#THIS IS NOT INVITING A CONVERSATION. NO MORE ASKS REGARDING THIS WILL BE ANSWERED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tossawary · 5 months

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So, in SVSSS, Shen Yuan makes a few really interesting assumptions when he sits down to speak properly to Airplane Bro for the first time. The first assumption is that Shang Qinghua is a transmigrator. Two of the other assumptions he makes, connected to this first one, arguably contradict each other slightly in fascinating ways. (I will put the full relevant scene fragment / quotation from these chapters under the cut at the end.)

Shen Yuan's assumption that Shang Qinghua is a transmigrator appears to be built first and foremost on the fact that he heard SQH say, "WTF!" during the conference. Shen Yuan also reveals: "At the time, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t heard him particularly clearly, so he hadn’t paid it any mind. But afterward, the more he’d thought about it, the more suspicious he’d grown." (Ch5)

So, Shen Yuan belatedly decides that he hadn't misheard this one accidental slip during a chaotic attack that damaged him both physically and emotionally. He decides that he definitely heard that correctly! He's confident enough that he invites Shang Qinghua over to his house and then immediately and calmly accuses his fellow peak lord of treason.

Shen Yuan very casually says: "How was it inadequate? You clearly overexerted yourself. You even found demonic creatures like the ghost-head spiders, Nu Yuan Chan, and bone eagles—none of which ever enter the Human Realm of their own volition. How could Shixiong rebuke you for inadequacy?" (Ch4)

Shang Qinghua sputters, jumps to his feet, turns red, blusters with offense, sneers, brushes Shen Yuan's hand away.

"“Why wouldn’t I? I have a clear conscience. Why would I fear a false accusation?” With a sneer, Shang Qinghua brushed away his hand.

“Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky?” asked Shen Qingqiu." (Ch4)

When Shen Yuan says Airplane Bro's ID, Shang Qinghua pauses and says, “You… How do you know my ID?” (Ch4) And the scene immediately switches from a confrontation between two peak lords regarding treason to a transmigration reveal.

But hey, let's go back to that first version of the scene! What if Shang Qinghua hadn't been a transmigrator? Shen Yuan must have mentally reviewed what happened at the conference and all of their previous encounters, but he still could have been wrong in this assumption. He might have misheard and misinterpreted.

In which case, throwing out Airplane's ID wouldn't have stopped the scene and Shen Yuan would now have to deal with a belligerent traitor who 1) isn't admitting to what he did and/or 2) may turn violent in self-defense. Shen Yuan even admits: "He’d only wanted to study Shang Qinghua’s reaction to this name to determine if he had also read Proud Immortal Demon Way—but given his reaction…he wasn’t just a reader, was he?!" (Ch4)

Shen Yuan has no proof of Shang Qinghua's crimes and everyone thinks he's out of his mind with grief, probably searching for someone to blame, though Yue Qingyuan might indulgently open an investigation anyway and might actually end up finding something. If this had been Original Shang Qinghua, this confrontation could have broken out into a fight.

It was reckless. But I'm not reading it as "recklessly stupid" so much as "recklessly aggressive".

If Shen Yuan had been focused purely on revealing a fellow transmigrator, he could have opened this conversation with something like, "Have you ever heard of the writer 'Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky'?" And whatever answer he received then would have told him if he was dealing with a fellow transmigrator, who could be disarmed by this revelation, or if he was dealing with Original Shang Qinghua, who would just be mildly confused. Once he had that information in hand, Shen Yuan could go from there.

But no, Shen Yuan opens with Shang Qinghua's crimes first. Which makes me suspect that he is angry with the man for causing the disaster at the Immortal Alliance Conference. If Shang Qinghua hadn't let in the demons, Shen Yuan wouldn't have been forced to push Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss. I personally don't think that Shen Yuan would have minded here if this confrontation had turned violent. He's perfectly capable of dealing out violence. He's a pretty good fighter, even with the Without A Cure issue, and with his confidence here... I'm going to assume that Shen Yuan thinks he could take Shang Qinghua in a fight. He may be right.

He's probably also confident that Yue Qingyuan would side with him if he had to kill a fellow peak lord (a traitor) in self-defense. I agree with this assessment. I think Shen Qingqiu's reputation would take a hard hit, as would Cang Qiong, but Shang Qinghua is a traitor here. If they could find any proof whatsoever, then the other peak lords would probably begrudgingly go along with this story.

To be clear, I don't think that Shen Yuan is entering into this conversation thinking about killing Shang Qinghua. I think he would attempt capture first. But he IS entering into this conversation resolved to either 1) unmask Shang Qinghua as a transmigrator or 2) unmask Shang Qinghua as a traitor and accomplice to murder. He accuses the man before anything else! This is going to end in a transmigrator reveal or in eventual violence.

If Shen Yuan is wrong, he cannot take this accusation back. He is either finding a "friend from his hometown" or he is making a very serious enemy here. If Original Shang Qinghua manages to pretend he's innocent and shake off these accusations, clearing any trial Cang Qiong holds for him, then he's presumably going to be secretly gunning for Shen Qingqiu from then on.

Shen Yuan is betting a LOT on not having misheard a phrase that he admits he didn't hear very well! He admitted that!

I do think Shen Yuan starts this confrontation off being angry - angry at Shang Qinghua, angry at himself, angry at the situation - underneath his calm. I think he's ready for a fight if necessary. I kind of think he might want one on some level. I think he's feeling a little reckless in his fresh grief and loneliness.

Because the other option is that Shen Yuan entered this conversation unprepared for the possibility of being wrong about there being another transmigrator. And also unprepared for getting a really bad reaction from Original Shang Qinghua. And I'd really like to think that Shen Yuan is smarter than that. Shen Yuan can be pretty clever. It is totally possible that he is just not thinking beyond his assumption here, though. Shen Yuan can also get caught up in his own ideas and emotions sometimes.

I think this would make a fun Alternate Canon / Canon Divergence AU: "Shen Yuan is completely wrong about Shang Qinghua being a transmigrator and has just revealed to Original Shang Qinghua that he knows what the man did. Uh oh."

ANYWAY! That's just the first assumption that Shen Yuan makes: Shang Qinghua is another transmigrator. Connected to this first assumption are a couple other assumptions about this other transmigrator that are both also really interesting.

The second assumption is this: "As the one who’d masterminded the event (or the logistics of it), Shang Qinghua was subject to the irresistible pressure of the plot[.]" (Ch5) Shen Yuan assumes that the plot forced Airplane Bro to smuggle these beasts into the Immortal Alliance Conference, much like he himself was forced to push Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss.

I would have to go check the Airplane extras to be sure, but we don't know that this is true. I do remember from the Airplane extras that the System would have been cool with Airplane Bro killing Mobei-Jun, who is arguably an incredibly important character to many PIDW plotlines. I've often interpreted this as Airplane Bro having far more freedom to make his own decisions. We the audience later confirm that the System forced Airplane Bro to stay with Cang Qiong Mountain Sect and to become the head disciple of An Ding Peak. We don't know for sure that the System put pressure on Shang Qinghua to make the invasion of the Immortal Alliance Conference happen. It's implied when Shang Qinghua gets the return home feature from the System that he doesn't see it often.

Shen Yuan doesn't know these things. Shen Yuan is assuming here their transmigration experiences are very similar. Shen Yuan doesn't really directly ask.

Personally, I do think that the System was involved somehow, even if Airplane Bro's consequences for failure or disobedience weren't nearly so dreadful. With a second transmigrator and their desires in the mix, and the beginning of the real plot with Luo Binghe, it's possible that System put more restrictions on Airplane Bro and locked him onto this path (freeing him after the original outline with the romance deviation is complete). I personally headcanon that Airplane Bro could have wriggled out of the Immortal Alliance Conference without any serious punishment from the System, because I think it's funny if Shen Yuan's most hated event could have suddenly not happened if only Airplane Bro had decided not to do it, but I think that that Airplane Bro didn't try to buck the System because 1) he was generally okay with keeping the plot on track and 2) he was unwilling to challenge Mobei-Jun by resisting any orders on this front. He chose to save Mobei-Jun, now he has to live with that.

Shen Yuan doesn't seriously take Airplane Bro to task for all of the deaths and injuries at the Immortal Alliance Conference. I think a large part of this is that Shen Yuan not-unreasonably assumes Airplane Bro was forced into doing it by the System and Shen Yuan simply doesn't really interrogate Airplane Bro thoroughly to be sure. I think he unconsciously wants this assumption to be true in part because that means there's someone who really understands what he was forced to do to Luo Binghe, he's invested in the Endless Abyss being necessary, but also because now he isn't alone generally and has someone to help him fake his death. Shen Yuan is first and foremost out to save his own skin at this point in the story.

To be clear, I think it's very reasonable for Shen Yuan (and the audience) to assume that another transmigrator is also being strictly forced to follow the plot. He doesn't know Shang Qinghua is the author at first. He doesn't know just how different their transmigration experiences have been. The assumption is valid. It's just not actually certain.

The third assumption by Shen Yuan here is what really stood out to me during my reread. It's what made me start thinking more seriously about this confrontation and its setup. Shen Yuan thinks to himself: "As the one who’d masterminded the event (or the logistics of it), Shang Qinghua was subject to the irresistible pressure of the plot—yet he hadn’t released the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python that should have starred in numerous scenes. This was suspicious in itself, but if you considered the possibility that he had failed to do this intentionally in order to hinder the development of the plot—to sever the tragedy of Luo Binghe’s fall into the Endless Abyss at its roots—it made sense." (Ch5)

In the original PIDW, a Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python appeared at the Immortal Alliance Conference, and opened the Endless Abyss with its spatial-rift-creating scream. Mobei-Jun does it in SVSSS, appearing hundreds of chapters early. (I wrote a long meta piece on how I think Luo Binghe's seal works, and why it had to be something or someone with space-manipulation powers breaking it. It's under the "luo binghe demonic seal" tag.)

Shen Yuan noticed that the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python failed to appear and also decided that Shang Qinghua was genuinely surprised by Mobei-Jun's appearance instead. Shen Yuan assumes here that the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python's absence was an intentional act on the Shang Qinghua transmigrator's part in order to stop Luo Binghe's fall into the Endless Abyss. This is a WILD assumption!

It's possible that Shang Qinghua just failed to get one. It's possible that there was one somewhere else in Jue Di Gorge, but they simply didn't run into the creature.

It's also possible that Shen Yuan is right. Maybe Airplane Bro decided to quietly remove the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python from the conference, single-handedly preventing 1) Luo Binghe's demonic seal from being broken and 2) the Endless Abyss from being opened. Maybe he thought the System would overlook this until it was too late? But something about this interference made Mobei-Jun suspicious and he showed up to investigate instead.

Or Shang Qinghua organized Mobei-Jun's appearance and interference somehow, because MBJ breaks the demonic seal cleanly in SVSSS, whereas PIDW Binghe needed the Xin Mo sword to completely remove the seal only partially broken by the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python.

We really don't know what Shang Qinghua was doing. Or what Mobei-Jun was doing.

I think this assumption is fascinating, because Airplane Bro being able to omit the BMRP kind of contradicts the assumption that he was forced by the System to ruin the conference. Not completely, of course. Shen Yuan may be assuming that Shang Qinghua's System-given quest spoke of beasts generally, rather than the BMRP specifically, and Shang Qinghua was trying to work futilely around the System's wording in order to prevent Luo Binghe's fall. It's possible that the System did not tell Shang Qinghua directly to ensure the opening of the Endless Abyss. The System may have only demanded that he assist in the demonic invasion generally.

But these assumptions still bump up against each other in interesting ways, to me, even if they don't directly contradict each other. Shen Yuan thinks that pushing Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss was demanded by the plot, but he also thinks Shang Qinghua's meddling with the BMRP could have stopped it somehow? Or that Shang Qinghua simply tried to stop it by removing a necesssary plot device and the System compensated with Mobei-Jun, because Luo Binghe's fall is an inevitable event? Shen Yuan thinks Shang Qinghua was forced to release beasts on the conference, causing a great deal of death and injury, but he also assumes that Shang Qinghua was able to pick the beasts on some level. Maybe he's assuming that Mobei-Jun picked the beasts and Shang Qinghua simply got rid of the BMRP somehow?

It makes way more sense that Mobei-Jun both collected the beasts and released them into the conference, using his spatial manipulation powers, and Shang Qinghua only helped with intelligence and keys to the security. Shen Yuan comments on how dangerous these creatures are. I really don't think that Shang Qinghua collected them personally or put them into Jue Di Gorge personally; I think that would have been pretty dangerous and that lots of people on An Ding Peak and beyond would have noticed during event planning and setup. And if Mobei-Jun did most of the work (and entered the conference properly himself in SVSSS, rather than just disappearing without being seen in PIDW, I assume), then I don't really see how Shang Qinghua could have done much of anything to stop a BMRP from getting in. Maybe he asked Mobei-Jun to avoid BMRPs, please, and that made Mobei-Jun suspicious?

My assumption here is honestly that Shen Yuan isn't thinking too hard about what Shang Qinghua is personally responsible for, because he just doesn't want to think about it. If this is Original Shang Qinghua, Shen Yuan can bring him to justice. If this is a fellow transmigrator, then Shen Yuan has an accomplice / friend. He's trying to move forward so he doesn't have to look back.

I don't think his assumption that Airplane Bro got rid of the BMRP on purpose is out of nowhere. I think it's pretty reasonable to assume another transmigrator, if there is one, might have been seeking to change the plot for the better somehow and the System didn't allow it. I just think this particular assumption is a little wild, because Shen Yuan doesn't really confirm it. (I haven't thoroughly reread the whole scene. I could be wrong about this.) Shen Yuan does not clearly confirm Shang Qinghua's intentions or motivations. Or Mobei-Jun's.

Shen Yuan and Airplane Bro go on to have a different transmigrator argument, distracted by the revelation that this is the author and not another reader, and Shen Yuan doesn't try to confirm his theories. He doesn't ask Shang Qinghua if his wild (if plausible) assumption is actually correct. Like Shen Yuan doesn't really want to know for certain whether or not they could have changed things.

But, anyway, wow, that assumption is an interesting and funny Canon Divergence AU plot! What if Airplane Bro quietly removed the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python from his traitorous invasion, and Mobei-Jun didn't show up instead, so Luo Binghe's seal simply didn't break and the Endless Abyss never opened? Would the System still demand that Shen Qingqiu push Luo Binghe into an Endless Abyss that isn't here? Would the System glitch? Would the System simply have to recalculate because it wasn't specific about what it needed Shang Qinghua to make happen here? Would the System just let Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe go back to Cang Qiong again?

RELEVANT QUOTATION (end of "Chapter 4: Conference" into the very beginning of "Chapter 5: Bai Lu"):

Shang Qinghua said nothing but sighed along with him. “Ah, Luo-shizhi was a heroic youth, such a pity. Those demons brought such disaster upon us; they are truly hateful. The whole world mourns with us. Shen-shixiong, my condolences.”

“If Shang-shidi truly felt it was a pity, this tragedy would not have occurred,” Shen Qingqiu said faintly.

At this, Shang Qinghua stiffened. After a moment, he seamlessly smoothed things over with a smile. “What does Shen-shixiong mean by that? Is he rebuking our An Ding Peak for inadequate administration? If so, Shidi should truly apologize.”

Shen Qingqiu refilled his teacup. “How was it inadequate? You clearly overexerted yourself. You even found demonic creatures like the ghost-head spiders, Nu Yuan Chan, and bone eagles—none of which ever enter the Human Realm of their own volition. How could Shixiong rebuke you for inadequacy?”

“Peak Lord Shen—to make such outrageous accusations!” Shang Qinghua shot to his feet, his face rapidly changing colors.

Shen Qingqiu put his hand on Shang Qinghua’s shoulder. “Why is Shang-shidi getting so excited?” he asked solemnly. “Let’s sit down and talk. Let me say something. Do you dare respond?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I have a clear conscience. Why would I fear a false accusation?” With a sneer, Shang Qinghua brushed away his hand.

“Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky?” asked Shen Qingqiu.

In that instant, it was like a bolt of lightning from the heavens had struck Shang Qinghua in the head, rendering him unable to speak.

After a long time, he managed to stammer out, “You… How do you know my ID?”

In that moment, it was like Shen Qingqiu had also been burnt to a crisp by the aforementioned bolt of lightning.

He’d only wanted to study Shang Qinghua’s reaction to this name to determine if he had also read Proud Immortal Demon Way—but given his reaction…he wasn’t just a reader, was he?!

After three long seconds, Shen Qingqiu jumped on him.

“It’s you?! How could I not know your ID after reading your entire fucking novel?! If you hadn’t let something slip when Mobei-Jun appeared, I really never would have known what hole you’d really crawled out of, ‘Great Master’!”

Volume 1, Chapter 4: Conference

The moment Shang Qinghua had seen Mobei-Jun suddenly appear, he had accidentally let out a “WTF!”

At the time, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t heard him particularly clearly, so he hadn’t paid it any mind. But afterward, the more he’d thought about it, the more suspicious he’d grown.

As the one who’d masterminded the event (or the logistics of it), Shang Qinghua was subject to the irresistible pressure of the plot—yet he hadn’t released the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python that should have starred in numerous scenes. This was suspicious in itself, but if you considered the possibility that he had failed to do this intentionally in order to hinder the development of the plot—to sever the tragedy of Luo Binghe’s fall into the Endless Abyss at its roots—it made sense.

Volume 1, Chapter 5: Bai Lu

#tossawary svsss #tossawary rereads svsss #fic ideas #shen yuan #shang qinghua #spoilers #pidw shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #luo binghe demonic seal #black moon rhinoceros python #long post

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grandline-fics · 6 months

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Shifting Focus

DESCRIPTION: The moment they began to see you differently

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Shanks, Kid, Smoker | Sanji, Law

WORDS: 2,850

A/N: Another part of this in honour of reaching 500 followers. This was my first time writing for Smoker so here's hoping you all enjoy!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

---------------

SHANKS

Everyone knew Shanks was a flirt, a laidback charmer who always had a smile and a wink at the ready for the next pretty face he came across. No-one was meant to really take it seriously, to see anything that happened to be more than what it was, a fleeting moment of enjoyment for both sides. Serious feelings never truly came into play, it was easier that way given that he was always on the move. To let anyone believe he was the settling down type would have been cruel and he didn’t find any enjoyment in hurting people needlessly, unless they were his enemy of course. Everyone in the crew were more than used to his mannerisms, yourself included. You could understand his worldview on the matter however you never entertained him when he chose to flirt with you. Something that he finally started to notice and when he did, he couldn’t let it go.

“Do I repulse you?” He asked suddenly one evening causing you to choke on your coffee. Your body tensed and you forced the liquid down your throat, wincing at the painful burn it caused and sharp tightness in your throat. You’d needed it to stay awake for your night shift but after that, you set the mostly untouched mug aside. Looking to your side you saw your captain staring at you intently, a small pout playing at his lips making you believe he was picking his words carefully to seem like he was keeping the conversation light. However underneath the joking you could tell there was a real question there.

“If you repulsed me Cap, I wouldn’t have joined your crew, now would I?” You answered, looking back down to the sea chart in your hands, needing to keep track of any notable features coming into view. “What is it you really want to ask me?”

“I’ve noticed something about you.” Shanks began, scowling when you looked away from him to continue your work. You were always so task-oriented and levelheaded that even when you were joking with another member of the crew, you were still focused on what was needed to be done. Finally you looked up at Shanks again, eyebrows raised slightly to invite him to keep talking. “You don’t flirt back.”

For a moment you had to think about what Shanks was getting at but finally you let out a laugh and lightly rolled your eyes. So he was in that kind of mood today. For a moment he almost had you by making you believe he was asking you a semi-serious question. Still smiling in amusement you shook your head and turned to go inside when a wind started to pick up. If you lost the charts in your hand it wouldn’t have been good. What you weren’t expecting was Shanks to follow you, with a sigh you settled down at your desk and sat back to stare at your captain who clearly wasn’t finished with this joke and you weren’t going to get any peace until you indulged him. “Am I being reprimanded for my lack of flirtation towards you, Cap? I’m surprised it’s affected you so much given how you’re never without company.”

“You flirt with the others on board.” Shanks pointed out, not really knowing why it was getting to him so much. Ever since he’d realised you’d joke around and tease the others on board but not him, it just kept gnawing at him. Shanks knew he shouldn’t get so irritated by it all but he just couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer until he was leaning of the edge of your desk, staring down at your calm expression. “So why not me?”

“I flirt with the others because it’s not serious and they know that.” You shrugged lightly, leaning back to regard your captain, a smile slowly pulling at your lips. “You, however are a different story, Cap.” With a breathy sigh you rose from your seat and Shanks’ earlier position meant you were now standing mere inches away from him, not quite touching but close enough for the warmth of your body to radiate into his. “If I gave in and flirted with you…I don’t think I’d be able to stop it as just a joke. I don’t have the same self-control that you do.” You murmured, tilting your head up slightly so your breath could softly dance against his skin. Satisfied that that should be enough for your Captain’s need for the joke to end you took a step back and grinned before sitting down at your desk.

With your presence no longer engulfing his, Shanks blinked and immediately wanted more. More of that rush, that spark, more of you. However fate had other plans when Lucky Roux called for him and he had to do his duties as the Captain. Sharply letting out a huff of annoyance, Shanks reluctantly left your side to head onto the deck. When he reached the doorway, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and see your attention already drawn back to your work. Yeah, this was far from over.

KID

There was never a dull moment on the Victoria Punk. Even on the calm days at sea, the heavy steps of the Captain and the usual tone of conversation was carried at a volume louder than some other ships were used to. But that was what you liked about it. It was only when the ship was deathly quiet outside of sleeping hours that any of you felt the need to worry. The seas were calm and laughter surrounded you all as you sat in the living quarters with plenty of drink to see you all through to morning if you wanted.

Currently you were all playing a game with the bounty posters you’d all seemed to collect. It was a simple enough form of ‘Kiss, Marry, Kill’ by selecting three posters from the pile however each person that had to answer ended up getting drawn into a fierce debate about their answers. If you didn’t want to answer on your turn however, you had to drink. It was an empty punishment since all of you were drinking happily regardless.

“Look I stand by my answer okay?!” Wire shouted, unable to keep the grin from his face knowing the argument was in good spirits. “I had the worst draw out of them all so far, you guys have been getting it easy.”

“Just hurry up and pick my three okay?” You grinned, sitting up from your lounged position to get a better look for your turn. Wire reached over to the pile of posters lying face down on the table and picked three at random, slowly flipping them over to reveal Blackbeard, Franky, and Bartolomelo. Grinning you sat back down into your previous position. “Kiss Bartolomelo, Marry Franky, Kill Blackbeard. Easy.”

“Not that I’d argue with the decisions, you just made up your mind so quickly…” Killer noted, a grin in his voice as his face remained hidden by his mask. You rolled your eyes and grinned.

“Nothing to think about, Blackbeard is…ugh” you suppressed a shudder at the mere thought of the Emperor. “Franky is dependable and skilled, and fun from what we saw when we allied with them so marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“You didn’t think about Bartolomelo as marriage material?” Kid asked with a grin and you laughed up at your Captain who you’d been leaning against for a majority of the night.

“No way, he’s a major Strawhat fanboy. I’d be competing against that entire crew for his attention, sadly we just weren’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, you’re real heartbroken about it I see.” Kid laughed along with you and the others. The game continued for another while, some of the crew stopping from being too drunk to stay awake while others began to head for their quarters. Those remaining all agreed this would be the last round and it meant you were to deal out three posters for Kid.

You were still far too comfortable lounging against your Captain so you quickly reached over, fumbling you flipped over the first three you could get your hands on and flopped back before even seeing who he had to choose from. From the sound of the stifled laughter you could tell his options were going to be good. With an anticipated grin you turned on your side and pushed yourself up with your elbow only to become surprised to see your bounty on the table along with Buggy the Clown and Nico Robin. You couldn’t help but become curious about what your Captain would pick about you although you supposed as long as he didn’t pick you to kill it was all fine, it was just a game after all.

Kid suddenly felt tense and couldn’t help but look away from your printed face to the physical version of you. The you he suddenly became all too aware of. You’d been part of the crew forever and he’d never needed to see you as anything other than a valued member like the others. What if he said something that made you uncomfortable. But if he didn’t play then you could misread that too and make things worse. Fuck, why was he overthinking this? He had to finish the game and hope nothing more was said about it. “Kill the clown and kiss Robin.” He muttered quickly before looking away and draining the last of the alcohol in his mug.

“Aww you wanna marry me?” You cooed, the smile growing wider on your face. With everyone satisfied with a good ending to the game, the crew began to clear up their drinks and the bounty posters and move to turn in for the night. You got up with a groan and stretched out your arms, finally feeling the need to rest too. With a yawn you turned to Kid who was still sitting and smiled softly. “Not heading to bed, Kid?”

“Yeah, heading soon.” He grumbled lost in his own thoughts that were now occurring to him and you tilted your head, a frown falling on your lips. Quickly Kid realised you were going to worry and he recovered enough to smirk at you. “We need our rest, right? We’ve got a wedding to plan huh?” He forced the joke out, relieved to see you laugh and leave while wishing the rest in the room goodnight. When you were gone, Kid glared at Killer who was sitting far too relaxed for his liking. “When did you add their bounty to the pile, Kil?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and you have no way of proving it.”

SMOKER

“Vice Admiral?” You paused in the middle of the G-5 Base corridor when you spotted the base commander leaning against the wall with his office just a few feet away. At the sound of your call he made no sign that he’d heard you. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone of his rank to get lost in thought especially if there were certain higher ups breathing down their neck or certain pirates occupying their minds. Adjusting the documents in your hands you approached the base commander. “Vice Admiral Smoker?” You asked again and moved to lightly touch his arm to get his attention.

At the same time, Smoker turned sharply and knocked into your hand causing you to drop your files in surprise. As the papers fluttered to the floor you kept your gaze on Smoker, concern growing in your eyes. His usual steely gaze seemed to have dimmed and you noticed the small tremor in his otherwise imposing frame. As one of the base’s medical staff your critical, scrutinising stare was pinpointing all that stood out to you. Since you were dealing with the commander himself, you felt you had to be somewhat nicer and couldn’t just order him to rest. “Are you sick?” You asked and immediately his stare sharpened at the implication.

“I’m fine.” Smoker’s answer was gruff as to be expected but you could hear the slight shake that could have been missed had you not been listening out for it. When he saw you weren’t fooled he finally took a proper look at you and through his mind that was getting foggier by the second he managed to recognise who you were and what department you worked for on the base. Inwardly he cursed his bad luck. He’d been trying to get to the safety of his office but a dizzy spell hit him hard and he had to stop to catch his breath just mere seconds before you’d approached him. Smoker didn’t want to be babied, getting sick was a rarity for him. He just wanted to get to his room and sit there in peace until he felt a little better. No one else had noticed his state all day, why did he get cursed with bad luck like this at the final moment? He just needed to get rid of you before you tried to take a closer look at him. “Aren’t you going to pick up your documents?”

“Well since you're not sick and are partly responsible for me dropping them. You can surely help me lift them, right Vice Admiral?” Your question was so sweet and innocent but still Smoker glared at the challenge in your eyes. In any of his previous interactions with you, you’d seemed so reserved and quiet but now he could see another side to you. With a grunt, Smoker lowered himself to the floor, trying to fight the wave of dizziness and aches rolling down his body. Mentally he cursed you as you smoothly crouched down and started collecting sheets at a pace far faster than he was able to. When Smoker was focused on the task you’d given him, you struck. Your hand touched his forehead before he could react and you scowled at the man in disapproval. “You’re burning up with a fever. You’re going to your room and resting.”

Your order left no room for disagreement and before Smoker’s mind could truly catch up, he found himself walking into his room with you. When he was lying on his bed you set about gathering what was needed to help his fever and aches before making yourself comfortable at his desk to fix the scattered documents into their right files again. From the small layer of dust gathering on the surface you could tell Smoker didn’t use it much, being a man of action over paperwork. “You don’t need to stay, I’m fine.” Smoker grumbled.

“The second I leave, you’ll rest for an hour at most and call yourself cured. I’m not leaving until I’m happy you’re actually fine.”

“An hour is all I need.”

“Didn’t know you had a medical degree.” You noted dryly. “Do I call you Doctor Vice Admiral Smoker or Vice Admiral Doctor Smoker?” It surprised you when Smoker’s deep laugh rumbled through the air and a small smile graced your lips at the sound. Perhaps he should laugh more, it was a nice sound and it would help make him more approachable to some people.

“You can call me whatever you want.” Smoker mumbled, it wasn’t often people stood up to him like this and he had to admit it was refreshing to see. Unable to fight it, Smoker yawned as his body was beginning to give in to its need for rest. When you heard the telltale signs of him falling asleep you let out a sigh of relief that the medicine you’d given him was started to take effect.

In the early hours of the morning, Smoker stirred at the soft feeling of fingers lightly running through his hair. It was a comforting feeling and still under the haze of sleep that hadn’t fully left him, his mind hadn’t properly caught up so he let himself relax into the feeling. Reaching up he curled his fingers around your wrist holding your hand in place as his eyes slowly opened and met your face.

“Your fever’s finally regulated.” You informed him gently, keeping mindful of the time and not wanting to speak too loudly. “If you promise to drink more fluids and stay in bed until at least late morning I can leave.”

“I promise, thanks Doc.” Smoker mumbled with a half-smile, stifling a small yawn and letting his eyes fall closed again but when he didn’t hear you leave he opened his eyes again to see you still standing there. “Problem?”

“Um, kinda need my hand back…or did you want me to stay?” you laughed softly, trying to hold back the grin when Smoker tensed and quickly let go of your wrist, allowing you to leave. “Remember your promise.” You reminded him as you left, smiling to yourself as you left to your room with the memory of Smoker’s blushing, embarrassed expression fresh in your mind. You had to admit it was pretty cute to see.

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lowkeyrobin · 6 months

Note

HII so I was reading your who you write for and saw you write for Charlie Bushnell, so I was wondering if I could get like reader and Charlie at like the an interview???

Thank you -🍄

hell yeah of course 🙏🙏 ; thank you 🍄anon, hope you enjoy 🫶🫶 ; i dunno how but this got a little off topic?? I apologize

CHARLIE BUSHNELL ; the interview

summary ; youre a journalist, he's an actor

warnings ; language, little cringe kissing scene (totally sfw dw)

disclaimers ; I said "scandalous ankles" because back in the olden days ankles and showing any skin was considered scandalous, for anyone who didn't know. reader is described to be not into fitness stuff, also don't mind me not knowing shit about fitness/weightlifting

word count ; 883

masterlist

"Hi, welc-hum inside." You smile, waving to Charlie as he enters the room. You then cringe at yourself in embarrassment. "Sorry, hi, welcome." You awkwardly chuckle, "I apologize, my words are all tangled today"

"You're good" He waves, a comforting smile on his face. He wears a black t-shirt with a logo in the corner and design on the back, paired with some jorts and sneakers like he just came from the gym. You didn't mind though, you urged your guests to come comfortable over casual.

Video interviews that weren't in front of a live crowd were the best for both of you, thank God. Meeting this Godsend of a man nearly gave you a heart attack. Just looking at his gorgeous eyes and his perfect features, nothing was wrong with him whatsoever. He was genuinely a 10/10.

He sits down in the guest chair across from yours, watching you sift through a desk a few feet away, looking for something. Your dress pants rise at the ankles every time you make a step, revealing more of your scandalous ankles, covered by socks.

You finally sit down, apologizing for taking so long to find your notebook where you held a few questions and conversation starters. The cameras begin rolling, and you introduce yourself and Charlie as per usual.

"So, what's it like being on set, with all the cameras, lights, props, and green screens? What are the action scenes like?"

Charlie lightly smiles as he gives you an answer, using his hands to talk a little bit. He seemed a little tense and nervous, but you didn't point it out or blame him, it took you years to be fully comfortable where you sat.

"What even are you? Cause like, you're an interviewer but also a journalist, what do you prefer being called?" The curly haired boy asks you.

You shrug, "Journalist, I guess. Interviewer could be put like, inside the circle of journalism, I'd say. I'm a journalist before I'm an interviewer"

He nods, giving you a gorgeous smile that you had to quickly look away for. You discreetly hide your flushed face, looking down at your notebook.

You write down some memorable quotes as you sit and chat with him, bringing up some interesting conversation and learning more about being on set and the production behind media.

After the cameras are off, you thank him and invite him to stay for some aftertalk and lunch. You came in with a large bowl of taco salad you needed to finish before it went bad and were offering it to anyone who wanted it. He accepts the offer, staying back in the break room with you to eat some of that salad you'd brought in. In his words, it was very much better than whatever fast food he was going to go get before returning home.

Your conversation quickly turns into one regarding music and working out, although you weren't too into fitness, the occasional jog here and there keeping you healthy, apparently.

You both stand up, setting your bowls and forks in the dishwasher to get them cleaned. You stand against the counter as he leans his hand against it a couple feet away.

He pulls up his t-shirt sleeve, flexing his arm to show off his muscles. He's trying to impress you, mostly, but you had asked how frequently he worked out. Not his fault.

"Usually lift about 145"

You nod, paying more attention to his face than his muscles. Not exactly your question, but you'd take it.

"You okay?" He asks, seeing you zoned out staring at him.

"Yeah, sorry-"

"Am I that handsome to you?" He asks, lightly teasing you.

"Wh- I mean, hey now-"

He lightly giggles, stepping forward a bit.

You stare into his brown eyes, colored like a dark chocolate mocha. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, seeing your eyes almost glimmer as they stare into his.

He's just a guy, you're an interviewer, a journalist. This is weird, isn't it? Is it not?

"May I?..." He whispers, looking down at your lips, then up at your eyes.

Triangle Theory.

You nod, a soft smile painting your face.

He quickly embraces your lips with his, hands resting on your waist. You melt into his kiss, your bodies tied together. He picks you up, hands resting behind your thighs, placing you on the counter.

You quickly pull away, hands on his shoulders as he stands between your legs. "Okay, what the fuck? Do that again"

He smiles, looking up at you. His arms are now loosely wrapped around your hips and waist area, his curls falling into place like dominoes.

"You're an interesting one"

"Says you, actor guy"

"Don't try and play me at my own game"

You open your mouth to speak, but shut yourself up, seeing the smug look on his face.

He holds your left hand in his right, a slight panic running through both of your heads as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb.

You speak up now, finding your stomach filled with butterflies.

"You make me want to grab a dictionary and manually find the words I'm looking for to describe you and how attractive that was."

He lightly laughs, kissing your hand.

"Whatever you say, journalist"

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #charlie bushnell x reader #🍄 anon

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littlegrapejuice · 19 days

Text

Il Predestinato | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Meeting Louis Tomlinson and Charles winning the Italian GP at Monza on the same day? What more could you ask for?

Author's Note: as both a 1d and f1 fan, how could i not write smth ab louis being in the ferrari garage for the weekend🤭 also those pics fucking annoyed me bc tumblr was being a bitch so i just made a collage or else i would've thrown my phone through the window

Louis. William. Tomlinson. Was in the Ferrari garage for the Italian Grand Prix at Monza. You had been ecstatic to hear the news from Charles back on Friday, and had been thinking all weekend about how to act once you would be in front of him. However, you were as nervous as excited to meet your favourite singer and it didn't help when Charles's PR manager told you both that Louis had arrived on Sunday.

Charles was requested during a certain time slot to speak with him, which he was glad to do so compared to previous celebrities that he had met as Louis was someone you held in high regards, meaning that Charles was intrigued to see why.

You didn't know whether this was the best moment for you to try and talk to Louis, or if you should wait for the start of the race, or even until after the race to meet him. For now, you were simply engrossed in a conversation with Arthur about the Formula 3 and Formula 2 races that had happened a couple hours ago, discussing the latest winners.

You knew Charles was on the other side of the garage with Louis, probably having small talk and taking pictures, but you were unaware of the conversation they were now actually having.

"Saying it once again but it's good to have you here today with us," Charles told Louis.

"My pleasure to have been invited honestly," the singer replied. "Being in the Ferrari garage at Monza is crazy, massive thank you to your team. I'll be rooting for you today, mate."

"Thanks for the support." Charles glanced at you then thought for a second about how to start the topic, until he decided to just wing it. "Is it alright if I introduce you to someone while you're here? My girl's a big fan of yours and I know she's been thinking all weekend about how to stage your meeting."

"Yeah, no problem." Louis nodded with a smile, always down to meet a fan. "Bring her there, I absolutely don't mind at all."

And this is what Charles did, as he called out your name with his signature accent that you had grown to love over the years. Expecting to see him alone, you didn't think Charles would call you while he was still talking with Louis. Therefore, you hesitated for a second about whether to flee your boyfriend and favourite singer. However, when Louis turned to face whoever Charles had called, he gave you such a warm smile that there was no way for you to ignore the man now. So you calmly walked towards them, deeply breathing in and out as a means to compose yourself.

"Great of you to join us", Charles told you with a smile. "I'll leave you two alone for a bit and come back later, okay?"

"Alright man," Louis replied with a nod. "See you later!"

"I- what?" Charles where the fuck are you going? You thought as your boyfriend just waved at you before going to replace you in the conversation you had been having with his brother. No turning back now...

Louis Tomlinson, former member of One Direction and now in a successful solo career with two albums that led to sold out tours, was in front of you. He didn't know whether to talk first, but decided upon it as he was used to the state you were starting to be in.

"Hi love," he gently began. "You alright?"

"Yeah, hmm... sorry, oh my God..." You were so embarrassed right now, not even able to form a proper sentence in front of your favourite artist. "Hi! Yes I'll be fine, I think."

"It's just me, little ol' Louis. We're simply having a chat so nothing to panic about, yeah?"

Sharply inhaling, your answer was a nod, before you slowly exhaled. Okay, this is only Louis Tomlinson. This is my favourite singer, but we're chilling. All good, you repeated in your head.

"Is it fine if I hug you?" You eventually asked as you felt more relaxed.

"Of course love," he agreed before opening his arms. "Come 'ere."

People often said that Louis hugged his fans like a mother did, as a way to protect them and to show how much he cared for them. You didn't think it was entirely true until now.

This was probably one of the most reassuring hugs you've ever had, as you just felt calm and serene. Your mind suddenly stopped stressing over the fact that you were hugging the Louis Tomlinson, and you were now just enjoying the contact. Louis could sense you had become less stiff during the hug, and thought it fine to slowly remove his arms from around you.

"Feeling better now?" He inquired as he kept his hands on your shoulders for a few seconds before putting them back in his pockets.

"Yes, thank you. Sorry, I thought I would be ready to meet you but I guess my brain wasn't entirely agreeing."

"All good, don't be sorry about that." He smiled again, and the only words that came to your mind to describe it were gentle and warm like the sun. "So, what can you tell me about you?"

"Oh, hmm, I don't really know..."

"Any favourite songs?" He suggested with a teasing tone.

"Absolutely, yeah, of course!" And that was it, you were quickly back to your usual self as Louis himself was allowing you to rant about him. "So, from the first album I'd say Only The Brave. Could've made it longer", you added with a laugh, "but still an amazing song. And for the second one, I think Holding On To Heartache. Makes me cry everytime I listen to it, but it's always worth it."

"Wow, do you not like any happier songs of mine?" Louis chuckled. Damn, you made Louis Tomlinson laugh.

"Of course I do!" You retorted. "Silver Tongues is a masterpiece, great way to end the shows. And also every song you wrote for the band is a banger so there's that too."

"You went to one of the shows then?" He wondered. "I hope you did, wouldn't want my new favourite fan to have missed tour."

"I did, yes." Being jokingly called his 'new favourite fan' shouldn't make you blush like it did, but hey! This is still your favourite singer in front of you. "The Paris show, for both tours. I'm never getting over it, feels like I imagined it all."

"Paris, wow that takes me back. Those Saturdays lights man, they were insane."

"That's how you know you always have to come back there every tour, yeah?" You teased with a smile, over the moon when Louis confirmed that France would never leave his concert map. "I'm so happy you put this show on the live album by the way, that's like a fever dream to be somewhat featured on it."

"You liked it?" He asked, to which you nodded. "Got the album alright?"

"Oh, I didn't buy it yet but I'm planning on getting the CD don't worry."

"Forget that", Louis told you. "I'll get you one along with the vinyl and the whole package, yeah? Tell you what, I'll get in touch with your boyfriend's manager to send you all that properly. Sounds good?"

"Yes, oh my God, absolutely. Thank you so much!"

"Least I can do for you, we'll stay in contact." A look behind you notified Louis that Charles was walking towards the both of you, probably meaning that goodbyes were in order. "Very nice to meet you, I hope we'll see each other again."

"Thanks for taking the time to speak with me, I really appreciate it. Enjoy the race!"

Sharing a last quick hug, Louis left you so that he could go mingle somewhere else, before you felt a new pair of arms hugging you from behind.

"Sooo, how was meeting your favourite singer?" Charles asked.

"Amazing, thank you so much. I don't think I would've come talk to him by myself," you admitted.

"I'd be a monster and the worst boyfriend ever if I didn't push you to him. Who knows when you'd have another opportunity like that?"

"True. Now there's only one thing that could make me even happier than meeting Louis," you told Charles.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah," you nodded. "You on that top step after the race."

"That I can do, I guess."

"You guess?" You scoffed in reply. "Louis Tomlinson is in that garage, so you better win this Leclerc."

"I will", Charles assured you with determination in his eyes. "Do not worry even once about me, I will."

.....

And he did. He won in Monaco, his home race. He won in Monza, his team's home race. In. The. Same. Season.

You couldn't be prouder of him. From the first lap, you had been holding your breath when Charles managed to squeeze into P2 while Oscar overtook Lando.

Since then, it had been a rollercoaster of emotions for you and Charles's family with whom you were watching. You had been especially nervous when Charles got undercut by Lando, but it got better when you witnessed your boyfriend taking back the lead of the race later on.

You were scared when you saw the gap between Charles and Oscar getting shorter. Oscar had relatively new hard tyres compared to Charles who had his for the last forty laps or so.

But everything ended well. Charles crossed the finish line, P1 at the chequered flag. A Ferrari victory at home, at the temple of speed.

From then on, everything was a blur. You were a crying mess as Arthur hugged you. Everyone was cheering around you, celebrating a second victory of the Prince of Ferrari at Monza, five years later.

You didn't realise when Arthur pulled your hand and brought you with him to see Charles, the entire Ferrari team coming along. And when he drove his car to the P1 spot, everyone cheered once again. You knew you were far from being the loudest, still too emotional to actually process what happened.

Charles ran to his team, noticing you and Arthur in the middle of the red ocean. He hugged you both; happy tears pouring down everyone's cheeks.

The rest was another blur until you were looking up, with dried tears on your face, at Charles. As he had promised you, he was on the top step of the podium. Victory looked good on him, it always did. He seemed so relaxed, mouthing along to the Monegasque anthem, before the Italian one resonated and then all hell broke loose. Celebrations were in order, both for Charles and Ferrari, who had once again made Italy proud.

.....

You had been the proudest though, you assured Charles the next morning when you woke up in each other's arms. You both stayed in bed longer than usual, just basking in the peace and quiet you were getting compared to yesterday's fervour.

"It still feels like a dream," Charles told you.

"Dreams are made to be achieved", you softly replied. "You're making yours come true, as you should."

"I hope we are on the right path again now."

"Of course you are." Truth be told, you were waiting to see what would happen during the next races to be sure of it, but if Charles was trusting his team right now, then so did you. "This was such a wonderful weekend."

"Because I won or because you met Louis?" Charles asked with a laugh. "Which happened thanks to me by the way, you coward."

"Because you won, don't worry. Although Louis was a great bonus," you added. "I'm sure he was your lucky charm, you should invite him again."

"And lose my girlfriend to him?" He scoffed at your suggestion. "No way. You are my lucky charm, the only one I need."

"I'll be there for all your next wins then," you confirmed. Whenever you need another one."

A comfortable silence then took place between the two of you, before Charles broke it:

"Would you rather be at his concert or a race?"

"Charles!" You exclaimed as you thought about how ridiculous he sounded.

"Would you, though?"

"Maybe..." Maybe not, you mentally added.

"You're kidding?"

"Unless you keep asking stupid questions like that, yes I'm kidding. Races can't be changed but it's easy to decide that I'll go see him elsewhere," you explained. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite."

"Favourite artist?"

"I can do favourite pianist, but that's it."

"I'll take that, I guess. Right now, I'm the one in bed with you so..."

"And I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else", you said. "I love you, Prince of Ferrari, Il Predestino; wait no, Il Pres- no... Il Predestinato! Is that it?" You asked, a look of hope in your eyes.

"It is yeah," Charles confirmed with a chuckle. "Let's be glad I'm not dating you for your Italian."

"Yeah, yeah... you love me too much to care about how shit my Italian is."

"I do love you very much", he replied before kissing you. "Even if you obsess over British men who disbanded almost a decade ago."

"Hey! That's low, and mean!"

Charles apologised as you threatened to punch him for his previous words, laughter now echoing in your hotel room. Those were moments you would never trade for anything else, not when you had the opportunity to witness Charles's highs after so many lows. His happiness made yours, and you would stay by his side for as long as he'll want you.

It's you and me until the end.

..........

Anyone remembers when i said i had no idea if/when I'd ever write for a driver again🧍🏻‍♀️ well that was acc quick to happen lmao

Ig it's a bit addictive to write when you easily find material that helps create the content you wanna put out here - not only did charles win fucking monza but louis was there so that felt like a sign from the universe and i had no choice but to comply

Fun fact, otb and hoth truly are my fav songs from each album (i even have a tat in relation to hoth bc this song means sm to me and i fucking sobbed when i heard it live) + i did went to the paris show for each tour

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed it and ig this time i really don't know when I'll write again - maybe next gp depending on who wins and/or what happens during the lil break so bye bye for now❤️

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #louis tomlinson #one direction #1d

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seiwas · 10 months

Text

₊˚⊹。if you're ready (let me) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.3k

summary: you find the other thing to surprise gojo with on his birthday.

contains: f!reader, 18+ nsfw, reader is in lingerie, lead up to cunnilingulus (mentions pussy once)

a/n: a follow-up to the col lingerie fic, ‘take my time (i’ll spend it all on you)’, might be one of the more explicit ones i’ve written (which i don’t write often! so please be kind!); title inspired by ‘if you let me - alina baraz’; happy birthday to our boy ♡!!

collection masterlist: conversations on love +04a (extra). take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) <- you are here -> 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things that come to mind when you think about what to get Gojo for his birthday:

A couple of his favorite sweets (predictable and too frequent—he just bought a box of them last week); something customized and redesigned, maybe his blindfold? (which, you backtrack to realize, you had already gifted him for his 21st birthday years ago); answered prayers—requests that he continuously and ‘jokingly’ hints at (which, you also realize—he’s only really whined about two).

Two requests, with one he’s already walked in on months ago, spoiling your what-would-have-been birthday gift.

So, this leaves you with the other one—

The only other request. A repeat of something you did by accident more than a decade ago.

Except, now, on purpose, you know that Gojo’s asking for something entirely different, far from innocent.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you bite the inside of your cheek. You hold it—

One.

The lace on the hem of your bra cups tickles your ribcage—it’s softer, but far more embellished than the pink one you’ve been (over)using. A gift from Gojo (“just a little something,” he said, handing it over to you one morning).

Two.

You rub your thighs together, white suspender straps gliding against your skin; the metal attachments on the lace garters pull taut, holding them in place.

Three.

Goosebumps litter your arms, little dots surfacing; it’s hard not to feel nervous when you know what awaits you—your heartbeat racing.

When you open your eyes as you exhale, breath shaky and vision a little hazy, you focus on Gojo—sitting on the floor, back slouched against his couch with an impossibly handsome smirk on his mouth. His lips are upturned, pink and curled at the corner, but bitten, just the lower bit.

You lock eyes, sleet white framing a darkening blue sky.

Something stirs in your belly when he shifts in his seat, the sleeves of his shirt tightening as he rests his arms wide open on luxurious gray cotton—an invite towards him.

An invite to—

“Maybe you should sit on my face again.”

The memory makes your face burn.

You slipped the first time it happened, tripping backwards over Tsumiki’s books stacked up on the floor. At 20, you were far from rusty, reflexes quick as you caught hold of the edge of the couch—the couch that Gojo also happened to be napping on.

There was an attempt: to balance yourself, only for your body to sink, gravity acting against your control. So, you landed right there, buttcheek covered by the fabric of your skirt, sitting straight on Gojo’s nose.

That incident had buried itself so deep inside your mind you were confident Gojo would never bring it up again unless you did.

But, of course he does, and when you least expect it too—by the counter of a gelato store, licking the dessert on hand while waiting for the cashier to punch the cost in.

And when he wets his lips now, a glimpse of pink swiping over his skin quickly, almost discreetly, you’re reminded of the same feeling you had back then—

—heated up, nervous; shy.

You move closer, his eyes straying lower, going over the pretty white number you have on; the one he got you.

And you wonder, if there’s vanity in the hunger he’s regarding you with, how what you’re wearing reminds you so much of him: white as the strands that fall into his eyes, playful but delicate at the same time.

The lace details on this set are more intricate, outlined with iridescent gray—an almost silver that shines blue when light hits; with sheer net as the base fabric, floral appliqués are carefully positioned on the bra and panty fronts, supported by ribbings that go down to the hem.

It’s a full-set, garters with the suspender belt and everything. Sexy but still soft—just what he likes.

And you’d be a lot less embarrassed walking up to him now if it weren’t for the single, most nerve-wracking anticipation: that you’ll be sitting on his face, for real, later. and maybe from now on.

He pats his lap, motioning for you to settle on it.

Your knees buckle under you when you reach him, holding onto his shoulders as you go down. And when you settle on his lap, straddling him, he reaches for your bra straps, pulling it off to the side.

The kisses he lands on each of your shoulders are soft, but his lips lay plump against your skin—a faint ‘smack’ sounding with each one. Your breath hitches when he goes lower, lightly sucking on the skin of your chest. It’s not enough to bruise, not yet, but a tightening in your stomach tells you you want it to.

He’s trying to get you to relax, you know—with how he’s gripping your hips, rubbing circles onto the skin underneath his fingertips.

When his mouth crawls up your neck, licking, you throw your head back—a sharp intake of breath as you release it heavily. Your fingers rake through his undercut, grasping onto fists of white. Then you shiver, gasping as trembles ripple through you when his lips glide past your ears.

“Toru,”

He pulls away, blinking at you, half-lidded; you blink back twice.

“You ready?” his eyes search for yours, your chin perched between his thumb and index finger—he tilts you to him.

The smile on his face is teasing, but gentle. And if you say no because you’re too nervous, you know he won’t force you.

(Even if the hardness in his sweatpants is pressing intently against you).

You try to shake off the nerves, nodding your head as you take in another breath, preparing to push yourself up by his shoulders.

It’s odd to think about how he used to feel what you do right now; how he used to be led, guided—reassured; how he’s doing what you do when you try to get him to calm down.

“We won’t do this if you don’t want to,” he bends his knees up, letting you lean on it as he cages you in.

But that’s the thing, you do want to—you’re just failing to see how this can be more for him than it is for you. That, and what if you get the position wrong? Can’t balance yourself properly? Lean into him too much and knock him out completely?

“I do, it’s just…” you sigh, running your palms over his chest. You fail to meet his eyes.

“If you’re shy now, I’ve seen it all before. And I always tell you, you taste de—”

You hit him before you catch how he’s watching you, chuckling—tender and knowing. He takes your hand, kissing each of your fingertips.

The fact that he’s being this patient, this considerate on what you want is a testament to his restraint; he has to know that you want this too, if the wet spot on his sweatpants is any indication from you.

So, you peer back at him, smile growing wide before landing a small peck to the tip of his nose.

He guides you when you stand, lips grazing your thighs as you let him pass through them. Then he leans back, neck supported by the edge of the couch as he tilts his head up. The moment your knees press into the cushion, dipping as you climb over him, he holds your ankles.

It tickles when he kisses his way down to the arches of your feet, but it’s a nice companion—a temporary relief—to the heat rising in your belly.

You hold on to the back of the couch, readjusting your knees as you find the right position to sit back down. And when you figure it out, angling yourself until you’re settled right over him—the heat of you is pulsing.

He looks dazed between your legs, staring straight into you—the see-through net hiding absolutely nothing. Pussy-whipped, as they say.

You giggle as you stare down at his face, anticipation rushing to your cheeks; it shakes him out of his reverie, prompting him to look at you instead. His breaths are warm against your thighs but cool against your core, and when he trails his lips higher and higher until he reaches it, landing a kiss on the fabric separating you, you think your knees might give out.

The sight of Gojo smirking while being sat on stirs something within you—the creeping realization of how much it turns you on.

And he can tell, grabbing hold of your butt and squeezing the flesh, kneading. The fabric separating you is pushed to the side, giving him a clearer view of everything; he sighs then moans, low.

But before he pushes you down, bringing you closer to his mouth, he smiles cheekily.

“Best birthday gift, baby.”

thank you notes: to @stellamancer bc the idea of col reader sitting on gojo's face came up in convo some time ago!! + @augustinewrites for supporting and enabling me ♡

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #shotorus.writes #col #gojo x you #gojo x yn #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n #rated

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blueclownsworld · 7 months

Text

"They're mine." — Diluc (Genshin Impact) x gender neutral reader

Diluc swears he isn't jealous. There's no reason to be, considering nothing's going on between the two of you. You just work at the same tavern, occasionally talking to each other during quiet hours. That's all, so why was he feeling like this?

You were serving beer to a group of men, most of them half-drunk already. You didn't really mind their flirty comments, considering they were just some sweet compliments regarding your looks.

Someone else did mind though. Diluc's eyes were like glued to you as you talked with the men. He wasn't jealous, no, how could he? But for some reason he felt fire burning inside of him, fire that wanted to burn those men. But he wasn't jealous.

"They want another round, sir." your polite tone snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I'll serve them, take my spot for a moment", Diluc replied with low voice, strange flame burning in his eyes as he looked at the table of men.

"You sure, sir? It's usually my job to serve customers", you asked for confirmation, something about him was off.

"I am sure, just let me take care of it", Diluc insisted and walked away before you could say anything further.

'What was different about him today?' you thought to yourself.

"I can see that you're very eager to flirt", Diluc started with almost threatening tone as he reached the table of men. "I'd prefer if you didn't flirt with them though, considering they're mine."

Was it his words or the flaming eyes that made the whole table silent? All of the men went quiet, and moment later Diluc left the table with relieved expression.

Fortunately or unfortunately, you hadn't heard the conversation as you were busy serving new customers. However, when Diluc came back, you could tell that something about him was different. As if a weight had lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe freely. No matter the reason, you were glad to see him feeling better.

"I'm closing early tonight. You can leave or stay around", Diluc said some time later. It was an invitation for you to stay with him, but you could have also went home if you wanted to.

"I think I'll stay around. No plans for tonight", you replied with more casual tone, dropping the 'sir' title as it wasn't work hours anymore.

"The same. Want to kill some time together?" Diluc asked, seeming to have some sort of idea in his mind. You agreed, not knowing where it would lead to.

Your body pinned against the tavern wall, Diluc's muscular chest pressing against yours as his lips were claiming you as his. The kisses started from your face, trailing down to your neck.

"Mine", Diluc spoke with low voice, his breath feeling hot on your neck. "I'm the only one allowed to flirt with you, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir", you answered with shy voice as he was making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Sir?" Diluc's eyebrows raised at the title. "We're not working currently, are we?"

"No- sorry. What should I call you?" you asked curiously.

"Anything but sir is fine", Diluc answered and continued with more teasing tone "How about 'love'?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion, it was a bit early for such a name. But, you liked the sound of it.

"Love.." you said the word slowly, considering it. "Hm, I like it. Do you have a nickname for me as well, love?"

Diluc smiled warmly at your words, he felt like his heart was about to burst out of joy. "I have, my darling. Multiple even."

"May I hear them?" you had to ask.

"You'll hear them soon enough, lovely. First I need to make sure others won't think that you're available", he muttered in your ear before continuing the trail of kisses on your neck, these ones would definitely leave marks.

Author's note: was feeling silly today- also taking requests

231 notes · View notes

notmyneighbor · 2 months

Text

resistance | doppel francis x female reader

rating | explicit

part 4/?

words | 5k

cw | sexual content

ao3 link

taglist | @jazminetoad @uhnanix @fangwh0r3 @zenxvii @mistrosa @vurivuri

You know the conversation regarding the doppel’s proposed transformation isn’t over.

As soon as dinner is finished and the table cleared, a new game of Crazy Eights now started, the doppelganger broaches the subject of impersonating Izaack Gauss again.

“He’s the only one who could talk his way into the building without an invitation.”

“And then what? They’re not just going to escort you to the inner sanctum and say: ‘Here’s everything we’ve been hiding.’ I told you, other journalists have tried—“

“—But not Izaack. Not the local celebrity news reporter. Clubs,” he says laying down the Eight of Hearts on the discard pile. “They won’t dare harm him. He’s too high profile.”

“How are you going to get back out again?” You lay a card down on top of the one the doppelganger has just played.

“That’s a Spade. Probably the same way I did last time.”

You remove the card and place another. “You were lucky the first time.”

“That’s not a Club either.” He sets his cards on the table and reaches for your hand. “Look at me.”

You sigh shakily, letting your own cards scatter across the Formica surface as your fingers slot through the doppel’s, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Scared?”

“Yes, I’m scared.”

“Me too. But I have to do this.”

“You don’t.”

“You know it’s not permanent. I wouldn’t look like him forever.”

“It’s not just that. If they find out, they’ll take you again. Or worse.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

You shake your head, falling silent.

In the bathroom a little later on, Francis’ clone has just finished brushing his teeth and he moves now to stand behind you to let you have your turn at the sink, sweeping your hair aside and kissing your shoulder softly. Your eyes meet in the mirror.

“No, Francis. I’m not going to agree to this. No matter how many times you ask me. It’s a suicide mission. It’s too risky.” You scrub your teeth and take a sip of water, rinsing and spitting into the basin, using a hand towel to dry your mouth off, sighing at the expression on his features. “Look, I know people have a right to know what’s really going on. There are probably other doppels trapped in that facility that deserve their freedom, too. But this ‘one man army tactic’ isn’t the way to go about this.”

“So what do you suggest instead?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have any ideas.”

“Exactly. And in the meantime, the DDD is continuing to threaten the lives and well-being’s of humans and doppels alike.”

“It’s not your responsibility. You don’t need to get involved.” You open the medicine cabinet to stow the toothpaste away.

“I’m already involved. They trapped me and stole my memories.”

The door closes with a loud snap as the magnets on the mirror’s back and the cabinet’s front rejoin together and you turn to face the replicant. “I’m aware. But you have to look at the larger picture here. What’s more important? What means more to you? You don’t even know if you can get them back. You might be risking everything for absolutely nothing. And since when do you care about others so much? You said before you didn’t even notice if there were other doppels trapped there when you escaped. You were just looking out for yourself. What happened to that, huh?” You try to make it light and playful, but the doppel’s features are grim.

“You know the answer to that,” he says softly.

You shake your head, walking through the bathroom doorway and flipping the lightswitch to the off position as you go. Such a different mood from this morning; a new tension between you now as you slide beneath the sheet spread neatly over the bed, your lover joining you.

You lean over to shut off the lamp on the nightstand and then settle back against the pillows. “I hate how guilty you’re making me feel. Like I’m being selfish for not wanting you to go. I’m helping the DDD keep a terrible secret. I know it’s wrong. I just…” You turn on your side, blindly reaching for the doppel’s cheek in the darkness. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m still going to be your Francis. I’m coming back to you.” His fingers smooth your hair and trace your lips in an attempt to soothe you.

“How would you do it? Become Izaack, I mean?”

“I’d need something of the real Izaack’s with his cellular structure on it.” He pauses. “A toothbrush would work. I’ll need to study his mannerisms a little more. Tune into the evening broadcast a few more times.”

“How are you going to get his toothbrush?”

“I’m not sure. I’d need to find a way to get inside his apartment somehow.”

“You’re really thinking about breaking in?!” You shift onto your back again. “This is crazy.”

“Is there a way to do it?”

“How would I know? I’m not a thief. Or a criminal,” you add.

“You’re harboring a fugitive. I’d say that counts as criminal behavior,” the replicant replies drily.

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“I don’t like seeing you upset. Actually, I don’t like not seeing you, period. Let me…” You hear the mattress creak as he leans over and manages to find the switch for the lamp. “That’s better.” He lies back down on his side, tucking one arm beneath the pair of pillows as he rests his head on the elevated surface.

“The doorman has a copy of everyone’s keys in his booth,” you murmur, absently stroking the arm the imposter milkman drapes over you. “I could say I locked myself out, try to borrow them. Grab the toothbrush, and some clothes.”

“See? I knew you’d think of something.”

Your hand abandons the doppel's forearm and you cover your face with it, groaning. “I shouldn’t have said anything. We’re not doing this, Francis.”

“We have to.”

“No, we don’t,” you argue, even though you feel your resolve weakening. “Why can’t you just be happy being here with me? Why aren’t I enough?”

“You are more than I deserve. Don’t ever mistake that. And I am happy with you.” He tucks his fingers under your chin, turning your face to his. “I know I’ve asked too much of you already. But I need your help again. Please.” He leans over to kiss you. “Please say you’ll help me.”

“How will you change back? Do I need to borrow a toothbrush from my other neighbor, too?”

“No. Once I have the information stored I can shapeshift at will into previous persons. Only one apartment to break into.”

“That makes it better?”

“Don’t be cross with me.” His thumb strokes your furrowed brow, trying to smooth the creases, then he tries to lift the corners of your mouth and you feel your lips betraying you, curving into a smile. “Better. That’s what I like to see.” He caresses your cheek and your features grow solemn.

“Promise me you’ll be okay. Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise.” His lips touch yours, once, twice, and on the third successive meeting his tongue dips between them. You’ve missed this. You’ve been arguing off and on all evening. It’s not how you want things to be, if this is all you’ll have of him. If he doesn’t make it back…

You push the negative thoughts from your mind, push the doppel’s shoulders until he’s lying flat on his back, then straddle his narrow hips, the hem of your nightgown bunched up around your thighs. You stroke down the mimic’s chest, through the sparse spread of dark curls, exploring over his abdomen, until you bump into the waistband of his briefs. There’s heat there that matches the one emanating from between the hot pink junction of your thighs. His breath hitches when you reach through the fly to maneuver his erection free, pumping your fist over it several times before you move your body so you’re positioned directly above, lining it up with your entrance.

You slowly lower your weight down, inserting the shaft into your canal inch by inch. Your bottom lip is clenched between your teeth, a little whimper of pleasure escaping you. Francis’ imposter rockets forward, his arms reaching for you. One strap of the nightgown has eased over your shoulder, half exposing one of your breasts. You feel his mouth there now, warm, wet, sucking, and you keen as you rock against him, a shallow sheathing and withdrawing motion guiding his cock in and out of you.

You slide your fingers into his hair and his face tilts back, jaw jutting upward, and you bring your mouth to it, licking your way towards opening his. His hands sit on the curves of your buttocks now, bracing you each time you lift and fall, impaling yourself on him. You memorize every taste and touch and sound he gifts you, little details that you tell yourself will be something to keep you until this mad plan reaches its finale. Not a goodbye, even though it has the feel of it, something final and parting that your body vehemently denies, making your nails dig into his flesh, your teeth nipping with possessiveness.

Your orgasm creeps up on you unawares, floating somewhere distant one moment and then suddenly crashing over you the next. The muscles in the replicant’s neck draw taut, tensing as he gasps his own release near your panting mouth. Wetness spills out of you as your forehead drops to rest on his.

You remain in his lap, still clinging tightly to him, unwilling to let go. His fingers dance along your spine, card through your hair, lips nuzzling your ear to whisper that it won’t be for long, he’ll come back to you, a vow that reveals he’s known your thoughts all along, the mirrored fear and trepidation that he can’t quite shake from his own voice.

***

The doppelganger paces while he waits for you to return from breaking into the news anchor’s apartment.

He envisions the scenario unfolding, when you reach the guard’s booth and flutter your lashes and smile in that soft, self deprecating kind of way, telling the doorman that you’d locked yourself out and needed the spare keys. Not to worry about separating them, you’ll just take the entire keyring and bring it back, while he keeps watch, you’ll be quick, no need to fuss.

He imagines you a little wide eyed as you step onto the elevator, heart thudding rapidly, thumbing the button for the second floor. Darting a glance down each direction of the hallway before stepping briskly towards Izaack’s door. Slotting the numbered key in the lock. Another quick glance to make certain you haven’t been seen before you shove the door open.

The layout of all the apartments is the same, so you’ll be able to find your way around quickly. First the crucial trip to the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush. Replacing it with a spare if you can find it, otherwise, the man will just be left baffled but not overly alarmed at its disappearance. Then a quick rummage through a closet to grab a suit and a pair of shoes that will dissappear into the shopping bag you’re carrying. A brief rifle through the dresser to get underclothes, a belt. These absences will surely be noticed, but they can’t be helped. He’s hoping the extensive wardrobe of the local celebrity might delay the immediate realization that some things have gone missing, but if not, so be it.

Francis’ clone then envisions you cracking open Izaack’s front door and peeking through the gap, then scurrying back onto the elevator. Heart pounding like mad, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Keyring returned to the doorman. That’s it. You should be back on the elevator by now. Heading to the third floor. Returning to him.

The doorknob turns and he stares intently, tensing up, then sighing in relief when he sees you’ve accomplished your mission.

You drop the bag at your feet, sagging back against the door. “I couldn’t find a spare toothbrush. But it’s done. Everything you wanted.”

“You’re amazing.” He steps forward, pulling you into his arms. You’re stiff, your face turned away from his, and he knows that it’s your defense to shield you from what he’s about to do, the transformation he’s about to endure. “Don’t be like this, please. We’ve talked about this for a solid week. Every day I’m hiding here makes it more dangerous for you.”

“Say you’re successful. And you get your memories back and you expose the DDD. Then what? You’ll be in more danger than ever. What’s to become of us then?”

“If it doesn’t turn out as planned, if we still can’t convince people to rally against the DDD and liberate the doppels…then we’ll leave. We’ll start over somewhere else.”

“Before, you made it sound personal. Like you just wanted revenge. Now you’re talking about an all out revolt. Francis, it’s madness. You’d be trading an existence spent hiding for a life of being on the run. Is that really better? If so, we could just do that now. Skip the rest and avoid the risk entirely.”

“You know we can’t. We can’t,” he murmurs, smoothing your hair back from your face. “Not without trying to fight back first.”

“What if you don’t want me anymore once you get your memories back?” Your voice sounds quiet and frail. “What if you suddenly remember you have a family? Another life that doesn’t involve me?”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“I’m afraid for you. For your safety. And yes, for us. For our future. Have you thought about it, Francis? About what we could have?”

“Yes,” he says, the admission uttered with a harsh rasp. “Yes, I have. That’s why I have to do this. To secure that future. You wouldn’t be happy hiding or running. That’s not a life I want for either of us. That’s why I have to do this,” he repeats. “It’s not just about the memories anymore. Or the revenge. Or even justice. It’s for us,” he says firmly. “Now kiss me and wait for me in the other room. It’s time.”

“Francis, don’t do this. I’m begging you.” You bury your face against his chest. “It hurts too much.”

His arms tighten around you. “It’s not forever. I swear to you. You have to trust me.”

A broken sound escapes you as he crushes his lips to yours. Then you move away, briskly brushing past him, as if you cannot bear to be in his presence any longer. He hears the bedroom door shut and his eyes drop to the shopping bag still sitting on the floor near his feet. His fingers curl around the handles and he brings it into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

The articles of clothing you’d stolen feel strange to his hands; the fabric is more refined, more expensive than what the milkman’s imposter normally wears. The pale blue silk tie spills like liquid over his skin as he removes it. The many woven cotton threads of the shirt rest crisply as he lays it out over the jacket and pants on the closed toilet seat lid. The shoes still smell new, genuine leather that is polished to a mirror shine. He removes each garment and accessory slowly, almost reverently, aware that he’s stalling, more reluctant for the upcoming transition than he’d let on.

The doppel strips out of his clothing, letting each piece fall to the linoleum, then gathering them together to stuff them into the wicker laundry hamper for soiled linens. His eyes study the appearance of the milkman in the mirror for long moments, almost as if to say farewell to the tired eyes and stubbornly mussed hair, the face that he’d worn so much it had begun to feel as if it was a permanent part of him, like a scar or birthmark.

With a heavy sigh he reaches into the bag for the final time, withdrawing the last object inside. He closes his eyes, clutching the plastic handle in his fingers. His hand rests against the edge of the sink to stop the tremors. Afraid? Really? After all your assurances that this is only temporary? Your insistence that this is necessary? Stop being a hypocrite. A coward. Just do it. He thrusts the brush into his mouth. The bristles are slightly splayed from use. Mint flavored, but different from the kind you use. This even sharper, making his nose wrinkle with distaste. He drags it from his mouth and tosses it into the sink, hearing the sound of the plastic striking porcelain, and he finally gathers enough courage to open his eyes, his fingers curling around the basin as he stares into the mirror, waiting.

Hot. That’s the first sensation that strikes him. A strange pricking sensation along his skin. He’s suddenly sweating profusely. His true appearance reveals itself, emerald scaled and monstrous, before it begins blurring. His teeth grit, newly sharpened edges grinding together. It doesn’t hurt, precisely, but it’s wildly unpleasant. A tinge of nausea wallows in his gut.

The next time he views himself in the reflective surface of the medicine cabinet his eyes are aqua, large and bright, no longer underlined with tired smudges like Francis’. His jaw structure is notably different; blockier, more angular, the teeth filling a broader stretch of smile as his lips split open. Izaack is larger than the milkman. Bulkier. There are better defined muscles forming beneath the skin now, his chest and arms and shoulders widening, gradually covered with a thicker layer of jet black hair to match the waves crowning his skull, a single stubborn lock falling forward across the center of his forehead.

The transformation is complete. He’s an identical clone of Izaack Gauss.

The replicant glares at his new face, watching the thick eyebrows draw down sharply as he frowns at his altered appearance. His fingers probe at the divot of his cleft chin and the pair of dimples tucked into his cheeks, stroking over the skin as he turns his face from side to side, noting the news reporter’s nose sticks out far more than Francis’ protuberance had. The body still doesn’t feel like his own yet, the false outer layer itchy, almost tender. He waits awhile before pulling on the foreign clothing, trying to get accustomed to how it feels to maneuver this new broader, muscular form, bending and rotating each joint in varying degrees in the process. At last he completes the task, the local news reporter’s image now uncannily replicated in your bathroom.

Izaack’s doppel knocks gently on your bedroom door a short time later, trying the knob and finding it unlocked.

You’re standing in the middle of the room, facing away from him. He sees your shoulders tense as you hear him approach.

“It’s done.” His voice is deeper now. Less mellow, more crisp. It still sounds a little off, though; not quite as smooth and melodic as the human version’s. He’s going to need to practice speaking.

A sharp inhale is your only reply. He moves to stand behind you. “Please turn around. Don’t listen to…just ignore the voice. Hear the words. It’s me. You know it’s still me.” His fingers twitch, longing to touch you. He begins to raise a hand, hesitating as he catches sight of the dark hair lining his new, thicker fingers. Nothing like the milkman’s slender, calloused ones.

A sob greets these words. You turn reluctantly, your eyes lifting slowly. Up and up and up, adjusting to the marked change in height, to view the new appearance of your secret roommate. Tears slide down your cheeks and you cover your mouth with your hand.

“It’s me,” he says again, as if trying to remind himself.

“I can’t do this,” you say. “It’s too much. I can’t…”

“I’m here. I’m still your Francis,” he hastily attempts to reassure you, succumbing to his desire from earlier, his thumb brushing at your damp face, causing you to involuntarily flinch. “My feelings for you haven’t changed. It’s still me. Inside.”

You inhale shakily. “Change back.”

“As soon as I can, I will. I need to get used to this new body. I have to do this. Please,” he says, finally surrendering to what his emotions are driving him towards, wrapping his arms around you and dragging you into a crushing embrace. You tremble violently against him, your body resisting the foreign feeling of the cloned Izaack’s arms.

“When are you going?” Your voice is muffled against the imposter news anchor’s dress shirt.

“Soon. Within the next couple of days. As soon as I feel confident in this new form.” He pauses. “Did you want me to sleep in the other room tonight? Would it make things easier?”

“Nothing will make this easier. No. You can sleep in here tonight. I just….I need a moment,” you murmur, pulling free from his tight embrace. Your eyes refuse to meet his as you depart, leaving him standing alone. He looks at his reflection in the full length mirror, and he wants to smash it to pieces; use the shards to rip this offensive countenance right off his face. He wants to let his claws escape and peel off everything he’d just so carefully put into place; cloak himself in the milkman’s guise instead. That’s what you really want. It’s clearer than ever.

The only way he can ever have you is by pretending to be Francis Mosses.

***

You barely speak to the doppelganger for the remainder of the day.

The wounded looks he offers are painful. It’s a strange expression to see on Izaack’s features, as he usually appears confident and authoritative, largely free of any specific emotion, clinically detached. Necessary for his career; imparting information in a concise, accurate, dispassionate manner, but in this setting, under these circumstances, you can’t admire those traits. You can’t make yourself feel proud that he wants to help others. You want to be selfish. You want to keep him here, and most of all you want him to be Francis. Francis, and not Izaack.

There is no playful flirting. Neither of you seems to have any appetite. You retire early, lying beside what feels like a stranger, your heart pounding rapidly. Was it shallow of you to want him to look like the milkman? That wasn’t even his true appearance. If you really cared for him, it shouldn’t matter whose face he wears.

Oh, but it does. It does.

You both lie awake for a time. Then you feel his hand tentatively reach for your cheek. Too large. It stretches too broadly. His thumb nudges your bottom lip. You gasp, a soft sound in the darkness.

“Your heart is racing so fast.” You remain silent, frozen immobile against his touch. “I ache for you,” he whispers, and it wrenches at something in your chest.

You cover his hand with yours, squeezing lightly. The mattress springs creak as he moves closer, and you feel his breath warm against your face. His mouth grazes yours and your stomach flutters. He kisses you again, pressing more firmly, and you allow your lips to part, accepting his tongue. It feels both foreign and familiar; the shape, the texture, all wrong, but the technique is Francis’, and your body recognizes it, responding. You arch against him and he shifts, climbing over you, fingers skimming the hem of your nightgown.

“Francis, no. I can’t…”

“It’s me. You know it’s still me,” he urges harshly against your ear.

“Please don’t make me.”

The hand on your thigh stills. “Make you? I would never force you to…” The bed springs squeak in protest as his weight shifts again. “This was a mistake. I should have slept in the other room.”

You sit up, reaching towards him. He’s further away than you’d expected, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Francis, wait. I’m not rejecting you, it just feels wrong, when you look like Izaack, and not yourself.”

“That’s not my real face, either,” he says, sounding bitter. “You said you liked me. That you cared for me.”

“I do.”

“Then don’t mock what I am.”

Your mouth falls open. “I…I’m not.” You feel his weight leave the bed, and you lean over to switch on the light. “Francis, wait. Don’t go. Let’s talk.”

“I’m tired of talking,” he says, now standing by the bedroom door.

You slide your legs over the side of the bed, following him out of the room. You think he’ll be turning right to go down the hall to the living room, but he enters the bathroom across the hallway instead, shutting the door in your face.

You hear the lock turn, and you realize you’ve never, ever had him separated from you like this. You’d always been the one sealed away, with the added comfort of a locked door, secure until you’d decided you wanted his company. He’d always been out in the open. Exposed. Vulnerable.

“Francis, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not being fair.” You rest your palm against the wooden surface. “Please come out. Or at least talk to me.”

Silence. Tears burn the edges of your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say again, then retreat to the bedroom. His warmth still lingers on the sheets as you slide back into bed, and the ache in your chest worsens. How had you gotten so attached to him so fast? It shouldn’t hurt this bad this early on. It’s only been a couple of weeks.

You remain lying on your side, your hand now stretching up to find the dip in the pillow that had cradled the doppel’s head. You nudge your face closer to that shallow hollow and you can smell shampoo, soap, musk. His scent. Unique to him. You burrow your face into the cushion, your fingers gripping the fabric tightly. Not the same. It can never be the same. Your tears stain the rosebud printed cotton until sleep finally captures you.

***

You awaken to darkness, and you find you are no longer alone.

The doppelganger’s weight dents the edge of the mattress again, his hand resting over yours. That feeling is familiar; right, like the imposter milkman’s own that you’re used to. You set your other hand on top of it, tracing over the arching knuckles and creased joints, this blind touch confirming your suspicions.

“You changed back,” you say into the darkness.

“Had to,” he replies shortly, his voice—his voice, Francis’—sounding thick with emotion, the words choked out.

“Oh, Francis.” You struggle to sit upright, to move closer, wrapping your arms around his torso. Slender once more. The abundant musculature gone. Just that lean, narrow frame you’ve grown accustomed to. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, feeling more tears threatening to escape again. His arm encircles you, drawing you more tightly against him, and his breath shudders into your hair.

“I shouldn’t have tried to make you…it wasn’t right,” he murmurs softly.

Your head lifts from his shoulder. One of you should turn on the lamp. You want to see him. “No, Francis, don’t apologize. I’m being selfish. It’s just…I can’t be without you anymore. As crazy as that sounds, I just can’t do it. It hurts too much. And I don’t want to hurt you, either. I want you to be happy. That’s all I want. That, and the light on,” you add, leaning away to feel for the switch but he beats you to it, the longer limb giving him an advantage.

His eyes look puffier than usual, suspiciously red rimmed and you think he might have been crying earlier, that pain in your chest flaring anew. You card your fingers through his hair and cup his cheek. “I did hurt you,” you whisper.

“I can’t be without you, either,” he replies softly. “I can’t have you look at me like that. Like I’m a stranger. Worse. Someone you despise.”

“No, Francis, I could never,” you protest. You lay your palm on his chest, feel the heart beating beneath the surface. “I know what’s inside you. I know it, and I might be frightened at the prospect of it, and that’s my shortcoming, not yours. But no, Francis. I could never hate you.” You wrap your fingers around the back of his neck and gently pull his face to yours, kissing his mouth. “My Francis. Mine, and no one else’s,” you whisper fiercely against his lips.

“Yours,” he agrees, recapturing your mouth.

***

The doppelganger cradles you against his chest.

The light is still on, bathing the room in soft yellow light. His fingers absently stroke yours, his thoughts swirling around clumsily in his mind, trying to settle into some semblance of clarity. Your frantic heart rate has slowed, your body soft and pliable against him. He wants you; wants to be buried in you, see that fire in your eyes as you come undone around him, but he’s lost some of his confidence, settling instead for holding you like this.

“Penny for your thoughts,” you murmur into his shirt.

“Hmmm? Oh. I’ve been thinking about this plan some more.” He feels your shoulders tensing again and plows forward quickly, “I think I’ve been too hasty with it. Too cocky,” the replicant adds. “You’re right. It is a suicide mission. So I need to find a better way.” He inhales deeply, then sighs as you relax again. “We’re going to have to ask for help after all.”

Your head lifts from his chest and you frown at him. “From who? Izaack?”

He nods. “Him, Francis…as many people as we can gather to the cause. We’re going to need your neighbors’ help.”

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #that’s not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #tnmn francis mosses #doppelganger francis mosses #doppelganger izaack gauss #tnmn smut #francis tnmn #francis mosses tnmn #tnmn doppelganger #the milkman

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sungiejpg · 4 months

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WHY ME?; na jaemin [smau]

17. the worst nightmare + written (after each 3 photos!)

𓂃⊹pairing: jaemin x f!reader

𓂃⊹tags: college au, enemies to lovers, smau, humour, reversed trope

𓂃⊹synopsis: he is known as the nicest guy on the faculty who gets along with everyone, well…maybe not everyone

𓂃⊹warnings: suggestive messages/topics

ignore how bad the narration might be 😭 I didn’t have enough time.

“So, Jaemin,” Y/n and Jisung’s mother called him while he was finishing preparing the table with Jisung’s help, he already had a bad feeling regarding the conversation. “Did you see that my big baby finally got a boyfriend?” She said smiling, Jaemin already knew their mother always wanted Y/n to get into a relationship. Bingo.

“Oh, they are not dating,” Jaemin clarified while trying not to sound pissed off about the topic. Although, why would he get pissed off, it’s not like he cares.

“Not yet,” their mother replied, still smiling. Jaemin loved that woman, she always treated him like a son, but this exact day he wasn’t that fond of her.

“Mom! Please don’t say that when Y/n comes,” Jisung jumped in the conversation trying to shush his own mother, something that made Jaemin appreciate him even more.

“I know I know”, she repeated, “but wouldn’t that be cute?” she asked while looking at Jaemin and completely ignoring her own son, who was pretending to vomit.

“Haechan is not cute,” Jaemin replied, trying to maintain his composure. But again, he doesn’t care if they date, does he?

“Aw, our Jaeminnie,” she screamed. “Always taking care of my kids,” their mom said while pinching his cheeks. He just smiled awkwardly.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom then,” Jaemin said, exiting the room as a way to end the conversation and forget about it forever if possible.

No later than 4 mins you came, not without praying internally Jisung wasn’t already dead because of a spider or something, since you took longer than intended.

“Mom?” you asked when you saw your mother smiling standing in your kitchen and a kinda scared Jisung next to her. Well, not more than yourself, you could already tell what the topic of the night was going to be. “What are you doing here?”

“Aw my baby! I missed you so much” she screamed, running to hug you, which you reciprocated. “I came here since it’s been long since I last saw you and I wanted to have dinner with my two babies”.

“And?” You asked, already sensing what she was going to say.

“and I also invited someone special for dinner too,” she finally said after breaking the hug, Jisung smiling awkwardly, or scared, next to her. Kill me now, you thought, knowing it was going to be your biggest nightmare these days.

“Mom, don’t tell my is Jaemin, please.” Although you could already tell it was going to be him.

“He is already here, he went to the bathroom,” Jisung replied instead, still maintaining a nervous smile, which made you even more nervous.

“But I meant someone special for you,” your mom answered. Oh yeah, exactly, why would Jaemin be special to you. Wait, you thought, no way.

“Don’t tell me is…” But you weren’t able to finish your sentence since your doorbell rang, showing your biggest nightmare, fuckass Lee Haechan. Jisung is so dead, you thought.

“Hi family!” Haechan greeted everyone, not without smirking when he saw your face. And if things couldn’t get worse, it was at that moment when Jaemin came back from the bathroom and looked confused at you two. Jisung is so so so so dead.

“Well,” you said while putting your phone down after your mother and jisung left, not without her pinching Jaemin’s cheeks and saying he should go see her soon. You still don’t know how that even happened, since when was he that close?

“It’s been long since we last talked properly, only both of us,” Jaemin said, trying to make the situation less awkward. Who would have told you two months ago that you would be awkward with Jaemin, not because you hated him, but because you wanted him…

“I don’t think this counts,” definitely not awkward at all. Both of you were still in the corridor next to the door.

“So Haechan and you, huh?” he said while getting a bit closer to you, sounding a bit pissed off. Why would he? Maybe because Haechan was his friend?

“Not you too, I would rather light myself on fire than date him” quite literally. You even thought about doing it while your mom was trying to set both of you up during the dinner. Also poor Jisung, who had to listen to all of that.

“Hey, he’s still my friend,” Jaemin joked while smirking and still getting closer to you. If he kept doing that you would jump on him and bite his head off, out of excitement, not hatred. “Is he that bad?”

“Well, he isn’t I guess” you sincerely replied, “but I don’t like him, romantically I mean.” That coming off way more awkward than you intended since Jaemin was way closer than before.

“Romantically? So,” he said still getting closer, he smelled like vanilla, of course he did. “So do you like someone?”

“Maybe?”

One second he is smirking and the next second his tongue is tangled with yours, making your heart rate increase. Maybe this is where you die. After what felt like an eternity, he pulling back from the kiss and looking at you confused, as if he wasn’t the one initiating it. However, both of you heard the sound of keys.

“Well, bye,” he blurted out as soon as he heard Jisung out of the flat, opening the door.

“What do you mean by well bye?” You screamed, but he already left half running, leaving Jisung and you confused. What the fuck just happened.

“What’s going on? He didn’t even take his jacket with him,” Jisung mumbled, but you didn’t listen to that, too busy trying to grasp the situation.

𓂃before | 𓂃next

#nct dream fanfic #smau #college au #kpop #au #nct dream #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you #jaemin x reader

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ninyard · 5 months

Note

"if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you."

This would be perfect for Andrew to say to Neil

“If you can’t figure it out by now, then I don’t have anything else to tell you,”

(aka an Andreil “what are we?” conversation.)

“Allison hasn’t stopped calling you my boyfriend since we got back from the cabins.” Neil was sat parallel to Andrew with his arms wrapped around his knees in a meagre attempt at keeping warm, next to Andrew’s outstretched legs. The air on the roof of the dorms was crisp with a fresh Spring breeze, the wind swirling debris in little whirls around them. “I haven’t told her to stop, but I will if it bothers you. ”

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about for the last twenty minutes?” Andrew asked, a rhetorical air to the question he didn’t really want answered at all. The smoke that left his lips disappeared quickly in the wind, miraculous that his cigarette was still burning. He brought it back up to his lips and inhaled before turning to look at Neil. He didn’t say anything, and his bored gaze didn’t say much either.

“It’s Allison.” Neil settled for, as if it were explanation enough. He sat up straight to match Andrew’s eye-line. “It’ll catch on.”

Andrew regarded Neil for only a second longer before turning back towards the view in front. “She has never strayed far from being a tabloid princess. It’s nothing more than front page news to her.”

“I told you she was betting on us,” Neil said, but Andrew held up a finger to stop him. “What?”

“Their poor choices in gambling are not my business.” He said, stubbing out the finished cigarette next to him and flicking the butt over the edge. His hands found rest in his lap, interlaced into each other. “They chose a horse in a race and think that they’ve won. I don’t care.”

“Tell me to ask her to stop, then.” Neil looked away as well, arms crossed over his chest, close to asking Andrew to go inside. They could talk in their dorm, except for the fact that Kevin had surprisingly invited Matt over to discuss his playing strategy, and this was not the kind of conversation Neil wanted to have with company. They could speak in German; but he’d made a conscious effort to speak in English in front of his teammates since he promised not to keep secrets from them anymore. “Say the word and I’ll tell her, because I don’t care.”

“Evidently not.” Andrew said. “Why bring it up if you didn’t?”

“Well, does it?” Neil didn’t want to indulge in his desire to dodge his questions by changing the subject. “Bother you, I mean.”

“Irrelevant bullshit doesn’t bother me.” Andrew pedantically emphasised the word bother with quotation marks in the air. “You’re asking stupid questions.”

“Valid questions.” Neil corrected.

“Needless questions.”

Neil sighed and extended his legs. He had to brush the hair from out of his eyes to look over at Andrew, reminding himself that he needed a haircut. “I’ll tell her to stop, then.”

“That is not what I said.” Andrew brushed him off with a wave of his hand.

“So are you my boyfriend?” Neil wasn’t sure why he cared so much, or if he even cared at all, because he knew in truth he would never go out of his way to call Andrew his boyfriend anyway. But in some ways it felt important to understand what was really happening, and how exclusive was their nothing? In his own mind, never to be spoken aloud, did Andrew even believe that they were a thing?

Andrew looked at him, his gaze falling from the top of Neil’s head to the bottom of his chest and back up again. He tilted his head, and landed on Neil’s eyes. After a small inhale, he nodded forward, “No.”

Even expecting it, even knowing that was what he was always going to say, it still felt like a surprise punch to his stomach. That’s what Andrew had done to him, he’d turned him soft, he’d turned him into someone with an interest in normality. He’d turned him into someone who longed for a boyfriend and a life, a home, a future, even if his stomach twisted at the thought.

He pushed down the tiny feeling of disappointment that radiated through his gut, and smiled, “Okay.” Andrew didn’t look away, but he remained silent, and Neil filled the space with a question he knew he shouldn’t ask, but had to ask anyways, “So what are we?”

“You are living inside a movie.” Andrew didn’t laugh, but Neil was sure that the desire to was buried somewhere beneath his stoic expression. “Is that how far removed you’ve become in your freedom, that you think that is something you have to ask me?” He shuffled himself over so he was better facing Neil, and he glanced between his eyes. “We are nothing.”

“A truth?” Neil tested.

“Fuck off,” Andrew poked Neil’s chest hard enough to hurt. “That is the truth.”

“So I’ll tell Allison to stop.” Neil’s head bowed in an over exaggerated nod of understanding. “I’ll tell her that you are not my boyfriend, and you don’t want to be called that. I’ll tell her you said that.”

“I hope that is not supposed to be a threat.” Neil had hoped his response would be more telling, but Andrew continued with, “Would you like to be called my boyfriend?” His tone was less inquisitive than it was mocking, the slightest grimace in his face telling Neil that he hated even saying it.

“I don’t know.” Neil reached a hand out towards Andrew, pausing for a silent glance of approval from him before he placed it on his chest, playing with the strings of the black hoodie he wore. “I’m mostly tired of not knowing what I mean to you.” Andrew’s expression hardened into something resembling annoyance as he continued to speak. “I’m not asking you to call me your boyfriend, okay? I just want to know if you‘re going to meet another guy, and think it’s okay to get him off, because we’re not together.”

Andrew didn’t move to reciprocate the touch Neil had given him, but raised an eyebrow at the hypothetical. “It sounds like it would be a problem for you if I did.”

Neil matched his stare and coolness in his response, “And what if it is?”

“This is an entirely unproductive conversation to have,” Andrew rested a wrist on Neil’s shoulder and brushed a piece of hair back behind his neck. A small but meaningful gesture that perhaps was given in lieu of ensuring Neil that his example would never happen. “I will not give you the pleasure of reassurance. If you haven’t figured it out by now, then I don’t have anything else to tell you.”

“How can I figure it out, when you keep telling me it doesn’t exist?” Neil’s voice was low, and Andrew’s sigh meant he heard the gentleness in it. He heard the way Neil hadn’t meant to sound so pleading, the words leaving his lips in such a way that felt like a desperate whisper for answers. “I want to hear you say it.”

Andrew looked down at the hair by Neil’s neck. “You know that I won’t.”

“Then tell me that we’re not just fucking for fun.”

Andrew dropped his hand and pushed Neil off, seemingly thrown by his bluntness. His laugh was a single short breath, not a semblance of a smile or humour in it. He shook his head as he took a cigarette from the packet he’d pulled from his pocket. Once the cigarette was placed between his lips, he stopped with the lighter a few inches away from his face, pointing the fire starter at Neil. “Well, we’re certainly not fucking for love.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Neil watched as he struggled to ignite the lighter, hand cupped around the flame, the wind set on blowing it out. After the third unsuccessful try, Neil reached forward to help him shield it with both his hands, until three short puffs in from Andrew told him it was lit. Andrew leaned back and exhaled. He watched as Neil pulled his hands away.

“You want to know if I’m going to get bored of you, then.” He said through smoke. Andrew adjusted himself to tuck one of his legs beneath the other, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You want to know if I have feelings, is that it?”

Neil shrugged his shoulders and looked at his hands. “Maybe.”

Neil listened as Andrew let out another smoky exhale. He cleared his throat, and when Neil thought he might speak, he instead filled his lungs again. There was no need to flick off the ash as the wind did that job for him, but from instinct he did it anyway. He let out another humourless laugh, two short puffs following in order to keep the stick lit. Andrew was not looking at Neil as he lifted his eyes to watch him, Andrew’s hazel gaze fixed on something in the distance. Using the thumb and index finger of his free hand he wiped the sides of his lips, tensing his jaw like the words took it out of him just to say. “Fuck you for even asking.”

The tug in Neil’s chest was impossible to ignore. It felt wrong to hear Andrew’s voice wrapped around those words, words that separately read like an insult, yet meant something different to their original form when he uttered them. Like watching a fish out of water, like listening to a mime sing; to have these moments of vulnerability from Andrew were as beautiful as they were rare. He hadn’t intended to steer their conversation to the place where it had landed, and part of him felt guilty as he watched Andrew silently struggle through the side of himself he swore did not exist. The side of Andrew that kept itself buried six feet below, hidden from anyone who asked, except for Neil, who’d been digging a hole for months trying to find it.

“When you put a name to something it gives it permanency, yet an opportunity to end,” Andrew sat up and moved closer to Neil, finding his position with one knee in between his legs, sitting back on a spot on the lower half of Neil’s thigh. He threw the cigarette somewhere behind him as he settled. Taking Neil’s hair into his fists, he examined the look on his face with his lips slightly pursed. He considered his words and took one hand out of Neil’s hair to hold his chin up, making sure he was listening. “You label it however you wish. I will not. Do you understand?”

Neil nodded, afraid to speak, as if any words insufficient would cause Andrew to change his mind about where he rested his body weight. It was reassurance enough that he’d found his way there, and that he remained, comfortable by his own volition.

“And for the record, Abram,” Andrew leaned in close, wisps of his hair tickling Neil’s face, his breath hot as he left a gentle kiss on his jawline. Neil shut his eyes and breathed in the moment, hiding his fists in the pocket of Andrew’s hoodie. “To answer the question you so annoyingly want answered,” He left another kiss higher up on his jaw, brushing his lip against his ear lobe as he moved, slowly, so gently Neil was both afraid he would fall apart, or that he would be able to feel his quickly beating heart through his skin. The hand that had sat in his hair moved to cup the opposite side of his face, the other tucking Neil’s hair behind his ear and holding him by his neck. Neil couldn’t help but shiver as he whispered in his ear, “I will not be fucking anyone else, and I am not just fucking you for fun. Happy?”

Neil nodded as he turned into his lips, melting into the kiss that warmed him up as the wind persisted. His hands pulled out of the hoodie pocket, and he tapped Andrew’s neck for permission to hold him. When Andrew hummed with a barely there nod, he hooked his hands around the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

There were a million things Neil could label Andrew;

Terrifying but caring. Gentle while violent.

Beautiful, like something that deserved to be hung on a wall, yet so precious Neil wished nobody else could see.

Rough. Jagged.

Talented. Human.

Misunderstood, perhaps. Genuine, most of the time.

When he thought about Andrew, there were a million things he could identify him as before landing on Neil’s boyfriend.

He would not tell Allison to stop, nor correct Nicky when he joined in. He would not say it out loud, either, as if their nothing that is something was so sacred it couldn’t be uttered. It was a relief of course to know that Andrew was his, and though he felt embarrassment rush through his blood at the idea of it, he was certain that what they had both found in each other was glaringly rare and hauntingly perfect. He noticed how perfect they fit together in each others space, lips on lips, hands on skin, and wondered how he ever doubted this was it; that this was real.

He was sure that no one else could experience such a thing.

#this got a little too long but I could keep going #the prompt is supposed to be angsty but <3 look at these two <3 #look at how they love each other #I hope this is okay! I hope you enjoy!#I love these funky little guys #Neil josten #Andrew minyard #aftg #all for the game #andreil #andreil fic

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sorcerous-caress · 11 months

Note

Omg that modern au human kink post is so hot you are a genius

Imagine being a human and sitting there knowing your elf friend just obsessed with extreme human kink and their question to you regarding to being started to get more and more fetish-y. You are fighting the urge to just let the elf fuck you silly so bad

— RED anon

More modern au loser high elf with a human fetish.

With the age of the Internet and endless porn sources, the elf would become uttered deranged and obsessed as they watch one video after another. Completely inaccurate and fetishising of humans but the elf doesn't know that.

And god they can't afford letting anyone else find out about this, a whole high elf who holds a very important position in their elf society is secretly a degenerate loser who won't stop frequnting these "ask a human" nsfw forums.

But it gets harder everyday to even interact with humans in life. The elf can't have a 5 minutes conversation with one without their brain imagining them bent over and covered in cum. The elf's imagination getting more and more preverse the longer the human is talking to them.

So they cut the conversation short, rudely even, and immediately leave to find the nearest bathroom to relief themselves in. The human just rolling their eyes because yeah of course they left rudely, just elf nature eh? Completely unware of the true reason.

Yet somehow, fate brings the elf a very close friend online who is always sweet to them and listens to their problems. Of course, they haven't told them about their human obsession yet. They don't want to creep out the only true friend they've made in a long time.

It doesn't even cross their mind the possibility of them being a human, they are so brainwashed by the erotic novels and self insert dating sims that they almost forgot how actual humans act and instead replaced it with a cum-hungry slut fantasy version of a human.

Maybe their friend is a fellow elf? A dwarf? They'd even accept a gnome at this point. Just a friend, a true friend please corellon bless them with this one thing.

The elf doesn't even register what they were thinking when they immediately invited you to their home as a first meeting. But all logic and common sense left their brain the secone they opened the door to be met with the most delicious looking human they have ever seen

All cutely dressed up in their own human fashion and smiling so sweetly, the elf could feel their own arousal building up just from a simple smile how depraved were they??

A human, sitting on their bed. The same bed they fucked themselves silly on at the thought of a warm tight human hole.

They can't stop staring at you, as if you were a mirage and would vanish the second they look away. The urge to touch you, feel you and smell you. Oh that intoxicating human smell, Corellon please save them.

Excusing themselves to go make drinks, they immediately make a turn for the bathroom in their home instead.

It's impossible how wet and sensitive they are while still completely untouched. It barely takes a minute, and they're making a mess and spilling over the edge. They can still smell you, even here they can still smell you, and it's driving them crazy.

It's your fault, after all. For indulging all their borderline inappropriate questions about human culture, answering it without an idea of the effect it had on the elf. You're just a seducing little minx that needs to take responsibility for corrupting them and making them lust after you.

It doesn't make sense. Elves are clearly superior in every ascept. So why is this one so turned on by of how defenceless humans are while they sleep, of how they have no control over their dreams. Of how they'd have to sit through an entire wetdream the whole 8 hours of sleep if their brains deemed it, how they'd wake up all wet and aroused and have to deal with the aftermath of their silly little mind getting so excited during sleep.

Or how they seem to speak so openly without regards for common decency in elf standards. How fast they talk and how honest and direct they admit to very private things. How they annouce openly on soical media that they're trying for a kid, that would get a couple shunned in elf Society.

....maybe they should go a second time, you'll obediently wait in their bedroom while they pleasure themselves to the thought of you, wouldn't you? Yes you would because that's what any good obedient submissive human whore would do.

Aren't you just a very good human? Yes the best for them. They can't stop and suddenly a second time becomes a third and a fourth.

They're completely unaware of you snooping around in their bedroom, finding all their human books and shameful porn. They don't remember to close their 30 open tabs of the most depraved fantasies about humans ever. Rows and rows of different forums of other races sharing their most disgusting human wetdreams, talking about how much they want to make a half-human one day. Sharing their own folder collection of the best human porn they could find.

By the time the elf finally comes back, polite front on and apologising for taking so long making drinks. They find you completely laying on their bed, casually flipping through one of their porn magazines, unimpressed.

You look at them, your fingers toying with the buttons of your blouse. The elf feels their breath stuck in their throat.

Slowly exposing your chest and letting the blouse fall away. "It's really hot in here huh" you say, stretching your arms above your head and putting yourself on full display.

You wonder how much teasing you can get away with before their cords snap.

#♡human kink #♡human reader #♡modern loser high elf #♡smut #♡red anon #human kink #human x high elf #♡drabble

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animeyanderelover · 2 years

Note

What about platonic yandere Rachel and Vincent Phantomhive if they survive au? With reader who isekai'd from our world that miss her family?

I added their children in here too.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, manipulation, guilt-tripping, sabotage, clinginess, imprisonment

Isekai reader

🍓 🌓 Rachel's kindness is what saved you on that day where her husband and her children found you. A day where both her asthma and the asthma of her youngest child were better and the whole family was able to go outside. Strays and homeless aren't uncommon to be seen in the darkest streets of London or begging somewhere for money but it's the first time for both of their boys to see someone homeless. You're just sitting in one of the corners, ragged clothes hugging your form as you just sit there with dull and lifeless eyes. The youngest son sees you and approaches you with his childish curiosity, pities you. Vincent, slightly alarmed, is quick to follow him just in case. When his son asks you why you're sitting outside like this, he quickly hushes him and apologizes for the insensible question of his child. You just stare at him with a stoic expression before you look away. It's truly a pitiful sight to behold.

🍓 🌓 Pitiful enough to soften Rachel's heart as she realizes how young you are. She isn't able to go outside that much due to her health so she doesn't see how hard the life of people tends to be. She asks her husband if they can invite you for just one meal and her youngest son agrees as he also wants to do something good for you. Vincent and Ciel hesitate for a while but in the end can't reject the pleads of those two. You just trail quietly behind the family, don't speak much when Rachel and her son try to talk to you. Rachel respects that though, she doesn't know what you've gone through after all. You stop shortly before you arrive in front of their mansion, look at the place in a mix of awe and horror. You turn to them and ask them flabbergasted why they would let you inside, they've basically picked you up on the streets. Vincent reminds you coldly that this is only one time only to be interrupted by his wife who tells you kindly that she wants to help you at least a bit.

🍓 🌓 The servants look at you in shock but quickly comply when they hear what the wish of their mistress is. You are given a new set of clothes and are pushed to take a bath since you reek. Well, you haven't been able to take a good bath in quite a while. In the meantime Vincent questions Rachel if she's going to invite every homeless person over now but she is vehement to insist that she knows that she can't help every person who suffers. But she just couldn't ignore you, you looked so frail and lost. When you are led to the dining room, you grow slightly nervous to be in the presence of those people. Rachel compliments you for looking fine now that you wear fresh clothes and are cleaned. The meal you have is better than everything you've had since you've arrived here but despite that you mind your table manners since you're in the presence of nobles in here. You surprise Vincent a bit with that since you're far more mannered than he initially thought you'd be.

🍓 🌓 What really ends up shocking him is your educational level and your insight on certain things. You keep quiet throughout the whole meal, are far too ashamed to even look at this family. It isn't until Vincent and Ciel start a insightful conversation about something that perks your interest. All it really takes is one comment from you in regards of their conversation that suddenly earns you the earl's attention. You quickly apologize, terribly ashamed and embarrassed that you just butted into their conversation like this. But instead Vincent encourages you to join the discussion they have and even if you are more careful with your answers, he can clearly sense that you are smarter than you might let on. You know more than the basics in things like maths and physics and prove to have an educational level which not everyone has. Not to mention that you seem to be very insightful. It surprises him to discover just how knowledgeable you are.

🍓 🌓 The meal takes longer than intended which is mainly because your answers and guesses push Vincent to chat with you longer and the whole family joins in at one point. You definitely have their curiosity now which embarrasses and flatters you all together. When you've finally gotten to the end of it, you stand up and bow deeply, thank them for their hospitality and that you'll leave now. Instead Vincent tells you to stay here for a while longer since he wants to discuss something with Rachel. The children are sent to bed by the servants whilst you are led into a huge room where you sit down on the couch and just wait awkwardly. You feel terribly out of place. The couple returns after a while and before Vincent can even start to explain, Rachel asks you if you'd like to work for them. You just stare at both of them surprised and then your gaze turns to the earl. Didn't he tell you that you would leave as soon as the dinner would be over?

🍓 🌓 Vincent then explains to you that he wouldn't just take any stranger into his house and he'll certainly make sure that Rachel won't take every homeless person in. The only reason he's offering you such a position is because he thinks your knowledge would be wasted in the streets. He has a distinct feeling that you're special and he intends to trust his intuition on this one. You mull over their offer for a while with Rachel awaiting your answer eagerly. You don't have anywhere to go anyways and you have no idea if you can ever return. You should at least make sure that you have a roof over your head and can take care of your own life by having a job and earning money. Considering all of that makes your answer obvious. You agree and within the same night you're given a bed and a room which you have to share with some of the other maids. You're happy though that you finally can enjoy the comfort of a mattress, a pillow and a blanket again.

🍓 🌓 At first some of the servants are unsure how to feel about you since you're still someone who came from the streets. Vincent asks you sooner than expected about what exactly happened in your past, something Rachel chastises him for since he shouldn't push you. You have probably led a bad life so far. He should be more sensible and give you a bit more time. You just stare at him for a while and he can see in your eyes that you're reliving some bad memories right now. The only thing you tell both of them then is that you're entire family is gone and that you'll never be able to see them again. You ask Rachel after that if you can leave and she excuses you, apologizes to you for having to recall such sad memories. Vincent could dig deeper but knows that he probably should let it be, he has seen the pain in your eyes. He's still a bit curious to know where exactly you were taught so much.

🍓 🌓 Luckily you manage to blend in quickly with the rest of the servants who soon accept you. They see how hard you work and when they catch glimpses of your educational knowledge they understand why their earl offered you this place. You are always ready to help and are quick and willing to learn new tasks you apparently haven't done before. Rachel asks you almost every time how you're doing and if you've grown used to this place yet and her youngest son seems always eager to talk with you for a bit. Vincent and Ciel like to chat with you since you surprise them sometimes with your wisedom, especially Vincent is fascinated with your answers and predictions you sometimes make. Everything is almost good but Rachel gets told that you often just stay in your room, that you suffer often nightmares at night and that some of them have caught you silently crying somewhere before. Your past still makes you suffer greatly apparently.

🍓 🌓 Rachel seeks you out, worried for you although you tell her that she shouldn't concern herself too much with you. It's true that you miss your family but you can't do anything about it since they're gone now. She still tells you that you can always come to her if you need to talk with someone. You're touched by her kindness, know that you can most likely never tell her the truth about what really happened though. The whole family is rather fond of you at one point though. You become pretty much Rachel's personal maid at one point and she spends much time with you when she's bedridden due to her condition. Vincent often asks you about your opinions on certain topics since he trusts your advices since you always consider things from a different perspective than him and sometimes seem to know how a certain situation will end. Ciel likes talking with you too due to your occasional humor and knowledge and his younger brother is really clingy and you often look out for those two when their parents are busy. Both don't mind a bit though and actually come sometimes running to you when they have a problem.

🍓 🌓 You don't talk much about your past and the little pieces of knowledge the household has lets most assume that your family was better of than the average citizen but died in a tragic accident and that that is the reason why you are so knowledgeable and have ended up on the streets. Something doesn't sit right with Vincent though. He has tried to do his research on you but couldn't find anything. There is no family with your last name you admitted accidentally to him at one point, there is no history with a family of that name who died for some reason. There is no family at all with that name in London. He doesn't believe your family to be the average citizens, the deepness of your education must mean that one of your family members must have been a teacher, a doctor or just richer. Then there is something else that arouses his suspicion at times. The way you behave and talk is rather eccentric at times, certain words sometimes leave your lips that he's never heard and your predictions, when you share them with him, are spot-on at times. As if you know what was going to happen.

🍓 🌓 Ciel sometimes also tells him that you tell his younger brother and him weird things at times when you're somewhere else with your thoughts and always try to cover it up afterwards. Son and father both feel like there is something you keep hidden from them and both want to know what that is. They can agree on the fact that whatever you keep a secret won't harm them though, you would never do something to hurt them. They just want to know because whatever it is you tell no one is a weight pulling on your heart. The distant and sad look at times, that one time Ciel and his brother caught you crying and your silent and sometimes downright depressing behavior. They can't bear to see you like this, they care too much.

🍓 🌓 By now your lifestyle has undergone a little change as the Phantomhive family might have grown a bit too attached to you. You have been working less and less in the kitchen or cleaned the house. Instead you spend a lot of time with Rachel and her husband, read stories to the youngest boy and are even allowed to help the twins with their education since you know enough to teach them. Ciel's younger brother also demands your presence a lot since he has asthma too and is often too sick to go outside which upsets him. So he wants you to play with him or read him some stories. Most of your meals are taken together with the family even though this isn't something that should happen considering that you're just a plain servant. You tell them so too but they just laugh it off and tell you that they want you to enjoy your food together with them. You even get your own private room instead of sharing a room with the other maidens.

🍓 🌓 Vincent doesn't want to threaten you even if he could do that with ease. You've become a part of his family, of their family by now. He knows that everyone feels the same way too so he can't force you to tell him. Not to mention that Rachek would never fully forgive you if he would use force against you. Instead him and Ciel try to coax you into telling them what your full story is. You know that they care for you so much after all, you can always come to them if it becomes too much for you alone to carry. Rachel and the youngest son are not informed about their plan for now though since both are much more purer and kinder. Rachel and her youngest are really clingy with you and especially the little one is often right next to you and hides behind you when he feels shy. Rachel gushes over both of you since you two are so adorable together, feels happier than ever with you as the lovely addition to this family. She often tells you that she views you like her own family too to let you know that she loves and cares for you.

🍓 🌓 You find yourself at times overwhelmed with all the affection that is thrown your way and the way Vincent and Rachel dote on you and their children. There is guilt embracing your heart too since you can't shake off the feeling that you're betraying your own family because of this situation. They aren't dead, just in a world so far away from where you are right now and this guilt gets the better of you at times when you abruptly try to distance yourself from the Phantomhive family to feel like you're loyal to your own. You can't do that for too long though since Vincent will order for the servants to get you if he realizes that you try to avoid them. He doesn't want Rachel and his youngest son to know since they'd be heartbroken and reminds you of that in a chiding tone too. He knows you could never be the cause of happiness for those two. Weirdly enough he sees right through you and even asks you if you isolate yourself because you can't let go of your own family. You give him a terrified and exposed look.

🍓 🌓 Vincent and Ciel are both slightly unhappy with your emotional inability to accept them as your new family. From the ways you act your family is either dead or will most likely never return to you so there shouldn't be a problem. Emotions have never been rational though and both are aware of that. At times you do seem truly happy though, feel like you really are part of their family and nothing brings Rachel greater joy than seeing the happy smile on your face when you interact with her youngest or joke around with Ciel. She wants you to always be like this but knows it's selfish from her to ask this of you, especially since you lost your real family which still affects you at times. She tells Vincent her dream nevertheless and he promises her that you just need time to recover. He will make sure that her dream will become a reality.

🍓 🌓 Months pass by where you still don't tell anyone about your past and grow more torn apart between what you used to have and still want and what you have now and have learned to treasure. Your guilt holds you back from truly acknowledging the Phantomhive family as your new family in this world and your heart breaks every time when the youngest son tells you that you're like an older sibling to him and that he loves you a lot or when Rachel gives you a gentle hug and smiles at you with this fond look of hers. It fills you with guilt and the emotional gaslighting that Vincent and sometimes even Ciel do to convince you to tell them only hurts you more. Until one night, after another nightmare of yours, the guilt kills you and you go straight to the chambers of Rachel and Vincent. Both are still tired when they wake up and see you standing there but as soon as they notice your tears and the sobs you try to hold back, both are awake. They both know that you most likely had another nightmare but this is the first time you've sought them out after one.

🍓 🌓 You slump down on the bed next to you, still distraught after your nightmare and both of them try their best to comfort you. Rachel embraces you with her warmth and Vincent caresses your hair. Both wait for you to tell them what has happened and you sob out that they probably won't believe you anyways if you tell them everything now. Rachel cradles your face in her hands carefully and promises to you that they'll believe you and the look in her eyes is what finally breaks you. Everything just spills out of you as you tell them that you came originally from another country but were somehow transported into this world and you have no way to come back home, don't know of any at least. Both of them share a short glance with each other and they know exactly what each other is thinking. They both believe you. Rachel because she knows you would never lie to her and Vincent because he is very good in telling whether someone is lying to him or not. He doesn't believe that you're lying to him and somehow everything makes perfect sense to him now. Your weird words and how you know so much. Both comfort you for the rest of the night.

🍓 🌓 The parents decide to tell their children nothing for now although they'll have to do that at one point. Ciel most likely suspects that something is going on and approaches his father who just tells him that he has to wait for a bit but promises to him that he'll definitely be told soon what has happened. Rachel grows more paranoid now that she knows the truth and it leads her to suffer under insecurities. It must be torture for you to know that your real family searches for you and hopes for you to return to them without knowing that you're stuck in a completely different world. She starts doubting if she can really make you happy and Vincent has to comfort her when she's distraught like this. She's more clingy and affects her youngest son too. He doesn't know what's going on but realizes that his mother is terrified for you which makes him more clingy and terrified too. He suddenly constantly wants to be with you and his mother since she'a afraid to leave you alone so he grows afraid too as soon as he can't find you.

🍓 🌓 Vincent is slightly disturbed. As fascinating as it might be to know that there are more worlds than the human eye will ever be able to see, he's a bit unsure. You've told Rachel and him that you don't think that you'll ever be able to return to your own world but there is no guarantee for that. You didn't know after all what triggered you to be sent to his world in the first place. There's no guarantee that the same won't happen again. It's frustrating since it's one of the few times where he is unable to control the situation and the lack of information makes it all even worse. It's ridiculous but the only thing he can do now is hoping that you truly will never return. He knows that this is selfish but Vincent is a egotistic man to begin with. His wife and children love you and he does too, he won't lose a precious family member. They're your new family after all, they can make you happy. Enough for you to stop being often so sad about your family in your original world.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere rachel #yandere rachel phantomhive #yandere vincent #yandere vincent phantomhive #yandere real ciel #yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #platonic yandere

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alittlefrenchtree · 4 months

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I'm against any kind of hatred towards Nick because he "hates rwrb" because obviously that's not the case but I don't understand why we can't even express legitimate perplexity in the way he completely ignored (on social media) everything related to the film including the announcement of the sequel.

Today he will definitely announce the new project and ok, that's right, it's his job but isn't the sequel his project as well? Why doesn't that project deserve the same space on his socials? I don't understand why we can't talk about it in any way because we are immediately attacked by the throat and there is not the slightest possibility of exchanging an opinion and understanding.

ok, this one is polite and i’m too weak to resist talking about marketing stuff so i’ll bite.

Because there is nothing to talk about? Nick’s social media and instagram accounts are exclusively dedicated to promote what he has to promote (and also trying to be in Arsenal’s good graces, free tickets and all access invitations) and believe it or not, there is rules to follow with social media management.

Without talking about a ban or an exclusivity, there is still a schedule to follow when you promote something, similar projects on the same plateform and general logic about what you’re posting and when. When you share something, there is a goal to achieve. Remind your audience of a release date. Remind them they have your movie on their watch list and need to watch it (again). Lead them to like a post, to watch a trailer. Poke your favorite football so they notice you and give you stuff. Show to the people who are hiring actors to do stuff that you might not be a big name just yet but you’re hanging out with them and know how to wear expansive watch as well.

Breaking news, actor’s personal feelings is rarely on the list. Fan service for the pure purpose of fan service either (at least not in this case).

So regarding of the sequel, right now there is nothing to promote? Not a release date, not a teaser of a teaser of a teaser, not a visual (the generic ugly thing made in 5 minutes on canva.com isn’t a proper visual) not even the beginning of a shooting date. You don’t promote something when there is nothing to promote. The announcement was early, given that they had nothing to say about it except for Matthew and Casey writing it together. So it’s was mainly for fans. It doesn’t need Nick’s audience’s boost to spread the news because everybody who cares about rwrb (and also their grandmas) already know about the sequel. And there is nothing more to do at this point since there is nothing more to sell. Would it make sense if you were asking why there isn’t any billboard out there promoting the sequel? Like to say what? They didn’t even share a year for the movie. Not even a title 😭 So far it’s only a fan news.

So no, I don’t understand the perplexity (and even less the worse takes i’ve read out there). If you already know he cares about rwrb and its sequel, why would you need the validation of a random story or a random post?

That should be an opportunity for you and everybody who shares your feelings on that to ask yourself about what meaningless social media management bother you so much. That would be a more interesting question. Maybe it could help you make some of your relationships with people a bit healthier.

Took this one because i had free time on my hands while commuting, but i’m on my way to eat delicious food and next time i’ll have that much free time and energy on my hands will be in 9572847 business days so we’ll see if i’ll answer on any follow up on this conversation. Take care xx 💜 (and don’t forget to celebrate Nick’s announcement!! still on the Knives Out 3 boat personally)

#alft asks #nicholas galitzine

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gyusrose · 1 year

Text

➵ the five lovers -> ot5

⚠︎ fluff, angst

✎ non-idol! au

summary: being alone now, makes you reflect on how much you took for granted your love life.

ot5 x fem.reader

wc: 1 .5k

“so uh we kiss now?”

Taehyun was probably the one person you knew better than yourself, you spent more time with him than your own parents. growing up together had its advantages, he always had your back no matter what. even when he got ridiculously popular during late middle school-early freshman year, he never forgot about you, how could you not fall? you had trouble figuring out if he was flirting or just being friendly, you seriously couldn’t tell. that was until a summer night before sophomore year..

“i really like you, a lot, not as a friend but you know?”

you almost screamed at that moment, thankful to know that it wasn’t one-sided.

unfortunately as the weeks and months went on, you noticed how much you didn’t act like a couple. yes surely you’ve kissed, but nothing more than a peck and would only hold hands occasionally. nothing changed from your friendship to your ‘romantic relationship’ just the title.

Taehyun noticed as well, that’s when during January he decided to have a talk with you regarding what y’all really where. you both decided to stay off as friends instead since it clearly wasn’t meant to be more than that. you hold nothing but brotherly love towards him still. you were sure of that when you saw him get a girlfriend and felt nothing but happiness for him and so did he when you did.

“you’ve never done this before?”

Yeonjun was a heck of an experience. he was the school’s basketball captain which also meant he had girls at his feet, swooning over him, yet he saw you. it wasn’t out of nowhere of course. over the summer you definitely grew into your face a bit and had a puberty bloom so going into junior year, you were pretty popular as well. destiny put the two of you in the same physics class and it started from there. he sat next to you and somehow always made a conversation with you, it escalated week by week, next thing you know he’s asking you out on a date. obviously you say yes.

he was your first REAL relationship. he made experience everything (if you know what i mean) although you’ve been worried about losing your virginity and feeling ashamed of it, Yeonjun made it as special as it could’ve been. y’all dated for the whole year. since he was a year older than you, he graduated high school. the two of you really wanted to keep dating ‘long distance’ but we all know how that’s pretty much a slow breakup. it didn’t help the fact that he went so far away. he was also surrounded by college girls, even if he denied it, you knew there was definitely a couple of kisses stolen from his friend’s instagram stories. it didn’t take much for the both of you to end it keeping in ‘good terms’.

“you sure you hate me?“

Beomgyu was the last person you’d taught you’d even think about dating. after taking a year to focus on yourself, the moment you got to college you were met with a crazy long-haired boy, bumping into you. he didn’t even say sorry or anything which was already enough to dislike him.

later you found out he was in a rock band, how ‘surprising’. you found this out when your roommate invited you to go with her to one of their gigs since her boyfriend was the lead singer she had extra tickets. you, not knowing he would be there, agreed since you needed to have some fun. your excitement was drained when you saw him playing the electric guitar and he was good, which made you more annoyed.

your roommate invited you to parties and he was always there, he noticed you the first time, after noticing your coldness, he kept bugging you day after day, trying to make you laugh once. the way he pushed your buttons made it almost impossible to not answer back. it became a love-hate friendship in a way? more hate than love. you clearly don’t despise him but you don’t like him at the same time. it wasn’t until during an argument, to shut you up, he smashed his lips into yours and you didn’t hate it? needless to say you both started dating shortly after.

unfortunately you can never enjoy things too much since he got signed with a company and decided to focus on his career and dropping out of university, in no way were you going to try long distance again so the only choice was to break up. you listen to his band’s music from time to time when you’re sad.

“my sister has good taste in friends”

HueningKai was perfect for you. one summer during junior year of college, your roommate , Lea, invited you to a vacation with her family, since you weren’t doing anything during the summer so why not? that’s where you met him. Lea’s younger brother wasn’t…bad looking. you didn’t start immediately dating, in fact y’all started off as friends, very good friends. both of you had a lot in common, some things you never seen someone also like. after the vacation you hung out at their home most of the time.

the both of you didn’t feel any romantic feelings until that one night. it was his 20th birthday and you two somehow ended up ‘accidentally kissing’. you guess you were just really excited for him and ended up kissing him. from there it kind of became awkward. you didn’t know if you should bring it up or just forget about it and pretend it didn’t happen. eventually he brought it up which ended up in a confession. you hesitantly accepted , you liked him but not to such point.

you loved him. yes you did. being with him for two years, making it your longest relationship, he made you love him, so much. he had this other part of him, the crazy one, which you adapted to love. he was like beomgyu but way softer.

this can’t be a happy ending right ? of course not. you got a job opportunity outside of the city and you would be dumb to not take it. once again you went through another break up. we decided to stay as friends and hang out form time to time, meaning once a year.

“i really like you”

Soobin was the love of your life. after three years of being single, you were craving love, wanting someone to be with and just love you, yeah you had your friends but it wasn’t the same. your best friend and coworker noticed this and decided to have a night out and go to the club, you didn’t budge and agreed since you actually needed it, at least to get laid.

you met this jaw dropping handsome guy, which didn’t seems like a club type of person since he looked really reserved wi to himself so for the first time, you started the conversation, thankfully he wasn’t creeped out or anything and continued ending up in exchanging phone numbers. soon you found out who he was, the son of one of the richest man in the country. you were surprised since Soobin was very humble and down-to-earth. you didn’t treat him differently though, knowing he’d probably hate that.

y’all started to go out to different places except his house since he mentioned how his dad was. after a couple of months he asked you out which you obviously said yes to, unknown to his dad but unfortunately he eventually found out and was against it since you weren’t “high class” . Soobin rebelled against this and still found a way to meet up with you one way or another. until one night.

he came with his head down dried tears down his cheeks. you were very confused, his next words explained everything though.

his dad had arranged a marriage with another woman.

your heart crumbled. his dad was too powerful to say no to you understood, but you still spent the next few days sobbing into your pillow. the marriage happened way too soon as well, it was all over the news, now making it impossible to watch television.

you can never have a happily ever after can’t you?

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