leaving him in the dust of the mess that are your feelings. it’s immature, irrational, and downright childish, really it is, but how else can you stop the way you’re about to burst at the seams? how can you stop yourself from devoting yourself fully to nagi seishiro if you don’t forcefully screw the lid over your emotions?
for the second time tonight, the white-haired chases after you because there was never another option. he despises being away from you and despises it even more when it’s him you’re running away from, wanting nothing more than to be by your side at all times.
for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist but now, he leads you through isagi’s house, weaving through a series of well-kept and simply decorated rooms to finally arrive at a balcony. one that was untouched by the party goers.
“why do you keep doing this?” he asks, pleading for an answer as desperation laces his voice and eyes. “why do you keep running away?”
you’re stunned. he’s hurt by your carelessness and the way you constantly recoil from him as if he was electric, his powerful figure slouching, all his quiet confidence and stubbornness seeping out of him, running to pool at your feet. 
“am i doing something wrong? i thought you liked me.”
“i-i’m confused,” you stammer stupidly. 
he grows even more perplexed. “you’re confused? i’m even more confused! one second i think you like me then the next, you’re trying to avoid me. why do you keep doing this? i really really like you, y/n. but it doesn’t feel like you like me at all sometimes.”
“no!” you blurt out. “it’s not like that! i do like you, a lot, in fact i might even… love you? it’s just…”
as you try to recap the timeline of your relationship in the past few months, you find yourself at a loss for words as you truly realise the multitude of your stupidity. you might slap yourself in the face.
this entire time, nagi has liked you- genuinely liked you for who you are yet you’ve been denying the love he has been trying to share with you since you internalised it all to be a sham. that someone like nagi seishiro couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him. you’ve been hurting him this entire time and you don’t know how to begin explaining why.
well… no other option than with one word at a time.
you go to grab both his hands, inhaling. “i didn’t think we got together based on genuine feelings.”
he recoils, eyebrows and nose scrunching. 
“i thought you were using me to- i don’t know, trend on the internet by teasing everyone with some sort of secret relationship which sounds so stupid, i know, but i just couldn’t believe that you would want me for me,” you ramble, only stopping to breathe. “these few months have been amazing but i lowkey thought you were going to break up with me and say something like ‘surprise! i’ve never liked you’ before leaving me. i don’t deserve someone like you and-” 
“what?”
you shut up.
“you thought you don’t deserve me? that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard. you’re perfect. i was the one that got lucky.”
“lucky? you? really?”
“yeah,” he breathes. “you’re like a gift sent by fate.”
that renders you speechless for a little. there’s more to say, you know there is because of the pregnant silence that lingers around the two of you for a little but maybe that’s for another time. 
are you dreaming? this feels surreal. maybe you’ll start floating too. 
“also, why would i want to trend for any other reason but soccer?”
“i don’t know! you asked me out really abruptly- i’ve never been asked out like that before! talk about confusing. and the paparazzi was waiting for us after too like, what was i supposed to think!”
“i see.”
“yeah.”
more silence.
“so… you love me?” nagi asks and you groan, removing your hands from his to cover your face from embarrassment. 
“i guess i do,” you grumble.
“hey, don’t hide from me,” the white-haired says before grabbing your wrists to lower them from your face. “i love you too.”
“really?”
“yeah.”
“that’s cool.”
“it is.”
you do both of you a favour by kissing him fervently. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“sei, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the match or whatever it is you athletes do?” you ask when nagi’s mop of white hair peaks up from behind the door to your physio office.
he steps out from behind the doorframe, crossing the distance to get to you. he’s sporting his blue lock tracksuit with his hands dug into his pocket and you’re a little envious of how comfortable he looks. “i was until i realised you weren’t there. i was waiting for you to show up.”
“well i don’t really have to be there early. i just get there around 20 or so minutes earlier.”
“i see.”
“why, did you want me there or something?” you ask with a cheeky eyebrow raise, poking him in his sides causing him to recoil a little from your touch.
“why else would i walk all this way?”
“a stunning 50 metres- i’m so sorry for your perilous journey,” you comment, placing a kiss on his cheek before walking away from him to set up your box of medical supplies including kinesio tapes, bandages, and cold spray. he slumps down on the waiting couch near the entrance.
your role as blue lock’s official therapist meant that you had to be on standby for the team at all time during official matches. even though you aren’t their nurse, you still bring first aid things like ice packs to minimise the amount of time spent travelling between offices, especially if that distance is not needed. 
after scanning the box for the last time and mentally ticking your checklist of materials required to bring, you pat your leg in satisfaction before standing up. “i can go to the field now. there’s probably tape changes that i need to do.”
nagi lazily grins, searching for your hand to help pull himself up. “yay.”
“you need to be warming up while we’re at it.”
“aw. okay.”
the walk back to the field is painless enough with nagi holding onto your hand for dear life whilst carrying your box of supplies for you. for someone who is about to compete in less than an hour, he is surprisingly calm, hardly different from his passive, pacifistic self. should you be nervous on his behalf?
stepping in to the field, you’re overwhelmed by the enormousness of blue lock’s home stadium, the lights shining down on you so brightly that you need a moment to recollect yourself. to think that all these empty seats will be filled with various people scares you mindless; even vacant it was still overwhelming.
“y/n!” isagi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie and he jogs over to you with that friendly smile of his. “what’s up?”
“hey isagi, sei dragged me out of my office,” you grumble before turning around to the white-haired who places your supplies on the ground, instructing him to: “go continue warming up.”
he grumbles something incoherent, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead before running off, leaving you a little flustered as the dark-haired player waits patiently to talk to you.
“so what’s up?”
“i just needed my ankle to be retaped, is that okay?”
“that is my job so come over,” you say, beckoning isagi to one of the benches nearby where you decide to station yourself for the time being. 
whilst you’re unrolling the adhesive, he awkwardly sits there with his shoe and sock off, exposing his joint where he already you tape it for him. 
“do you want pink or blue tape?” you ask, holding up the two options.
“pink.”
the background noises of athletes shouting and kicking soccer balls fill the silence whilst you cut up the length needed to tape isagi’s ankle.
“how are you and nagi?” he asks.
“we’re good,” you respond, mentally reminding yourself to give isagi a present in exchange for his birthday being the sole reason why your relationship strengthened. “both been busy cause of the season but it’s fine.” 
“that’s okay, you’re making it work!” he reassures, “well, nagi is really happy.”
“is he now?” you ask, looking intently at your hands as they worked around isagi’s ankle, hiding your giddy expression from the soccer player. the effect nagi has on you will never disappear.
“yeah! always talks about you to us.”
“does he?”
“of course, why wouldn’t he? swears you’re the best thing to have happened to him in a long time or whatever.”
your heart warms uncontrollably. nagi seishiro was going to be your downfall. 
finishing up on isagi’s ankle, he tests it out quickly before thanking you and running off again to blend in with his teammates again. ‘don’t work too hard!’ you yell out after him.
after retaping chigiri’s knee, commanding karasu to do his recommended exercises, and other various checkups, the boys are ushered back into the stadium so the audience could begin filing in. before nagi went in, he runs over to you, bundling you in his arms despite the various exclaims of ‘hurry up!’ yelled at your white-haired partner.
“gotta go,” he says breathily.
“wait, shouldn’t you take this off?” you ask, gesturing to your hair tie which sat snugly at his wrist. 
“do i have to?”
“you can always rewear it after the match sei, it’s not a big deal.” 
“fine. i’ll see you soon then.”
you give him a smile of reassurance, hugging him back. “go. i’ll be watching, my superstar.”
his eyes shine. “cheer for me, won’t you?”
“of course i will. i’m your lucky charm,” you tease but he takes your statement quite literally, grinning at what you say which only illuminates the cheery look on his face.
“can my lucky charm give me a kiss?”
cupping his face, you quickly place a peck on his nose before lightly pushing him away. you know the kiss is not good enough to satiate his hunger but perhaps that’s just what you want from him, to try hard for a better reward. and in this case, by trying harder, he would bring home the trophy.
“go line up!” you command. 
nagi grumbles something before stepping away, “i’ll score for you.” 
he dashes towards the stadium entrance, leaving you in a lovesick daze as you watch him retreat. someone clears their throat behind you and you remember where you are, sitting down to preserve some professionalism. 
sitting in the medics corner was scary, especially as you watch every seat getting gradually filled with an onslaught of different people, but all you need to do for the 90 minutes is watch and be attentive to the game and the health of the players. an easy job for the amount of pay you get.
when the teams walks out into the field, everyone in the stands erupt into a roar, waving their various flags and colours. despite the chaos, nagi looks over at you and you blow him a kiss, unsure of whether or not he could actually see you. 
as everything settles down, the match finally begins, starting off with a bang. from time to time you talk with the two other blue lock medics and spend the other moments admiring your boyfriend in his athletic glory.
it’s not until almost halftime that something disastrous happens. when itoshi rin collides face-first into another player, toppling over on the field on top of each other, the crowd erupts into a series of gasps and concerned noises. as the referee’s whistle is called, you three official blue lock staff scramble to the middle of the field where a crowd was gathering around the two, trying to help their soccer players but stepping out of the way when you approach.
“where are you?” one medic begins asking.
“the stadium. we’re in the middle of a match,” comes rin’s gruff tone.
“you are?”
“itoshi rin.”
“how many fingers am i holding up?”
“four.”
“what hurts?”
“my fucking face,” rin snarkily replies, trying to stand up but not making it past his knees as he stumbles a little, holding on to his nose. “shit.”
taking his hand away, there are droplets of red coating his skin and you snake yourself under his arm in order to assist with helping him to the medic’s area, another nurse doing the same. hopefully it’s not serious and he won’t need be to sent to hospital, only benched by ego. which, he was. 
in your panic, you don’t register any of the commotion happening within the players themselves whereas nagi, on the other hand, hears it all clearly. how a player on the team he was playing against says something like ‘look at that cutie. reckon i could cuff ‘em?’ where his friend replies with a ‘yeah dude. seems like a babe to be honest, workin’ as a nurse and shit’, geturing to you.
nagi has never felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone, to jump the two players and tear them apart with the fury he feels accumulating in his insides.
the whistle to notify that the game was continuing disrupts nagi’s train of thought. he goes back into position but not without snaring at the opposition. 
blue lock seems to be doing fine without their number one player for the remainder of the game; in fact, nagi is practically dominating the whole field as he shoots, earning goals left and right for blue lock. he’s moving with unmatched determination; a blazing kind that you’ve never seen from him despite having seen countless of his games. you wonder what happened to him since rin got injured, where did the calm, unbothered nagi go? why are you kind of scared of your boyfriend right now?
maybe your good luck kiss worked in giving him the boost you predicted.
however, you never could have predicted the huge turnaround that your life would take when nagi’s jealousy gets too ahead of itself. when his urge to show the world whose you are outspeaks his rationality, too caught up in the torments of untamed jealousy. he’s never felt this way before; a carnal desire so inherent that it makes him feel bare.
only you could do this to him.
and only you could fix the ugly monster inside him
when blue lock scores the goal needed to take the trophy home, the stadium is deafening, so loud that you need to cover your ears from the unrestrained passion of fans and watchers alike, the buzz of excitement unmatched. 
nagi is awarded man of the match, taking home a shiny trophy in recognition of his athleticism and remarkable talents. yet the first thing he does when taking his prize is not rush over to his teammates and… do whatever it is that men do, but to run over to where you reside, a possessive and dark look in his eyes. it sends shivers down your spine. 
he sweeps you into his arms, winding you so close that you can feel the body heat radiating from him, even through the fabric of his jersey. the trophy presses against your back.
“can i kiss you?” nagi questions although it sounds more like a demand, especially with that breathy voice due to how much he’s been running around.
short circuiting for a moment, you reply: “but everyone’s watching.”
“let them.”
you’re well aware of the multitude of cameras that may be pointed at you and nagi. if you act stupidly, it will appear on the internet and who knows what repercussions it might bring, are you ready to be thrown into a life of chaos, joining alongside your boyfriend?
the answer is obvious when you take the initiative of kissing him, allowing him to devour you whole: his first act of establishing just exactly who you were to the entire world.
you adore how scandalous this feels.
his second act comes mere minutes later at the exit where paparazzi and media were waiting patiently behind barriers for their star players. this time, instead of leaving alone or with his teammates, there’s an unidentified figure accompanying him, hugged close to his side and proudly wearing his jersey. the very one that boasts ‘NAGI’ along the back. everything descends into chaos. 
an immense feeling of deja vu encompasses you when you recall the day nagi asked you out and the overwhelming lineup of paparazzi and photographers that waited for him outside. it’s different now. you feel confident in your place beside nagi, looking perfect to him in his clothes- as if you were meant to be his.
nagi walks in front of you to use his stature to protect from the greedy eyes of the internet whilst you use your hands to cover your face as best as possible, all to ensure your privacy from those who are going to eat these photos up when they see them. 
and- well, if everyone is going to see them then why not send a little message whilst nagi’s here?
the kiss nagi sneaks on your neck is entirely proprietorial, a clear sign of affection for the whole world to see as he eyes the cameras with a deadly look in his eyes. 
“mine,” he mutters in your ear, sending one last glare over his shoulder before disappearing from their nosiness and intruding flashes.
the cameras can see your hair tie that slips up when his sleeves are tugged too short.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
your notifications are rampant the next morning, mostly because of friends, and ‘#nagi seishiro’ has taken the internet by storm once again.
this feeling of anxiety settling in your stomach will never go away whenever you check social media to see if any of your information has been leaked and by whatever miracle, you’re absolutely relieved to see that nothing drastic has been revealed.
speaking of boyfriend, nagi stirs from where he lays beside you, stretching for a moment before patting the bed in search for your warmth. 
shutting off your phone and putting it down, you watch him try to locate you, unable to stop the smile from stretching at the corner of your lips. he’s adorable. even more so when he has to open one eye because his instincts were failing him.
“oh. why are you awake?” he asks groggily, still adjusting to consciousness. nagi tries to sit up to rest on his elbows only to fail miserably and fall face-first into his lush pillow.
“body clock,” you say. you’ll talk about yesterday later. right now, it was just you and him and the soft glow of the sun saying good morning.
“turn it off and go back to sleep.”
“fine.”
“c’mere,” nagi beckons you over weakly, hands reaching for your figure but falling short due to the enormous size of his bed.
it’s not like nagi to splurge on things but it is like him to splurge on getting the most comfortable bed ever, so when he demands you to fall back asleep, how could you say no when it feels like napping on a cloud? and with your adorable boyfriend? some things in life come too easy.
shuffling back towards him, he’s quick to throw an arm and a leg around you, trapping you in. 
“my body hurts,” whines nagi. “so much.”
“what do you want me to do about that?”
“massage later, please?” 
“is that all i am to you?” you question teasingly whilst rubbing hearts into his skin.
“maybe,” he sings.
astounded, you give him your best look of betrayal. “we’re breaking up.”
“no, don’t do that,” nagi pleads, hugging you closer as if you were going to get up from his vice grip in the first place. “don’t be mean.”
“oh sure because i’m the mean one,” you joke as he burrows his head into your neck. instinctively, your hands card through his hair, extra soft from washing it last night. after a moment of silence, you speak up. “you’re trending again because of me so just remember that what i said about our fame-grabbing relationship was true.”
“i didn’t mean for that to happen. i’m just too good,” he takes his head out of your neck, doe eyes looking up at you with heart wrenching awe. “and i love you too much to hide it.”
you pat his cheek, unable to stop a wide, dreamy smile from appearing on your face. “go back to sleep.”
“‘k. goodnight.” the second nagi’s head hits his pillow, he’s out like a light. 
it’s a little surreal to be wrapped in his embrace like this, to be able to gaze at his features so closely and unabashedly whilst his arms extend to mould you into him. even being as close as humanly possible isn’t enough for nagi who has an unlimited desire for more, at all times. 
if it’s you he wants, then you’ll happily grant it.
the last thing you see before falling into a deep slumber is a hair tie that lies on his bedside table.
5K notes · View notes
erideights · 9 months
Text
Little pieces here and there (4)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Parts: one, two, three, five
Word Count: 4,2K, i should ask for forgiveness
Warnings: flirting, pinning, (FUCKING) FINALLY, unprotected sex, buggy detaching parts of his body during sex like the freak he is
A/N: i've been building this moment so long that i was, once more, inspired by god to make this chapter the longest ever, i hope you all enjoy and that the awaited smut doesn't disappoint and delivers (let me know, anxiety is killing me, love u all, see you in chapter 5, the final (until season 2) of this series) (again i'm really really sorry for any grammatical mistake!)
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Day 5 after what happened during the Arlong Park fight, or what is the same for her = 5 AAP, (Y/N) is sure about three things:
1. With the choice of leaving her mercenary life behind, comes her new position as the ''strategist'' of the Straw Hat crew, a group of very unique people that after a couple of stops along the way, would arrive at the Grand Line.
2. Their next destination is Loguetown, which excited her; she loved the city, she never turned down an assignment that involved working there. They would arrive in a couple of days and stock up on everything they would need before beginning the greatest adventure of their lives.
3. Buggy's nose was real. Very real. And she missed him. Just a bit.
To be more precise, that bit of tension and constant sarcasm around her. She knew he was a pain in the ass, and that his staying on the ship wouldn't have lasted much more than an extra day and a half because one of her crewmates -Zoro- would have unceremoniously thrown him overboard anytime.
But it was really fun for her, so from time to time and in particular, when she passes by the helm, she finds herself remembering that annoying talking head and smiling a bit.
And so, after an entire week, they arrive at the famous Loguetown, the tomb of the most famous pirate of all time, a refuge for mercenaries, pirates and bounty hunters from all corners of the East Blue! No matter what, everything your heart could desire -except for the One Piece- you could find there. Jewelry, weapons, food, alcohol, a good bed to sleep and rest in, or other darker, macabre and adult types of entertainment.
Ah, what a city. Anyone could get lost among its endless alleys packed with people. That's why when the crew splits up, they do it in pairs, making sure that Zoro, who they had already discovered, lacked complete and utter sense of direction, wouldn't be left alone and lost among the city's infinite tide of pirates. (Y/N) is the one who goes with him, both heading to the largest armory in the city to replace his destroyed katanas while Sanji and Luffy take care of the food, and Usopp and Nami go around to do… she doesn’t really remember what. Trying clothes she believes.
She must say, however, that this swordsman is not exactly the most talkative person in the world even though their friendship has considerably grown and deepened during their little journey. Apart from sharing small notes about the city, how many people there are, or what they should do, they don't really talk that much; in her case, because she is absorbed in her surroundings, soaking in every possible detail. Him, silent because his reputation as a pirate hunter is famous around all the East Blue, and of course, in Loguetown there are only pirates. He prefers to stay alert to avoid future conflicts and have a peaceful morning. Not for him, but for his crew.
That's why when a gloved hand flies out of a dark alley, and violently covers the girl's mouth and nose, preventing her from screaming, while another grabs her by the waistband of her pants and yanks her back, forcing her to get in said alley, Zoro doesn't even notice, he continues calmly walking, minding his own fucking business, heading to only God knows where.
Farewell, mosshead.
In a blink, (Y/N)'s back collides with a strong torso, and with her heart in her mouth and adrenaline running wild in her veins, she stretches her right hand to reach the knife she has in the holster on her right thigh to destroy the asshole that dares to try to steal from her. Or murder her. Or that's her idea until she hears a familiar voice murmuring an “I got you” behind her, before turning her head and discovering the biggest, reckless buffoon she's ever met.
Buggy.
Eyes wide open, she screams against his palm, pissed off by the way he scared the shit outta her. Extremely angry, she yanks his hand away from her mouth, turns her entire body around and looks at him with what he would swear, is the most annoyed expression he ever saw in his entire life. Before the clown can excuse himself and his lack of manners, just as she begins to see that stupid smile appear on his stupid face, she slaps him so hard that for a second, he thinks his head will detach from the rest of his body.
Then, and pushed by an outburst of passion that comes out of she doesn’t even understand where, a mixture of adrenaline, surprise, her desire to kill him with her own hands and the -sexual- frustration with which he abandoned her the last time, she grabs his vest, pulls and kisses him. Again, all before Buggy can even react.
The kiss is brief. Really quick, but intense as hell, and she manages to leave him breathless. Yes, him. Only him. Because the moment they separate, when (Y/N) pushes him back, she spits out a heartfelt “You're an idiot!”
What a fucking rollercoaster. He doesn't even remember what he was about to say anymore to greet her. He's in fact, too stunned to speak. Did she slapped, kissed, and insulted him in less than a minute? Oh, she's a freak, just like him. The only difference between them is that she knows how to pretend the opposite. But she can't hide it from him. Not to the king of the freaks.
''I missed you too, baby'' he admits with an amused smile, moving his jaw a little from side to side, as well as his neck; that woman is stronger than he expected.
''Yeah? Because I really didn’t.’’ she spits once again, taking a deep breath. ''Liar'' he retorts, eyeing her up and down. ''Liir'' she instantly mocks, still recovering from the tsunami of emotions that just passed through her. ''What the fuck are you doing in Loguetown?''
''I came looking for my sorry excuses for a supporting cast,'' his crew. Were they still alive? Would have sworn Zoro destroyed all of them but who knew. ''and turns out I found the perfect, shiny, little new supporting star for my show'' he adds, as flirtatious as always around her, approaching (Y/N) again.
''Oh, I feel flattered but as I already told you, I don't like being in the spotlight. I relate way more to the shadow around it.”
He rolls his eyes but nods in understanding, reaching out to grab the girl's waist. ''Mhm. What about a private show, then? We have a play to finish, If my memory's not betraying me.'' He whispers honeyed, closing the distance between the two just a bit more. Cannot stop himself, neither he wants to. He knew as soon as he recognized her on the street, he would not let her go without putting order in their outstanding matters.
She’s about to add her usual sarcastic and smartass remark saying something among the lines of ‘without inviting me to dinner first?’ but she chooses not to. Just for once. ''I could agree to that.'' The girl admits, tilting a smile. ''Not here, tho.'' Pressing the clown's chest with her index finger, signaling for him to stay still, (Y/N) runs her tongue over her upper teeth, taking a couple of seconds to think.
In the end, she raises an eyebrow, and with an amused smile, she asks: “Do you trust me?”
''Not in a million years''
''I knew you would say that.'' She still takes one of his hands, that was still on her waist, and starts walking quite fast towards the other end of the alley, pulling him with her. He doesn’t object at all, despite not knowing where the hell is she taking him, and simply follows her lead, unconsciously squeezing her hand to not to lose her in the crowd.
Not many minutes later, after climbing some stairs and turning a few streets, there they are, in front of a beautiful tavern with windows decorated with ornate dark wooden planks, designing patterns of small squares, offering a beautiful view of its interior. The building was not one of the largest in the area, but it was not one of the smallest either. She knew from experience* that the floors above the tavern were rooms rented to the pickiest pirates. They had enough space to rest comfortably after a long voyage at sea, with a good bed and several locks on the doors and windows to prevent intrusions, attempts at robbery or murder, or a drunken idiot making a mistake and entering the wrong room.
*She knows this because a couple of years ago she needed to sneak in during the night to steal a jade seal from a famous pirate captain, who had previously stolen it from the temple it belonged to a few months before. Getting in wasn't easy at all.
Walking to the side of the building, where the windows of the rooms can be seen better, (Y/N) looks right, then left, making sure there’s no one nosing around.
‘’Here we are.’’ She announces, looking at him with a devilish smirk on her face. ''Now pay attention, here's my brilliant, unique and exceptional plan. It will absolutely blow your mind.’’ He cracks a genuine smile after hearing how she praised herself. She sounded almost like him. 
“First step: Throw your head up to that window over there,” she points said window with her index finger, two floors above their heads, “and tell me if there’s someone sleeping inside. Or if you see any sign someone rented the room.’’
Confusion is the feeling that crosses his beautiful face for a second, looking at her with a raised eyebrow and lips pressed into a small incredulous smile. She wants to sneak through the window without being seen and not pay a single berry? Exactly what a true pirate would do. He was starting to fall in love with her.
Without a second thought, his head separates from his body and floats to the open window, slightly sneaking in to check as she asked. And as fast as it goes up, it returns back down, just like a yo-yo. ''Clear'' He confirms, amused. 
''Perfect, second step: now throw your right hand, same window, and leave it there.'' And he does as she says, no questions asked, because he could not do otherwise. Because he wouldn't want to do otherwise. He was not made to follow orders and still, deep down, he knows he would follow hers. Or better said… he would follow her around. She was, maybe, not a theatre kid like him, but to his eyes, she shines brightly.
Not as much as him, tho.
Once Buggy's right hand waits patiently on the window frame, (Y/N) grabs the clown by the shoulders and strategically positions him under the window. Then she takes his left hand, bringing it forward. "Third step: with this hand you propel me into the air, with the other you grab me and you help me sneak in."
''And the final step?'' Getting very close to his face, the girl rubs her nose against his and whispers, voice low and lustful, ''You float to the window and meet me inside for that private show you mentioned before.'' He already knew the goal of that whole improvised plan, but he almost purrs when he hears her say it.
Then Buggy throws her upwards without prior notice, way stronger than she expected, and a sweet, genuine laugh escapes (Y/N)'s lips at the lack of gravity and that distinctive tickle in her stomach that rises to her throat. Not even when he uses that floating hand to catch her and guide her to the room, her feet on solid ground again, she’s able to stop laughing.
She expected this whole forbidden getaway to be entertaining, but not so, so fun. There was no point in denying the obvious: the complicity, the chemistry between them is criminal, asphyxiating, palpable, and so, so /real/. It's not only about physical attraction and sexual tension anymore, they were actually really compatible, which could only, and is already, making things one hundred times better.
As soon as she's inside, still giggling a bit, she's quick to reach the door and securely close it, fitting the bolt with a pair of lockpicks that she had on her. On the other hand, as soon as Buggy gets inside the room he chooses not to lose a single second, because every second he wastes is one less that he can enjoy that fantastic woman who is driving him crazy; before she can return to the center of the room, he has already recovered his right hand, thrown his hat to the floor along with his coat, and has rushed towards her, kissing her again, this time without a hurry, but voraciously, passionately, with the irresistible yearning he has been suffering for almost two weeks. He wants-- no, he needs to make her his. The desire making his blood boil. Her warmth, her smell, the taste of her lips-- even her laugh. It was too much. Too intoxicating.
(Y/N) welcomes him, sighing deeply against his lips, tilting her head a little, melting in the kiss, her hands flying to his hair to take out the bandana and pull at his blue locks, to which Buggy responds by grabbing her from the back of her thighs, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed, near the window. He lets some of his weight fall onto her, loosely holding himself on his knees on the mattress. She closes her legs around his waist, pressing him even a little closer against her body, excitement coursing through her veins like poison.
All that little game with the clown was just flirting, huh? Yeah, sure.
For a minute, everything is kisses, stealing each other's breaths, strong caresses on arms, legs, and back over clothes. There are bites at each other's lips, seemingly incapable of getting enough of the other, the attraction between them driving them both so absolutely insane than getting some distance to get naked seems impossible.
“Baby,” raspily, he press his crotch between her legs to let her feel his growing erection under his pants. ''I suggest you getting naked before I rip your clothes off by myself.''
She moans in response, wetter, more aroused by every second passing, unable to even think about playing hard to get this time. ''Aye aye captain'' she manages to whisper back mischievously, separating her hands from his body in order to pull her own shirt up and throw it somewhere in the room.
He grunts, but makes the titanic effort to separate himself from her, standing on his knees in front of her laying body, licking his lips, breathing heavily, eyes half-closed, already fucking her in his thoughts. Of course, seeing her undress for him is quite a show.
After her shirt comes the button and zipper of her pants. Although before getting rid of these, she pulls the scarf around the clown's neck, forcing him to lean over her again, and after it goes his vest. Given the girl's haste, he lets escape a hoarse laugh that reverberates inside his chest and decides to help her with whatever’s left between them; shoes, pants, gloves, and underwear.
''You're gorgeous'' he breathes, taking in her image in front of him. “You’re almost making me feel guilty for what I'm about to do.”
Before she could even ask, or threaten with a ‘don't you fucking dare’ or something among those lines, one of Buggy's hands flies to her own, and pins her wrists against the bed with such force, she hisses, heart in her throat, deafening her ears. She remembers herself, this was all too good to be true, and that damn clown promised to make her beg. He wasn't going to forgive her so easily, was he?
Her fault.
''Sweetheart, open your beautiful legs for me, will you?'' Returning to the bed, the clown settles between the girl's thighs, running -with the only hand still attached to his body-, one of her legs, from the knee to the hip bone in a slow and tortuous caress.
''Now, I'm pretty sure I warned you about what's about to happen last time you took advantage of my... uncomfortable, kinda-hostage situation on your stupid little boat. When you decided to push me to my limit.''
She is too aroused, too turned on to think clearly, her mind clouded by the same rush of hormones that’s making her incredibly wet. Having him now naked between her legs, threatening her in that low tone of voice, exposed helplessly in front of him, doesn't help at all; it is, as a matter of fact, making things way worse.
''You wanted me to beg, right?’’
''Exactly. It's that easy.'' After a couple of strokes, he grabs his erection and runs it slowly through her wet folds, both of them barely containing a moan in their throats at the sensation. He, perhaps, better than her, because (Y/N) involuntarily pushes her hips upwards, trying to get some more. ''Ah-ah. Want me to fuck you, sweetheart? Just beg for it. Beg for /me/.''
Being the proud woman she is, it's not exactly easy for her to seriously beg for something. Joking? Of course, any time, even sarcastically, but something is telling her, her sixth sense probably, he won't settle with a sarcastic remark and dove eyes.
Closing her eyes tightly, she lets herself be carried away by pure and absolute desperation every time he runs his erection through her, lubricating himself with her fluids. He is silent, already tasting the sweet victory he’ll feel when he manages to break her and make her beg. Although this doesn't happen as quickly as he would have preferred.
''(Y/N)'' He warns, and it's the first time he says her name out loud. The first time she hears him, with his raspy voice and his beautiful accent, pronouncing her real name instead of some compliment or silly nickname to call her.
Welcome, breaking point.
''Beg--'' 
''I need you,'' she interrupts him in a low whimper, lifting her hips. ''Bugs-- Buggy, I need you to fuck me. Now.”
Usually, it's moments like this particular one in which the clown enjoys recreating himself, making others beg a little more, -sex, mercy, forgiveness- doesn’t matter-, taking his good time listening to her moans and cries of desperation. But he can't help it, the second he hears the girl call him by his name, telling him how much she needs him, and that silly attempt of an order at the end, he knows it’s game over, and he decides to give her exactly what she wants, penetrating her suddenly the last time he runs slowly through her folds. A sweet moan of relief and pleasure escapes from (Y/N) chest along with a "Fuck, Buggy--". From him, a hoarse grunt. A shiver runs down their spines, and quickly, Buggy recovers his other hand, freeing her from his grip, to aggressively pull both of her thighs to bring her closer to him, and begins to thrust hard, all shreds of self-control escaping from his body lightspeed.
He pushes into her as deep as he can in no time, burying himself between her legs, face hidden in the crook of her neck, hands keeping her legs open, close to his hips.
She doesn't know what she likes more, the erratic sound of his breathing and panting in her ear, the desperation with which his whole body seems to search for hers or each penetration sending an ecstasy shock through her nerves, but she soon becomes a puddle of sweet moans, whimpers and breathing as heavy as his, one hand pulling hard at his blue hair, the other resting on his abdomen, nails digging slightly his skin with each thrust.
''Oh god, Bugs--’’
''Moan my name louder baby,'' he breathes before biting her shoulder, leaving the mark of his teeth imprinted on her skin. ''I want them to catch us. I want them hearing you scream my name.”
And she does. She moans his name again, just not as loud as he wants. Which means there is something, something he can do better. Something to push her to her limit, to make her a believer, and make her /his/.
Summoning all his willpower, and not before one last, violent thrust, the clown stops and suddenly pulls out of her. (Y/N) complains with a loud cry, opening her eyes to ask what the fuck is he actually doing, how dares he to stop. Thank God, she doesn't have time to threaten him before he speaks.
''On your knees.'' And of course she obliges, on all fours, the simple idea making her completely lose her mind. Only thing, Buggy doesn't intend to keep her like this for a long time; as soon as she exposes herself for him again, he buries himself once more inside her as deep as he can and starts thrusting again, slowly but strongly, ending each thrust with a loud slam. This time, both hands separate from his body, one reaching for her delicate neck, which he circles with his fingers and presses to lightly cut off her breathing. The other one flies to her mouth, pushing between her lips with two fingers that she soaks in her saliva.
(Y/N), unable to articulate a single complaint, sucks, bites and licks them, muffling against them every sound that escapes her throat.
A pleasure shock, like a lightning bolt, forces her to arch her back the moment that same hand flies to her clitoris and starts masturbating it, overstimulating her.
Buggy is really determined to make her his, to not let her forget about him, to become the legitimate protagonist of each of her erotic fantasies, so to finish driving her crazy, the hand he has around her neck lifts her up, pulling her until he forces her back against his torso in a beautiful reference to the day they met and the first time he felt that magnetic attraction inevitably pulling him towards her.
''So. Much. Better,” he manages to whisper between grunts and raspy moans, surrounding her abdomen with one of his arms to keep her in place, close to his chest, sacrificing penetrating her as deeply as he would like but without caring in the slightless because he knows, she is quickly reaching her orgasm. He can feel it in the way her walls contract around his cock, in the beating of her heart in her throat against his hand, and in how her hands reach for anything, trying to support herself; in this case, his arm around her, nails scratching his skin.
''C'mon baby, cum for me.'' He groans, refusing to fall headfirst to his own orgasm because he doesn't plan to finish before her. Under other circumstances he would have done it, he has never been the kind of generous lover who thinks of his partner's pleasure before his own. This woman is breaking some old habits and patterns just being the way she is. And he doesn't care at all.
A few more thrust, the lack of enough oxygen in her lungs and that wonderful pressure on her clitoris, and (Y/N) explodes in an orgasm so strong she begins to breathless moan Buggy’s name over and over again like a mantra, which obviously feeds his ego so, so much, it ends up sending him over the same edge, moaning her name under his breath, resting his forehead on her shoulder, hugging her body tightly as they ride their climax.
                                        …
''Told you I would make you beg'' he cracks a devilish smirk, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders when he finally lies on the mattress.
''Yeah'' she giggles, although sarcastically, recovering by the second, enough clarity to recompose her own ego. ''You also told me you would make me find the One Piece without going to the Grand Line and I cannot see it anywhere yet.''
What a subtle way of asking for a second round, he thinks to himself, clearly pleased -instead of offended- for the way his smile stretches even more, looking intently at her.
“You're right.” He would have liked to lie on the bed for a while, getting back some energy and attack again, but damn him if he ever dares to reject a provocation as bold as that one. He wouldn't forgive himself.
Getting out of bed almost as quickly as he lay down a few minutes ago, Buggy cracks his neck from side to side, and taking one of the chairs next to the table in the room, he turns it in the air, leaving it pointing towards the girl.
He then sits down, leaning on the backrest, relaxed, exhaling an erotic, slow sigh as he exaggeratedly separates his legs in a clear invitation for her to come closer and sit on them.
"What did you say the other day? About liking a man with his entire body, capable of fucking you in his lap and making you scream his name?"
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signedeclipse · 1 year
Note
Please could i request a oneshot of Haganezuka meeting and falling in love with a hashira reader (Tanjiro’s older sibling) 💙💙
One More Time [Haganezuka X Reader]
Reader is Human Gender Neutral | Fluff + Romance
Recomended Song - Rather Be by Clean Bandit
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It wasn't his first sword delivery, but Hotaru had never been assigned to a slayer permanently before, having only made swords for beginners of the corps or for practice, since most upper ranks in the corps chose older, more seasoned nichirin swordsmiths.
Part of him was excited, being able to tend to an individual's abilities and forge something more unique, as opposed to the clear cut ones most starter blades were.
The other part was frustrating, because it wasn't for anyone unique, no one had specifically chosen him, just a random assignment since all the others had enough to care for. Still, he tried to feel grateful that this was a chance at becoming more reputable.
He remembered his first encounter with the Kamado, the excitement at the idea of a red blade, the disappointment that followed.
It all loomed over him now that the Kamado name had long since grown. It was hard not to recognize such a unique family; a demon, one of the fastest-growing slayers, and the sun hashira. While he wasn't one to take back his words so easily, he was reminded by the chief to bite his tongue the next time he tried mouthing off to the family.
But luck had not been on his side.
When news got back to him that Tanjiro had broken his blade for the second time, Hotaru felt a mix of anger and shame.
Anger that once again his craftsmanship had not been enough, and shame at the idea that it'd likely happen again were he not more careful.
The idea flashed across his mind that his failure twice in a row might mean he would lose Tanjiro as a client of sorts, or that he would be forced to resign from being a swordsmith, so he avoided confronting or contacting him in favour of preparing himself to make the best blade imaginable.
There he was, as the sun had barely begun to rise and the sky was a mid-blue hue, casting the village and its surroundings in a cool tone. Though he slept soundly, he woke up before anyone else got the chance so he could get a head start on his exercises, which gave him time to ponder how long he had before Tanjiro came to him instead.
"So, you must be Haganezuka."
The voice almost startled him from his perch atop a cliffside, though he barely showed it besides the clenching of his fists. The voice was entirely unfamiliar, though before he could turn to look at them their presence had moved.
"Is that a yes?" You were to his right, which he turned to finally meet the individual who had managed to find him.
While still taken back by the speed at which you had moved, he was also very surprised to see the same maroon eyes as Kamado, except it was clear that you were no Tanjiro.
"Well, I'm sure you've realised who I am, but you can just refer to me as Kamado."
Hotaru had not expected your presence in the village, had you been sent in place of your brother?
"I don't have a blade ready yet." Haganezuka had bowed his head slightly. He could run and be stubborn all he wanted, but Hashira could be far more harsh in punishment.
"Blade? I'm not- no-" You had let out a string of laughs, facing away from him and covering your mouth to suppress the giggles. He looked so worried! Even if you hadn't seen his face, the atmosphere around him had certainly dropped.
"It's his first time in the village, I couldn't miss it! Well, that and my swordsmith will be retiring, so I'm here to meet some of the newer generations and pick someone I feel is capable. I was never a fan of blind recommendations." While you spoke, Hotaru had straightened out his posture and looked back out at the village, the sun now growing the area with orange rays.
You were very relaxed, and far more talkative than any hashira he had met, so any intimidation he felt melted away, especially considering you weren't here to scold him.
"Anyways, I hope you give my little brother a hard time, sometimes I think he gets it too easy because of his kindness, and he needs to be ready to combat issues that aren't life-threatening..." Judging by your words, you hadn't seen Haganezuka chasing after your sibling with knives, which relieved him.
Still pouting from his faulty blades, he kept silent, deciding he didn't want to say much if more to prove a point for himself.
By the time he glanced to his right again, you were long gone, with nothing but the imprint of where you sat left in the grass.
.
The next time he saw you, you were with Kanamori, who held two nichirin blades that had seen better days.
Having been found by Tanjiro and been given the blade he was to repair, Hotaru was on his way to eat and prepare for the gruelling 72 hours worth of work he had ahead of him.
Despite the raging inspiration he felt, you had stopped him dead in his tracks, pulling all the air from him until he felt weak again. Hotaru hadn't realised how much he'd hoped to see you again, and you were still here.
"Ah, have you met my good friend, Haganezuka?" Kanamori motioned to the taller swordsmith, who you noticed now had a wide hat fit with chimes...and his upper torso was revealed, the rest of his clothes wrapped around his waist.
You nodded, smiling and waving to the surprisingly well-built swordsmith, trying to hide your rosy cheeks with a smile.
"I have, but, it's a long story." Shrugging your shoulders, Kanamori hummed pleasantly, before returning to a slow strive towards his workshop, pulling you along considering your arms were linked.
Apparently, Kanamori had experience with dual blades, so you had chosen him for his kind personality and experience since you were a dual wielder.
Before you had entirely left, you turned to look back at Haganezuka, throwing a thumbs up.
"You better make sure this one doesn't break!! I'm trusting you!"
Of course, he would have to make the best blade he could manage, for Tanjiro; if not to prove himself as a worthy swordsmith, then to impress the eldest Kamado.
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Author Note -  For some reason this took me so long to write I get procrasinating but WE GOT ER DOWN!!! Thank you for requesting <3
Word Count - 1,058
Art Credit - Kimetsu No Yaiba (2019)
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fatuismooches · 7 months
Text
fabulam diu oblitus - prelude.
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synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: This is the first part of a multi-chaptered fic that became too long to put into one post. It is a telling of your and Dottore's life as a fairytale, with fragile reader because yes. Thank you to all of my followers and anons who helped me figure out the animals that should be used and especially my lovely moot @kaixserzz!
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prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.
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“Once upon a time, there was a baby raven. The raven was an inquisitive and curious hatchling who wanted to explore things that no one else had ever dared of. But because of his ideas, the raven was beaten, shunned, and cursed for the entirety of his childhood. Eventually, as soon as he reached adulthood, he was chased away from his nest, and from that day on, the raven swore to never trust a single soul ever again. But one day, the raven came across a sparrow, who seemed to love to challenge and test him at every possible moment.”
When Zandik was exiled from his hometown, he thought that he was prepared for what was to come, for he had experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer. He knew better than to give any other person the time of day and resolved himself to be cold and closed off. And he didn’t mind being that way, as everyone at the Akademiya was a sore, shallow disappointment. He wondered if anything of substance ever went through those brains of theirs. Ignoring his classmates had garnered him a poor reputation, but it didn’t bother Zandik too much as he was far more interested in his personal research.
That was until he met you.
You had barged into his life out of nowhere, much to his dismay, and invaded his space, now occupying one of the beds in the dorm. You had greatly sabotaged his workspace and time, as now he had to be conscious of what he worked on in your presence. He had to be careful in his own bedroom because of you. It was positively infuriating. But perhaps the most confusing and annoying thing was your attitude towards him. 
You were… kind. You would smile at him. You would inquire into his studies and research with supposedly genuine interest (he had yet to deduce whether you were being real or not.) You would cook for him and continued to do so even though he had yet to thank you for it. You would run errands for him willingly without any protest. You would shut down anyone talking shit about him immediately.
Zandik didn’t like it.
“Despite the sparrow’s kind nature, the raven couldn’t bring himself to accept it. It wasn’t unheard of for ravens to prey on sparrows, and at some moments, sometimes the raven wanted nothing more than to swallow up the sparrow so they wouldn’t be in his hair anymore. But there were no opportunities for the raven to do that, so he was forced to endure the sparrow’s presence. However, he came to realize that the sparrow had far more strengths than he initially gave them credit for. Over time, it blossomed into a most unique relationship, one that should have never been possible.”
Zandik wanted you gone. Your behavior didn’t sit quite right with him, for reasons that weren’t hard to guess. But there was nothing he could do. No amount of harsh words or bickering could seem to deter you. Surely you heard of the rumors? Of what he possibly could have done? Of what he could possibly do to you? And yet you insisted on sticking around, despite his vehement denial of your presence.
Although Zandik didn’t like you, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate your usefulness. And more recently, your intelligence as well. You didn’t think like the other scholars at the Akademiya. You weren’t short-sighted or close-minded, you were always open to new ideas and discussions. You were willing to listen to him even while he was being rude and made zero sense, always having a notepad handy to write down his words. At first, Zandik thought you were mocking him, but a quick investigation into your notes made it clear that you were one hundred percent serious. 
Naturally, you didn’t think exactly like him either for obvious reasons, but it was… refreshing. That made you far more intelligent in his eyes than any other brain-dead scholar. Yet at the same time, your excessive kindness made him think you were painfully stupid. Especially when his cruel insults and ignorance didn’t drive you away, and at some point you had the audacity to start giggling at him whenever he did so. Very strange, stupid, and smart.
He had dubbed you an enigma. Indeed, you were puzzling and difficult to understand. Normally, he enjoyed the challenge when it came to stuff like ancient texts or questions that arrived from his research, however, he wasn’t sure if he liked these qualities in a person. He liked your curiosity but your personality made him feel things he didn’t want to. But much to his dread, even this scholar wasn’t totally immune to your sweet charms, and he was slowly but surely beginning to warm up to you.
“Against all odds, the raven and sparrow became one and the same. It seemed as though the two could not be separated.”
You were always sure it was going to be a long and arduous journey, becoming Zandik’s friend, but you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. Though even you could not have anticipated how much Zandik would like you, despite it always being your goal. It started off gradually, and it took you a bit to realize his small changes toward you. 
Something you realized was that Zandik enjoyed being genuinely listened to. Perhaps because no one had lent him an ear, or even then never took what he said seriously. Perhaps he was mocked and shut down. So you listened. And he told you more, and more, and more every time. You could be doing your own thing, and Zandik would drag you away from it, under the premise that his work was far more important. The audacity! But you didn’t really mind, except the times he woke you up in the middle of the night to check over his conclusions. 
Even still, it was hard not to find his bursts of excitement and passion cute. It was hard not to find how he inhaled your cooking cute. It was hard not to find his little grunts of approval at your work or the reluctant compliment of “Good, I guess” cute. And oh, and don’t get you started on the way he blushed when you got a little too close, and then promptly told you to fuck off. Zandik was so cute. Unhinged. Not a good or nice person. Mean. But cute. 
Eventually came a time when Zandik stopped trying to get rid of you. He stopped locking you out of the dorm and he stopped throwing insults at you for merely existing with him. Instead came times when you two would “hang out” as you would put it. You’d teach him how to cook but uncharacteristically gave up after one lesson because he was truly that bad. You would do group projects together and then snicker to one another about how the other groups’ work paled in comparison. You two would go out together, initially for the purpose of research, but end up spending some time relaxing in the soft plush of the forest together. No words were said, but perhaps fingers and legs accidentally brushed each other every now and then.
These were good times, Zandik admitted to himself.
“Despite their blatant differences, the raven and sparrow seemed to fit together perfectly, wings and beaks tucked into each other effortlessly. Both had accepted each other for who they were, something no one else had done for either of them. Many years passed, and the two developed feelings for each other. However, neither of them was sure how to express their love.”
The good times lasted far, far longer than Zandik could have ever dreamed of. You had remained a constant in his life for many years. He could have never imagined you’d stick around nor would he tolerate your presence for so long. It was now that he realized that there would always be a vast amount of possibilities in this world, ones that he would never believe existed, but they certainly did. You were an example of that.
Another thing he realized was how differently his body and mind could react around you.
Zandik realized, that sometimes his palms could get hot around you. Not sweaty, but hot and tingly. It was a strange sensation. He realized, that when your skin came into contact with his, instead of feeling like he had just been scalded, he simply felt… warmth. Not the overbearing or underwhelming kind. It was just warm. The worst part was, he realized that on very few and rare occasions, his heart would speed up a bit and get stuck in his throat. It was horrible. Zandik despised it.
And his mind, his mind would unconsciously favor you. He would wonder, what time were you coming home? Did anyone bother you? When you didn’t understand something, his mind automatically went to the idea of explaining again (begrudgingly?) instead of leaving you hanging. He hated group projects even more now when they weren’t with you because his mind instinctively knew that other people simply could not hope to compare to you in the slightest. His mind grew in various ways over the years, but this particular aspect… he was confused. This part wasn’t necessarily a hindrance, but it was odd and he couldn’t control it. Zandik preferred to be in control, especially of his own body, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand. 
You, on the other hand, completely understood your own feelings as well as Zandik’s. There was no doubt about it. You were in love with Zandik. Zandik was in love with you. This was the irrefutable truth. You couldn’t determine exactly at what point he began to like you romantically, but you knew you had liked him for years. You were just glad the pining was mutual now because the feelings were starting to weigh heavy on your heart. But now, you found yourself in a plight.
How to finally confess to Zandik.
You really had no idea how to do it. If it was any normal person, you’d probably have an easier time. But no, this was Zandik, which made everything complicated. You had gone through multiple different scenarios in your head, and none of them seemed right. You thought about it, in the morning, during class, while eating, on expeditions, before bed. Yes, the procedure of making Zandik your boyfriend was occupying your mind far more than it should be, embarrassingly enough.
Zandik noticed your continuous contemplative state of mind as well. He wasn’t much of a fan. No, not at all. Did you realize how much of a nuisance it was to be explaining or giving instructions to you and then find out you’re staring into space (which coincidentally happens to be his face) instead? And then he has to snap at you to pay attention and instead, you just give him a silly smile? It was nonsensical. At some point, Zandik had decided this had gone on far too long and demanded you tell him what had occupied your mind so much that it turned you into an airhead. Unfortunately, it was mostly unsuccessful as you two only had a little back-and-forth, with you defending that you were just tired lately and Zandik calling you out on that bullshit. But he let it go.
Was he worried? No, of course not. It was just that having his assistant’s mind not focused on him was entirely bothersome.
… Alright perhaps he was a little worried. Just a little. He didn’t like it when you were troubled.
“But thankfully, the sparrow found a moment to show their true feelings. Was it the perfect moment? No, perhaps not. But it became one. And amazingly enough, the odd duo had become an odd couple.”
It was the most average of nights. Really, incredibly average. The two of you were stuck on the floor doing a group project for the past few nights. It was a lot of work, meant for a group of people, but of course, you and Zandik refused to add anyone else to the group, so now you two had been grinding the work together for a while. But neither of you minded. It really was much easier with the two of you anyway.
Right now, Zandik was rambling on about what to add and what to do next and the comparisons and contrasting of the data and a variety of other things. Normal Zandik things, as he pointed and waved his hands to make his point. But all of his words entered one ear and came out the next for you. You were far too busy admiring his beauty.
Zandik didn’t notice your adoring stare, no, of course, he was too caught up in his rambling, but that was okay. You didn’t know what came over you, but an impulsive thought to just make him see came over you. To taste him. To let him taste you. To let him realize the depth of your feelings. To let him realize the extent of his own feelings too.
And so for the first time ever, you cupped Zandik’s cheek, to which his words came to an abrupt stop. He practically swiveled his head around to give you one of those signature looks of his, and he had your hand that was on his cheek in a tight grip around your wrist, nails digging into your skin as an automatic response to such blatant physical touch. It hurt, but that was when you took the opportunity.
After all, it was hard to focus on the pain when his lips were on yours. 
You were kissing Zandik, who was immediately practically screaming into your lips, along the muffled lines of “whadahelareyodoigmph?” And you would have chuckled at his reaction, were it not for how entranced you were by kissing him. It seemed, that after the initial shock, Zandik piped down and also began to process what was happening. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t move away. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you took the chance to intertwine your fingers with his instead before pulling away in satisfaction. Zandik’s face was red and his lip quivered in a half-hearted scowl, probably cursing both you and himself because of the fact he enjoyed a mere kiss that much. But he wasn’t the only one affected. Your own heart was hammering out of your chest as you tried to stop yourself from smiling too widely.
“You know, I’ve…” you paused, trying to control your heartbeat, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” So this was what was occupying that idiot mind of yours, Zandik thinks. How stupid.
Zandik's eyes flickered to yours, bearing a half-hearted glare, and they only said one thing: oh, he hated how easily you made him feel disgustingly weak, and how his fingers tremble in anticipation when you’re near, and how his heart beats far too much for what’s to come next, but oh, he demands that you do it again right now before he goes mad. So you did. You kissed Zandik again, and this time he kissed back.
His pointy teeth grazed your lip as he awkwardly kissed back, clearly unsure of what he was doing. But that was okay. You were probably his first kiss, after all, the idea of doing such a thing with anyone was revolting to him. Before he fell in love with you, of course. Well, this was your first kiss too, but you had read enough books to know what you were doing. You caressed his hair, gently rubbed his arms, and perhaps pushed him down on the bed a bit. It was very nice, to have years of feelings condensed into these kisses.
Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night after the kissing session, the group project now long forgotten. Except when you squeaked in pain since he had the gall to bite down on your lip, then swipe your bloody lip with his tongue deviously. You should have known that Zandik being inexperienced in something only lasts for a short time.
When you two finally went to sleep, Zandik allowed it when you climbed into his bed and delicately placed a hand on his chest, cuddling into him.
“The sparrow and raven’s romantic partnership began just like that. Nothing else needed to be said. In all honesty, nothing had changed much between the two who had been friends for years, except for the addition of an overwhelming amount of affection from the sparrow towards the raven.”
You and Zandik were dating now. It was truly a dream come true. Truly a dreamlike moment to randomly kiss his cheek and then watch him become a mixture of flustered and angry at you for doing such things. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to squeeze his hand under the table when people were talking about him. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to hold him and caress him all over, to watch his face as he received the love he never received as a child. And truly a… laughable moment as he familiarized himself with holding you, which took much work and effort. 
It was fine though. You were positive your relationship would endure throughout any kind of struggle.
“Though, like any kind of relationship, the two sometimes encountered a few bumps and turns that would perhaps set them back. But, these problems never lasted too long because… the sparrow and the raven had unusual ways of solving their problems sometimes.”
Zandik wasn’t very strong. Smart, a definite yes, but his physical abilities weren’t anything special, which was why you took it upon yourself to fight whenever the need arose. So when he came back to the dorms one day with hastily wrapped bandages and cuts and bruises, naturally you were extremely worried.
“Who did this?” He didn’t respond to you as he made his way to the bathroom and you quickly followed after. Zandik was digging through the cabinet for more medical supplies, the previous bandages now lying on the floor.
“Zandik,” you murmured. You knew that people didn’t like him, but you didn’t think it would go to such a physical extent. Most people had the common sense to leave him alone or merely talk about him instead. But now that you thought about it, you had an idea of who it could be. Ugh, those fools from the recent expedition. When Zandik exposed their faulty and false research in front of everyone with ease, they seemed to grow some kind of grudge against him. 
“Zandik, let me see.”
“There’s no need.” You watched as he roughly treated the wounds, his emotions clearly showing in his actions.
“Zandik, I can-”
“I said no,” your lover harshly snapped, gritting his teeth. He was trying to stop himself from saying anything else because he could say things he didn’t mean when he was in this kind of mood.
“Okay then,” you acquiesced and let him be. As much as you wanted to comfort him, it wasn’t a good time now. You needed to give him some space first. But at least when you left the dorm, you had a goal in mind.
You didn’t return until it was pitch black outside, and similarly, all the lights in the dorm’s building were off, so you wandered through the darkness until you reached your room. Ah, the door was unlocked too. Zandik must have left it open for you. You just hoped you didn’t get any blood on the doorknob.
The room was dark. Zandik probably went to sleep early. You went straight to the bathroom to clean up. After all, your hands and clothes were all icky with the blood of your classmates. Flipping on the light and looking at yourself in the mirror, you examined yourself. Good thing you weren’t wearing a nice outfit. And your face, not a single scratch of course. They couldn’t lay a hand on you and they wouldn’t be laying a hand on Zandik ever again.
“Where were you?” The sudden voice nearly made you jump. Zandik was at the doorway. So he was awake.
“Oh, Zandik. Hello. I was simply out with my friends, you know?” You gave him a reassuring smile. Obviously, the scholar knew that was a complete lie. He knew what you had done, he just had trouble understanding why. And how too.
Zandik came up to you and grabbed your hands, surprising you. His watchful eyes checked them thoroughly, the blood not bothering him in the slightest. You were truly unharmed. If you weren’t, he would have done something a lot worse than what you did.
“What, are you worried?” You teased. He seemed to be feeling better. Zandik only huffed in response.
“Why would you do that? Now the Akademiya is going to be behind your back.” Classic Zandik, using negativity to mask his appreciation.
“No, they won’t. Our little friends got beaten up by some Eremites instead. They told me so themselves,” you giggled almost a little crazily at his expression. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Zandik.”
“Even so, it was,” he paused for a quick second to think, “a fruitless waste of time. You could have been helping me instead.” Again, you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. It would really kill him to be truthful for once, huh?
“Look,” you placed both your bloody hands over his own. “You are my boyfriend, are you not?” You cocked your head to the side, waiting for a response to which he nodded. “Precisely. So by that logic, I am yours, and you are mine. And naturally, I like to take care of things that are mine. Especially if that happens to be my brilliant blue-haired scholar,” you smiled. Perhaps you seemed a touch bit possessive. But this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, no, you two belonged to each other after all. Zandik didn’t respond but he unconsciously gripped your hands a little bit tighter.
“Just make sure no one sees you doing the laundry,” he huffed.
“Yes, love~,” you pressed a kiss on his cheek to which he made another grumble but made no effort to stop you. After you two got cleaned up, a restful and peaceful sleep came naturally.
“Underneath the moon and stars, the two shared years' worth of memories, touches, and love. Though even the moon couldn’t quite understand this seemingly impossible couple, it still bore witness to their endeavors every night without fail. But one day, tragedy struck. The sparrow fell sick to a terrible illness.”
Your relationship with Zandik had become one of the highlights of your life. Perhaps it seemed like you were too crazed for the man, but what was love if you two weren’t a bit crazy for each other? Your life was truly a joy with this grouchy and easily irritable scholar who went a wee bit soft at affection. Well, that was if you excluded the few ailments you had come down with recently.
It started small at first. 
Seemingly minor things affected you. Perhaps a painful throb in your head that wouldn’t seem to go away, but you passed it off as the stresses of exams and school. Aches and pains when you moved your body, but maybe it was just from sleeping in awkward positions because you kept passing out in the middle of the night after pulling yet another all-nighter with Zandik. Sometimes you felt unusually cold, or perhaps hotter than normal. But you thought it was nothing too big, maybe something was going around in the Akademiya.
That’s what Zandik thought too… at first. You were a strong person, no stranger to fighting whether it was people or Ruin Drakes. You would bounce back. In fact, in the beginning, he thought you were overdramatizing your pain. Groaning and whining and clinging to him in an attempt to convince him to stay in the dorms today instead of going out on this expedition. Of course, he shook you off and rolled his eyes, telling you to hurry up. He didn’t miss the tiny sigh you let out, and the slight twinge in his chest but that was quickly washed over by the thought that you were simply milking your unwell condition in an effort to gain more of his attention. 
He didn’t miss how you were much quieter than usual, leaving his voice to fill the silence as you two walked. He didn’t miss your slow and tired steps, to which you had to ask for him to slow down which he begrudgingly did. And he certainly did not miss when you tripped and nearly fell were it not for him catching you in time.
Zandik was about to scold you for your carelessness but the words died on his tongue at your expression. Dulled eyes and pants, your chest heaving up and down due to the strain. You swallowed before your eyes sparked back to life again, seemingly recovering from that little fall. 
“Sorry,” you smiled at him with a hint of nervousness. “Guess I didn’t get enough sleep.” Yeah, you went to sleep a bit late last night, but it wasn’t a three AM kind of night. It was rather earlier than usual, to be honest. So you really weren’t sure why your body was acting like this. Zandik looked at you, silent and unimpressed, but you think he bought it. After that, you tried to return to your normal chirpy self despite the throbbing of your head. You were saved by the fact that this expedition was only examining plants and fauna for a class instead of the normal expeditions you and Zandik carry out.
It did not get better from then. Zandik surely noticed from the way his usual rude comments gradually turned into silence and quiet help at your genuine condition. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell that you were being real. But it all boiled over one afternoon.
You wanted to ignore your deteriorating state badly. You wanted to pretend that it didn’t exist. If you admitted it to yourself, then everything would be over. For what good were you when you were stuck in bed all day? Not just to yourself, but to Zandik as well? You knew he would never leave you, wouldn’t ever hate you but… still, it bothered and worried you more than you liked to admit. So whenever it was possible, you did some tasks for your lover.
Today’s errand was simple. You’d done it multiple times before. You just had to retrieve some parts Zandik ordered (legally, this time) and bring them back to the dorm. And you had done just that… only with a minor hiccup. Yes, it was only a small setback, being pushed and shoved by some of your classmates who didn’t like you or Zandik. Yes, it was just an insignificant occurrence, your body too weak to fight back and put them in their place like you normally did. And since it was so trivial, you didn’t want Zandik to know. So when you got back to the dorm, you put on your smiling face and acted oblivious, handing your boyfriend the purchase and then scurrying to the bathroom. 
Not to mention, there were some scuffs and marks on your uniform. They looked to be only minor, but Zandik still noticed them immediately. Your uniform was crisp and pristine before you left, after all. And whenever you got into an altercation, you’d tell him every time. This time, however, seemed different. Now that you looked back, you were pretty damn obvious, but your knees were hurting really bad.
The scholar waited a few moments before waiting outside the bathroom door, listening in. What he heard were whines and grunts of pains, and then something falling supposedly from the cabinet, and then a string of curses from you. You were definitely hurt.
“[Name].” His tone was flat and serious, and immediately all noise from the bathroom became nonexistent.
“…Yes?” That tone of voice. You were guilty of something.
“I’m coming in,” he didn’t bother giving you a grace period despite your sputters of protest. Zandik found you near the sink, only in your undergarments, Akademiya uniform discarded to the hamper, now stained with small patches of blood. Knees and elbows scraped and bloody. Instinctively you moved your heads to cover your elbows at least, in an attempt to minimize the severity of the situation… which didn’t really work.
“Oh… hey Zandik!” You smiled nervously. “See this,” you motioned to your injuries, “I just tripped and fell again. No big deal!” You had a good and believable excuse. It was just that your execution of it was really bad and your boyfriend could see through you easily. But he didn’t need you to tell the truth, he already had a hunch as to what happened. Plus, if you truly had fell, the gashes wouldn’t have been so deep.
“...” Zandik seemed expressionless as he went behind you and grabbed the bandages and the necessary supplies to disinfect it, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the bed. You opened your mouth to argue but closed it again, probably realizing there was no getting out of this. It was eerily quiet as Zandik uncharacteristically treated your wounds with more care than usual. Most of the time, he was rough with it as he scolded you for being dumb, rolling his eyes as you chastised him for being so mean. This time, however, most of the sting was from the liquid cleaning the wound. He finally wrapped the bandage neatly around your knees and elbows, before he broke the silence.
“You’re not leaving the dorm tomorrow.” You snapped your head up at this statement.
“Excuse me? Yes, I-”
“No, you’re not. You’re staying in bed.”
“You can’t decide that for me. I can go where I-”
“Not when you’re like this,” he bluntly stated. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and you knew it. But hearing it like that hurt, even though you knew this was Zandik’s way of looking out for you.
The room was quiet again since you couldn’t argue any further.
And so, you had decided to take a break from going to classes for a while. Well, it was more like Zandik had decided that for you, his words being that it would be a great inconvenience for both of you if you continued to act like this, and so he confined you to bed rest and refused to let you leave. Sure, his expeditions would have to be delayed, he lamented, but it would be a waste of time to go when you weren’t in tip-top shape. So stop being an idiot and fighting him and rest already. You know, Zandik’s typical way of being worried. He even took the time to teach you everything, and of course, keep you updated on how shitty the professors were.
So now, your days consisted of resting in the dorm, sometimes doing homework that Zandik brought home, or your own hobbies. But you did feel bad. You didn’t like sitting around and doing nothing all day long when Zandik had to be by himself now. If you were going to be stuck in the dorm all day, the least you could do is tidy up a bit. And of course, cook for the two of you.
Cooking and sometimes even baking were things you liked, but it became one of your favorite things because of Zandik. It sounded strange, but you liked seeing him well-fed and not living off of his inedible cooking. Today you would make… shawarma wraps. Yes, you were in the mood for that today. And so you got to work preparing and cutting the ingredients. The only problem was… your hands were far more shaky than you wanted them to be. The knife quivered in your hands and now the vegetables were being cut weirdly.
Indeed, it had been harder to steady your hands nowadays, so you tried to go for easier food to prepare. But you really wanted to eat some shawarma wraps today,  so you continued on. If you just focus your hand, then surely the knife would just-
…And now, there was blood spurting onto the countertop and dripping on the floor. Just great. It was like nothing would go your way ever again once you came down with this mysterious illness. You blinked back tears the whole time you clumsily wrapped the cut and cleaned the kitchen. 
It was a horrible feeling really, to suddenly be unable to do things that were once so easy. To have things you once loved doing feel like a daunting chore now. No matter how hard you tried to avoid thinking about your illness, it felt like it was consuming your life now. You didn’t want it to start defining you… but it hurt. So badly, that you didn’t even bother putting up your usual cheerful front that evening. Zandik took one look at your hand and could deduce what happened. He would have scolded you, were it not for your terribly gloomy expression.
Once again, in pure silence, he redressed your wound (which was poorly wrapped by your unsteady hands.) You didn’t want to speak, nor did you want Zandik to speak. You didn’t want any pity or reprimanding right now. You quietly rested your head on his shoulder, requesting nothing more.
“From then on, the little sparrow’s condition only went on a downward spiral. It seemed like no amount of rest and medication could hope to help them recover. Slowly, it seemed like they were becoming a shell of their former self… quiet, tired, and closed off. The raven could only watch as his beloved grew farther… and farther… and more distant from him in more ways than one. In fact, it would be more fitting to call the sparrow a butterfly now. Butterflies are beautiful, but transient. They are truly a joy to admire, but if one gets attached, they will only end up in a world of pain as the butterfly leaves them far too soon.”
You had long given up on classes and work. The assignments Zandik brought home were piled up in a corner. Just looking at them made you feel exhausted. You tried to do some every now and then, but how could you focus on school when you felt like you were physically and mentally deteriorating with every passing day? Though, many had no sympathy for your current predicament which was why you found yourself in your current predicament.
Kicked out of the Akademiya. How embarrassing. Yes, you were not joking. They had a letter of expulsion delivered right to your door for being absent and missing too many assignments, and an order to pack all your belongings and leave within a week. You were not very surprised and kind of accepted it. Zandik on the other hand, had a few choice words for the messenger, before slamming the door with a bang. He was much more wildly upset about this than you were, a spew of curses directed towards a multitude of people in the Akademiya came flying out his mouth. He wouldn’t accept this, he said. But both you and him knew there was nothing to be done, especially since they would never listen to an outcast such as himself. So in due time, you found yourself admitted to Sumeru’s local hospital. Zandik’s expression was grim, which you tried to change.
“I know you’re going to miss cuddling up to me at night, dearest,” you teased in an effort to lighten up the mood. “Don’t miss me too much!” Zandik, however, did not have the slightest reaction, which made your smile dim.
“Hey,” your tone dropped a bit. “Don’t look so glum. Otherwise, you’re really going to make me think you can’t live without me.” This particular tease made his eye twitch.
Zandik scoffed, “You overestimate yourself. I am not so helpless that I would need you to be near me at all times. Furthermore, I suggest you be ready for when you come back. We have a lot of work to catch up on.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh, how perfect it was, despite all the changes in your life, Zandik never changes, does he? With his harsh words veiled with some kindness underneath, a silent promise to you that he will make you better and you will be healthy again in no time.
“Of course, of course, love. I promise I’ll be ready to be worked to the bone by you after all of this,” you smiled softly. Zandik rolled his eyes, but at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay.
And it… kind of was, for a while. If you ignore the whole context of the situation. You were surprised to see Zandik make time for you every day to visit you in your dreary hospital room, but he did. He would bring you things sometimes, books or puzzles so that your brain wouldn’t get bored. The hospital staff were initially on guard at his presence every day, for his reputation had spread even beyond the Akademiya, but they got used to him after many repeated visits. 
Zandik, on the other hand, didn’t realize how much different you made his life until you were actually gone. He told himself that he could deal with it, that he had done it long before he ever met you, so he would be fine.
He wasn’t.
No longer could he bask in you and everything that came with you. Your brains, your intelligence, your strength, your efficiency, your productivity, your voice, your smile, your laughs, your horrible jokes, your touch, your cuddles, your body - you, you, you. No longer could he call for you and you would be there in an instant, arms swung around his shoulders. No longer could he fall victim to being the taste tester for your new recipes. No longer could he consume your very being… it was driving him mad. He despised how you weren’t at your rightful place at his side.
And he despised how dull your eyes had gotten. For the first few weeks, it was “normal” at least. You’d still be excited to see him. Listen to him. Converse with him. Beg him to stop trying to cook again and just buy takeout. “Normal” things. But now, it was very different. You never outright ignored his presence but, you were far more distant. Barely speaking full sentences, save for the “mhm” and “uh huh” that sounded more forced than anything. Not even mustering the energy to reach out to him or brush your fingers against his You had asked for your bed to be placed right next to a window, and every time he visited, you were in the same position. Staring out the window longingly, gazing down at the city.
And there was nothing Zandik could do. There were no words he could say, no amount of comfort he could provide that would somehow make things better. No, the only thing he could do was solve the issue itself. He was best at that anyway, the scholar and researcher in him paying off. The Akademiya’s libraries were overtaken by him, day and night. No medical text went unread by him. He looked for answers during class lectures. During meals, during the early hours of the morning, and depths of the night. He looked and looked and looked without rest.
But one day, Zandik realized that perhaps he hadn’t taken things seriously enough.
He arrived at your hospital room like any other day, only to see a few nurses crowded around you, fussing and worrying to each other until they saw him, visibly stiffening. It was then his eyes flicked down to your body, which looked… oddly lifeless and unmoving. His brain figured out what this meant before his heart did. One already knew what happened while the other didn’t want to accept it.
“Err…” The nurse fiddled with her clipboard, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, especially to one such as Zandik, “As of today, [Name] has fallen into a coma…” He couldn’t pay attention to the rest of her words. 
The whole world went silent to him at that moment. Everything around him did, as he could only focus on your figure.
“With the sparrow now asleep with no signs of waking up, the raven uncharacteristically found himself at a loss.”
Zandik decided it was time to occupy himself with other activities. Like the hospital in the desert he worked at, treating, or rather experimenting on the patients there. It was for a number of reasons. Staying in the empty dorm room without you bothering him every couple of minutes was beginning to drive him more than just mad. Going to the hospital to be greeted by your sleeping body provided nothing but a flurry of negative emotions in him. To curve his growing curiosity and thirst for knowledge. And although Eleazar wasn’t what you were afflicted with, perhaps studying it could provide some insight. 
It was entirely morbid, cruel, and unethical, whatever word one wanted to say would probably fit the bill. Using corpses as material for “medicine”, driving his last remaining patient mad. Yet there was no part of him that felt guilty. That felt bothered. In the end, all he could think about was how satisfying the results of this experiment were. He cured Eleazar. Perhaps he could cure your illness too. Zandik was, in fact, excited.
Zandik continued to visit you every single day to check on you. It wasn’t like the staff cared much at this point. It was then he started keeping dedicated notes on your condition. He wasn’t much of a doctor nor was he experienced in the medical field, but the Akademiya’s library had proven to be more useful than he thought.
He took your vitals. Your heart rate. Temperature. Everything. Everyday. This time he injected you with what he hoped would cure and wake you up. Nothing. There was zero reaction internally and externally. It was a failure. It was frustrating.
Zandik, as a child, was used to being rejected. He never got what he wanted. Which was why as an adult, he made sure he acquired everything he wanted. Regardless of what, why, or how, nothing would stop him. And now that he was hitting that same block again, no matter how hard he tried, he was starting to seriously get irritated. Not at you, but at himself. This happened before, but this time there was also the fact he didn’t have your inquisitive mind or soothing presence to make him feel better.
Not to mention there was also Sohreh. Initially, he managed to tolerate her thanks to your coaching, but now that he had so many things to deal it, he found it harder and harder to deal with the Amurta. She was also the only one who had the decency to send condolences for your current situation, though he brushed her off before she could even get the words out. Yet by some annoying twist of fate, the girl kept popping up randomly around him, whether that was expeditions or group projects together.
When Zandik found his hands around her neck, he wasn’t surprised at himself. He didn’t feel anything at all, actually. On the same day, he went to visit your sleeping body and traced your veins with the same hands that killed your classmate. He wondered if you would feel any different to him if you knew what he’d done. If you would perhaps leave him. From how deeply you were sleeping, it seemed like he would never receive that answer though.
The days that followed were nothing noteworthy unless Zandik’s further spiral into madness and experimentation for both your sake and his innate desire were to be described in-depthly. Soon enough, he was banished from the Akademiya and into the desert. Despite his dislike for that place, it was a hindrance as he still needed somewhere to conduct research… and your body was still in a Sumerian hospital. But no matter, he’d make do.
It was then he met a gray-haired Khaenri’ahn man who offered him something that was too good to pass up and bestowed a name upon him.
Doctor? He was obviously no doctor. At least not one that helps people. Quite the opposite. If you were here, surely you would be laughing and cackling along with him at the irony of that name. But Zandik liked the ring of it.
And so Il Dottore was born. He just wished you were here to see it.
“Many, many centuries went by, and the raven progressed with his research in all areas and became akin to a God himself. However, his sparrow remained in a deep sleep and he could only watch as he failed to help his slumbering beloved.”
Dottore was now a man of many feats. To list them all would take a large amount of time, and the only person who would be willing to sit and listen was you. And you kind of did in a way, because for centuries, your sleeping body would be the first one to know about anything. Dottore would tell you of his accomplishments, his failures and successes, his useless co-workers, and how no one could ever compare to the assistant you were to him. And how despite the fact there was no doubt that his research and progress were entirely fulfilling, there was still a distinct emptiness and boredom in his life that only a certain someone could satisfy.
He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The same conversation was exchanged between him and a segment every day:
“Are there any updates on [Name]’s condition?”
“No, nothing to report, Prime.”
The segments too would bemoan about the situation and wonder when you would wake up. Yet there was nothing that could be done. Countless resources and time had been exhausted on you, yet he had nothing to show for it. The only solution was to wait for you to open your eyes on your own, however long that may take. Dottore would undoubtedly wait though, what was a few more centuries, after all?
“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”
Nahida rubbed her eyes and stretched out her body. To think that was only the beginning part of the fairytale! It was truly a long tale, yes, the one of Zandik and [Name]. Yet every part of it was intriguing and left her on the edge of her seat. And what better storytelling was it than to leave it on a cliffhanger?
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miss-bridget · 3 months
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Gender Gap. Part 3
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With the ‘boss’ slumped over his desk, virgin ass almost worn out. I took the chance to open the party up to some close girlfriends. I sent an email from the pig’s laptop telling the front desk that some guests would be heading upstairs. The one advantage of this asshole being a hateful prick, is that nobody questioned him. Certainly, having late visits from women dressed in leather wasn’t that unusual and therefore, it made my life so much easier.
I got a message from one of my girls saying that they were getting in the elevator…..and sure enough, a few minutes later, they were standing at the doorway of his office. The four of them were dressed like leather sluts, but all were experienced Dommes and I learned a lot from them. On the far left, Miss Jessica stood, smirking at me. She was the leader of the pack, and the most viscous. My sister, Miss Teresa was on the far right….like me, she was the tallest of the group and probably the softest in nature. Next to her was Miss Eve, her Latino temperament was fiery as fuck and she really hated guys with a passion. She was the sissification expert and often carried a range of chastity toys….never wasting an opportunity to lock the cock. Finally, next to Miss Jessica, was Miss Kara. She was the youngest and the most enthusiastic. She was strong as an ox and had no problem overpowering her prey.
With all five of us in residence, our boy was going to beg like never before. His cock was subjected to plenty of abuse, ruined orgasms, knife play and his ass? Even I wondered if he should take any more punishment. Miss Jessica was busy thrusting the fuck out of him as I walked around and grabbed his chin and saw the glazed, exhausted look on his face. His mascara had streaked down his face and I almost pitied the poor fucker…
“I did tell you I was very good, didn’t I? You should be honoured that my girls wanted to join in. They all bring a unique perspective to our occupation….and you’ll pay for the privilege, won’t you, baby?”
He nodded and feebly tried to beg. I spat in his face and brought my sister over. Her strapon was easily the thickest of the lot and his ball gag was removed….the drool spilled onto his desk and before he could speak, the cock went in his mouth. We were having a good old fashioned spit roast. Miss Eve took over the ass fucking and Miss Kara held him firm as he took more abuse. I turned his ass cheeks into burger meat as he looked like he was going to pass out. I held my hands up to the girls and we stopped, punishing was one thing, causing serious injury was another. Unlike this abusive cunt, we knew the limits of our cruelty.
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While he recovered his strength, we decided to leave and enjoy the rest of the weekend, satisfied that this bastard had been given a taste of some justice. You see, we knew that he routinely abused the girls he paid to have in his office. His reputation for paying big money often clouded the judgement of the younger girls who were desperate to live, pay rent, go through school. He knew that and took full advantage of them…..so now it was payback.
The footage we had would be edited to maximise his humiliation and with his money now cleared, we had plenty to distribute to those he had hurt. We didn’t take everything of course, we left our toy all secure and safe in his office.
Leashed, penis gagged, hooded and dressed like a whore, he would be found by security and we would be like ghosts….cctv wouldn’t be able to catch us and because he wanted to keep his proclivities secret, my identity was never known. It was possible that he would bear the marks of his punishments for the rest of his days, but he was now ruined in every way.
We weren’t exactly Robin Hood and the bond of merry men, but even the cruelest bitches can have a heart at times….
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sunshinevanfleet · 1 year
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karma - j. kiszka
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pairing: jake x reader
a/n: hello! i'm gifting you all some enemies to lovers jake smut <3. i worked really hard on this one so i hope it's okay. this one is college!au jake. it's not edited so pls forgive me for any silly mistakes. also if you're sensitive to bullying (not really but? if you squint) then pls don't read. ok love u all!!!
genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), enemies to lovers
word count: 4.6k
summary: the reader is locked out of her dorm room late at night, with no way inside. her only escape is the man she can't stand, jake kiszka.
warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, explicit sex scenes, etc.
Karma sure was a bitch. 
Sitting in the hallway floor of your dorm building, well past 2 AM on a Wednesday morning, you were beginning to wonder what you did to deserve this. Soaking wet from the rain, missing a shoe, and locked out of your dorm room, you were pleading with every force in the universe for your roommate to somehow miraculously return early from Spring Break to let you into the room. Your phone and keys were locked in the bar that you and your friends left hours before, and you were effectively locked out until you could get in touch with the housing office in the morning. What a wonderful time to be alive. 
You debated it in your head; maybe it was the time you laughed at your roommate for falling down the stairs. Or when you refused to give your brother twenty dollars for gas money. Most prominent in your thoughts, though, was when you’d become fed up with your neighbor and hammered on his door to scream at him over the endless noise he made day-in and day-out. Maybe if you had a smidge more patience, you would be able to knock on his door and at least ask for a towel, considering he was the only other person on your floor that stayed at school for break. 
A heavy sigh departed your lips as you shifted, leaning your head back against the wall. You closed your eyes, though it did little against the fluorescents in the hallway. A headache pulsed dully at your temples, your mouth dry and your limbs starting to ache after the long walk back to campus. Sitting here, abandoned and helpless was its own unique form of torture. You knew your out. The door beside yours stood there, the thin wood taunting you in its frame. The man behind it, Jake Kiszka, was your natural enemy. The complete and utter bane of your existence. It wasn’t only that he was a pest of a neighbor– fucking and shouting and playing music at all odd hours– he was also argumentative, arrogant, and an absolute fuckboy.
Even before you’d marched to his door and practically beat a hole in it, his reputation preceded him. The amount of girls in your lectures you heard whispering about him was unbelievable. He was the campus heartbreaker. True that he was fantastically attractive, and a talented musician. But from what you heard, and experienced… he was a complete asshole. You’d had your share of questionable interactions with him, and wanted absolutely nothing at all to do with Jake Kiszka. 
The last hour sitting in the hallway gave you plenty of time to think over your situation. It was hard to believe that you weren’t getting your divine retribution. Your only escape from sitting in this misery for the next six hours was the guy you absolutely despised. As you sobered up, you understood clearly that you were being bullheaded. Bratty. Stubborn. Wouldn’t it be worse to have to grovel at Jake’s feet?
As you were weighing your options, the sound of footsteps jostled you from your thoughts. You peeled your eyes open, blinking at the brightness as they adjusted. Standing before you was exactly the person you didn’t want to see. Jake peered at you, lifting an eyebrow as he examined your disheveled frame crumpled on the floor. 
“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding halfway concerned. 
You laughed humorlessly, running a hand over your face. You refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing in on his booted feet. You were sure you were being punished now. This was no coincidence that you were literally at his feet, having to ask for help.
“I’m locked out,” you muttered, voice bitter. “Left my fucking phone and keys at some shitty bar. What are you doing?” 
The challenge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. The corner of his mouth quirked up, a flash of amusement flickering behind his dark eyes. He took a step back, leaning against the wall across from you. His arms flexed as he crossed them over his chest, muscles stretching beneath the skin. You tore your eyes away. 
“It’s spring break,” he said, as if that explained it all.
“Hmmm,” you said, nodding. “Off fucking some sorority sister, then?”
Antagonizing him was the last thing you should be doing right now. You were actively aware of that, and didn’t care. A dark chuckle left his lips. 
“What’s it to you?”
You shrugged. “Just glad it was in someone else’s room, this time,” you conceded. “Would’ve been a good night for me to get some sleep.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. Jake maintained his cool facade, seeming unbothered by your digs. 
“Well,” he sighed, “not that it’s any of your business, but I took a day trip to see my family.”
You swallowed hard. You almost felt a little bad for assuming he was off ruining another girl’s life. You huffed, wringing your hands in your lap. His eyes bore into you, dark irises still flashing amusement as he stared at your pitiful form on the ground. He was pleased, as you knew he would be. He expected the universe to repay you this retribution, and here he was to witness it all. 
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” You broke the silence, skin crawling with discomfort.
“Why do you hate me so much?” he wondered. A rage-inducing smirk spread over his lips. You gave him a dark look.
“You really don’t know?” A frown settled on your features. It wasn’t entirely the fact that he was the campus playboy, nor that he was obnoxiously loud with his nighttime escapades, but also that he had humiliated you in front of a dozen people. It was a touchy subject, and there were very few people you brought it up with. Of course, he didn’t remember it as vividly as you did. He was popular, well-liked, and not interested in the likes of you. 
“No, Y/N, I don’t,” he said. He sounded truthful, and that made things worse.
You laughed, the hollow, bitter noise echoing through the empty hall. “You made a fucking joke out of me last year, Jake,” you said darkly. “Back at that stupid fucking frat party.”
“You do realize how many frat parties I’ve been to, right? You’re gonna have to be more specific…”
“That Lambda Omega Phi Halloween party,” you muttered, face flushing at the memory. “I don’t know why I even went in the first place. Somehow, Maddie convinced me, and look at me now…” 
He frowned, looking seriously confused. “I still don’t follow,” he said. 
You forced your gaze up to meet his eyes, shaking your head. You’d cried over the humiliation before, but now there were no more tears. Only anger. You knew he could be an asshole, but you had never expected him to do anything to you of all people. You always kept to yourself, minding your own business. 
“It was late,” you began, “pretty much everyone had gone home. There were maybe ten or fifteen of us left. Someone suggested we spin the bottle. Make it a sort of spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven situation. I was uncomfortable to begin with… Imagine how I felt when you looked at me for a second, and laughed. You said, ‘We can’t invite this one to seven minutes in heaven. Little birdie told me she’s still a virgin.’ Everyone laughed.”
“Y/N–”
“I don’t want to hear your excuse, Jake,” you said, cheeks burning. “You asked me why I hate you, that’s why. And after you said that about me, in front of all of those people, I have to come home and be your neighbor. I wish you knew how that felt.”
He stared at the ground, shaking his head. When he looked back up, the amusement in his eyes was gone. His lips were set in a flat line, expression almost remorseful.
“I was drunk, Y/N, really,” he said, his voice soft. “That was wrong of me to say. Really, I feel like a piece of shit. I only remember bits and pieces.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“I know… I can’t say anything to make things better. I will say that I’m sorry, and I mean that.” 
“Okay,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Talking about it made it more real in your memory. It made things come flashing back: the sound of the laughter around you, the teasing smile on Jake’s lips, your stomach dropping as you realized you were once again the butt of someone’s joke. Once you graduated high school, you thought you were completely done with bullies, but you’d learned the truth that night. You would never be able to escape being teased for your timidity. 
“Really, Y/N–” he was almost pleading, his voice much lighter and softer. Strained, as if he were in pain.
“Enough,” you said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No,” he argued, “it’s not fair. That I treated you that way. Maybe I had a reason, though…”
You glanced up at him, your brows furrowed together. What reason could he possibly have for embarrassing you like that? You’d rushed out of the party, tears pouring down your cheeks, mortified. There was no reason to justify that. 
“I hope it was a really fucking good reason, Jake,” you hissed.
He laughed sheepishly, brushing his hair back off of his face with one hand. “It wasn’t, still isn’t,” he sighed. He refused to meet your gaze, instead staring down the empty hall. “I just– I’d seen you around campus, sat a few rows behind you in Intro to Anthropology, hell, I’d heard you talking or laughing through the dorm wall, and I… I liked you, Y/N. A lot…”
Your eyes widened as he spoke, confusion jumbling your thoughts. Embarrassment bloomed further throughout your body. You practically gaped as he continued, pouring his heart out to you.
“You’re so clever, and you always shared interesting opinions and offered perspectives I hadn’t considered in class… I saw you at that party, and you looked beautiful– hell, beautiful doesn’t even describe you. You were like… some kind of art, just walking around casually. I saw other guys looking at you, noticed them getting excited… What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want any of them to have their chance with you in spin the bottle…”
“You could have just told me,” you said, breathless.
“I realize that, now,” he continued, “but I was drunk. I was jealous. So I did something stupid, and believe me when I tell you I regret it. So much.”
“Even after I tried to break your door down?” you laughed, unable to process the information he was telling you. He liked you? It was surprising enough that he didn’t hate your guts back, but to actually like you? Romantically? He was dropping bombs on you tonight.
He grinned, “Even more,” he admitted. “All those girls I brought home… None of them were anything compared to you… I’m not proud to say that I pictured you more often than not… writhing underneath me, your perfect little blushing face.” He flushed at the very thought, pressing his lips together.
Your heart threatened to burst from your ribcage, beating rapidly. No one ever spoke to you this way. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, the tops of your ears, and you tried to hide the satisfied little smile on your lips. The situation unfolding around you was surreal. None of your friends were going to believe this when you recounted it to them in the morning.
You didn’t know what to say, so your mind settled on one burning question.
“You really think I’m a virgin?”
He blinked at you, taken aback. For a few beats, the two of you were silent. Then, he finally stuttered out a reply, “W–well, maybe. I don’t know. I just said it to keep those guys away from you.”
A real laugh broke the quiet in the hall this time, and you smiled. The reality had yet to fully wash over you; Jake Kiszka liked you? Of all people. That was something… You shook your head, taking a deep breath.
“Well, I guess I won’t spoil the surprise,” you said, voice teasing as you shrugged. “Too bad I’m stuck out in this hallway,” you continued, “I’m sure you really would like to get to know me…”
Your eyes flicked up to him, a tiny smirk playing on your lips. He rolled his eyes, scoffing as he stepped past you to unlock the door to his dorm room. 
“If you wanted to come in, all you had to do was ask,” he said, trying halfheartedly to sound annoyed at you. A satisfied chuckle left your lips, and you stepped inside at his gesture.
“Why would I do that?”
“What? Ask for what you want?”
You nodded.
He smiled innocently. “That’s what good girls do, Y/N.”
You were relieved that your back was facing him. The flustered look on your face would have thrown your game completely off had he seen it. 
“Good girls, hm?” you mused, peeling off your damp jacket and tossing it on his desk chair. He flicked on the lamp in the corner of the room, illuminating you in a faint amber glow. His eyes sparkled in the light, watching your movements. 
He said nothing, observing you. You glanced around the room, admiring the messiness of the room. There were clothes scattered around, books laid haphazardly on the floor, posters pasted crooked on the wall. Your roommate would never allow your room to look like this. Something about the clutter made it cozier; it just made sense that his room would look this way.
“So this is where you bring all those good girls, huh?” You looked at him expectantly.
He lifted a hand up, scratching at the nape of his neck. He shifted beneath your inquiring gaze, then took a step forward to drop his keys on the desk behind you. You stared up at him, though the glint of his belt buckle at eye-level was rather enticing, you wouldn’t give in so easily.
“You know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, slowly coming to lift your chin. “You look really fucking good from this angle.”
Your tongue darted out to moisten your lips. You tilted your head to the side innocently, fluttering your lashes at him. “You think so?” One of your hands trailed up the inside of his leg, tracing over the denim of his jeans lightly. He shivered slightly beneath your touch, his gaze latched onto yours with an intensity you’d never seen from him before. 
“Mmm,” he grunted his approval, then breathed out a few more words, “but I could think of a thing or two that’d make this angle even better…”
“And what would that be?” you teased, fingers inching closer to the bulge straining against his pants. He groaned as you traced the outline with a single finger, barely ghosting over it. 
He chuckled, shaking his head at your antics. “God, you’re a fucking tease.”
“Would you rather a tease or a virgin?” you wondered aloud, still fucking with him. Your hand finally palmed his bulge completely, eliciting a lewd sound from deep within his throat. Your eyes widened, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of making him whimper and writhe at the faintest touches.
“Fuck,” he grunted as you fiddled with his belt buckle. “What kind of question is that?”
You breathed an amused breath through your nose, shrugging, “Just a question.” A devilish smile danced on your lips. You peeled down the waistband of his jeans and boxers, eyes still on his even as his cock sprang free. His breathing deepened as you wrapped a fist around the base, stroking it with a light touch.
“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”
“Probably not,” you replied. “You might be able to make it up to me, though…”
Without waiting for his reply, you took the head of his cock between your lips. You let your jaw go lax, your tongue doing all of the work as you took him deeper into your mouth. His fingers pressed into the skin of your neck as he guided your chin over his cock. Jake’s mouth hung agape, eyes almost blank as he watched you suck him off.
A shaky breath stole from his mouth, “Ah, god, you’re fucking good at that…” His irises darkened considerably, going from deep amber to nearly black as lust shrouded his gaze. His lips glistened with spit, mouth open as he tried to steady his breathing. A few grunts and choked moans broke the quiet in the room, accompanied by the slick sounds of your mouth on him.
You pushed yourself further down to the base of his cock, your nose nearly brushing his pubic hair as you took him into your throat. He pulsated inside of your mouth, something like a whine tearing from his throat as you gazed up at him through wet lashes. His other hand tangled into your hair, both of them now guiding you as he gently rocked his hips into your mouth. You bobbed your head in time with his rhythm, relishing in the musical sounds of pleasure coming out of him. As the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat, you tightened the muscles around him. He growled, the sound sending shivers straight to your center. 
You took him deeper, your throat squeezing around the head. He sucked in a sharp breath, and you hummed around him. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, saliva dripped over your chin, but you didn’t care. The look on his face was intoxicating; his eyes clamped shut, mouth hanging open in an expression that almost made him look pained. 
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna–”
You pushed even further, gagging around him as your nose finally brushed his skin. He gasped, the hand in your hair tightening as he pulled you away unexpectedly. A string of saliva followed your mouth before dripping down your neck. Your chest heaved as you panted, the air cooling the mess on your chin as you stared up at him.
“Made a mess of that pretty little face,” Jake whispered, thumb dragging through the slick on your mouth before dipping in between your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digit, bleary-eyed and lightheaded. His cock jumped in your hand, a sigh escaping his lips at the feeling of you slowly pumping him. 
“Mmmm,” you hummed around his finger, bobbing as if you were still sucking him off. He watched you for a moment, transfixed by the filthy sight of you below him. Mascara smeared beneath your eyes, spit glistening on your swollen lips, your cheeks flushed. 
“Pretty girl,” he mumbled, “wanna see how pretty you look riding me… C’mon…”
You stood, legs shaky already. He lifted your shirt over your head without hesitation, fingers expertly unhooking the back of your bra. You shivered, exposed to the cool air and his salacious gaze. His eyes drank in your figure for a second. They dragged over your messy face, down your clavicle, and to your exposed chest. He wasted no time in leading you to his bed, your back pressing into the sheets. His lips enclosed around one nipple, fingers tweaking the other as you arched up into his touch, sighing. 
His thigh notched itself between your legs, the denim rubbing deliciously against your needy core through the thin layer of your shorts. You rocked against him, desperate for any contact. He smirked against your chest at this, breaking contact for a second. “Needy angel, aren’t we?” 
“Please–” you breathed. You bit down on your bottom lip, watching the way he sucked and nipped at the skin of your chest, leaving dark marks on the skin. The throbbing in your center was becoming unbearable, the friction from his leg not enough to satisfy the desperation spreading through your veins. You needed him, now.
“Please what, angel?” He looked up at you, deep brown eyes through a shade of lashes, and your heart fluttered. You had to close your eyes, holding back the moan that threatened to spill from you just at the sight of him. His lips were a swollen, sanguine shade of red from the friction, shining with saliva. His eyes shone dark brown, honeyed like molasses. Damp pooled between your thighs, gluing the fabric of your panties to your soaked core. 
You swallowed hard, and managed to gather your bearings. “Please, I need to feel you…”
A genuine smile found its way to his face at this, the cocky look playing in his eyes making you want him even more. If you were in your right mind, you would have scolded yourself for letting him charm you. But it was so easy to fall for Jake Kiszka, especially when he was perched between your legs, looking so eager to please.
“Okay,” he muttered. He leaned over you, lips finding yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, his breath sweet and addicting as your lips moved together. “Feel me, then, angel. Take what you need…” His breath fanned against your lips, and the two of you switched places. You took a second to peel off your shorts and panties as he quickly undressed.
He watched through hooded eyes as you straddled him. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal already, glistening tantalizingly over your skin. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as you pivoted your hips over him, slicking his cock in your juices.
“Don’t be too long,” he whispered. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine; it was as if he were watching his very life-force, the need in his eyes burned hot behind those irises. 
A deep breath fanned out of your nose as you finally sank down onto him. You threw your head back, a piercing moan came from you as he filled you to the brim. Tears pricked your eyes at the stretch. 
“Jake,” was all you could manage as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you. 
“Take it, angel,” he said, voice deep and saccharine, “Go on, take what you need.”
You balanced one hand on his thigh as you began to grind against him. Your other hand gathered your hair into one hand, cooling the burning around your neck and chest. He dragged against your walls, the feeling sending sparks all through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut as your clit bumped against his pubic bone. Jolts of pleasure shot through you.
He breathed hard, one hand splayed over your thigh while the other rested behind his head. Low pants and moans spilled from his lips. That attentive gaze drank you in, every little detail carved out of soft flesh and muscle. You saw the way he admired you, and wondered how you didn’t notice it before. 
Shifting positions, you lifted yourself up to bounce on him, and he breathed a small whimper. You smiled, leaning over him as you began to lower yourself once again. You maintained a steady pace, fingers hooking through the necklace hanging around his neck to pull his lips up to yours. You panted, sharing breaths for a second before you connected your lips. Bracing yourself against his chest, you increased your pace until you were making your own head spin. He was hitting all of the right spots, stars blooming in your vision as you hastily approached orgasm. 
The muscles of his abdomen trembled beneath you, and he groaned as you pulled away from the kiss to breath. “God, fuck, Y/N.”
You smiled, chest heaving with every breath. “I’m almost there,” you whispered, using every bit of self-control not to cry out his name over and over again.
“Shit,” he hissed, as you swirled your hips at a different angle. “I am, too. Let go, for me, yeah?”
You nodded your agreement, fingers pressing into his chest as you lifted up. The room filled with breathless moans and the sound of skin slapping together. You brought your other hand down to your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves as you hurdled towards your orgasm. Your mouth fell agape, pornographic noises ripping through the room around you. Your thighs shook and ached as you rode him through your release, milking every ounce of pleasure out of the man beneath you. He cried out your name in his velvety tone, his body tensing as he reached his own orgasm.
His fingers dug into your thighs as he held you in place, eyes locked onto yours as his release coated your insides. 
“Don’t stop,” he muttered, hips jerking into yours as you continued your pace. The muscles in your legs tightened, though the pleasure pulsing through your body shadowed the pain. 
“Jake, I can’t—” you mewled, body weakened from your orgasm.
“You can, angel, I know you can…” he whispered, leaning up to grasp your face in one hand. “Keep going…”
“It’s too much–”
“One more, Y/N. Just give me one more.” He pressed his lips against your throat, biting softly against the skin. His fingers dipped between your bodies, rubbing your clit fervently. Your entire body seized, hands holding onto him for dear life. “Come on, baby…”
You cried out his name, moisture pricking your eyes as you rocked against his hand. He was softening inside of you, your walls clenching around him as he coaxed you through your second orgasm. Burying your face into his neck, you whined at the feeling. 
“Almost there, baby, I know you can do it,” he cooed, lips ghosting over your jaw, up your hairline, onto your forehead. “Oh, you’re so good for me…”
He made a pleased noise as your release washed over you again, black spots clouding your vision. The sounds coming from you were animalistic, and unrelenting as you sobbed against him. He pressed gentle kisses against your temple and forehead, easing you through the overwhelming pleasure. Your body finally stilled, body going lax against him as you struggled to catch your breath.
“I knew you would be a good girl for me,” he said. He brushed the hair off of your face and neck, gently separating the two of you and laying you down on the bed. You sprawled over the sheets, the air cooling the mess between your legs as you lay there trying to slow your heart rate. 
“That was…”
“Mind blowing,” Jake finished for you, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling away and standing up. He pulled his jeans back on, rummaging around in the room as you laid an arm over your eyes. You let your body relax, muscles aching from the effort of riding him. 
After a second, you hissed at a cold feeling between your legs. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, watching as Jake wiped the mess from between your legs.
“Sorry,” he muttered, “didn’t wanna run down to the bathroom…”
“It’s okay,” you relaxed back into the bed again. It was a tad amusing that he kept a pack of wet wipes in his room, but you said nothing. You were too exhausted. 
He tossed the soiled wipe into the trash bin by the desk, then flicked the light off. He passed you a t-shirt that smelled like him, and you pulled it over your head. His bed was more comfortable than your own at this point, your mind drifting away already after only a few seconds. 
“You all right?” he asked, concern coloring his voice as he settled into bed beside you. You threw one arm over his abdomen, slipping closer to him in the darkness.
“Mhmm,” you replied.
“All right sleepyhead,” he mumbled. He pressed his lips against your temple softly. “I’ll take you to get your shit from the bar tomorrow.”
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curufiin · 1 month
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Hear Me Out.
So we all know Jirt has a vendetta against me I headcanon Curufin as being a very meticulous gift giver. He likes to give meaningful gifts, something someone may not expect or even appreciate in the moment, but years down the line they fully realize just how much thought he’s put into said gift. While this makes Curvo a favorite for receiving gifts from, this also means he has several weeks a year dedicated to agonizing over what kind of gift he should give. He can’t do the same thing twice. It has to be unique, it has to be thoughtful, and the birthday person needs to LOVE IT OR ELSE.
Well, Maglor’s birthday happens to be coming up.
Curufin, of course, knows that everybody and their dog is going to give Maglor either instruments, or something related to music. And of course, why not? He’s not Macalaurë for no reason. But this gets heavily in the way of new gifts. He can’t just make a new harp and call it a day, and he’s also made replacement strings for Maglor’s instruments already. He’s no good at composing, jewelry seems too impersonal, and he’s just realized that he really doesn’t know what Maglor actually likes.
Thus, Curufin starts freaking out.
Like hell he’s going to tell his brother, “hey. I don’t actually know what you like that isn’t music. Please tell me what to get you.” That would be like public humiliation. Instead, he continues to freak out for the next two days, until he gets an idea— an extremely stupid idea, but it’s the only one he has, so he gets to work. It combines his love for metals with Maglor’s love for music, gingerly set in an intricately carved wooden box. The song is just as carefully chosen: not a song that Maglor has composed, but the one which inspired him to pick up composing in the first place.
And as he makes sure the wind up mechanism works propery, he admires his creation: music in a box. Curufin can’t say he’s entirely happy with it, or that he’s even sure Maglor would like it beyond a need to be polite, but he has a reputation to keep up.
Thankfully, the birthday passes as soon as it arrived, and Maglor seemed pleased (and possibly even entranced) by the music that he had stuffed in a box. Curufin benefits most from this, of course: he could just stamp down new songs, make bigger and grander boxes with longer combs for more notes, and bam, brand new birthday present.
TLDR: Curufin invented the music box because he was out of ideas for birthday gifts for Maglor.
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sunflowerabyss · 5 months
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Hi!! Omg i just discovered your stories and i LOVE them!! There's not enough fics about older remus, i love that you write for him🙌🏼 so i have a request: Could you write something with Older remus and younger reader who is Severus's little sister? (Like maybe Tonks age). Where they met at the Order but him and Sirius don't trust her at first because she dresses in all black (very typical witchy aesthetic, just like Severus) and has a serious resting face so she doesn't look very friendly... but then he realizes she's actually shy and sweet and bubbly.
Idk, that's the general idea i have, you'll have to see how to make them end up together🤭 Btw, if you don't like the idea don't worry! Just ignore it😁
Dances in the Dark
Pairings: Older!Remus Lupin x Fem!Younger!Reader
A/N: Awww, first off, thank you for your kind words! I love older Remus and feel like he doesn't get the recognition he deserves. I hope I lived up to your expectations, it was a fun write!
Warnings: Age gap (reader is 25), Fluff
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As Severus Snape's younger sister, you were a study in contrasts. At twenty-five, your age belied the depth of experience etched onto your features. Growing up in the shadow of your elder brother's reputation had forged you into a resilient and independent witch. The Snape bloodline ran thick with a unique blend of brilliance and tenacity, traits that manifested in both Severus and yourself.
Your magical abilities exceeded those of many your age, a fact that had earned you a place within the Order of the Phoenix. The decision to allow you to join the ranks was met with skepticism, especially from Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.
It was this very similarity that triggered distrust among some Order members. Remus and Sirius, in particular, eyed you warily, wary of potential deception or hidden agendas.
The first time Remus Lupin laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but draw parallels between your demeanor and that of your older brother. Dressed in all black, your attire mirrored Severus's signature aesthetic, and your serious resting face painted you in the same guarded hues. You exuded an aura of stern determination, an exterior that echoed the standoffish nature associated with the Snape name.
Sirius Black, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist making a snarky comment. As they stood in the corridor outside the meeting room, Sirius leaned in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Did you notice, Remus? Little Miss Snape over there is like a mini Snivellus. Same brooding aesthetic, same unimpressed face. Bet she's got a cauldron of bat spleens hidden in that black dress of hers."
Remus shot Sirius a disapproving glance, his eyes narrowing. "Sirius, she's here to help. Let's not jump to conclusions quite yet."
Sirius chuckled, undeterred by Remus's disapproval. "Right you are, Moony. But a Snape is a Snape, and you know how much I trust them."
Remus sighed, realizing that getting Sirius to see past his biases would be a battle of its own. Truth is though, Remus isn't sure if he can trust you either. Sure, Severus helped him brew Wolfsbane, but that was under Dumbledore's order. Remus still wouldn't trust him as far as he can throw him.
As the meeting progressed, Remus couldn't help but keep a watchful eye on you. The air thickened with tension, and the wariness in the room mirrored the doubt that clung to you.
He observed from a distance, noting the way you isolated yourself, much like Severus. Yet, amidst the stoicism, there were subtle moments that caught his attention--a fleeting smile, a quiet chuckle at a fellow member's joke. These small glimpses contradicted the Snape facade, hinting at a more complex persona beneath the surface.
After the meeting concluded, Remus decided to approach, determined to unravel the mystery behind your Severus-esque facade.
"Severus's sister, right?" Remus inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and caution. You met his gaze, and the intensity in your eyes surprised him. It was a gaze that held secrets, a silent challenge.
"Yes. Y/N," you replied, your tone measured.
"It's good to have you here with the Order."
"It's good to be with the Order."
Remus nodded, though uncertainty lingered. Over the following weeks, he observed you from a distance, noticing your tendency to retreat into the shadows, engrossed in books and spellwork.
Remus eventually found himself enchanted by the subtle charms of you. As you immersed yourself in the world of books, Remus couldn't help but notice the endearing quirks that made you all the more captivating. The gentle kick of your feet, an unconscious expression of joy, as you delved into the pages of a captivating novel added a playful touch to your serious demeanor. During spellwork, your movements were a graceful dance of magic, revealing a finesse and dedication that spoke volumes about your skill. In moments of solitude, Remus caught the soft chuckle you tried to stifle at the humor within the pages of a book or the unexpected outcome of a spell. The quiet library echoed with the delighted squeal that escaped your lips when you ventured into the realm of romance novels, a momentary lapse into unabashed joy. Your serious exterior slowly cracked, revealing a shy and sweet nature that few took the time to uncover.
Every night at Grimmauld Place was draped in an uneasy stillness, and the weight of the impending war pressed heavily on your shoulders. Unable to find sleep, you found refuge in the dimly lit library, the soft glow of candles flickering in tandem with the music streaming quietly through an old record player. Your fingers traced the edges of an old book as lyrics danced in your ears, a desperate attempt to find tranquility in the chaos.
Remus, too, roamed the halls restlessly, unable to succumb to the embrace of sleep. The subtle melody of muggle music drew him toward the library, and as he entered, he discovered you immersed in the world of both literature and music. The sight was enchanting--you, surrounded by the soft glow, lost in the rhythm of the night.
A gentle clearing of his throat alerted you to Remus's presence. Startled, you turned around, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. "Sorry if I woke you up," you apologized, the sincerity in your voice echoing in the quiet room.
Remus shook his head, a small smile forming. "No need to apologize. I was already awake. Mind if I join you?"
A nod of agreement passed between you, and Remus took a seat across from you. The awkward tension that had lingered in the air seemed to dissipate as he asked, "What keeps you up at this hour?"
You sighed, your eyes reflecting the weariness that clung to your soul. "Just trying to find some peace amidst the chaos, I guess."
Remus understood, a shared sentiment etched on his features. "I feel the same. The world outside these walls is anything but quiet."
The conversation flowed naturally as you both discussed the music, finding common ground in the tunes that resonated with you. The library transformed into a haven where the war seemed distant, if only for a moment. As one song faded into another, a daring thought crossed your mind.
"Would you like to dance?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.
Remus blinked in surprise, his expression softening. "Dance? Here?"
A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you stood, offering your hand. "Why not? Sometimes, we need a little escape, don't we?"
Remus hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, rising to his feet. The room became a canvas for an impromptu dance, the soft music wrapping around you like a protective cloak. In the quiet elegance of the moment, you spoke words that had lingered unspoken.
"I know my presence brings uncertainty, given Severus's reputation," you confessed, eyes searching Remus's for understanding.
He nodded, his movements mirroring yours in the dance. "It did, at first."
The admission hung in the air, but instead of casting a shadow, it became a bridge between you. Remus continued, "But I've come to see the person behind the name, the one who finds comfort in the quiet of the night, just like me."
In the midst of the war's cacophony, you and Remus found a moment of respite, a connection forged in the gentle sway of a library dance. As the mellow notes of the music enveloped the dimly lit library, you found yourself in a moment of quiet intimacy with Remus. The dance had woven a delicate connection between you, as Remus' arms encircled you, holding you close.
Feeling a surge of courage, you rested your head against Remus's chest, finding solace in the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat. It thudded beneath your ear, a rapid tempo that betrayed a subtle undercurrent of nerves. The music continued, its gentle melody seemingly synchronized with the quickened beats of Remus's heart. Remus tightened his embrace.
The library, with its flickering candles and ancient tomes, became a sanctuary where the chaos of war retreated, leaving only two hearts finding each other.
Unbeknownst to you both, Sirius stood in the shadows, a silent observer of the scene unfolding before him. His eyes, typically sharp and filled with mischief, softened as he witnessed the unspoken bond between Remus and Severus Snape's sister. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a rare moment of warmth and understanding. As he quietly retreated back to his room, he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Severus is gonna be so mad.
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sugaimhome · 1 year
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i don’t care - min yoongi - one shot
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genre : fantasy, smut, enemies to lovers 
pairing: min yoongi x reader
summary: he was the villain. you were the hero. yoongi will make you his.
warnings: sexual content, slight dom + sub thing, missionary, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, he slaps her like once but its not abusive, sex in a church tower, yoongi can’t not be rough (he has a breakdown over it) fantasy au. villain yoongi. starts yandere then changes. daechwita yoongi but not the one with long hair the one with the undercut.
words: 5k
A/N: not sure if i like this. not proof read. i tried to write yoongi as yandere the whole way through but i just have a soft spot for this man and couldn’t do it.
do not interact if you are a minor!
This whole villain thingy was a lot easier for Yoongi before you came along. He was doing so well, he'd killed half of his opponents, most of the good guys and was so close to getting what he had wanted. Now all his plans had been put aside. He no longer wanted the most power in the world, he wanted you. It was so wrong, he knew that, you were the hero and he was the villain, but he was the villain and he had to maintain his reputation of being twisted and corrupted. It was only natural, only what had to be done, he was going to risk everything for you.
You, however, had been completely oblivious to Yoongi's very obvious change of heart. Your goal was to keep your family and home safe; not to fall almost dramatically in love with your main rival. And you wouldn’t, you’d promised yourself that.
Nightfall seemed to come earlier tonight, families walked the streets using small candles to light their way, bright cat eyes shone in the dim flames. It was the village's annual celebration of their king, and you’d remained at the top of the church tower scouting for Yoongi because you were sure he wouldn’t pass on such a rare opportunity to ruin the joy and beauty of such a unique event. You watched each family pass, some of the children looking up and pointing at you through the dark night, you ducked behind the spire each time with a small smile on your face as you listened to their words. “It’s her Mama, the one who saves us!” 
Your heroism was about being a hero, of course, but you also liked the attention.
When you return from the cover of the spire, something has changed. The family had gone, you’d ensured they would be gone by the time you’d turned around, but they seemed to be the last. The village square, without their dim candle lights, had fallen into complete darkness. You smile, deciding that the newfound darkness and quiet meant everyone had returned home and, disappointingly, Yoongi had missed his chance. No chance for heroism tonight. You take one last look at the square before skidding down the side of the slanted roof, your feet playing the tiles like a piano. You stop at the edge, then dramatically step backwards off the side.
You often used the church spire as a lookout, and this move was completely natural to you. Grabbing the gutter, that squeaks under your weight, you catapult into the lantern, where they keep the bells, and freeze. He’s there, the scarred side of his face being lit by the full moon. He's looking at you, not with cruelty but with the same emotions he has when about to go on a mission.
“Did I miss the fun?” he asks, tilting his head mockingly. He's so close to you, he must have known that you would land exactly here at this moment. It unsettles you to know he's been here before, watching you in a place you thought was your own. A place you thought was to your advantage.
"It's only just begun" you sneer back, reaching down for the dagger tucked between your sock and your boot. It's not there. You panic, stepping back a bit before your legs hit the side of the church. The wall only reaches up to your knees and the sudden contact knocks you off balance. You flay your arms around like a bird in flight, apart from you're not a bird. You're falling, what a shit way to die. 
As your arms flap around, all the decisions Yoongi made seem to hit him all at once. He should let you fall. But he can't do that, so he reaches out and grabs you by the arm, your skin is cold, he feels the sudden urge to warm you up.
Your first thought when the hand touches your arm is that he's pushing you. Pushing you over the side of the church as a real villain would do. Yet, somehow you weren't falling, you were being pulled closer to him, your chests fall together and your breathing syncs as one. You should be moving away from him, away from the villain. But you don’t. 
Yoongi is surprised when you don't push away from him, he certainly thought it would be a harder task to make you his. Confidence fills his mind, power moves every muscle in his body. He places his hand on the back of your waist, ensuring that you don't move away from his chest. His other hand flings his dagger (it was your dagger until he stole it from your boot earlier, but he figured that wasn't the point here) off the side of the church. He thinks he can hear it clatter to the cobblestones below, but that would be impossible, they are as high as the clouds. Do the clouds hear the rain as it beats the fields below them?
When the dagger goes flying off the side of the church everything changes. You were two equals now, and with his arm around your waist you look up at him. It was a mistake, for the second your eyes meet yours he's kissing you, and there is no way that you can pull away from him now. His lips are oddly soft, his taste somewhere between strawberries and something more sour like lemons. It's pleasant and you move into his kiss further. One of his hands is in your hair, twisting your head to kiss you harder. It is at this point you know nothing will ever be the same again. You’re very aware that you shouldn’t be doing this right now. Or ever. Then you're moving backwards again, your legs are on the edge of the wall again now, but like a fool you’re so deep into the kiss you couldn’t imagine the possibility of him letting go of you, of pushing you. He pulls away from you and it dawns on you then how close you are to the side, how you have nothing to grab if you fall. 
“Yoongi?” You ask, as if you’ve been friends for years and he’s just pulling a silly prank. 
“Do you trust me?” he questions, his voice deep. He’s got a hold of your arms. There's something you've never seen behind his eyes… something oddly protective.
Watching you look at him with such wide eyed shock causes Yoongi to go slightly mad. A year ago he would have pushed you, he would have leant over the side of the little safety wall and watched you fall until all he could see was a red splatter of blood on the stones below the church. He would have picked up your body and placed it in the middle of the square for everyone to see that he had won. Now when he looked at you, he saw someone he would tear the world apart for, piece by piece. A light breeze blows between you, it picks up a strand of your hair, placing it in front of your eyes. Instinctively, he reaches up to tuck it back behind your ear. “Do you trust me?” he asks again, not embarrassed by the desperate tone to his voice.
At first you’re hesitant, do you trust him? It would be weird to say yes. Even weirder to actually admit it after all this time. But- “Yes” you breathe, letting the warmth of your breath touch the very closeness of his lips. 
“Even if I do this?” he whispers, pushing you back further against the knee high wall, you are hanging backwards a little over the wall now, the weight of his hands keeping you in place. Your heart beats in your ears like the sounding of war drums, you should be panicking. You nod your head. You trust him. He lets go of one of your hands, falling back further you can see the ground below you. So far away. You look back at Yoongi, his black hair flops in front of his face, covering half his scar and his eyes, it's a wonder he can even see. His eyes are near black and in them the reflection of a singular torch lighting up the square below glitters. It's like looking into a galaxy only made of one star.
“I trust you” you say again, trying to cover the fear in your voice. Your hand is shaking. Why you didn’t just push him away earlier you don’t know. You could have ended it there. You would have survived. He pulls you back up to his chest, you’re not breathing now, not breathing when he ball-room style swings you around so he's the one with his legs against the wall. You can’t comprehend that it wasn’t all a joke, that he really didn’t let go of you.
He’s looking at you as if you’re the centre to his gravity. “Push me” he says, broadening his chest as if to give you more space to push him with. “Push me off the side of the church”
It’s awful because you want to. You want to push him. You would have pushed him if he hadn't kissed you. In his eyes you can see the torment. The confusion plagues your face. “No,” you say, taking a step back from him.
“You’re the hero, I am the villain” he replies. Yoongi is hoping you won’t push him. He wants you, but only if you want him back. “This is your chance to win.”
“I don’t care” 
He pushes back from the wall, coming towards you like a lion stalking his prey. His eyes have more colour in them now, as if you just uncovered his soul or unearthed his heart. “You don’t care” he taunts, there's mockery in his voice, it reminds you of the evil Yoongi and you’re stepping back again. 
“I don’t care,” you repeat.
He’s in front of you now his hands seem to buzz to touch you. “Would you care if they saw you kissing me”
“No, I wouldn’t care” this was his consent as he leaned down to kiss you, it's different from the last kiss, it's less passionate, more testing of both his and your control.
“You wouldn’t care if they saw my hands on you?” he pauses the kiss to ask. You shake your head. He doesn’t touch you until he says “If they saw me do this?”  and untucks your shirt from your trousers. You continue to shake your head. “Or this?” as he raises one, cold, hand up your stomach, running his pinkie over the previously covered skin. “Or this?” as he grabs one of your boobs in his hand, squeezing it around like its dough. You want to melt, you can’t speak, you’re trying to shake your head but he’s kissing you again, your backs against a wall now, it's cold where his hand has lifted up the back of your top, you don't feel it, your body is on fire. You try to reach for the waistband of his trousers but he stops your hand mid way.  “No, I am leading this”
You want to complain, why should he get the right to touch you and you not him? You pout into the kiss - trying to convey to him that you weren't happy with the lack of power you had. 
He stops kissing you to say “If you said you trusted me” he’s peppering kisses along your neck and throat now. “Then let me do this my way.” Maybe it's the way he’s found your sweet spot, and is sucking it like a starving leach you nod in agreement. You realise that the almost painful kissing is more for him to leave his mark on you. That sends a pulse to your core. It disturbs you to know you want him to mark you, want people to know it was him. A little moan escapes your lips. Yoongi hums and it seems to go straight into your bloodstream. 
“Yoongi” you whisper, hoping to take his attention away from that area of your neck, you wanted him to do something different. You wanted him. “Please”
Yoongi doesn’t think you realise that you’re whining, moaning, pleading at him. It's cute. Yoongi liked the power he had established here, he liked being in control of you. He intended to torture you like this for hours, maybe even until the sun came up. Then he would take you here on the floor of the church, damn the gods, or on the roof where you always perched to watch for him. He would make this night so memorable you’d be bound to him, you’d never leave him or fight against him again. You’d be his.
He nips the skin of your neck one last time, you’re only distantly aware of a high pitched whine you let out. Tugging again at your shirt he grips either side of it at your waist, looking at you as he brings it up, ever so slowly, over the hills of your covered breasts. For a moment all you can see is the inside of your shirt, still warm where it had been touching your skin. Then your shirt is gone, you watch as Yoongi balls it up in his hands, and there's nothing you can do as he flings it over the side of the church. It falls through the air like a pebble through water, slowly twisting, raising a little then dropping further. When you turn to look at him again he has a dagger in his hand, you let out a breath of shock, suddenly very still. He had a dagger all along and didn’t get rid of it. You push yourself further against the wall. “Yoongi?” you ask, maybe you could talk some sense into him. Tears fill your eyes. What a humiliating way to die.
He pulls you towards him, one hand gripping the skin of your waist. You wait for the dagger to pierce your heart or to stab your side, but instead you feel the blade against your back. You stood against him, looking up into his eyes when it touched the band of your bra. The bandage-like strip meets the dagger with some resistance but after forcing the dagger up further you hear the material begin to rip. Trusting Yoongi with your life again you rest your head against his shoulder, giving him a better view of the cut he was making. You revel in the feeling of your breasts becoming less confined, letting out a little satisfied sigh. As the bra falls from you, the distant clatter of a dagger being thrown far away wakes you from your bliss. “I told you to trust me” he says, though you don’t read any upset in his voice.
“It’s difficult,” you reply. Your nipples pull tight in the cold wind, or maybe from the arousal. Yoongi wastes no time in attaching his warm lips to the skin of them. The contrast between the warmth of his mouth on one of your boobs and the cold of his hand against the other causes your knees to almost give out under you. “I want more” you whine, putting a hand in his hair and you’re sure you feel him smile against your nipple. 
“In a minute” he replies, breaking the contact with his mouth and you.
“Wanna suck you off” you try to convince him, but to no avail, he doesn’t change his attack on your body. 
“Not. Tonight” he exaggerates. For a moment you feel nothing but shock. Not only did that mean he didn’t care about his pleasure but also yours it seemed he had the intention of this happening more than once. You’re not sure you’ve ever been with someone like that before. 
In the distance you're vaguely aware of the sun beginning to rise over the crest of the hill. The crimson light it gives off hits the top of the church, casting its shadow across the square below you. Yoongi finishes peppering kisses along your stomach and for a moment you think that's it, you think he's going to leave you here, half naked and alone. He must see the fear in your eyes, he stands up, kissing you on the forehead. He leans against you, almost crushing you against the wall. His breath is on your ear, breathing heavy. “Are you ready for me”
You nod your head.
“Are you wet for me”
You nod your head. You’d been drenched from the moment he first kissed you. Feeling your heart pulsing in your pussy. 
Yoongi is very satisfied with your answers, helps you out of your loose pants, his eyes catching on the wetness left behind on your pants. Now you stood completely bare in front of him, slightly shivering in the cold of the air around you. A little black triangle of hair hid you from him. He was so hard he knew he wouldn’t last long with you. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time, he wants to be inside you. He chucks his jacket on the floor, his shirt following that. He would have kept them on but he didn’t want you to get cold. “Lie down.” he points towards his jacket and shirt. He, for a moment, thinks he sees tears in your eyes, but they are gone before he can think anymore of it. He’s aware of you sitting down on the cold floor as he pulls down his trousers, his cock jumps straight from them and slaps his stomach. Once his trousers are disregarded he turns back to you, who is staring wide eyed at him.
You can’t believe he denied you touching his cock. It looked so perfect, you could see the angry veins protruding from here. You gulp. You want him inside you so badly. You squeeze your legs together. He sees this and walks towards you, his dick so erect it hardly moves as he walks. Instead of telling you off for not lying down as he asked you, he says “is it too cold?” you shake your head.
Kneeling on the floor in front of you so your knees touch he mumbles “good.” Yoongi uses the palms of his hands to spread your legs apart, he can see you now, you’re glistening in the sunlight, your wetness practically dripping from you. He feels his dick twitch. After all those weeks of obsessing over this moment, he's now immensely worried. “lay back for me.” 
You do as you’re told, you’re also amazed at how quickly you handed over power to him. He kneels there for a moment just staring at your pussy. You close your legs with anxiety. “You’re beautiful” he reminds you and a blush runs to your cheeks. Using the palms of his hands he again opens your legs. Slowly climbing up your body, he kisses your stomach and mutters “so beautiful.” If it were anyone else you’d be mortified. But you’re not, you feel safe. He kisses up the valley of your breasts, on your neck where he’d left his mark earlier, then kisses you once on your chin. But you hardly feel that because all you can feel is his cock that has rested itself upon your thigh. You stop breathing, looking him directly in the eyes. 
Then he's moving forward, his dick pushes past your entrance. He sighs in relief but a tear slips from the corner of your eye. He’s so deep and so thick inside you it hurts. Yoongi apologises in your ear, a string of sorrys falling from his lips. “It’s okay” you say, running a hand through his hair, you don’t even know when you put it there. The light pain you felt dwindles away into pleasure. “You can move now” you hint, moving your hips a little, feeling him move about inside you. He's so warm.
He groans an “I can’t.” You tense.
“Why, are you okay?” panic laces your voice. A care for him fills your heart that you feel like you’ve been pressing back for ages. 
“Wanna fuck you” he whines, you feel his dick twitch, your pussy clenches in response. “So hard the outline of your body is dented into the floor of the church”
You clench around him. “But I don’t want to hurt you” You are surprised at his wanting to protect you. 
“I wanna be fucked” you reply, a newfound power in your voice. “I’ll be okay”
You, for a moment, wonder how weird this situation is. You’d had sex with people in the past but you knew those people, they knew your limits and you knew theirs. With Yoongi it was all new. “Please” you say. You wanted to find out everything about him, and it would start with knowing the unfiltered version of him right now.
He grabs your waist, kissing the lobe of your ear one last time before flipping you around. He kneels between your legs. “Raise your ass for me” 
You do as you’re instructed, arching your back on instinct. “What a good girl” he comments and your pussy clenches around the air at the compliment. He chuckles at you. Grabbing your waist again he uses it to anchor you as he, unlike last time, slowly inches into you. You shake with the intensity of the moment - how different he feels at this angle. A little whimper falls past his lips. You know he’s holding back. He’s still pushing into you when you push back against him, he fills you up to the hilt, you can feel his abdomen against your ass. Letting him take back the control he had claimed as his earlier, he begins to push back and forth. You can feel him inside of you, feel your heart, or maybe it was his, beat everytime he was fully inside of you. You don’t know what you did, maybe you pushed back a little or maybe you pulsed without realising it but suddenly Yoongi was going a lot faster. Your hair was falling down in front of your face as your head flops in ecstasy. It doesn’t surprise you that Yoongi pulls your hair from your face and uses it to stop you from moving forward every time he thrusts into you. He's so deep. The pain from your scalp is only secondary to the pleasure you feel, it makes the build up in your stomach heighten.
“Oh my gods” you mumble. Your hands are freezing cold against the stone floor, but you don’t care, the dick’s so good. Yoongi is so good. “Please” you beg him, you don’t know what you are begging him to do but whatever it is you hope he does it soon. There's a build up of such strong pleasure in your lower abdomen you think you might explode. Even Yoongi can feel this.
“Wait for me” he commands, and you try. You think of summer fields and children running about in the grass jumping like deer, you think of birds that fly really high only to drop, a swirling tornado. Then you pull yourself back to Yoongi. Back to his dick pounding into you so hard and deep, back to one of his hands in your hair, the other gripping your waist like a vice. Back to the cold, cold floor. Back to Yoongi, grunting, whining and moaning above you. You’ve no doubt you sound exactly the same. 
“Yoongi” you warn. You are so close, your toes are over the edge. He lets go of your waist, you think he is going to let go of you entirely just as you get so close, but he uses it to smack each of your arsecheeks. You whine in a shocking pleasure. The sound echoes around the tower, the sound of his balls hitting your clit probably echoes out around the village. You don’t care. Then both of his hands are on  your waist again and much to your disappointment, he slips his dick from you. You whine. 
“I want to look at you” there's a shuffling and then he's flipping you over again, you’re facing him now, your back on the floor. This man is really indecisive. “Hi” he says.
“Hi” you reply, but it's cut off with a moan as he enters you again. You don’t know why he had to fuck you from behind a minute ago - his fucking from missionary was pretty damn adequate. “Shit, shit, shit” you chant. “Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi” you say in time to his thrusts. 
“You’re so good for me” he says, diving for one of your nipples and playing with it between his teeth. There's so much pleasure you think you might explode, and there's not really much warning, and you can’t tell him because you can’t speak. But your cumming, hot and white lights seem to centre your vision, you can only see Yoongi amidst the roaring that is the tingling along every muscle in your body. You’re twitching and Yoongi’s fucking you through it to the point where its too much. “I told you to wait” he snarls, slapping each of your cheeks lightly, it's not to hurt you but rather to encourage you to move from that orgasm to the next one. 
“Too much” you pout, hoping he’ll slow down at least a little, but he doesn’t if anything he only speeds up. 
“We are doing it together this time” he explains, his voice wavers a little and you wonder how long exactly you have to catch up with him. You’re really sensitive but the overstimulation pain seems to dwindle away and the roaring that had quietened down begins to rebuild itself. His hips become less fluid, he's close, you’re close again. 
“I’m cumming” he mumbles, his face consorted, eyes squeezed shut. Despite this, he still manages to reach down and roll your clit between two fingers. He’s cumming and he pushes inside of you so far he’s touching a place in you that you didn’t know you had, you didn’t think you were going to cum, but with the head of his cock placed against that soft spot inside of you and his cum mixing with your wetness; you are. You’re both holding onto each other, your head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream. He collapses, his arms failing to hold up his weight. He falls on top of you, his cock falling soft inside your spasming pussy. “Gods” he sighs, rolling the two of you over so your back isn’t against the cold floor and you’re lying on top of him. Your breathing is still ragged and so is his. His cold fingers trace patterns on your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind him. You want to sleep, you're so tired. “Don’t sleep, love” he reminds you “you’ve got to get home, they’ll worry about you”
A tear falls down the side of your cheek, rolling onto his chest. “What about you?” you ask him. “Where will you go?”
“Back to my home” he replies, following the trace of your tear with his finger. Almost subconsciously you run your finger down the still red scar over his eye.
“You’re lucky you’ve still got an eye” you comment.
“I am, how would I see you without it” he grabs your wrist gently. “We need to go Y/N” 
“I don’t have any clothes.” you rest your head back on his chest, watching as his thumb runs circles on your interlinked hand. You wish it was a good enough excuse to stay. Though he only chuckles, helping you back up, only pausing to place an affectionate kiss on your nose. Still naked he helps you into your clothes. Your eyes widen in shock as he, whilst helping you into your trousers, your legs still shaky, uses his thumb to scoop up some of his cum running from your centre, and brings it to your mouth. The two of you taste incredibly good. You let out a little “mmh” as if you were trying a food. He laughs, pulling up your pants the rest of the way. 
He steps into his clothes, only putting his shirt on whilst you stand there, naked from the top half, not even trying to cover your shivering anymore. He wraps his green dyed jacket around you, zipping it up at the front. 
Yoongi’s jacket is his signature, it's his calling card. Your eyes are wide as he zips you into it, pulling out your long hair from the back of the jacket. It makes you remember that he’s the villain.
If anyone sees you in this, they’ll know what happened. 
“Yoongi, they’ll lock me up” you complain, grateful for the warmth of the jacket but not the symbol it stands for. 
“They’ll also lock you up if you walk through the streets half naked”
He has a fair point. 
“Just be quick, go through the back streets and if you see anyone, hide from them.” 
He was telling you things you already knew but you nodded anyway. “Okay”
“I’ll make a headstart on you” he swings around on his feet, making a beeline for the stairs, where he would disappear to you would not know.
“Can I come with you?” you ask. You know he’ll say no.
“Not at the moment but I’ll come back to you” there's hope and a promise in his eyes.
“How will I know that?” you ask him. You feel like crying again. 
“You have my jacket.” he walks towards the arch of the stairs, half his body hiding behind the pillar. You smile, nodding your head, though not fully convinced. He continues down the stairs but he stops, you can only see his head now. “You also have my heart.”
Yoongi sprints down the stairs, his ultimate mission complete, you were his he had marked every inch of your body, he had left his seed in side you. He was the winner. 
Then he’s gone, you’re alone in the tower, holding onto the too-long sleeves of his jacket shocked at his goodbye. Now, despite your tiredness, you had to make it home in the broad day-light without anyone seeing you. Sighing, you take off down the stone steps, the mark of your enemy on more than one part of your body, heart and soul.
as always, thank you for the support. 
2K notes · View notes
satorustyles · 11 months
Text
let me have my way with you (geto x reader smut)
18+ MDNI !
pairing: suguru geto x reader
warnings: reader witnesses geto consume a curse, slight blood, sex in bathtub, dirty talk, fingering
word count: 2,664
a/n: this is my first jjk smut so pls be kind lol there's def gonna be a lot more soon -bear
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You knew what Geto was.
In your four months of dating him, he had already warned you ahead, still fresh on your first week, that he wasn't your typical young man whom both women and men could easily love. He was… unique. You didn't think too much about it, thinking that Geto was maybe considering himself that he was someone who was hard to love, or perhaps he's had a bad reputation with love. And you were willing to see that side of him, whatever he was referring to.
But what you witnessed undoubtedly did not prepare you.
You found him in a back alley, clothes drenched with blood, and he held a dark circular object in his hand. You were just about to call for him when he suddenly brought the ball to his lips, opening his mouth wide and absorbing it in one swallow.
You remained frozen in your place, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the panic and confusion slowly built up inside you. "S-Suguru…"
The alley was cold. His eyes were colder. He walked towards you, and you feared moving, feared whether or not this was your boyfriend standing in front of you. You then noticed the blood still on his fingers, dripping slowly, carefully, and he held your face and caressed it tenderly. You could only wonder whose blood was that.
Your vision blurred, and the taste of iron filled your mouth, your body trembling as he stood above you.
"Please don't hurt me…" You whispered up at him, silently crying.
"Don't cry, my beauty…" He slowly wiped your tears. "I am getting rid of what I deem dangerous. I won't let anything hurt you," He caressed your cheek with his fingers, and you could feel the cold sensation of the blood against your skin and you shivered.
"Let's go home, please." You were scared. You didn't want to be here anymore.
"Very well." Geto then picked you up bridal-style, and you were too afraid to protest. He was strong, yet his hold on you was gentle; despite what you've witnessed, you knew you were safe in his arms. You're weak to his love, and he knew it as he held you close to his chest as you both left the crime scene, heading home.
You tried to ignore what you've just witnessed and decided to wait for Geto to open up and tell you the truth.
"Let's clean up when we get home, okay?" You told him as you looked up at his blood-stained face. He still looked so soft and gentle.
"As you say, my love."
You reached your shared apartment with Geto and quickly made a beeline for the bathroom, starting up the bath and doing your best to calm yourself down as your mind raged with thoughts. You could hear Geto moving around in your bedroom, and you worried that he had forgotten his dirty clothes. "Don't lie down on the bed yet. Your clothes are all dirty!"
You could hear him chuckle just by the door, and you looked up and saw that he was leaning against the doorframe, smirking down at you as you prepared the tub. Without saying another word, Geto began stripping his clothes just as you shut off the tap and made sure that the water was warm enough for the both of you.
"Quickly, my petal," He muttered quietly as he sunk himself down on the tub, his dark eyes gazing over your body as you stripped from your own clothes as well. You tried your best to ignore his heavy gaze on you as you joined him in the tub, slowly crouching down and letting the warmth of the water engulf your cold body. You sighed in relief.
"Why are you smiling like that?" You asked Geto, the sinister smile on his face not faltering as you moved closer towards him, grabbing the washcloth from the corner and filling it with soap.
"Because I'm with you. And I love you." He leaned over you, his strong arms trapping your body in between as he gripped the tub's edges. He then began peppering your shoulder with wet kisses.
"Suguru!" You gasped at the sudden contact, yet your body failed you as your lower belly flipped in excitement, and you squeezed your thighs as pleasure began to budge at your pussy.
"Shhh. Let me take care of you now, my beauty." He whispered, letting his fingers trail the outlines of your curves, his hand disappearing underneath the bubbles as he continued to slide his hand down your waist and the curves of your ass.
"A-At least let me clean you up first, Suguru." You mumbled nervously, your hand gripping the washcloth tightly as you tried to keep yourself from lunging at your boyfriend. As much as you wanted to, and given the circumstance and the sexiest way to do it, he was still covered in blood, which brought you back to the questions that nagged at your brain.
"Of course, love." Suguru could only smile at you lazily as he leaned back, letting your hands work their way around the muscles on his chest and arms. Your cheeks burned underneath his stare, his gaze filled with so much desire. When your hand dropped to his stomach, you gasped at the feel of something else poking at your skin. You didn't have to take a peek to recognize that Suguru was clearly enjoying your hands all over him.
You then asked him to turn around so you could clean his back. Your hands trembled as you ran the cloth down his body, not because you were afraid but because your body was already craving his touch. Geto's breathing was also becoming sharp and rough, as if he was trying his best to control himself.
"Feel better?" You whispered behind him as you finished cleaning his broad back. Geto chuckled as he turned back around to face you, his stare filled with so much hunger. Your cheeks were glowing red at the sight of him, his muscles glistening with the water and the way his arms flexed with each movement.
"My love, let me reciprocate?" Geto's voice was soft and sultry as he stared into your eyes. You could only nod slowly, not breaking eye contact as he gently took the washcloth from your hand. He then began cleaning you, letting his large hands move gently yet sensually across your body—kissing every part of your skin that he touched and enjoyed it immensely. You were breathless, weak to the touch of his hands, your body trembling with need.
"Suguru please…" You whimpered out.
"Shhh. Just let me take care of you." He dropped the washcloth as his hand grabbed your face, pulling you in for a kiss, and you gasped at the roughness of his touch. He moaned at the feel of your smaller lips against his, finally being able to feel your skin moving in synch with his. His other hand went down to grip your waist as he pulled you closer to him.
The kisses became needier and heavier as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, exploring the sweet taste of you and you tried your best to keep up with his pace. Geto was hungry. He was getting needy.
If he didn't slow down anytime soon, your lips felt like it would bruise.
But surprisingly enough, you found yourself enjoying how rough he was treating you.
"Slow down, baby," You gasped for air as you weakly tried to push his chest away from you, but he was adamant.
"No, beauty, let me have my way with you." He grinned as he gripped your shoulders and moved you around so your back was facing him. He then pulled you tight against him and you whimpered at the feel of his hard cock hitting the small of your back.
"Let me make you feel good…" He breathed out before nipping at the skin on your neck, and you moaned at the mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your veins. His large hands were prying your legs open, and his chest rumbled at the deep groan that left his lips at the sight of you in front of him with your legs wide open, pussy within easy access of his long and thick fingers.
His fingers began playing with the folds of your cunt, rubbing them and spreading them open, and you gasped at the feel of the water touching your insides. His finger was quick to spot your clit and he gave it a tentative rub, and your back arched as pleasure sprung throughout your body.
"Yeah? You like that?" He whispered against your lips, nibbling your earlobe and you could feel goosebumps rise on the back of your neck at the sensation. "You like me touching you like this?"
You were too caught up in the pleasure of having his fingers rub your clit that you couldn't bring yourself to answer.
"Tell me," He demanded followed by a quick slap of your cunt, the water sloshing around at your movements and you gasped at the burning sensation that made you yearn for more.
"Oh! Y-Yes! Feels so good, S'guru!" You moaned out and Geto was clearly satisfied with your answer. Without warning, he slipped a finger inside of you, the mixture of your arousal and the water was making it easy for him to plunge his finger into your hole.
"Want me to fuck you here? In the tub? We haven't tried that, haven't we, baby?" He teased as his finger continued to pump in and out of you, your body arching with every push and pull. Geto couldn't help the moans that escaped his lips as his cock clearly enjoyed the friction against your back.
"P-Please, Suguru…" You gasped as he added another finger inside of you and your cunt gladly took it. "N-Need more,"
His free hand gripped your cheeks and forced you to look up at him. He then brought his lips down to yours, kissing you hungrily as his digits continued to pump in and out of you, prepping you for his thick cock. Once he was certain that you were ready for him, he pulled his fingers out of you and you whimpered at the emptiness. He then gripped your waist and turned you around, pulling you towards his lap and you shuddered at the feel of his hard cock against your thighs, bright red and begging for release.
"See this, baby girl?" He asked you as his hand began to stroke his cock. You could only stare down at him, drooling, mesmerized by how big and swollen he was. You couldn't wait to have him inside of you. "This is yours. All yours. Come closer and ride me, beauty."
You were quick to oblige as you pushed yourself closer to him, lifting yourself up just a little as his hands helped you guide yourself down on the tip of his cock. His head teased at your entrance and you gasped, your knees buckling as you tried your best not to slam yourself down on the monstrosity and hurt yourself in the process.
"Take your time, baby. I know I'm too big for that tight little pussy." Suguru said through gritted teeth as he kept himself from pushing his cock upwards towards your pussy and ripping you apart. You were his baby, and you always needed time to adjust to his size whenever you both fucked.
You pushed yourself deeper, his length slowly disappearing from view and being swallowed by your cunt. You and Geto exchanged moans and curses as you both enjoyed the pleasure of having each other inside.
"Too big…" You gasped as you continued to take all of him in, letting your pussy stretch around his cock and getting used to the thick feel of it.
"You can take me, petal. Your pussy was always made for me." He encouraged, sealing your lips with a kiss and it certainly helped with the discomfort.
As you both continued to distract yourself with sloppy kisses, the discomfort was already gone, and you moved your hips up before slamming back down again. Geto groaned at the feeling as his hips snapped up and met your movements halfway, his cock going deeper and faster with every thrust.
"Fuck, that's it baby. Just like that," He breathed out, slamming his cock inside of you and you were a moaning and whimpering mess above him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as his hands cupped your ass and guided you along and made sure you kept up with his pace.
His mouth caught your nipple and latched onto it, his tongue swirling around the hardened bud as you both continued to fuck each other while his tongue and teeth were busy nibbling at your nipple.
"Suguru!" You gasped. The feel of your breasts being fondled and eaten by Geto paired with the fullness of your pussy inside of him was making your lower belly clench, and you could feel an orgasm coming up.
"You're close, aren't you?" He teased, his movements unfaltering and water spilled over the tub at the excessive movements you both were making. "Why don't you come, then? Come all over my cock while I fuck you good. Yes—fuck, that's right. You're getting tight, princess. Just let it go."
As if under his command, you felt your insides snap and a wave of pleasure washed over you, your orgasm getting stronger with every thrust of Geto's cock inside you. You were trembling, screaming his name.
"That's it. Good girl, my darling, good girl." He praised, yet his movements continued despite your intense orgasm. You were shivering, feeling the sensitivity in your clit but Geto was nowhere close to slowing down.
"S-S'guru, I'm getting sensitive." You whined, your arms still around his neck as he continued to fuck himself inside you, his eyes closed as he relished at the tightness of your pussy. Seeing him like this made your stomach flip. You liked how he was using you for his pleasure, and you were happy to give your body to him anytime he needed it.
"Ngggh—almost there, baby," He groaned, still fucking your sensitive pussy, and the tightness clenched on his cock. "Fuck, so tight already."
As he continued to reach his climax, you pulled back his hair tie and let his long, ebony hair fall, loving how sexy he looked with his wet long hair and focused face as he fucked himself in your little cunt. You were just happy to be there to provide for his needs.
"Use me, Suguru. Come inside of me, fill me up with your seed." You told him, biting your lip as you admired his scrunched up face, his eyes closed and lips parted as he was close to reaching his own orgasm.
And you gasped as hot liquid began filling you up, Geto slamming his cock balls-deep inside of you as he came. He moaned out, calling your name, letting his seed spurt all over inside of you and your stomach flipped at the feel of his warmth in your belly.
You were both panting heavily, Geto still inside you and you could feel his cum slowly leaking out of you already.
Geto certainly didn't miss the way you bit your lip as you stared down at your joined sexes, your eyes lighting up at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. He knew you were getting turned on.
"I think I know what that little pretty head of yours is imagining," Geto teased, a lazy, lopsided smile playing on his lips. "You like my seed inside of you, don't you, petal?"
You didn't have to verbally answer for Geto to know. Your flushed face gave it all away.
He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss you square on the lips. "Alright, let's stay like this a little while longer."
398 notes · View notes
bellofthemeadow · 8 months
Note
Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.
OF COURSE MY DEAR ANON! I am so sorry it took forever to address this request! I have just started my final year of Uni, and with four seminars and graduate applications, I have not had any time to write consistently! But this idea was too enticing to pass up, so thank you very much for sharing it! For those waiting on other fics, I am slowly but surely getting back into the groove of writing more consistently so it should all come out sooner rather than later (hopefully) and I always welcome more fics or one shot ideas! Thank you to y'all for bearing with me, I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️
No warnings excpet for some violence (against Jason Carver so thats fine I think) and some heavy make out session
Word Count: 5.3K
Masterlist
Hit Me Baby One More Time
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You had gotten your first taste of popularity on your very first day of middle school, a couple of years ago. That entire week leading up to it had been filled with fear and stress about what people would think of you. Overwhelmed, you had spent the last few days of your summer agonizing over your outfit choice, turning your daily fashion show into a reluctant performance for your big brother, Steve. Despite his huffs and puffs, he had reassured you that everything would go smoothly, but you couldn't help to worry. Eventually, you ended up settling on a cute white dress that reached just above your knees, paired with a soft baby pink cardigan. You had hoped it would be enough to get some of the right kind of attention that Steve always talked about.
In hindsight, you realized that you might have been a tad dramatic as when lunchtime had rolled around, a group of girls had approached you, giggling with excitement. "Are you Steve Harrington's sister?" they had asked-whispered with bright envious eyes. You slowly nodded, and with elated giggles, they ushered you over to their table, where the popular crowd was hanging out. It turned out your brother had quite the reputation, and while you knew he was popular, you hadn't fully grasped the extent to which the name Harrington would impact your social life. For you, Steve was just the idiot older brother who used Farah Fawcet's hairspray to keep his dumb hair in place – But to everyone else, it seemed that Steve was a pretty big deal. So, you were, it seemed, a legacy, and the rest, as they say, was history. And that very day, you also ended up meeting your future best friend, Chrissy Cunningham, who you would grow to love with all your heart.
Five years had come and gone, and now, you were finally well-established into your senior year, ready to graduate in the spring. And while it was true that your older brother might have facilitated your initial entry into the realm of popularity, you had since etched out a distinctive name for yourself. As your brother moved on to new chapters in his life (namely an underpaid job at family video), your own journey through high school took a markedly different path. In fact, your popularity had continued to ascend, like a rising star in the night sky.
Though the Harrington name may have laid the foundation, you had meticulously built upon it, brick by brick. You had cultivated your own unique persona, and it had become a force to be reckoned with in the hallways of your school. No longer living in the shadow of your brother's glory days, you had emerged as a charismatic figure in your own right.
You had become The Harrington sibling who truly counted, especially after the dramatic showdown between Steve and Billy Hargrove during his own senior year. In the aftermath of that clash, your brother's social standing had taken a considerable hit, with much of his social credit being seized by the mullet-wearing bad-boy. The Harrington name, which had once been associated with Steve's swagger, now conjured images of a radiant, saccharine smile, cheerleading outfits, and a personality as pinky-sweet as bubblegum.
While Chrissy indisputably reigned as the queen of Hawkins High, some believed it was only because you had no desire to claim that throne—a belief rooted in truth as you had no interest of being the queen of anything, especially Hawkins High as beyond Chrissy, you harboured little affection for the other members of the popular clique. Whether it was Jason Carver and his cronies or the remainder of the cheer squad, you couldn't help but find them increasingly vapid.
Nestled at the popular table right in the heart of the bustling cafeteria, always donning Hawkins’ green cheer outfit, a nagging sensation of inauthenticity always clung to you. Hitching deep into your soul, making you feel like the fraud you’ve always believed yourself to be as although your elevated social status had smoothed your journey through high school, ensuring a constant stream of party invitations, a steadfast companion, and even a few favors from teachers who were drawn to your preppy smile and sunny disposition, it all felt like a facade, far removed from your true self.
You’ve always known how deep inside, there were facets of who you really were that you couldn't openly share with anyone but Chrissy. She alone knew of your profound love for fantasy and science fiction novels. Nothing brought you more joy than retreating home to dive headlong into the mystical realms crafted by H.P. Lovecraft or to lose yourself once more in the pages of your well-worn copy of "Frankenstein." Yet, these passions remained concealed beneath the veneer you projected: the princess of Hawkins High, painted in shades of pink, sweet, and deceptively perfect.
The idea of letting those hidden, nerdy passions of yours see the light of day felt like a risky bet, one that could potentially leave you feeling incredibly alone at Hawkins High. The thought of losing friends and having nowhere to sit during lunch was a constant source of worry. You had faith in Chrissy's unwavering support, regardless of your social standing, but you couldn't bear the idea of burdening her. She was just so kind, always forgiving even to those who didn't deserve it, and you didn't want to be the one responsible for pulling her down.
As a result, the decision to keep these aspects of your identity hidden weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like an unspoken loneliness, a sacrifice you were making to preserve the fragile balance of the life you'd carefully constructed in high school. Hawkins High had its own intricate ecosystem, and you were very much a part of it. Your place within that system was delicate, and you couldn't afford to disrupt it, fearing that it might set off a chain reaction that could destabilize everything. You had no intention of being the one to upset the frail high school biome of Hawkins High.
Now, however, your situation was far from ideal as you found yourself sandwiched between Carly and Tina during lunch, and today, they were even more exasperating than usual. There seemed to be some sort of fallout from Tina's last party, something involving a boy, and now the two girls communicated exclusively through snarky remarks, making the tension rise with every snip from either girl. A brewing headache was beginning to claw at your temples as you were waiting for the explosion to erupt sooner rather than later.
What was happening in front of you wasn’t any better as you were given a front-row seat to the somewhat uncomfortable sight of Jason Carver deeply engrossed in a passionate kiss with Chrissy. She appeared to be on the brink of embarrassment, her attempts to gently push Jason away carried out with shy reluctance. "Jason, please," she implored, her manicured hand finding its way to his chest, a plea in her eyes. "Not in front of everyone..."
In response, Jason merely rolled his eyes dismissively. "Come on, baby," he insisted, his voice low and unconcerned. "No one's even paying attention to us."
You couldn't help but scowl, unhappiness etching your delicate features as you watched the uncomfortable display unfold before you. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You cleared your throat and loudly exclaimed, "Hey, Chrissy?" All eyes turned to you, and you continued, "Do you think we could slip away from lunch a bit early to go over the routine we've been practicing for the upcoming game? I really want to make sure I've got it down perfectly before tonight's match."
Chrissy's sigh of relief was almost audible, and you could sense her gratitude. In contrast, Jason huffed unhappily, clearly irritated by the interruption. He muttered something about leaving you girls to your conversation before he got up and headed to chat with one of his buddies at the far end of the table.
You and Chrissy shared a quick, wordless girl-to-girl conversation. All the words you needed were conveyed through a bombastic side-eye from you and a subtle nod of your head toward Jason. Chrissy responded with a playful roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her shoulder, silently agreeing with your sentiment.
As your eyes shifted away from Chrissy, they unexpectedly locked onto the deep brown ones of Eddie Munson. Two distinct emotions surged from deep within you. One was a rush of excitement as the warmth of your crush enveloped you, causing your face to flush as red as a ripe apple under his gaze. But in an instant, that crush felt almost crushing when you realized that it wasn't you that Eddie was looking at, but rather Chrissy's high ponytail that had captured his attention.
Eddie and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eddie. ChrissyandEddie. It was an undeniable fact that the guy you had the most enormous crush on happened to be utterly smitten with your best friend. It felt almost tragically comical, if you were being honest with yourself. Throughout high school, countless guys had mustered the courage to ask you out, but you had dismissed them all without a second thought. Football jocks, band nerds, potheads, music fanatics – none of them could hold a candle to Eddie Munson in your eyes.From the very moment you first crossed paths with Eddie during your freshman year, your heart had been irreversibly, completely, and utterly captivated by the charismatic and outspoken boy. You were utterly unprepared for it, not like you were out there seeking Cupid's arrow to pierce your heart. You had simply been an unsuspecting victim of one of its whims, but the exquisite pain that followed was worth it. At least, you hoped so.
Thanks to Eddie's recurring attempts at redoing his senior year and your placement in advanced classes, your worlds intersected more than once. One particularly unforgettable encounter unfolded in Mrs. Allen's math class, where the teacher had a peculiar notion that pairing the class's worst student (Eddie) with its best (you) would somehow work magic. You were left a bit shy and entirely tongue-tied in his presence, but Eddie had an uncanny talent for leaning in close and delivering a barrage of side-splitting, utterly inappropriate observations about Mrs. Allen that left you snorting with laughter. For a glorious three months, Eddie was your math partner in crime, and during that time, you dared to believe that something more could evolve from your interactions. If only you could string together coherent sentences without tripping over your words.
However, as fate would have it, the teacher eventually grew tired of her seating arrangement, deciding it was high time to shake things up. This twist in your high school narrative resulted in you and Eddie being separated, an alteration you weren't particularly thrilled about. The new arrangement effectively put a damper on your burgeoning connection.
It was in the midst of this seating shuffle that Eddie tossed a rather loaded question your way, catching you off guard. "Your friend Chrissy," he began, as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. "Is she still with that Carver douche?" Your gaze faltered as you met his, a nod escaping your lips as a wave of disappointment surged within you. Inwardly grappling with the sting of unspoken heartache, you found yourself clutching the hem of your cheer skirt almost desperately. Without another word, you retreated to your newly assigned seat, a sense of melancholy lingering like a shadow and bitter disappointment coating your tongue.
Even now, your gaze would involuntarily flicker to Eddie whenever you found yourself in the same room. Often, he'd be engrossed in conversations with his bandmates or his D&D group, leaving you on the outside looking in. It was a conflicting sensation, feeling his presence so near yet so far away. If only you could gather the nerve to strike up a conversation with him, but you hesitated. After all, you were the popular girl, the one who played by the rules, and good girls weren't supposed to mix with people like Eddie, no matter how much you desperately longed for it. Perhaps during math class today, you thought, you might find a plausible excuse to approach him. Maybe something as simple as asking about the homework or...
"And what the hell do you think you're staring at, Freak!?" The sudden hush that swept over the cafeteria was palpable as every head turned toward Jason, who had abandoned your table and was now striding purposefully toward the one where Eddie and his friends were seated. A chill coursed through your veins, causing your face to pale. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unfolding drama as Eddie rose from his seat. While he appeared outwardly confident, the telltale clenching and unclenching of his hand betrayed the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to you that what he was displaying might just be a facade of bravado.
"Did you dribble that orange ball a few too many times, Carver?" Eddie sarcastically chimed in. His words hung in the air, an open challenge that seemed to stoke the flames of Jason's anger. In a fit of rage, Jason lunged forward, grabbing Eddie by the front of his well-worn jeans jacket. The cafeteria held its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in.
 A gasp escaped your lips, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as the dramatic confrontation unfolded before your eyes. Abruptly, you shot up from your seat, causing Chrissy to turn around in surprise. She sent you an uncertain look as you started to stride toward the two boys. It was as if you were possessed by a force stronger than yourself, you couldn’t let whatever was happening continue – you had to do something!
"Don't try to bullshit me, freak!" Jason's voice reverberated through the cafeteria, anger and scorn dripping from his words. "I saw you looking at Chrissy. You think you can just lay your eyes on her, you freak? She isn't yours; you're nothing but trailer trash! Don't you ever dare to look at her again, alright? Or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!" Jason was so close to Eddie's face that his spittle sprayed across the other boy's features. He shoved Eddie backward, and it was at that moment, as you were making your way between the mass of students that had clustered around Jason and Eddie that you felt a surge of red-hot anger like nothing you had ever felt before.
"Do I make myself clear, freak?" Jason continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Or do I need to send my boys to deal with you and your pathetic group of losers?" Eddie looked incensed, but he cowered under Jason's menacing threat.
"I...wasn't...looking," Eddie enunciated each word through gritted teeth, avoiding Jason's eyes. Jason burst into fake laughter, glancing around at the onlookers.
"Does the freak have a crush?" he taunted, his voice cruel and derisive. "That's hilarious. You honestly think you'd have a chance with Chrissy? Be realistic, freak. What is it now, twice repeating your senior year?" Eddie's face turned a deep shade of pink, shame washing over him as Jason's taunts struck at his insecurities. His shoulders sagged with each insult, and he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Everyone knows anyway that the only way a freak like you could ever get close to a girl is when you and your little cult of Satan practice some sacrifices," Jason continued, his words laced with venom. "I'm even surprised they let people like you in here. Everyone knows what kind of trash your dad was, it ain't surprising that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree…”
You pushed your way through the crowd, determination propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you strode purposefully toward the back of Jason. Eddie's surprised gaze locked onto you as you confidently approached them.
You extended your arm and lightly tapped Jason on the shoulder, effectively cutting off his rant mid-sentence. The abruptness of your action prompted Jason to whirl around to face you, his typically handsome features now contorted into a repulsive mask of anger. It was a stark contrast to the carefully cultivated "cool-guy" image he often projected. But deep down, you knew this enraged countenance was his true face, hidden behind the facade. In fight or flight mode, you recalled your brother Steve's advice about fighting, which you had stored away in your memory, "Sis," Steve's voice echoed in your mind, "when you throw a punch, put your entire body behind it."
And that's precisely what you did. With every ounce of your body weight, you thrust your fist forward directly into Jason's face. The cafeteria was filled with a sharp crack, echoing through the room, followed by a collective gasp from everyone present. An eerie silence descended upon the cafeteria.
Jason lay sprawled on the floor, a violent stream of blood gushing from his nose, while you clutched your hand close to your chest. Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever warned you that hitting someone would hurt like an absolute nightmare! It ] wasn’t like that in the movies!
Your gaze landed on Eddie, and you noticed a peculiar expression take over the young metalhead’s face –  His brown gaze held something unfamiliar, a look you had never seen throughout the time you had been admiring him from afar. I was as though he were seeing you – like he was attempting to decipher the mechanics of your very being. It caught you off guard, this intensity in his stare, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.
“YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!” Jason roared from his sprawled position on the ground.
Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you redirected it toward the fallen boy who cut a rather pathetic figure at your feet. Curling your lip in disdain, you adopted your most haughty tone and huffed, "You, Jason Carver, are the problem here!"
Jason, still sprawled on the floor with a nosebleed, glared up at you, his anger palpable, "You little—"
Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a stern gesture. "Save it, Jason. You had this coming."
A stunned silence blanketed the cafeteria, every eye fixed on the unfolding confrontation. It was as if time had frozen, and the entire room held its breath in rapt attention as Hawkins' princess unleashed her verbal assault on the school's reigning king.
In that moment, you felt like you had the entire cafeteria in a chokehold, and you were determined not to let this opportunity slip away, not after what Jason had put Eddie through. Gathering your resolve, you continued, your voice dripping with disdain, "Do you honestly believe you can bully and belittle people just because they don't conform to your narrow definition of 'normal'? Well, I've had enough of your toxic attitude! You, my dear Jason, are the most insufferable idiot I've ever had the displeasure of encountering in my entire life! And I am done catering to whatever you and your dumb friends say!”
Jason struggled to get up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Turning back to Jason, you crossed your arms and delivered your final message with authority. "Consider this a warning, Jason. Mess with Eddie or anyone else again, and you'll have me to answer to."
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Principal Higgins' thunderous voice pierced through the otherwise eerily silent cafeteria. In an instant, your confidence evaporated, leaving you feeling pale and exposed. You were caught off guard, unable to process what to do or say.
Before you could even react, a familiar, warm hand firmly grabbed yours, yanking you along as they sprinted in the opposite direction, forcefully pushing people out of the way. It was a grip you knew well, and you didn't hesitate to follow Eddie as he practically dragged you toward the exit of the cafeteria.
The scene you left behind was nothing short of chaotic. The entire school stood in a collective stupor, mouths agape in disbelief. Jason Carver, his face an alarming shade of red, appeared on the brink of an aneurysm as he struggled to regain his composure. Principal Higgins, in his authoritative fury, barked orders at the bewildered students, demanding answers and an immediate end to the commotion.
As you reached the exit and the clamor of the cafeteria began to fade, you couldn't help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. Eddie continued to lead you, now behind the school building and into the dense woods that bordered the campus. The farther you ventured into the secluded forest, the more you appreciated the sudden escape from the madness. Eventually, Eddie brought you to a worn-out picnic table, the wood weathered by years of exposure to the elements. Eddie finally managed to catch his breath. He exhaled heavily and asked, "What the hell... hfff... was that?!"
You leaned against the picnic table, still catching your own breath, and grinned at Eddie. "That, Eddie, was me finally giving Jason Carver a taste of his own medicine. That douchebag had it coming!"
Eddie let out a loud surprised laugh while still trying to catch his breath, his eyes still wide from the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I've gotta say, sweetheart, that was quite the show back there. You really let him have it, you got a mean hook princess." A warm flush of pride swept over you as you soaked in Eddie's praises. How long had you waited to hear him say something like that—to acknowledge you and gaze at you as if you were the most wonderful girl in the world? It was a feeling you had been yearning for so long, and if you were to die right now, you would die happy!
Eddie's warm, chocolate-coloured gaze landed on you, and it felt as though it softly swept over every inch of your being. He spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "I don't think anyone was expecting Hawkins' princess to come to the defence of the 'freak.' You know they won't let you forget this, right? Why would you risk all that for little old me, Harrington?"
You let out a sigh, the weight of his inquisitive gaze pressing on you. As you closed your eyes briefly, you grappled with the emotions that had been swirling within you since the first time you had laid eyes on Eddie. A small smile crept onto your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, fixing them on the boy of your dreams. "You're worth it, Munson."
Eddie drew in a sharp breath, taking three steps closer to you. His large, warm hands, bearing tiny scars from playing the guitar, gently swept across your cheeks as he gazed intently into your eyes. "Do you mean that, Harrington? Because there's no going back if I kiss you right now—it's you and me, the princess and the 'freak.' You won’t climb back from that fall.”
You glanced at your right hand, the knuckles scraped and the skin raw, with a slight swelling on your wrist. "I think it's a little too late for that anyway," you sheepishly admitted. Eddie smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration, before gently taking your hand in his two larger ones. He slowly brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on each of them, causing your breath to hitch.
"Who knew that the princess of Hawkins High was Indiana’s future boxing champion," Eddie softly joked, his voice laced with affection. "I just feel bad for this pretty, soft hand – all bruised and battered to protect me, like the prettiest knight in pink armor coming to my rescue." You couldn't help but swoon at his words as Eddie continued to softly kiss your hand, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours, his eyes filled with… Love? Tenderness? A girl could dream.
A warm smile curved across Eddie's lips, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his in a searing kiss. As you both savored each other, Eddie's hand slowly wrapped around the base of your neck, holding you close to him. As you were trying not to faint from the sheer pleasure this moment was bringing you, a flash of remembrance rushed through you, snapping you back from your trance and causing you to break the kiss and catch your breath. You whispered softly against Eddie's lips, "What about Chrissy?"
Eddie nuzzled your face with his nose, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. "What about her?" he retorted playfully. "I mean... I thought... I thought you had a thing for her," you admitted meekly.
Eddie smirked against your cheek. "If I did, I wouldn't be kissing you right now, right?" His voice held a teasing edge as he continued to shower your neck with tender kisses.
You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of contradicting emotions – wanting to keep going to feel more of him, wishing him to stop playing with your heart because you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. "I mean it, Eddie... I don't want to be your second choice."
Eddie stopped his ministrations and returned to your face, holding your gaze with his. "You were always my first choice, Eddie," you confessed, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. "And I don't think I could handle being your backup plan."
Eddie's whispers were tender as he wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. "Nononono, sweetheart. Don't cry, please," he implored softly. "You were always my first choice." His words held a reassuring sincerity that began to soothe your racing heart. But you wouldn’t be so easily swayed, as much as you loathed Jason Carver, you had witnessed first hand how Eddie seemed enraptured with Chrissy.
You huffed in disbelief, but Eddie insisted, urging you to meet his gaze. "No, it's true. Hey, look at me," he gently encouraged. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with a girl like you. You know, you're like my dream girl, right?" You gave him an uncertain look, still wrestling with your doubts. "You always stare at Chrissy, though. And you did ask me if she was still with Jason, remember?"
Eddie released your cheeks and took a step back, embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he used a piece of his shaggy hair to shield himself from you. "I wasn't looking at Chrissy. You're always with Chrissy, so I was looking at you," he admitted, his voice tinged with shyness. "And I only asked you that because I panicked. I was going to ask you out, but the guys had been teasing me for weeks, telling me I was too much of a coward to do it. I guess they were right because I chickened out."
As Eddie continued, his embarrassment grew, and he took another step back. He held the piece of hair in front of his face, as if to hide himself from you. "I've actually had a crush on you since last year," he confessed, his words shocking you.
"Are you joking?!" you blurted out, astonished.
He shook his head, his warm brown eyes holding your gaze. "Not at all, princess," he began with a soft smile. "It was last year. You were on your way back from cheer practice, and you were in a hurry, holding a huge backpack. It happened so fast that you didn't even realize a book had fallen out."
His eyes sparkled as he continued, his tone becoming more animated. "I saw it lying there, and curiosity got the best of me – I picked it up, and to my surprise, it was a copy of 'The Hobbit.’” He grinned as if sharing a secret. "I was planning to return it to you, honestly, but then, when I opened it, I saw that there was a bunch of notes in the margins." Eddie started grinning even more as he continued “All there in the margins, notes, thoughts, musings. It was like reading your mind with every turn of the page. Your insights, your emotions, your laughter, and even your frustrations were all there in the margins. I knew I had stumbled upon the most precious treasure in the universe – it was a private window into you."
Your breath hitched at his words, and as Eddie spoke, you felt a warmth spreading through you, "It felt like we were close," Eddie continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't put the book down. It was like having a conversation with you, even when you weren't around. I realized how much we had in common, how you saw the world, and it fascinated me.”
The thought that Eddie had held onto that copy of 'The Hobbit,' with your notes and thoughts, all this time was both surprising and heartwarming. Damn, he was perfect.
"Fuck, I sound so creepy," Eddie confessed, breaking your reverie. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.
But you weren’t creeped out, far from it. For the first time in your life, you felt completely understood by someone – inside and out. "No, Eddie," you whispered softly, your heart swelling with love. "You don't sound creepy at all. You sound... perfect." A sweet cocky grin got etched on Eddie’s lips “Perfect, eh?”
Getting overwhelmed by his stare, you tried to play it cool and diverted his question by teasingly asking, "So you’ve had a big fat crush on me for a while, right?"
Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Don't get too high and mighty, princess," he said with a warm smile, his voice laced with adoration. "From the looks of it, you've got a pretty big crush on little old me too…"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling a delightful warmth in the pit of your stomach. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," you replied in a sing-song voice, your eyes never leaving his.
Eddie's smile deepened, his gaze filled with affection. With a tender touch, he placed his hands on your waist, and before you knew it, he had spun you around. You couldn't help but let out a joyful squeak as you twirled together in a sweet, romantic dance. As he gently lowered you back to the ground, his strong arms remained securely wrapped around your back, pulling you close.
In that intimate moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you entwined in each other's embrace. Your breaths synchronized, and you lost yourselves in each other's eyes, the unspoken promise of a beautiful future passing between you.
"Hey, Eddie," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with affection and longing.
Eddie's gaze softened even more, his eyes filled with tenderness as he held you close. "Yeah, princess?"
With a radiant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your heart singing with love. "I've got a big fat crush on you too."
A soft, contented sigh escaped Eddie's lips, and he held you even tighter as if he never wanted to let you go. "Good." And without another word, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Nothing ever tasted sweeter.
“You gonna be alright sitting with the freaks now?” “As long as I sit with you Eddie, I could not care less.”
The fallen princess and the freak," you thought contentedly, "that has the ringing of a love story for the ages.” And all it took was that punch you threw at Jason Carver's face for you and Eddie to find your way to each other.
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Lost in the moment (part 1)
Nico Rosberg x fem!reader
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Summary: Throughout her career as a motorsport journalist, (Y/N) has established a special relationship with Nico. But what happens when unfortunate circumstances keep her from being there for him during the most important moment of his career? (part 1 of 2)
Warnings: Other than some angst there isn't any, female reader
Note: Noticing the lack of Nico fanfiction, I've decided to turn my dreams into an actual story. No worries, there will be a second part!
Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/mynicosensesaretingling/734355288476565504/lost-in-the-moment-part2
Hope you enjoy it <3
Life as a journalist was not exactly a quiet life, especially for (Y/N), who worked as a reporter live on location for a motorsport journal called Countdown Magazine. Having been a dream job for the young woman since childhood, however, the stress that came with working in the motorsport industry seemed only half as bad to her.
But this year, the atmosphere had changed as the intense rivalry between Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton, known as the “Silver War”, had captivated the world of Formula 1. As a dedicated and well-reputed reporter, (Y/N) had secured herself, what you could call a front-row seat, which allowed her to immerse herself in the high-stakes drama that unfolded throughout the season and enabled her to follow every twist and turn with unwavering dedication.
However, even though the feud between the Mercedes drivers provided great headlines and stories, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel tense whenever Lewis and Nico had a go at each other.
Having been covering the sport for multiple years now had created a closer bond between her and several of the drivers and none more so than Nico Rosberg. The German Mercedes driver had always struck (Y/N) as a fascinating character. 
Over the years, their paths had crossed countless times during press conferences, pit-lane interviews and post-race debriefs. She had covered his journey from the earlier days of his Formula 1 career, watching him develop from a promising talent into a championship contender. His approachability and genuine interest in connecting with those around him were what had set Nico apart from the other drivers. Beyond the professional facade, the driver was a thoughtful guy, cracking jokes, sharing gossip, discussing the intricacies of the sport, the pressures of competition and even personal anecdotes from his life. 
Before she knew it, (Y/N) had found herself staying behind after work, searching out any chance to connect with the German. It didn’t take long before he invited her to join him at whatever he was planning on doing next, be it a walk around the track, getting something to eat or simply hanging around the paddock. Each time she accepted his offer the unique bond between them grew stronger, forging a friendship that transcended the typical reporter-athlete dynamic.
"Sometimes I really wonder why you spend so much time with me." the young reporter once mused, resting her chin on her hand as she leaned against the counter. Nico, who was standing next to her at the whirring coffee machine, shrugged his shoulders calmly, "I have to make sure I'm always presented in the best light. After all, we don't want any scandalous headlines or such, do we?." his cheeky laughter was quickly interrupted when (Y/N)'s foot found his shin. "Ouch." the blond man exclaimed overdramatically, pointing at her with his silver spoon in an accusing manner, but his narrowed eyes were sparkling playfully. "I swear one day I'm going to lose my ability to drive because of you. And then we'll both be out of a job." (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "There are plenty of other Formula 1 drivers I could report on." "Mhm." Nico was nodding while picking up his cup from the coffee machine. "But apparently these drivers must be boring as hell, otherwise you wouldn't be spending so much time with me." He winked at her whilst stirring his coffee, getting an eye-roll from (Y/N) in response. "Oh come on, I know you love me." Nico chuckled. "Oh shut up," the young woman laughed, waving her hand in a dismissive manner, purposefully ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat.
One of (Y/N)’s favourite memories, which she had made in her friendship with Nico, was when after a long, rainy qualifying day and countless press conferences, the driver had waited for her in the pitlane, an umbrella in his right hand as he wordlessly motioned for her to join him with his free one. “It’s raining.” she had expressed, pulling her jacket tighter around her body in hesitation, eyes darting to the dark clouds above. “And I have an umbrella.” Nico had simply countered matter-of-factly, shaking the umbrella for emphasis, scrunching his nose as his gesture led cold droplets to land on his face. (Y/N) suppressed a laugh, finding the sight utterly adorable. “I can’t just leave you standing there in the rain, can I?” her voice was filled with amusement, as she mustered the man, before quickly making her way over to Nico. “I mean,” he chuckled, as she ducked under his umbrella “You definitely could, but I’d find it incredibly rude.” (Y/N) huffed a laugh, linking her arm with his. “Well, how kind of me to join you then.” She hummed, eyes fixed onto the moon’s reflection in one of the puddles below. “ What are we doing anyways ?” she raised her brow, looking up at him with curiosity. Nico turned his head, a sparkle in his eyes. “We’ve never walked a track at night before, so I figured we’d make it a first. And now that I am thinking about it, I don’t think we’ve ever walked in the rain before either.” his gaze turned mischievous as he shook the umbrella once again, sprinkling water into both of their faces. A hearty chuckle left his lips as he watched (Y/N) scrunch her nose, just like he had done earlier.  “Why did you even bother getting an umbrella?” (Y/N) huffed lightheartedly, as she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Cause I know you wouldn’t have joined me without one.” he grinned down at her before pulling her along with him. That night, as Nico and her had spent several hours walking the moonlit track, sharing an umbrella and conversing about everything and nothing, is when (Y/N) had realized that her feelings for the Mercedes driver went far beyond friendship.
In the current tense situation, moments like these were not lost on the pair, but they were becoming increasingly infrequent. With the championship-deciding race approaching, (Y/N) could feel the pressure on Nico becoming stronger by the minute. Being on the brink of realizing his lifelong dream of becoming a Formula 1 World Champion and stepping into the footsteps of his father had led to several sleepless nights thinking about the sacrifices and the relentless pursuit of excellence that had brought him to this pivotal moment. And on top of that, Nico’s biggest rival was his own teammate and best friend, Lewis Hamilton. 
Especially now that the relationship with his childhood friend was slowly but surely coming to an end, Nico found himself drawn to (Y/N)’s presence, even more so than usual. Amongst this utter mess, which he found himself in, she was his lifeline and he clung to it like a desperate sailor lost at sea. 
Particularly in the days leading up to the race, Nico was confiding in the woman about his innermost fears and ambitions, trusting her as someone who genuinely understood the intricacies of the sport and its impact on his life. She, in turn, had found herself awaiting his late-night calls, admiring his determination as she listened to him rambling about whatever was occupying his mind, her heart filling with a sense of pride whenever she’d hear a faint chuckle from Nico as she managed to bring some lightheartedness and humour to their conversations.
"You'll be okay," she would say to him in a gentle voice, "you've always managed so far." On the other end of the line, the driver would sigh, "But it's never been like this before." His voice was weary and full of thoughtful despair. "And in the future, it will never be like this again." she would say with a shurg, her empathetic smile practically audible through the phone. "So try to enjoy as many of these moments as you can." There was a pause before Nico gave a breathless chuckle, "Oh man, what would I do without you?"
On the day of the race, as Nico prepared for taking on the track, he couldn't help but think of (Y/N) and how she had supported him over the last few weeks, reassuring him and quite literally keeping him sane as the situation within his team steadily deteriorated.
His blue eyes scanned the area outside of the Mercedes garage. Unable to spot his friend in any of the spots she’d usually be in, Nico approached one of the stewards. “Hey, sorry,” he tried to sound nonchalant  “Have you seen the Countdown crew?” his eyes nervously flitted around the paddock, before landing back on the steward. “Countdown Magazine? No, I don’t think I have seen them anywhere on the track today.” the older man answered, a rough hand scratching away at his beard. “Thank you.” Nico shortly nodded, before abruptly turning on his heels and making his way back into the garage with tense shoulders. (Y/N)’s absence from the paddock weighed heavily on his mind. She had promised him to be there today and she’d usually come in amongst the first wave of reporters. Why wasn’t she there yet? Nico combed his fingers through his hair , lost in thought. Shaking his head, he felt his team’s eyes on his form. She’d surely be at the paddock in no time, he thought,  deciding that for now, it would do him better to focus on the race and his strategies, in order to secure the championship.
What Nico didn't know, however, was that just mere moments before the gates to the paddock were opened, the boss of Countdown Magazine had abruptly fired  (Y/N) at short notice. 
With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, the only thing the young journalist had been able to understand through the speaker of her cell phone was that the magazine needed a “breath of fresh air” and therefore had decided to get rid of their motorsport department in the composition in which it had existed until then…or something like that. (Y/N) wasn't entirely sure, as she was overcome with panic as her thoughts flew straight to Nico.
Just the night before, she had promised him on the phone that she would never miss the most important race of his career and now she was sitting in her hotel room, unemployed, with no access to the paddock and no way to get a ticket to the race because the tickets had already sold out weeks ago. 
Had a champion of misfortune been crowned that night, she was sure that no one would have been able to deprive her of that victory. Shaky fingers dialled Nico's number, which she by now knew better than she did her own, the cheap wood of the hotel bed creaking as (Y/N)'s leg bobbed up and down in unease. With each ring of the call, her breath caught in her throat. The ex-reporter knew the driver too well by now to have expected him to use his cell phone so close to the race, but what other option did she have? She pressed the phone to her ear for a few more moments, each second more painful than the last, wide eyes staring blankly at the F1 broadcast on her TV screen. It was only when the drivers left their garages to get into formation that she dropped the cell phone from her ear and threw it onto the mattress behind her with a loud "Fuck!", followed by a strangled sob whilst desperate fingers pulled at her hair. 
As the race unfolded, the tension in the air was palpable. Nico and Lewis were locked in a fierce battle for the championship and every corner, every lap, seemed to carry the weight of each driver’s dreams. When Nico finally crossed the finish line , securing his victory, he felt a mix of euphoria and disbelief. After this particularly demanding season, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief, having  fulfilled his life-long dream of winning a World Driver’s Championship title.
The moment Nico stepped onto the podium to accept the championship trophy, he couldn’t help himself but to scan the crowd of reporters, still hoping to catch a glimpse of (Y/N). She had to be there, after all that’s what she had promised him. Yet, his friend still remained conspicuously absent. 
Nico held the coveted trophy high, the cheers of the crowd a deafening roar, as he smiled down at the sea of people. But even with a championship in hand and hundreds of people celebrating his achievement, there was a strange feeling of emptiness within his heart. As the champagne sprayed and the crowd celebrated, Nico's emotions were a turbulent mix of exhilaration and confusion. He couldn't help but wonder why (Y/N) hadn't been there smiling up at him, especially when she had been a constant presence throughout not only the season, but the majority of his career. The absence of his friend was like a splinter in his heart, casting a faint shadow over what should have been the most triumphant moment of his career. 
Meanwhile, (Y/N) watched the race unfold from her hotel room, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. The news of her abrupt departure from her reporting career had come as a shock, and she had fought bitterly against it. Her job had been her passion, and Formula 1 was her life. To be denied the opportunity to report on the championship-deciding race, and more importantly to support Nico in his most crucial moment, was a heartbreak she struggled to bear.
As she witnessed Nico celebrating his victory, the realization of her absence was a painful weight on both her shoulders and her mind. She had been forced to watch her friend reach the pinnacle of his career from a distance, unable to share this moment of glory with the man who had unknowingly stolen her heart. The tears she shed were a mixture of pride for her friend and a deep sense of sorrow for her own situation. 
Back at the race track, Nico's initial reaction, unaware of the circumstances behind his friend’s absence, was one of betrayal. Finding himself being swarmed by countless reporters fighting for even the smallest of chances to get a word from the freshly crowned champion, he couldn’t help the bitterness he began to feel towards (Y/N). If all of these random journalist could have turned up, then why couldn’t his dearest friend do the same for him. The longer Nico thought about it, the more he questioned his relationship with (Y/N), something which he had valued so highly up until that very moment. 
She hadn’t just used him to boost her journalism career, had she? As much as he wanted to shake the thought, the champion couldn’t stop the idea of having been used solely for thrilling stories and eye-catching headlines to consume him, clouding his mind as the pain of having been abandoned by the woman, whom he had opened himself up to, right when he needed her most, sank in. 
His heart was clouded by hurt, and the insufferable ache of believing he had been manipulated by someone he had grown to trust and even developed some sort of feelings for was something he didn't know whether he could cope with.
How could a person whom he valued so highly and would give anything for, be so selfish and leave him standing there like that, clutching his fulfilled lifelong dream in his hand and yet still feeling a hole in his heart. Had his feelings really blinded him to such an extent that he hadn't realized (Y/N)'s true nature, or had his heart perhaps never wished to recognize it in the first place ?
“Mr.Rosberg!” the shout of his name pulled the driver out of his thoughts. Blinking, his eyes travelled up the arm currently shoving a microphone into his face, before settling on the face of the reporter, whose red lips were pulled into an impatient smile. “I am sorry, I didn’t quite catch your question.” he mindlessly gestured around with his hand, hoping to come across as if he really hadn't caught the question in the bustling scenery. 
He raised his brows, a half-heartedly apologetic smile on his lips as he kept his attentive eyes on the reporter while waiting for her to repeat what she had just asked. The reporter laughed in a put-on fashion and Nico had to wrestle with himself to refrain from rolling his eyes.
"So," the woman thrust the microphone even further into his face, "I'd be really interested to know whether there was anyone who helped you get through this difficult season, or whether it was all down to you?" Almost immediately the driver put on the mask of a cocky smile. "No, all of that was entirely down to me and I dare say I managed pretty darn well." Nico’s hair bobbed as he nodded towards his trophy. His smile grew painful as he was intent on ignoring the extent of the lie he had just told and the pang of pain, that the conscious erasure of his relationship with (Y/N) caused deep within his core.
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koogl001 · 1 year
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I have a bit of an oddball one. Any HCs for Alastor if he was in an arranged marriage with a fem! s/o??? Would he ever come to like his new marriage partner? Not entirely sure why he would be in an arranged marriage, but I thought the concept was unique.
One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist
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The marriage was arranged by Alastor’s mother
She came home one day and presented the idea that he would really like a daughter of her long-time friend
And that daughter happened to be you
Being the mama’s boy he is, he would do anything to make her happy, even marry a person he never met before
When he first met you, it was to discuss the wedding arrangements
You were from an immigrant family, so you agreed to marry him in order to gain some footing and good reputation in Louisiana thanks to him being the most well known and liked radio host around
You found him handsome for sure, but gaining feelings would be as much of a journey for you as it would be for him
You were a stay-at-home wife, and god damn were you the best wife he could have asked for
The house was always clean, there was always warm delicious food waiting for him when he got home, you would always listen to anything he had to say, taking his words into careful consideration, you were sweet, kind, compassionate
The only thing you weren’t was loving, but he understood that
After all, neither was he
But he was still a perfect husband, just like his mama raised him to be
He was a gentleman, he listened, helped around the house, got you anything you asked for, let you redesign his house so it would feel more welcoming to you, and he never got angry with you (not only because he is naturally quirky and fun loving, but also because he refused to be like his old man)
Being his wife, you eventually found out about his dark secret
I mean it would be virtually impossible for him to keep them from you seeing as after a few months, you knew the house like the back of your hand and could tell there were slight red stains on the floor, or little scratch marks around the door frame (from his victims trying to hold onto something for dear life of course)
One day, when he was off to work, you followed the marks to a carpet, removing it and finding a secret door leading to a basement filled with dead human bodies, disfigured, and chopped up
So, THIS was where he always got the meat
When he came home, he was expecting anything but you telling him you knew he was the infamous Louisiana killer, yet you seemed oddly calm and collected
He was reaching for a knife on the kitchen counter, but halted his actions when he heard you giggle
Ok, you were taking this suspiciously well, what the hell is going on
That is when he discovered your little dark secret
Very much like his own family, due to you being immigrants you had nothing when you first came to the state and instead of dying from starvation, your father took to hunting humans for food when you were but a child
You knew you recognised the flavour of the meat you have been eating for months now from somewhere, you just couldn’t connect the dots
Oh, you were perfect!
You started bonding over this little fact and soon, Alastor started inviting you to his little hunt sessions
You, being the curious little thing you were, with nothing interesting do to at home, agreed, stoked to see just how he lured and killed his victims and when he even encouraged you to try it for yourself, you agreed in no time
And that’s when he knew, as he saw you drenched in blood, slowly dragging the life out of your victim, that’s when he knew
That he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you
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